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 My Roman
Copyright © 2020 by Rose Croft. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or

mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without
written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a
book review.

Resemblance to actual persons, things, living or dead, or events is entirely

coincidental.

Cover Design: Bex Harper Designs

Formatter: Integrity Formatting
 From the author of The Mendoza Family Series comes a new
college/NA enemies-to-lovers romance. Welcome to Hillside U and
meet the alpha boys who rule it.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧
She’s both a liar and a thief.
But she’s in my world now
She can run, but she can’t hide
Hope she’s ready to play...

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐚
Hillside University was supposed to be my fresh start.
Unfortunately, karma had other plans, the night I ran into Roman
Martinez again.
Football star. Popular. Wealthy.
The boy who’d once captured my heart ⁣was now set out to make
me his pawn.
Good luck with that.
He would learn that I wouldn’t bow so easily.
Once upon a time, I was living my fairy tale with my knight in
shining armor.
Now I knew fairy tales were just pipe dreams cloaked in false hope
and dipped in deception.
 Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
 Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Epilogue
Playlist
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Other Books by Rose Croft
Excerpt: Cabezon
 To Rose’s Buds
The best team a girl could ask for.
 Prologue
Three Years Ago

Roman Martinez—Age 18

It’s funny how the line between love and hate could disintegrate in a
hot minute. In my lifetime, I’d never really felt either until recently.
Never show emotion. Never give away your hand, son. Only fools
and pathetic saps gave into feelings. Besides, words like “love” and
“hate” were only stupid ideologies that poets and idiots needed to
put a label on to justify weaknesses. That was the Robert Martinez
school of thought, and my brother and I had his words ingrained in
our head from an early age.
I threw back the remaining contents of my cognac. Well, my
dad’s cognac (but whatever, semantics) and perched over my
father’s wall-to-wall office windows staring at the two blond women,
mother and daughter, walking outside. My eyes were drawn to the
younger one. Even at a distance, I caught how the sunlight glinted
off her long, light blond hair. I knew the locks felt like spun silk as it
threaded through my fingers. I always loved to touch her hair or put
a stray strand behind her ears.
Even now as she strode down the sidewalk, she held her head
high with a suitcase in one hand and duffel bag strapped over her
shoulder. After living here for almost eight years, she’d been kicked
out of the kingdom. She came from nothing and unfortunately would
end with nothing. Well, except for a paltry sum of money my father
was forced to pay.
 “She is quite beautiful, isn’t she?” my brother Antoni said in
polite disinterest. He was sixteen and followed our father’s lead to a
tee. He even had Robert’s mannerisms down to an art with his
casual stance and arms crossed negligently across his chest. “I bet
she was quite a fuck, too.”
I clenched the snifter in my hand tighter but said nothing.
Depraved. You are depraved, and an embarrassment, Roman. You
fell for the trap. Why can’t you be more like Antoni? My father’s
words from a few days ago quenched my fury.
I could only blame myself, but I could blame her as well. She
could’ve had it all. She could’ve been my queen. But not now.
“Tell me, hermano, how was she? Was her pussy as tight as I’d
imagined?”
“Shut up.”
“Did she tell you how much she loved you before or after she
stabbed you in the back?”
“Antoni,” I growled and soon pain lanced my palm and fingers,
followed by the obnoxious sound of crystal shattering on Travertine
tile.
“Careful.” My brother raised his eyebrows in mild interest as he
pointed at the crushed glass nestled in my hand. Blood seeped from
my skin, dripping on the floor. “You could get an infection.”
“Then it’s nothing less than I deserve, right?” Although a
smarter man would’ve tried to stop the bleeding, I didn’t. Instead, I
stood frozen in place, gazing outside as I watched the pretty little
liar follow her mother into the back seat of a black sedan that would
take them away permanently. Despite my newfound animosity, I still
fought my so-called vulnerable emotions. I would kill those feelings.
She ruined it all. However, along the way, she ruined me too.
 Present

Theodora Daniels

It’s been said that one moment can change your life completely. I
thought I’d already experienced that moment a few years ago.
However, it seemed like fate was a raging, vengeful bitch that
cloaked itself in the form of a six three dark-haired, brooding devil
with no heart. Well, fuck me. If only I’d been warned. If only I could
hit reset on the night I would see him again. If only I could forget
him altogether. Before I get into all that, let me back up a bit.
I was eighteen and embarking on a new chapter in my life being
the first week as a freshman on campus at Hillside University. It was
a private school settled in the ragged beauty of the hill country in
central Texas. Thus, the reason people called it the college on the
hill. I’d been so excited for the day to finally come when I could
move into my dorm room. That’s not to say I didn’t feel a case of
nerves and a little self-conscious because I’d arrived here alone with
all my clothes and sheets crammed in a plastic trash bag and a
pillow nestled in the crook of my arm while I leaned against the door
of my old, beat-up Corolla taking in the scenery. Students fluttered
around me with moving boxes in their arms and their parents
hovering around them as they trounced in and out of the residence
hall.
Squaring my shoulders, I made my way to the open doors.
Trudging through the packed hallway on the second floor, I passed
by two girls gushing about rush week and the sororities they were
considering. This was probably the fifth time I’d heard the mention
of fraternities and sororities in the span of ten minutes making my
way to my room. Rushing for a sorority would probably be a great
idea considering I was somewhat of a shy person, but that was an
extra expense I couldn’t afford. To be honest, I didn’t know if I was
sorority material. Even if I were accepted into one, I would’ve stuck
out like a sore thumb.
I stopped in front the open door to my left and saw a lanky girl
with pale skin and red hair swept up in a bun setting something on a
desk. She glanced over at me and grinned widely. “Are you
Theodora?”
“Yes. Kenzie?”
“Uh-huh?” She nodded and squealed pulling me into the room.
“Yes. This is your side of the room, and this is my side. I swear I’ve
been here for like six hours. Can you believe it? Six hours trying to
set up my room. And these are my parents.” She spoke a mile a
minute and introduced her mother and father who both greeted me
as I blushed in embarrassment feeling like an orphan without my
mother here.
“Are your parents here too?” Kenzie’s mom asked glancing over
my shoulder.
I shook my head setting my things aside. “My mother couldn’t
make it. She just had back surgery and is still recovering.”
“Oh honey. Do you need help unloading your things from the
car?”
“No, but thank you.” Luckily, she didn’t press. I also didn’t miss
the glance of concern she threw her husband’s way. Kenzie’s family
probably came from wealth. I shouldn’t make assumptions, but I
noticed the two matching Louis Vuitton purses draped over the
nearby chair. I’d been around enough rich people for several years to
sense the aura and scent of the privileged like the back of my hand.
The truth was, you had to have money to go to a private
university, and this was one of the most prestigious in the state. Or
receive a scholarship, like I did. Even with a full ride that didn’t cover
all the expenses I would encounter. My mother didn’t have any extra
money to spare since she’d injured herself in a car wreck and had to
have back surgery. Furthermore, she’d been out of work for almost
the whole past year and draining her savings with all the medical
expenses. I’d spent the past year picking up any work I could find to
help out which wasn’t much in the scheme of things, but it was
something at least.
“Let me help you set up,” Kenzie offered with a friendly smile
and after spending the next hour getting to know them, I began to
relax. With their help, I converted my space into a cozy, inviting
area. I glanced over at Kenzie’s side. It looked like Chip and Joanna
Gaines had stepped in to renovate. All that was missing were some
fresh-baked cookies and shiplap paneling.
Soon after Kenzie’s parents said their tearful goodbye, my new
roommate slid her arm through mine and said, “This is going to be
the best year ever.” And so began a fun-filled beginning with a new
friend.
As the weekend approached all was going great so far. Kenzie
convinced me to go to a party at one of the fraternity houses. Since
it was rush week, these places were like open houses where
everyone could get in. That’s what Kenzie told me at least, and she
seemed like an expert on social activities in college. She too was one
of many pledging for a sorority.
“Let me do your hair and make up,” Kenzie said dabbing her lips
as she glanced at her phone.
I eyed her with skepticism. “Why?” I’d donned a casual floral
sundress with spaghetti straps and flip-flops. It was late August so I
thought I looked summery and it was comfortable. Kenzie had just
put the final touches on her makeup and was still sitting around in a
tank and leggings.
“Come on, Theo. It will be fun. I promise you’ll like the end
result.”
 Obviously, she was not impressed with my current look. “Okay.”
I shrugged. I wasn’t an expert on hair and make-up by any means.
For that matter, I’d never had girlfriends who I’d hung out with or
had sleepovers. I’d lived a very lame life in high school with the
exception of my freshman year.
After thirty minutes of her making up my face and fixing my
hair, I must say I was impressed.
“You’re gorgeous, Theo. You just need to own it.”
I tilted my head as she’d already rushed off to her closet.
“Here, wear this.” She held out a hunter green tube dress,
laughing when I raised an eyebrow. “Trust me. You will look good in
this.”
“Okay,” I conceded and went to the bathroom to change.
“You’re such a little prude,” she teased behind me as I closed
the door. Try being humiliated in a girl’s locker room, I thought. That
will damn near traumatize you and make you self-conscious.
The dress was very fitted, and I yanked down on the hem to
mid-thigh, I’d never worn anything this nice before. I saw the eight-
hundred-dollar price flash before me when she ripped the tag off
and handed me the dress. She’d never even worn it. She had a
closetful of clothing, while I’d scrimped and saved my money to buy
the few dresses I had.
“Maybe I shouldn’t wear this,” I said as I stepped from the
bathroom.
Kenzie had on a black mini dress that crossed over one shoulder
and was strapping on heels. She glanced up and broke out into a
Cheshire cat grin. “You look amazing, and yes, you are wearing it.”
“But—”
She stood up and took my hands in hers. “Look, Theo, you are
wearing it. Tonight we’re going to work on getting you out of that
shell.”
 I tilted my head. “Are you playing the role of fairy godmother,
and I’m Cinderella?” I joked, but I was kind of serious.
She must’ve picked up on my tone. “No Theo,” she said quietly.
“Please. Don’t think that. I don’t ever want to overstep my
boundaries. I’m not trying to be superficial and say that having a
makeover and dressing up makes you a different person, nor does it
define you. Your inner beauty is inside you, so I want you to have
the confidence to show it. Okay? Own it.”
“Yeah.” I nodded. Funny that she could already sense so much
about me. “Thanks.”
“Come here roomie.” She embraced me into a hug. When she
pulled away she smiled ruefully. “But you will get a lot of attention
tonight.”
Theodora

Fraternity row was only a few blocks off campus but since we were
both in heels Kenzie ordered us a Lyft. She had a car, a cherry red
BMW she’d received as a graduation present, but the street that
stretched in front of frat house row was narrow and it would’ve been
something short of a miracle to find a parking spot, unless you
wanted to risk the chance of parking illegally and getting your car
towed. I tried to give her cash, but she waved me off. “Don’t worry,
it’s not that expensive. It’s not a long drive.”
When we made it to the Pi Kappa Alpha house, the party was in
full swing if all the students hanging out front were any indication,
and you could hear the loud thump of bass coming from inside.
Own it. I straightened my shoulders and made sure the hem of
the dress was in place and my boobs were properly covered after
sliding out of the back seat of our ride.
We passed through the crowd inside who were gathered in the
living room cheering. Kenzie waved to some guy in a button-down
shirt, untucked and some khaki shorts. I’d noticed several guys
dressed similar to him, while girls wore dresses. Looked a little
strange, as though we were a little over dressed for the club when it
was only a frat party but whatever.
“Hey girl.” The guy leaned in and gave my friend a peck on the
cheek.
 “This is Theodora,” she told the clean-cut guy who held a bottle
of Shiner Bock beer in his hand.
“Hey, I’m Justin. Let me get you something to drink. We have a
full bar tonight. What would you like?”
“Vodka tonic with a twist of lime. Preferably Tito’s,” Kenzie
replied like she was a seasoned mixologist. “Same,” I said when he
looked at me.
“Got it.” He nodded his head. “Wait here, and I’ll be back.”
“He’s cute, right? I met him on campus earlier today at the
bookstore. He plays football.”
I nodded. I guess if you liked a guy who wore khaki shorts and
polo shirts.
“All right, everyone. Listen up,” a voice boomed over a
microphone and the music stopped. Through the crowd, I saw
another preppie looking guy with a button-down oxford and what a
surprise…khakis standing in front of the stone fireplace with
microphone in hand. “We have some local stars among us tonight.
Future NFL ballers. Am I right?”
The crowded living room erupted in cheers. I didn’t know
anything about Hillside’s football team. It was a smaller college and
was known for its excellence in academics.
“These guys are going to put us on the map this year in
football. We’re going to make it to the College Football Playoffs!” Cue
another round of cheers.
“What is this? A party or a pep rally?” I asked Kenzie in jest.
She was clapping too and leaned down. “There are a lot of
Falcon football players here tonight. Many of them are PIKE
members. Justin’s in this fraternity too. He lives here.”
“Hey, where’s the rest of your entourage?” Preppy boy directed
his attention to some tall dark-haired guy who stood out in the
crowd. I could only see his wide shoulders and back.
 “How the fuck would I know? I’m not their keeper.”
Preppy boy smiled and lifted the mic to his mouth like he was
emceeing a boxing match. “Ladies and gentlemen. I present to you.
Standing at six foot three, two-hundred and forty-five pounds. The
godsend of your Hillside Falcons…Roman Martinez!” Whoops and
hollers erupted all around, while my breath caught in my throat. He
was here. Roman made his way to the front, and it was like I had a
line of string in my spine that someone yanked tightly forcing me to
stand at attention.
“Speech, speech, speech.” Arms were in the air as fists pumped
back and forth in sync. This was the strangest spectacle I’d ever
witnessed. I never thought I would ever cross paths again with
Roman. Technically, I hadn’t, but if he saw me here. Who knew what
would happen?
Roman took the mic and scanned the crowd, while I causally
ducked my head shielding my face with my hand although I was
fairly certain he couldn’t see me since the room was packed, and I
was near the back of the crowd. Justin approached with our drinks.
Kenzie grabbed hers, and I had no choice but to take mine too.
“This is our year. This is our time. This is our moment!” He
raised his drink in the air and everyone did the same. “So let’s have
a toast. Here’s to a great year and hope to see you at the games
and all hail the mighty falcons.” He dropped the microphone and
stalked off, and the packed group of people somehow separated,
leaving a path with the ending near Kenzie and me. Panic shot
through me. I faced Kenzie keeping my back to him, hoping he’d just
pass by and not even take the time to notice me. I felt the rush of
air whoosh by me and a familiar all-male scent, and the blaring of
Travis Scott’s “Highest in the Room” indicating the party was back
on. I inhaled deeply whether out of relief or relishing a high I hadn’t
experienced in years, I couldn’t be certain. However, I kept my head
down staring into my drink contemplating slipping away and walking
back to my dorm.
 Raucous laughter was heard over the loud music. Out of the
corner of my eye, I saw him standing around a group of girls a few
feet away. Then a brunette stepped into his group and leaned in,
kissing his cheek. Nausea threatened to rear its ugly head. If I could
just convince Kenzie to go outside, away from him…
She bent to my ear. “Hey, I’ll be right back. Justin wants me to
help him bring some more alcohol from the basement since the bar
is running low. Will you be okay here for a sec?”
“Yeah, go. I’ll be fine.” I sure as hell hoped my voice sounded
more confident than I felt. There were so many people packed in
here, I could lay low for a bit, couldn’t I? Justin took her hand as I
watched them walk off. I wrapped my arms around my stomach and
kept unwillingly glancing his way. Soon, some of the girls in his orbit
moved off toward the back of the house, while he stayed and looked
like he was having some serious conversation with the brunette
because he wasn’t smiling. I couldn’t see her face because her back
was to me. The next thing I knew she threw her hands up in the air
storming off while he glanced around with a look of indifference and
took a pull from his drink.
I took one step to the side planning my exit because the group
of people between he and I was thinning out as people pumped
hands in the air bouncing by me to the beat of the music blaring
around us.
“Roman!” a male voice called out behind me. “We’re gonna do it
this year, man.” He sounded well on his way to drunk and tipped his
cup in his direction. He struggled to stand up straight holding his cup
high as alcohol sloshed over the side. I cringed in apprehension as
Roman lifted his head, searching for whoever spoke, and the air left
my lungs. He nodded at him, and then his eyes shifted until they
landed on me. A shiver crept up my neck when I saw his eyes. Not
only were they cold. They were filled with hate.
Tortuous seconds ticked by until his lips twisted down. “Get
out.” I saw the words slip out of his mouth, although the noise was
too loud to hear. It was easy to read his lips, and his warning was
directed at me. Why did I stand paralyzed when I should’ve slipped
out when I had the chance? Yet, I felt planted to the floor still
harboring a sense of denial.
This was my Roman.
The boy I’d known all my life.
Who I didn’t know anymore.
His glare never wavered from me, and his next words hit me
directly as though he were standing in front of me instead of several
feet apart. “Get the fuck out!”
“Damn, bro. What did I do to piss you off?” Mr. Overserved
behind me called out defensively. The few people around us shifted
their head in puzzlement wondering why this football god was trying
to throw someone out of a fraternity party. My cheeks flushed in
embarrassment because I knew exactly who he was talking about.
Fortunately, there weren’t too many people around to see what was
unfolding. However, the public humiliation would only get worse the
longer I stood here and stared. And there was no doubt he’d keep at
it. When Roman set his mind on something he always followed
through, and he had the minions beneath him to carry out his
orders. Always had.
Turning, I pasted a smile on my face, hid my rising
mortification, and made my way quickly out the front door before
everyone at the party knew me as the girl who got kicked out of an
open house mixer.
I swiped at my face rushing down the sidewalk and bumped
someone as I passed by nearly losing my balance as one of my
pointy heels turned beneath me.
“Hey. I got you.” Hands held my arms steadying me.
“Thanks,” I murmured giving a brief glance to the tall broad-
shouldered guy with a kind smile. I looked over my shoulder hoping
to avoid seeing him again. All I wanted was to make it back to my
room.
 “You leaving already?”
“Yup. Thanks again.” I started walking off.
“Where are you headed?” He asked behind me, and I glanced
over my shoulder. “Home.”
“Nick! Where the fuck you been, bro?” Someone yelled in the
distance, and I picked up my stride.
“Wait,” he called out behind me, but I waved him off.
“I’m fine. Really.”
I kept up my pace fighting the sickening feeling of humiliation.
As I neared the dorm, I kicked off my heels and padded up the
front steps. I heard my phone buzz.
Kenzie: Where r u?
Me: Walking home. I don’t feel well.
Kenzie: Tell me where you are. I’ll walk with u.
Me: No. Stay. I’m almost to our room. Enjoy your evening with
Justin.

I could tell she really liked him, and right now I just wanted to
be alone because I knew Kenzie would bombard me with questions I
didn’t want to answer. What could I say? Roman and I shared a long
history. The little girl who never knew her father, raised by her
mother who lived in the poor part of a small country town, went
from squalor to living in a mansion. I remembered the first day I set
eyes on him when we moved in with his family because my mom
had been hired to take care his mother.
He was a few years older than me, and I’d always had a crush
on him over the years. Eventually, he’d returned the feelings. I
thought we’d be together forever, but I was a naïve and idealistic
girl. You don’t know what love is. You’re too young. Those were the
words my mom uttered the summer between my freshman and
sophomore year. Soon after, everything fell apart. Whatever love that
had blossomed between Roman and I long ago was only a pipe
dream.

My first week of classes had gone smoothly so far. It was Friday

morning and I had classes until noon. Luckily, I had a job interview
at one of the local college restaurants a few blocks away this
afternoon.
I walked down the sidewalk, observing the stately, red brick
buildings surrounded by lush trees. It really was a quaint but
beautiful campus nestled among rolling hills covered in rock and
foliage. As I came closer to the older building named after someone
who’d probably contributed money to the campus years ago when it
opened, I noticed a group of people lounging around the front. After
walking this path for a few days, I’d recognized the same people
congregated here. Most of the guys stood out being tall and
muscular, probably athletes of some type, as a few girls laughed and
flipped their hair or put a hand on their hip as if enraptured by
whatever was being said. I didn’t know any of them, but some of
the faces looked familiar in a way. Probably because they were at
that ill-fated PIKE party last week. When I passed through here the
first time, I’d felt some of them watch me in morbid fascination and
whisper amongst themselves. At least that’s how I saw it. Perhaps
some people were paying attention the other night when I had to
keep myself from making a mad dash out of the party. I held my
head high nonetheless. I dealt with whispers and petty bullshit
before.
As I turned right to go up the stairs to the entrance, I pulled out
my phone to check the time and a text came through.
Mom: Have a great day and good luck on your interview.
I clicked in the reply box, then a large shadow fell over me and
chills coursed down my spine. When I glanced up, my pulse kicked
up. It was like staring at a beautiful picture or reliving a bittersweet
memory from my past. Unfortunately, I couldn’t forget his hate-filled
glare from the party last week as he crudely kicked me out. Roman.
I averted my eyes and tried to move around him because I made a
vow to never be caught off-guard again. However, he blocked my
path. “Move out of my way.”
“Not yet,” he said, crowding the limited space between us. His
chest was as broad as ever, more so even, as muscles constricted
under soft fabric. I saw the tan skin that peeked out from the collar,
and my eyes traveled up farther, studying his face. The angled,
square jawline. The indentation in his chin. Sensuous full mouth. His
pronounced straight nose. All his features screamed out strength,
hard, and alpha. When I reached his caramel-colored eyes that I
used to get lost in when he gazed at me, I nearly faltered. It was
one thing to see his wrath from a distance. It was quite another to
experience it up close. They were dark and his straight eyebrows
were drawn together as he stared at me with a mixture of coldness
and fury.
“What are you doing here?” His voice sounded ominous as
though I was trespassing on his property.
“I go to school here.”
He leaned in; his inky hair fell across his forehead as he ground
out, “How?”
My skin began to burn as he edged in, and his masculine,
woodsy scent filled my senses. He’d broken my heart, and now
seemed as though he wanted to strangle me. That was apparent.
However, Roman questioning how I got into this school was
ridiculous. Was he implying that I wasn’t good enough or too poor to
attend this small private school?
“I have a scholarship.”
“Is that right?” His voice rose with a deceptive coolness. “You
were always very resourceful, huh, even coming from the trailer
park. You should be very grateful for my family’s generosity.”
 “What does that mean?” Did he think I should fall to the ground
in gratitude because I had the chance to live under his family’s roof
while my mother earned her way? Why was I standing here listening
to this? I complied when I was at the party. However, I was not
going to listen to his condescending crap while I was on campus
getting the education I worked hard for. What could he do? Kick me
off campus too? “I earned the right to be here.”
“I’m sure you did.” His mouth lifted in a cruel smile. “But, don’t
get too comfortable because once you think you have everything, it
could all be lost in the blink of an eye. You know, karma and all.”
“We’re not at a stupid frat party. You can’t throw me out of the
university.” The intelligent side of my brain knew I should’ve ignored
him and ran as far away from him as I could. Instead of trying to
provoke him.
I shouldered around him and before I could step forward,
fingers dug into my elbow, yanking me until my back crashed into
his chest. I felt his breath at my ear as he warned low, “That’s where
you’re wrong. Don’t tempt me. You don’t know the lengths I will go
to when it comes to you.”

I sat down in one of the desks at the back, glancing around the
small auditorium preparing for my Sociology class, still shaken over
seeing Roman again. I thought he was different. Yes, I came from
poverty, but over the years he’d befriended me, even defended me
when the other privileged kids in high school made fun of me. I
thought he loved me. I thought I was good enough. I thought he
wasn’t a superficial person who cared about status. In reality, I was
good enough for him to sample the milk, but not to be seen on his
arm.
“Is this seat taken?” I shook my head and glanced up to see the
blond Adonis who’d seemed to show up late every day we had class
this week. Hearing the whispers among other students, he was
supposedly some football star on campus. He certainly was built like
one. His eyes were light green and his skin tan. His muscles were
etched under the white designer T-shirt he wore. Then recognition
hit me, and he said, “Remember me. The guy you ran into the other
night.”
“Oh hey.”
He dropped down beside me, and I noticed he didn’t bring
anything with him—no laptop, books, pen, or paper. “You took off in
a hurry. I’m Nick by the way.”
“Yeah, I wasn’t feeling well. Think it was food poisoning.”
“Ugh. That shit sucks.”
I bit back a smile and flipped open my school-issued
Chromebook as our professor began his lecture. Soon, another guy
slid into the chair next to blondie. He was equally built too, but had
dark curly hair and mocha skin. “You didn’t bring anything to take
notes?” he whispered as though put out.
“No.” Nick leaned back in his seat. “You know you’re a better
note taker than me.”
“What the fuck, bro? Do I look like your personal assistant?”
The professor paused and glanced around the auditorium until
his eyes settled on our area in the back, apparently hearing the loud
whispers. “If you find my lecture boring, you can leave.”
When the room remained silent, he turned and started writing
something on the Smart Board, and Nick whispered to his friend,
“You told me if I took this class with you, you’d make sure I passed.
You said you’d take one for the team.”
His friend sighed, but didn’t respond. A few minutes later, as I
furiously typed my notes, I felt blondie’s eyes on me as he bent his
head to my ear. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you again, since I
noticed you were in the same class as me.”
I chewed on my lip, and kept moving my fingers across the
keyboard.
 He leaned in again. “But I still don’t know your name.”
I blinked up at him and rushed out, “Theodora.” I cautiously
glanced back to the, front of the auditorium scared that I might be
heard and then asked to leave the class.
I felt a breath on my ear again. “Theodora. I like that name. It
sounds exotic.”
Dr. Smith paused and scanned the room. A few seconds later,
Nick exhaled a loud breath. “Do you even know what the hell this
lecture’s about? I’m lost.”
“Shh,” I warned as silently as possible. Maybe if he wasn’t
talking through it, he would know.
There was a quiet chuckle. “Don’t worry. He won’t kick me out
of class. I have immunity.”
Of course he did. It was the same in high school with the star
athletes. Obviously, college was just an extension of allowing
athletes to have carte blanche. Did Roman get a pass too? Was he
regaled on campus like he was in high school?
When the class was over, I heard the rumbles of students and
the click of laptops flipping shut. I was still trying to finish typing my
notes. As I gathered up my things, I glanced up to see Nick’s grin
with his golden-boy looks. His friend leaned in nudging Nick aside.
“Apparently, this asshole has no manners. I’m Axel by the way.”
“Theo.”
Nick shoved him back playfully. “Don’t you have another class
across campus? Better hurry. Don’t want to be late.”
“Yeah, unlike you I take school seriously.” He leaned in
whispering conspiratorially. “Don’t believe anything this joker says.”
With that, he saluted with a huge grin. “Later.”
Nick rolled his eyes with an easy-going smile. “Hey, I was
wondering if you were going to the football game tomorrow? I play
linebacker on the team.”
 Kenzie was going and had basically coerced me into going with
her. I knew I’d see Roman on the field judging from the props he
received the other night. For as long as I knew him, Roman always
had a football in his hand. It’d always been his dream to play. The
thought caused some kind of weird stirring in my stomach. I
should’ve said no, but instead these words fell out of my mouth. “I’ll
try to make it.”
Nick winked. “You do that. By the way, my number is fifty-five.”
He smirked. “You’ll know when you see me out there making tackle
after tackle.”
“Cocky much?” I teased.
“Nah, just stating facts.”
As he walked off whistling, I wondered why I was thinking
about whether or not I’d see another star player making all the big
plays?
Theodora

It was mid-afternoon and Kenzie and I were sitting in the student

section at the football stadium behind the home team. I cheered
with everyone else as the sea of red jerseys with the word Falcons
displayed across their chests ran through the tunnel onto the field.
As players trotted over to the sidelines, many carrying their helmets
in hand, I made an effort to search for Nick. I truly did. However, my
attention was drawn to the dark head of number eighty-seven. Why
did he have to look so hot and intimidating in his damn uniform?
Roman wasn’t the tallest guy on the team, although close, but his
presence was always larger than any player on the field. Today was
no exception.
“Look, there’s Justin!” Kenzie nudged me. Justin and she had
steadily seen each other more and more for the past week. I
glanced over where she pointed briefly, but my eyes kept going back
to Roman. He was now off by himself on the sideline kneeling just
like he always did before games as he stared at the field. He’d once
told me he liked to visualize his routes and catches before the game.
It got him in the zone. Whatever he did, it usually worked.
It always made me pumped to know you were at my game
watching me. You’re the best good luck charm, Corazón. You’re my
girl, always.
 “Theo. Theo!” My friend jostled my arm. “What just happened?
It’s like you tuned out and were in a daze.”
“What? No,” I recovered. “If you haven’t noticed, it’s kind of
loud in the stadium.” Gosh. I needed to stop this nonsense before
my friend started pressing me for info. I was stuck in a moment and
wasn’t ready to delve into my past with my newfound friend. College
was supposed to be a clean slate for me. I vowed to keep it that
way. I shouldn’t even think about him considering the way he’d
treated me recently. You don’t know the lengths I will go to when it
comes to you.
As the game progressed, we watched as our offense marched
down the field. Roman had already caught several passes, moving
the chains. He was dominating his position as usual. The Falcons
offense was at midfield, and the quarterback took the hike and back
pedaled, Roman breezed by a defender as he burned down the field.
The QB tossed it in the air his way…and it landed in his hands as he
ran the next twenty yards into the end zone. “Touchdown Falcons!”
the announcer yelled, followed by a loud train sounding horn of a
contraption behind the end zone. “Roman Martinez!” It was noisy
but all I saw was my high school crush who jumped around in
excitement and yanked off his helmet as he bellowed out to the sky
with his neck strained while teammates gathered around him in
celebration. That was the first of two more touchdowns he would
score, and the Falcons would go on to win 44–0.
After the game, I followed Kenzie out of the stands outside, and
we walked around the stadium to the east end. “What are we
doing?”
“Waiting for Justin.”
A small crowd of people began congregating around and soon
players started coming out looking freshly showered in street
clothing. Kenzie grabbed my arm. “There he is. Come on.” I let her
drag me along.
 When Justin’s baby blues landed on my friend, he broke out in a
huge smile.
“Good game, babe,” Kenzie gushed and threw her arms around
his neck. I glanced around awkwardly while they kissed and spotted
Nick passing through the crowd.
“Theo, you wanna go?”
My attention was drawn back to my roomie who dangled over
Justin like a human necklace. “Where?”
“There’s a party tonight at a friend’s place off campus,” Justin
supplied as his hands wrapped around my friend’s hips.
“She’s going,” Kenzie filled in before I could answer.
“Sure,” I said with caution. On one hand, I wanted to avoid
another possible unpleasant confrontation, but on the other, I chided
myself for being a coward. Why not? It was stupid, really, to let one
person piss on my parade. Who knew if he’d be there anyway? And
if he was? I shrugged off the thought.
“You came.” I heard a deep voice behind me.
I turned and Nick stood with arms crossed and a cocky smile on
his face.
“Yeah. Good game.”
“Thanks.” He dipped his chin. “There’s a party tonight at my
house…”
“She knows,” Justin said behind me and released his hold on
Kenzie to fist bump Nick’s hand.
“You gonna make it out there?”
I thumbed my hair behind my ear. “Yeah. I’ll be there.”
“Nick, let’s roll!” I looked up to see Axel dressed like he just
finished a photo shoot with GQ signaling with his index finger a few
feet away impatiently.
 “I’ll see you tonight.” He brushed my chin with his thumb,
flashing his teeth before he took off in the direction of his friend.
Despite the excitement I was feeling, self-doubt once again drifted in
my brain cells. Own it, I reminded myself.

Music floated through the air as Kenzie and I walked up the long
driveway filled with expensive SUVs, tricked up jeeps and sports
cars. Damn, Nick was a high roller. I could tell by the modern house
that was somewhat isolated on private cul de sac surrounded by
trees. This place must have cost a fortune. It seemed it was situated
a block away from other impressive homes in this neighborhood, but
only about fifteen minutes from campus. Kenzie had driven and
parked down the street behind a stream of cars that already lined
the curbs for at least a mile long.
The music from inside was so loud the ground vibrated as we
neared the front door. A few people were hanging out with drinks in-
hand talking. Kenzie opened the door, and the house was crazy-
packed with people bumping and grinding to the beat. We threaded
through the crowd, and I almost felt claustrophobic. When we finally
made it through the living room, I’d already been bumped by a
hundred people. I was ready to either have a drink, pop a Xanax, or
down both at the same time.
“Kenzie!” Justin was leaning against the island in the kitchen,
and Nick was next to him. His eyes fell on me, and that never-
ending cock-sure tilt of his mouth he always carried was on full
display.
She was at Justin’s side, and several bottles of liquor and soft
drinks crowded the counter.
“Hey you.” Nick stepped close, and his eyes ran over me,
checking me out. I had on high-waist denim shorts and a cropped
tank showing a flash of stomach. “What would you like to drink?”
 I shrugged, making a show to ponder the array of bottles
displayed, as if I was some kind of connoisseur, which could’ve been
further from the truth. I noticed Justin had mixed Kenzie something
with Malibu, so I jutted my chin out. “I’ll have that, too.”
Nick made a drink and handed me the red plastic cup. Kenzie
looked up at me. “We’re going out back.”
I followed them with Nick by my side. We passed through the
wide-open doors and faced a lit rectangle-shaped pool. People were
either grouped around it in conversation, dancing around like they
were at Lollapalooza, or mugging down in lounge chairs. There were
others who were in the pool in both swimsuits and underwear, and
the night was still young. No telling when all the clothing would
come off. Probably sooner than later as more drinking commenced.
“This place is nice,” I said. Wait, did I call it nice? Nice? That
was the best description I could come up with? I must’ve been in
awe that a college kid could afford a home like this. Of course, it
was probably his family’s money. It had to be.
“It is nice,” Nick agreed.
I took a sip of my drink, staring around trying to think of
something to say. Something that didn’t make me sound like an
idiot. Words didn’t flow freely like my friend, Kenzie, who was
standing a few feet away with Justin flipping her hair as she spoke
with her mouth moving animatedly to the small group around them.
I felt a nudge on my upper arm. Nick bent in. “Did you want a
tour of the house?”
I lifted a shoulder. “Sure.”
Before he led me away, a thick arm wrapped around his neck.
“You better fuckin’ pay up, man.” Axel popped up behind him holding
him in a fake chokehold, cackling. “I beat you!”
Nick shook his head, shoving Axel’s arm aside. “It was one time.
I usually annihilate you.”
 “Doesn’t matter. I beat you when it mattered. When there’s
money on the table, you bet your ass I’m gonna win.” Axel looked up
at me and grinned. “Hey, Theo.”
“Hi.” I lifted a hand in some stupid wave that I made a mental
note to not ever do again. Axel and Nick continued talking trash
about whatever bet they had, while I observed them; they both
looked intimidating in build. Axel was a running back on the team
and he’d run rampant in the game earlier, scoring at least two
touchdowns. I wondered if they were friends with Roman? Was he
even here? I shook off the thought, hoping he wasn’t. Although I
spoke bravely earlier, I really didn’t want a repeat of the other night.
As their conversation heated, Nick beamed with a challenging
gleam in his eye. “You know what, Ax? Let’s go, I want a rematch. If
you’ve got the balls that is. Double down, bro.”
“You really wanna wager a thousand dollars?” Axel raised an
eyebrow at him.
What the hell were they wagering on? Who had that much
money to just throw away? Obviously, these guys.
“You feeling lucky, bitch? Then lets go again,” Nick goaded.
“All right. Let’s do this.”
Axel downed his drink and turned to head back inside. Nick took
my hand and nodded toward the house. “Come on, Theo. Let’s go.”
“Where?”
“To the lair.” Say what? The lair? Was this some kind of fight
club or something?
“Relax. It’s a game room.” Nick chuckled as though reading my
worried face like an open book. “We’re just playing NBA 2K20.”
“Okay.” Whatever that meant. Still, my expression was puzzled.
“It’s just a video game.” Nick tapped my nose. “You’re too cute,”
he teased, leading me with him, while I cautiously looked behind me
to see where Kenzie was, but she was nowhere in sight. Passing
through the packed house, the sea of partiers seemed to
disintegrate quickly at his sight, leaving an open path. What was it
with football players here that everyone gave them a wide berth?
We passed through the kitchen, and the crowd kind of thinned out
as we walked down a long hallway and turned right, descending
down concrete stairs. Did I mention this house was massive? I didn’t
even know it was multi-leveled. From the outside, it looked like an
oversized one-story house.
When we reached the bottom step, there was a stately black
door that almost looked like a vault. Jeez, were we going to a
dungeon? Should I be nervous I was following a guy I barely knew
into a room that was closed off from the rest of the house?
“It’s all good,” Nick reassured me.
When he opened the door, a hazy cloud filled the room along
with an acrid smell of pot and cigarettes. I followed him in and saw
a ginormous flat screen on a wall and an oversized leather sectional
with people sitting around, Axel was among them jawing nonstop to
some other guy beside him who had a girl in his lap clad only in a
bra and a micro-mini skirt grinding against him.
“Let’s get you a refill.” Nick guided me over to another corner of
the grand room that was equipped with a wet bar and enough liquor
to host a music festival and full-size refrigerator. A billiards table was
set in the middle of the room, and two beefy looking men were
circling around with pool sticks chattering about tonight’s game. Nick
took my cup and uncapped a bottle of Malibu, obviously
remembering what I had earlier, although I watched him as he
poured making sure he didn’t roofie my drink. I didn’t really think he
would.
High-pitched laughter drew my attention across the room. Guys
and girls were assembled at a round table playing cards. “You
cheated!” a female voice squealed, throwing down her cards in a
fake huff and then unhooked her bra as her generous boobs spilled
out, while the other participants ogled and cheered. Some whipped
out their phones taking videos. Maybe this was a mistake coming
down here. Maybe I should just relax and let go. Why did I keep
questioning myself?
“Here you go.” Nick laid the cup in my hand and nodded toward
the sofa. He didn’t seem to care there were half-naked women in the
room. Was this an everyday occurrence for him? Shut up, brain.
“Time for me to kick my friend’s ass.” His lips curled up boyishly with
a gentle nudge at my back. As we reached the already-filled couch,
Nick’s eyes slanted to Axel, who clicked the buttons on his controller
before he signaled to the two girls sitting beside him. “Move,” Nick
said in impatience; the smile never left his face. I guess he thought
he was being polite, lessening the blow. The girls’ faces scrunched
up as they glanced at Axel, who was focused on the game before
slowly rising in annoyance.
“Hey, why the fuck you sending away my fan club?” Axel asked,
although his eyes were still glued to the screen, not sounding too
worried about it. Finally, he graced them with his attention, flashing
his pearly whites and dimples. “I’ll hook up with y’all later.”
Not you. Y’all.
That answer seemed to appease them, and the girls both made
I heart U eyes at him before they strutted off.
Nick sat down and patted the space beside him, and I lowered
down on the plush leather seat. He slung an arm on the back of the
couch behind me, leaving space not completely crowding me in. I
felt his fingers brush my shoulder, and my eyes widened at the
theater-sized screen in front of me.
Twisting his head at Axel, Nick prodded, “Are we playing or
what?”
“I’ve been here, son, just been waiting on your prima donna
ass.” Axel scoffed.
Nick leaned around Axel to the dark-haired guy with the girl in
his lap who was draped all over him with her tits in his face. “Tell
fuck boy to give me the remote. Is he even playing the game?”
 “Not well. Fucker thinks he is, but he also thinks he can
multitask the game and her and handle his liquor.” Axel nudged the
guy next to him. “Dmitri, give over the remote. Nick wants to play.”
“I can multitask and handle my liquor, asshole, I’m Russian.”
Dmitri shifted the girl on his lap as his face made an appearance
from behind a veil of chocolate brown hair. His puffy lips were well-
kissed and swollen but lifted in an arrogant tilt, and giving zero
fucks, he tossed the controller across to Nick.
Nick and Axel both burst out laughing as though sharing an
inside joke. Axel finally said, “Let’s play.”
“Hey, it’s about fucking time you showed up!” Someone shouted
behind me and I craned my neck out of curiosity. And I knew. Call it
a sixth sense. Call it common sense because half the football team
was here, so it was only natural he’d be here too.
Theodora

Roman was here. It was like his presence made everyone demand
his attention. His dark hair was thick on top and recklessly styled. He
wore a black T-shirt and dark jeans. His cool eyes scanned the room
with no emotion as he shifted on his feet while some guy was
nudging him and talking non-stop. Roman hated small talk.
Regardless, I felt anxiety in my chest seeing him so close. Perhaps I
should’ve been more apprehensive, because it didn’t take long
before he saw me, and the unease sped up double-time as I was
caught in his relentless gaze, while stark darkness filled his eyes. He
was several feet away from me across the expansive room, but it
didn’t seem far enough. Even worse when he took a step forward in
my direction. I held my breath, preparing myself for another
uncomfortable encounter.
All the bravado inner pep talks I gave myself about not caring
whether I saw him again were beginning to get skittish and threaten
to run and hide like frightened cats. Reality beat me over the head.
Hanging around a crowd of adoring fans was his domain, and I
should’ve steered clear of him. In my defense, it’s not like I sought
him out nor knew we’d even end up at the same school. As far as I
knew, Roman had interest in going to one of the bigger colleges in
the SEC. But that was in the past…much like our history. He took a
few more steps closer, his jaw tightened with determination as
though he were on a mission to truly destroy me.
 “Roman, there you are.” A girl with jet black hair stepped in
front of him. Someone who looked very familiar. Whose family was
just as wealthy, if not more so than the Martinez family. Taylor
Shields. He kept his glare on me as Taylor was coaxing him into
making her a drink, signaling to the bar. Finally, he relented and
allowed her to lead him to the back of the room.
I turned to Nick, who was focused on the video game talking
smack to his friend. “Where’s the restroom?”
“Go back up the stairs, and it’s the second door on the left. If
it’s full, just use the one in my room at the very end of the hall.”
I rose and went over to the door flashing a glance to my right to
catch his eyes again, watching me like I was a wounded rabbit in an
open field. Soon, he turned his head at something Taylor said and
his face wasn’t so severe. Peeling my eyes away, I slipped out and
made my way up the steps. How my heart could beat faster with
unease and yet sink to my stomach at the same time was pathetic. I
was still trying to digest how we’d come to this. My thoughts rifled
through an internal folder of memories. Remembering how there
was a time when Roman’s face softened around me. He’d always
been someone who was somewhat withdrawn and serious around
everyone, although he was the person everyone gravitated around
at school, at parties, everywhere really. Back then he never let his
guard down, but he would around me. Until all hell broke loose.
When I emerged from the stairs, there were several people
congregating around a closed door, a solid line waiting for the
bathroom, so I continued down the long hall until I reached the end.
Opening the door, I turned on the light and gazed around Nick’s
room. He had a queen-sized bed with a plaid comforter, a dresser,
and nightstand. Some football paraphernalia and a few family
photos. I picked up one of the photos seeing him in his football
uniform in between an older man and woman who I assumed were
his parents. Both were blond and striking as well. Setting it down, I
made a move to the bathroom. At least, it smelled somewhat clean
and looked tidy. When I took care of business and washed my
hands, I flicked off the light, opened the bathroom door and saw the
motion of a tall figure pass through the door. The enemy was upon
me.
“You don’t listen very well, do you?” Roman’s deep, contempt-
laced voice bounced off the walls above the muffled background
noise from the living room. The bedroom door was now closed, and
he leaned against it with his arms overlapped.
“What do you want?” I stood my ground fighting something
bubbling inside. Maybe it was fear, or maybe it was the thought of
challenging him, I didn’t know. Lord knew he was hate-glaring at me
with a sick smile on his face. I’d seen that look before when he was
on the football field after an opposing defender fucked with and
taunted him before he went off like a madman. He thrived on
getting the best of someone. Thrived on winning. Knowing that
information, a saner person would’ve sprinted back in the bathroom,
locked the door and called for help. I rubbed my palms over my
shorts. “I was invited. You do know what that word means?”
“Well, I’m uninviting you.” He pushed off the door, stalking
closer with his never-ending resolve when he set his mind on
something, while I fought the urge to run. However, I dug in my
heels. The two drinks I’d downed gave me courage. Not saying that
was the smartest decision. Or best justification.
“Uninviting me?” I paused deliberately, tilting my head in
question. “Oh wait. I’m sorry, but who the hell do you think you
are?” I goaded, shrouded with my shield of fake confidence, but a
twisting in my stomach reminded me I wasn’t completely immune to
this dread. To him.
His footsteps reverberated against the hardwood as he neared;
his unmistakable scent of maleness and dominance ruled my senses.
He didn’t stop until his chest pressed mine, crowding me in. A vein
in his neck bulged as he craned over me. His thick chest rose and
fell slowly with his every breath as he nosed around my face like a
German Shepard picking up a scent. Finally, lowering his head under
my chin as he whispered, “I’m the one who haunts your dreams. So
if you want to save face, I would suggest you get the fuck out.”
The air felt too thick to breathe, and our bodies were a hair’s
breadth away. He was intimidating, which was his goal, wasn’t it?
However, I countered, “You must be mistaken to think your threats
mean anything. What are you? An eight-year-old on the playground
playing bully?”
As soon as the words came out, fingers dug into my arm. I
fought to yank away, but it was futile. He warned softly, “No. Just
trying to get rid of the trash. By the way what the hell are you doing
in my friend’s room?”
“Screw you, Roman, you have no say in what I do. Nick invited
me.”
“Nick?” he growled, showing his teeth. His eyes darkened, a
brewing blackness was unleashing, growing more frightening with
each passing second.
I think I’d reached my limit of his stupid scowls and threats. I
grinned brightly. “Yep. His house. His party. Now run along and sulk
somewhere else.”
“That’s funny considering this is my fucking house too.” He lived
here. He actually lived here. Of course he did.
“What’s your point?”
“My point is, these run-ins are beginning to irk me like an
uncomfortable thorn in my side. Kind of painful, but more annoying.”
“Oh, I’m sorry you feel that way.” Sarcasm oozed from my
mouth. “Since it seems like it’s you who holds a grudge and prolongs
our chance meetings. What will you do, drag me out by my hair and
throw me out the front door?”
One side of his mouth curled in a snarl. “You underestimate me,
again. I wouldn’t need to.” His eyes raked over me with something
more than distaste and a worn, familiar feeling slipped through me.
He added in a cool tone, “Did Nick send you to his room to wait
obediently for him like the sweet, innocent girl you portray yourself
to be? Hmm?” He curled a finger under my chin. “Did he?” My lips
flattened refusing to rise to the bait. He bent closer; his words
floated over my lips. “We both know that’s not true, don’t we?”
I turned my head away, saddened he thought so low of me.
“You don’t know me anymore.”
“I know you better than anyone here, including Nick.” He
gripped my chin again forcing me to face him. “Maybe I should
reconsider this situation.”
“There is no situation.”
“Oh, but there is. You think I would stand by and let my friend
get fucked over by you?”
I jerked my chin away taking a step back. “Fine. If you want me
to leave, I will.”
He edged in on me with nostrils flared like a beast that’d just
been awakened. “Too late. I’ve changed my mind.”
I swallowed although my throat had gone dry. “Why?”
He shrugged with his eyes devoid of emotion.
“Do you hate me so much?”
“Hate is a weak emotion, Theodora.” He reached out and lightly
traced my collarbone.
“What is it you want, Roman?” My voice shook as my skin
quivered beneath his touch.
“Maybe I want to fuck you so hard until you have me etched in
your memories. Until I forget what a heartless liar you truly are.”
“Don’t.” I shoved at his chest, but he pressed in closer.
“Does the truth hurt?” His hips swiveled into mine feeling his
erection through our clothing. He was hard.
My eyes brows shot up startled by his apparent hatred and lust.
“You’re so wrong. This is wrong.”
 His finger trailed lower dragging down the hem of my top until it
bunched at the valley of my chest. His lips curled in a cruel grin.
“Don’t act like you have a conscience now. It doesn’t suit you.” His
finger stroked the swell of my breast.
I blinked trying to gather my senses. “You’re insane.”
“That may be true,” he retorted while his thumb traced slow
circles against my skin. He was an evil temptation cloaked in a
smooth warning. Roman was toying with me. I felt the unbridled
fury in his soft touch. I knew him too well. He added, “I wonder
what Nick would say if he walked in and saw your flushed cheeks
right now. How your lips are parted begging to be kissed. Or saw
your legs wrapped around my hips as I drove into your tight cunt.”
I curled my fingers around his hand flinging it to the side. He
was an egotistical dickhead. “That’s all this is isn’t it? You’re trying to
prove a point.”
“If I wanted to prove a point.” He slapped a palm on the wall
near my head caging me in. “It wouldn’t be difficult.”
I dug my nails into my palms, trying to keep my composure.
“Oh, sure. Here’s an excessively obvious point. I will never sleep
with you again.”
His intense eyes never fled mine. “Is that so?”
I nodded, never breaking our gaze. Minutes seemed to pass as
we stared. “I need to find Nick.” I made a move to scoot around him
but he clamped down hard on my shoulder.
“Stay away from him.”
I wouldn’t even grace him with an answer. “Let go, Roman. Or
—”
“Or what? What will you do? Enlighten me.”
His smug look was goading me, and I reacted without thinking,
doing something I only thought worked in movies. I swung my leg
up with all my might, shoving my knee into his crotch. Even as
tough as Roman was, he doubled over with a sharp exhale, cursing
my name. It was enough time to slip around him out of the room. I
fought the bubble of adrenaline rushing through me and passed
through the hall contemplating where I would go. Instinct had me
heading through the living room, searching for Kenzie and finding a
ride home. I scanned the room filled wall-to-wall with a crowd of
people waving their hands in the air, bumping and grinding like this
was the biggest music festival of the year. There was a snowball’s
chance in hell I’d find my roomie through this sea of people.
“Hey, where’ve you been? I thought I’d have to call out a search
party to find you.” Nick was at my side with a protective hand across
my shoulder, shielding more people from bumping into me.
I thought about Roman’s threat. Then, I shrugged and said, “I
wanted to tell Kenzie something, but…”
He studied my face with concern. “Is everything good? You
want me to take you home?”
I eyed the red cup in Nick’s hand and took it from him, sipping
the remainder of his drink feeling reckless and still riding my high.
“No.” I decided I wasn’t going to allow him to ruin my night ever
again.
“Okay. Cool.” Eventually he guided me away from the crowd.
Back down the hallway that was now semi-crowded. Back to the lair.
Ignoring the warning in my head to leave while I had the chance. I
knew I was tempting the devil, but at this point, I didn’t care.
Roman

I lost it. I was a fucking idiot, and when I saw her in my house
sitting next to Nick. Then, when she admitted being here because of
Nick. It’s like my control went up in flames. Get it. The fuck.
Together. I smoothed a hand over my shirt and stepped into the lair,
scoping out the crowd disdainfully, playing my part, but I wasn’t
really seeing anything. Diversion at its finest. I did my usual, but the
night was different from any other when we hosted a party.
I should’ve been pumped on a natural high. I should’ve been
acting the fool and chugging drinks like all my friends, lapping up
the attention that people so desperately laid on me. I should’ve been
thankful the Falcons were getting national attention after the game
today. We were a small private school nobody really knew about.
When I’d first stepped on campus, we were unknown. But now
people would know our name…Tonight, I knew the stakes and had
one of my best games ever. We’d defeated our hated rivals who
were favored to overtake us in most sports polls before the game.
Belated newsflash with spoilers—they didn’t.
Even that didn’t soothe the seething rage threatening to boil
over when I’d stepped into this room earlier and saw Theodora
sitting next to one of my best friends. Which was irrational, actually,
at face value. Except to me, it wasn’t. Hence, the reason I slipped
away and followed her into Nick’s room with the intent to kick her
ass out. However, I didn’t. Now, my balls were whining about the
way I handled the situation. Literally. Fucking pussies.
“Roman, smile, you just had one of your best games ever.”
Taylor snapped her fingers in front of my face. “You’ve been staring
into space like a whacked out weirdo for five minutes.”
I took a sip and gave her my attention. “I’m fine. Just wound
up.”
“Try to take down your intensity.” She held up two fingers. “Just
a notch.”
I tossed my drink back resolving myself to get rip-roaring drunk.
To hell with Theodora. Why was I even wasting my energy on
her? She’s the one who invaded my space. She’s the one who’d
ripped my heart out when she turned everything we had into
something ugly.
Then, I saw the heavy door to the room open.
And I saw her.
A halo of blond mussed hair bounced with each step she took.
Green eyes glittered with defiance as she flitted across the
room.
On the arm of Nick.
On the fucking arm of my best friend.
She didn’t listen. She didn’t heed my warning.
A thorn in my side she was, I heard a brash crunch echo in my
ears, realizing I crushed the plastic cup in my hand.

Theodora

“Do you want me to walk you up to your room?” Nick had one arm
slung carelessly over the steering wheel of his Ford F-150 Raptor.
 “I can manage. Thank you for taking me home.” I fought a
yawn. Kenzie and Justin wanted to go eat breakfast at the local all-
late night café where all the college kids flocked to and Nick had
joined us. Somehow, it kind of happened that Kenzie rode with
Justin and I ended up with Nick. Not that I was complaining. It was
nice to hang around someone who was fun and charming. Nice to
not feel my heart threatening to crash through my chest bone in a
rush of apprehension. Being with Nick was just nice. And that was
exactly what I needed. Although, I wasn’t immune to the dark gazes
I received throughout the evening from Roman while he partied with
his friends and had Taylor at his side. Surprisingly, he didn’t try to
publicly throw me out or confront me. Maybe he came to his senses.
Or he didn’t deem me so important. Would he always be on my
mind? Stupid girl. Clearly, I was still buzzing from the drinks I had
earlier.
“Not a problem. I like you, Theo.” He slid out of his seat, walked
with a confident swagger around the truck to open my door, helping
me step out. His hand was warm and big as he kept his hold, but it
didn’t send tingles up my skin. Nick was charismatic and looked like
the poster boy for any girl’s ideal dream date. He felt safe and had a
comfortable air about him.
His blue eyes crinkled under the lamplight in the campus
parking lot as we stood. I glanced behind me at the dorms. “Well,
thanks again.” I shifted my feet, not knowing what to say, wondering
if he was going to try to kiss me.
“My pleasure.” He rolled his lips as he continued peering at me.
My hand was still engulfed in his. “Good night, beautiful,” he said
softly and leaned in kissing me on the cheek, his lips lingering before
he pulled away.
I flitted my hand in the air awkwardly. “Good night.” I walked
steadily to the dorms and heard the roar of Nick’s truck engine
behind me. He didn’t drive off until I made it safely through the front
entrance.
Another random document with
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respect—but because he was jealous of every token of affection
bestowed on another by the parents he so passionately adored. The
proud, reserved and thoughtful child could not call forth those little
endearments which the more vivacious nature of his brother
provoked, but he longed for them none the less.
However, the gay, handsome boy died—died in his twelfth year—and
left Leger the sole idol of his parents. He mourned for his brother
deeply, he reproached himself secretly with every unkind thought he
had ever entertained—and yet, as the months rolled on, he was
conscious that he was happier now that his path was no longer
crossed by a rival in the love of his parents. So the fault lay in his
nature, undeveloped but not exterminated. It was not a mean
jealousy—that is, it never stooped to trouble itself about rivals in
fame or position—he never did a dishonorable act toward a rival
schoolmate—nor, in later days, threw obstacles in the way of, or
judged selfishly, those striving for success in his own profession. It
was only that when he loved, he wanted, in return for his own almost
startling passion, the whole interest and devotion of its object.
A man of such character would not be apt to flutter among the young
ladies of his circle of society, or to fix his choice lightly upon the
woman whom he should select to become his wife. So it chanced
that at twenty-five he was still unmarried. At this time Dr. Carollyn,
his father, passed away, leaving his son inheritor of the family-
mansion, of the wealth which a long and lucrative practice had
amassed, and of that practice itself, made valuable by the prestige of
the parent's name. The mother had died nearly six years before, so
that Leger Carollyn stood alone, with no relations either near or dear
to him.
He had one friend, Maurice Gurnell, his classmate in college and his
equal in society, a member of an old New York family of French
extraction, and, as might be expected, the opposite in temperament
of the young physician, possessing all the grace and gayety, the
fluency of speech, and the love of the world which distinguishes his
progenitors. Leger admired and loved his fascinating and brilliant
companion, who esteemed and admired him in return; each being
best pleased with those traits in the other most contrasted with his
own.
While yet weighed down with deep melancholy by the loss of his
father, Leger Carollyn was called, one night, to the bedside of a
dying woman. The house to which he was summoned stood in a
respectable, though not the most fashionable part of the city; the
name he recognized as that of a family once well known to his father
and always highly regarded by him, although much reduced from
former affluence, and not mingling at all with general society for the
past few years.
Leger himself had never been to the house, and knew nothing in
particular of its inmates. His father had been their physician, and he
was now summoned to fill the place of the departed. Upon entering
the chamber of the sick lady, he saw at once that she was beyond
the aid of humanity; she seemed, herself, to be aware of it, for she
said, as he approached her bed:
"I am sensible that you can do nothing for me, Doctor. I would not
have troubled you, if my child had not insisted upon it. Annie?"
At the call of that dying voice, strangely thrilling and clear, a young
girl upon the opposite side of the bed raised her head from where it
had been hidden in the pillow, and looked at him with eyes which
asked the question her grieving lips refused to utter. She was the
only relative by the bed of death—an old nurse dozing in a chair, and
the servant who had admitted him, lingering by the door, as loth to
go, being her only attendants.
As he looked at the forlorn young creature and met her despairing
eyes, a feeling of pity, that was absolute anguish, seized upon the
heart of Dr. Carollyn. The circumstances reminded him so vividly of
his own recent bereavement, when he stood sole mourner by a
parent's dying bed, that his deepest sympathies were aroused. He
passed around to her side, and lifting her nerveless hand pressed it
in his own, as he said, in answer to her mute appeal:
"You must resign your mother, my dear child; but God will still be with
you."
The dying woman detected the tremble in his tone—it seemed as if
some glimpse of the future revealed itself to her in that moment; she
said, in the same clear voice:
"You are like your father, Dr. Carollyn. He was always one of my best
friends. I hope that you will be a friend to my child, for she has not
many. I am willing to trust her to you. She has neither father or
brother. She will not be dependent, except for friendship. She is so
young, so unused to doing for herself—ah, it is hard to leave you
alone, my Annie, but I leave you with God. Annie—Annie—be calm. I
am."
The Doctor saw that the final moment would soon arrive, and felt as
if he ought not to leave that fragile young thing to bear the shock
alone. He remained, until, in the gray dawn, the spirit left earth, and
the desolate child sunk fainting into his arms.
When he had revived her, and restored her to the nurse, and to the
female servant, who seemed much attached to her, he asked if there
were no friends for whom he could send.
"Ah, botheration," said the weeping servant, "there's nobody nigher'n
cousins, and they're far away. But there's friends and neighbors
enough, as will come if they're wanted. I'll go for 'em meself."
That morning Dr. Carollyn was aroused from the slumber into which
he had dropped, after his night's unrest, by the entrance of his friend,
whom the servants had orders to admit at all seasons.
"In bed yet? Were you up last night? I'm glad I'm not a physician—I
like my ease too well."
"Yes, Maurice, I attended a dying lady last night. I've been dreaming
about it. It was so sad. She left a daughter not more than sixteen,
and without a relative in the world."
"Was it any one we knew?"
"It was Mrs. St. John—her husband was a scientific man, and
wasted much of their property in experiments. So I've heard my
father say, who liked him very much—their tastes were similar."
"St. John? and the daughter's name is Annie? I know the family. Paul
St. John has displayed many a chemical wonder to me, in days gone
by, when I was a boy and used to steal visits to his laboratory. Annie
was a wee thing, then, golden-headed and blue-eyed. I've met her
occasionally of late days—she's one of the sweetest flowers that e'er
the sun shone on—and dark blue is her e'e, and for bonnie Annie St.
John, I'd lay me down and dee. That is, I wouldn't—for I'm not given
to such things—but you would, Leger, after you've known her awhile.
Yes," he resumed after a pause, during which he had stood by the
window in a reverie unusually long for his butterfly nature, "Annie St
John is the girl for you, Leger. You are so exacting—you want the
whole heart and soul of some woman, and she's just the one. She is
situated like yourself—not a near relative to dispute your place in her
affections. She'd worship you, I know she would—it's in her! By
George, but she's beautiful; and she must be accomplished, for her
mother was one of the rarest women I ever knew. Ha! ha! Leger,
wouldn't it disappoint some of our brilliant belles, if you should go
outside the conservatory and gather such a dainty flower?"
"Hush, Maurice, don't talk in this manner, while that poor young thing
is breaking her heart beside her mother's corpse."
"It's not because I'm not sorry for her," said Maurice, more soberly.
"But I saw such a pretty romance developing."
"As usual, you're building your castles out of nothing but air,"
responded his friend, gravely, and began talking of other subjects;
and this one was never again resumed between them.
It was not many months after this that Maurice Gurnell resolved upon
spending a year or more in Paris—his mother had relatives there,
and the prospect was pleasing to one of his tastes. He tried hard to
persuade Dr. Carollyn to go with him, urging that the benefit and
pleasure he would derive from a study of his science in Paris would
amply repay him. But the doctor had, in his father's lifetime, spent a
year in that city, and did not now feel like deserting his large circle of
patients for so long a time.
There was, also, a dearer interest binding him; but of this, in the
reticence of his proud nature, he as yet said nothing.
He was following up his acquaintance with Annie St. John. Under the
sanction of that friendship which her dying mother had desired and
which his universal reputation upheld, he was studying the mind and
heart of the child-woman, and drawing her on, first to respect and
confide in him, then to feel his strong nature a help and a necessity,
then to fully and unreservedly love, to passionately adore him—even
as he already fully loved and trusted her.
It was not until he felt certain that her soul was absorbed in his, that
he spoke of his love to its object. The response he got was such as
to satisfy his exacting nature. He had indeed no rivals, not even in
the admiration of general society; for Annie, though fitted to shine
among the fairest, a woman of whom he knew he should be proud,
had lived a secluded life, owing to the tastes of her father, and the
necessity of economy which he had occasioned even before his
death. Her few friends were all among refined and cultivated people,
who loved and appreciated her, but these were few and of the quiet
kind. The small property left her kept her independently as a boarder
with one of her mother's friends, and furnished her with a handsome
trousseau when she came to prepare for her marriage.
When Dr. Carollyn was known to be repairing and refurnishing the
family mansion, fitting it up richly with more than its pristine splendor,
report said, of course, that it was for a bride. But who the bride was
to be, not half-a-dozen persons knew, until she was presented to his
friends in the drawing-room of her new home as Mrs. Dr. Carollyn.
Her beauty and accomplishments could not be caviled at by the most
envious of disappointed belles—her family was unexceptionable, if
not wealthy and as for those lovely traits of character which made
her what she was, the husband cared not to have the world guess at
half her worth. It was enough for his pride that when in society she
received the most distinguished consideration; and enough for his
love, that at home she made him the happiest man in the world. The
three months of their wedded life had been all that we like to imagine
for youth and beauty, hightened by every favoring circumstance of
worldly prosperity.
 CHAPTER IV.
JEALOUSY.
All my fond love thus do I blow to heaven
—
'Tis gone!
Arise, black vengeance, from thy hollow
cell!
Yield up, O love, thy crown and hearted
throne
To tyrannous hate!——
——Of one, whose hand,
Like the base Judean, threw a pearl
away
Richer than all his tribe.—Shakspeare's
Othello.
It would seem to have been the plainest duty of Dr. Carollyn to have
asked his wife, at once, how the miniature of his friend chanced to
be in her possession, and to have received from her such
explanations as she had to give, from which he might judge for
himself. But when men are beside themselves with anger, love,
jealousy, or any other mastering passion, they rush away from the
simple, straight-forward dictates of common sense, striking blindly at
whatever impedes them.
When he left the house his heart was on fire. He walked distractedly
up one street and down another. No sooner would the vision of his
wife, all purity, rise before him in its matchless beauty, than the
memory of her hesitation, her blushes, and all the suspicious
incidents of this evening would rush before it. A jealousy, before
which all previous developments of it had been like the breath of
morning before the midnight whirlwind, swept through him, leaving
every thing joyful in his nature a prostrate ruin.
Yet he would be calm! He would not misjudge his friend, much less
would he misjudge his own wife! He would be calm—as cool and
dispassionate as if he were a juryman on trial of a stranger. He
would wait, watch, and not in any manner change his usual ways, so
as to excite the surprise of the interested parties. Oh no! he would
not distrust his Annie, until the certainty of her deception made
further trust in her impossible! And with feelings the gall of whose
bitterness proved that he had already prejudged her, he set to
himself the task of spy upon his wife.
It was midnight when he returned from his tramp through the chilly
streets. Annie was sitting up for him, in their chamber, a loose robe
thrown about her, and her bright hair, all unbound, rippling over her
shoulders. His melting heart was hardened again, as he observed
that her writing desk had just been pushed away from her, and that
the locket lay in a half-closed drawer, with a letter she had just
sealed. He had not known of her having any correspondents, aside
from occasional complimentary notes to and from friends in the city.
The face of the envelope lay up, and his lightning glance devoured
the address—Mademoiselle Victoire Gurnell.
"There is no Gurnell of that name," he cried to himself. "Maurice's
sisters are both married, and he has no cousins in this country. Of
course I should know of them. What a flimsy disguise! A secret
correspondence under an assumed name! Was ever man so
betrayed?"
"I have been so lonely," said the young wife, closing the drawer with
one hand, as she laid the other on his own. "It's the first evening you
have left me so long; but I presume you and Maurice were talking
over old times—so I excuse you. Why, Leger, your hand is as cold as
ice!"
"Your constancy will warm it," he said, with a laugh.
It was a hollow laugh, with a strange ring to it; but the pretty wife was
sleepy, though she would not have owned it possible, and she did
not observe its peculiarity. In ten minutes she was slumbering
peacefully. Her husband had laid himself by her side; as soon as her
regular breathing announced that she was sleeping, he slipped from
the bed. Twice and thrice he paced the room, approaching the little
writing-desk at every turn, and again shrinking away. Never in his life
had Dr. Carollyn done a dishonorable act; yet now he was hesitating
about a deed from which his honor recoiled. The jealousy which
mastered him soon put an end to the mental contest; he softly
opened the unlocked drawer, drew forth the letter, carefully broke the
seal, took out the folded sheet, and read:
"Dear Victoire—Be patient and hopeful. All is going well. You will
soon be the happiest of the happy. I will meet you to-morrow
afternoon at the place we appointed.
"Annie."
He returned the note to the envelope and resealed it with such
caution as to leave no trace of what had occurred to it.
Mrs. Carollyn would certainly have noticed the haggard appearance
of her husband, carefully as he strove to appear well and happy, if
her own mind had not been unusually preoccupied. When they came
to the breakfast-table, she forgot to put sugar in his coffee, and
made several little mistakes about which he should have rallied her,
if they, also, in his mind had not been "trifles light as air," which were,
to him, "confirmation strong as proofs of Holy Writ."
"I've been thinking," she said, as she followed him into the study,
where he usually spent an hour after breakfast before going to his
office, "that it would be pleasant and proper to give a party in honor
of Maurice Gurnell. We expected to give one soon, in return for the
abundance showered upon us, and this appears to me a charming
occasion. What do you say, Leger?"
"I say so too, Annie. Give him a party, by all means!"
"Shall we have it a splendid affair, darling? Do you give me carte
blanche? Sit down here, and tell me something of how you would
like it to be, for I'd like to get out my invitations to-day—we ought to
have it as soon as possible."
"I've no time to spend on such matters. There are the sick and dying
waiting for my advice. Arrange your festival as you please. Only
have it as magnificent as it should be—don't fail to have it
magnificent! When the burning building crushes to its fall it always
gives out the brightest blaze of splendor." And he left his paper
unread, hurrying from the house.
"Leger is certainly a little distrait this morning. He's worried to death
with his practice; he doesn't get rest enough. Oh dear, I wish he
were not so good a physician—or else that so many people wouldn't
get sick," and the young wife knitted her fair brow, perplexed to think
people would fall ill in this bright, beautiful world, and wondering
what she should first set on foot to bring affairs out right in the
briefest time.
"If Leger only knew my object in giving this party! But Maurice wishes
to surprise him as well as the rest of the world. I don't wonder they
accuse women of being unable to keep a secret; I'm sure it's hard for
me to keep mine away from my darling. Ah, if he only knew—I've two
secrets—but I shan't tell him the dearest one until all this confusion
of the party is over," and with a blush too lovely to have been wasted
in that solitude, she lost herself in a smiling reverie.
"I've been so busy," she cried, as she flew to meet her husband, as
he came home to tea—he had not been in since morning—"and
have accomplished so much! I had the notes all written by four
o'clock, with a lady friend to help me. I sent Stephen out at noon with
the first half of them, and the others are delivered by this time I
presume. I was glad Mr. Gurnell did not come in until that part of the
work was done, as I wished to get them out to-day. He's just gone,
five minutes ago. It's set for Thursday evening—only two days; but
I've ordered the refreshments from Thompson's, and we've nothing
to do but arrange the rooms. Shall we have real flowers?"
"Real flowers? Oh, yes; nothing false about our entertainment—no
mockery of pleasure! I believe in having things what they seem to
be; don't you, Annie St. John? These snow-white lilies and japonicas
—they will be most appropriate."
"Yes, for a bride, they will be," was the innocent answer. "How like
old times it sounded to hear you call me by my maiden name!"
guessing little that he had called her that, because he had denied
her the name he had bestowed upon her.
As she leaned her head against his breast, he smoothed the hair
which glittered beneath his hand. If every separate shining strand
had thrilled him with electric fire, he could not have been more
profoundly moved. He loved this woman—this wife of his—loved her
more desperately than before he doubted her; he could not refrain
his hand from that caress if he had known that she was steeped in
falsehood. The next moment he tore it away, as if the touch of that
silken head had burned him.
"Then you did not go out this afternoon?" he asked, presently.
"No; I was intending to, but I had not time. I sent for Thompson to
come here for my orders."
"It would be better for your health if you went out every day."
He was glad when company came in, after tea. It prevented Annie
from noticing his mood—it freed him from her distracting
endearments. Maurice Gurnell was among the visitors. He staid until
the others had all gone, giving his friend a vivid and eloquent
account of what had befallen him, what he had seen, done and
heard in the last year-and-a half. Dr. Carollyn's manner was always
so quiet, that the young man noticed nothing unusual about him; but
when he had nearly exhausted his resources of foreign gossip, he
rose, with a gay laugh.
"You look tired, Leger, and I don't wonder, the way I've rattled on. I
must beg Mrs. Carollyn's pardon for engrossing you so long. It
seemed so pleasant to be talking away at you again. I say talking at
him, Mrs. Carollyn, for I always had to do all the active part of our
conversations."
How easy and graceful was his manner—how free from any
appearance of acting a part! Leger looked at the radiant face, the
enchanting smile of his handsome friend, so bright, so changeful, so
fitted to win the admiration of women, and cursed himself as a dark,
severe, repelling man, whom the fickle sex could find nothing in to
really love.
As Maurice gave his hand to Mrs. Carollyn in saying good-night,
Leger, standing apart, and seeming to be arranging a book on the
table, was certain that he heard a whispered sentence, though he
could not make out its import.
We need not dwell minutely upon the two days of intolerable torture
which intervened between this and the evening of the party. Dr.
Carollyn had wrestled with himself, and had almost thrown the
demon of jealousy which was invisibly tearing him. The last few
hours he had enjoyed comparative peace. He could have gone down
on his knees and begged pardon of the wife he had been wronging
in his thoughts, when she came into the study to look for him, to get
his opinion of her dress, and to tell him it was time to take his place
beside her in the front saloon, to receive their guests.
Whether it was because her apparel was really so becoming, or
whether the intensity of his feelings hightened every effect, certain it
is that she had never appeared so beautiful to him—not even on the
wedding-day. She wore a blue velvet dress, with the pearls which
had been his bridal gift. A wreath of matchless japonicas circled the
golden coils of hair at the back of her head, while a few glimmering
ringlets shadowed her cheeks and throat, exquisite in contour and
color.
He had reason to remember every minutest detail of dress, looks
and action, for the picture at that moment stamped upon his heart
was destined to glow there during long and desolate years,
unobscured by any more recent impressions. He sprung to his feet
and kissed her.
"You admire me, then?" she said, with a happy smile.
"You are looking beautifully, Annie."
The bell rung, and they hurried through the glittering and perfumed
vista of rooms, to take their place at the upper end. For a couple of
hours a stream of gay people poured into the saloons. It was
destined to be a brilliant party; for, in addition to the luxury of the
apartments, the host and hostess were in just that mood which made
their guests most delightful.
"A wife improves Dr. Carollyn. I never saw him so brilliant," remarked
everybody.
When the tide of pleasure was at its hight; when all had arrived and
the music was loudest, the dancers whirling; when the heat and light
had called out the full perfume of the flowers not yet beginning to
wither, a shadow fell upon Dr. Carollyn. His wife had disappeared; so
had Maurice Gurnell, who had been flashing his wit and mirth amidst
the company collected in his honor. Striving to conquer his
uneasiness, Leger waited, while moment after moment rolled away,
to him like hours.
"Perhaps they have gone to look at the supper-table;" and unable to
resist his maddening suspicions, but trying to believe that he was not
suspicious, he descended to the supper-room, where the last
touches were being given by skillful servants to the elegant table.
Again he passed through the thronged apartments, through the
dancing saloons, into the conservatory, the little study, out upon a
little balcony, chill with the winter twilight. They were in none of
these. He ascended to the dressing-rooms, passing on until he
reached his wife's chamber—that sacred, secluded room, into which
he never entered unbidden. He paused before the door with an icy
heart and hand. He heard voices—his voice and hers in earnest
conversation; he heard him say:
"And now, Annie, before we go, let me thank you again and again for
all you have done for me."
"Let us hasten," was the low reply, "before Leger misses us. Oh,
dear! he will be so surprised."
The chill left the listening husband, and a hot fever of rage took its
place. Flinging the door wide open, he stepped in.
"Not so surprised, madam, as you may think. I have guessed at your
secret days ago."
Annie was about to make some answer to this; but when she met his
eyes, she grew white and said nothing.
"As for you, Maurice Gurnell, I will not kill so mean a man as you. I
will not even strike so base a thing. Only take her with you, and get
out of my presence forever;" and with a slight, contemptuous gesture
toward his wife, he turned upon his heel.
"Stay!" cried Maurice; "you are mad, Leger. Let us explain;" but he
continued down the hall, till Annie, with a faint cry, sprung to his side,
grasping his arm.
"Leger Carollyn!"
He flung off her hand, and she shrunk back into her chamber; but
before he had reached the turn in the hall which led to the dressing-
rooms, a slight figure, robed in white, with a long vail sweeping about
the floating drapery, sprung before him, seized both his hands, and
commenced talking rapidly in French—so rapidly, that he, not of late
days very familiar with the sounds, hardly understood her, but he
was compelled to hear enough to rivet his attention.
"Ah! you do not understand," she cried, half-laughing, half in tears. "I
am Victoire. Maurice is not a bad man—no, no, you must not call him
so. He is my husband—ah me, this very day. Your sweet, angel wife,
she help us—it was her own good pastor marry us this day. It was
your wife who kept it secret—because, you see, I was in the convent
—and I run away. I run away and came across the sea to wait for
Maurice—that is it, because we love each other so. He was my
cousin. Come; your sweet, pretty wife said we should have a
wedding-party, and surprise them all. Come; we must go down. Ah
me! I tremble so, to think of it!"
The pretty creature, all childish animation, pushed him back with
eager gesture, to the chamber he had left in such a tumult. An infant
could have led him, the reaction had left him so unresisting. Maurice
met him at the threshold, saying, gravely:
"I forgive your too hasty words, Leger. It was foolish of me to try to
keep my little plan a secret from you; but I thought the surprise would
be pleasant. In five moments I can tell you all that is now necessary
with regard to Victoire. She is my cousin once removed. Her
mother's family live in Paris. When I went to see them, Victoire was
at school in a convent. Her mother was extremely religious, and,
having married two daughters comfortably, had resolved that this
one should enter a nunnery. She gave me permission to call upon
my cousin at the convent. I did so. Notwithstanding the icy presence
of the lady-superior, we contrived to fall in love with each other. Look
at her, Leger, and you will not wonder! I went back and proposed to
my aunt for her daughter's hand. She rejected the idea. I could not
soften her. Of course, the more I was opposed, the more passionate
became my resolution. I contrived to correspond with Victoire; I laid a
plan for her to escape from the convent, and take passage in the
vessel which was to sail the month before I left. This I did to avert
suspicion and pursuit. Of course if they saw me still in Paris, they
would know she had not fled with me; and if they looked for her in
connection with me at all, they would confine their search to the city.
She accomplished her flight in safety; the captain of the vessel, a
friend of mine, took her in charge. Not wishing to send her to my own
family (knowing they would oppose the match bitterly, and probably
return her to her mother), I bethought me of Annie St. John, the
woman of all my acquaintance I most respected and admired, and I
gave Victoire letters to her in which I begged her to take charge of
my poor little blossom and keep our secret in her own breast until I
arrived, and our marriage was safely consummated. She found the
lady married, but she had heard me speak of you too often not to
feel the same confidence in her as before. She came to your house
with her letters, and her poor little lonely heart frightened and
trembling; but she was not willing Mrs. Carollyn should even tell you
her story, which was a little foolish. Mrs. Carollyn obtained board for
her with the same lady in whose family she herself resided before
her marriage, keeping watch and ward over her until I arrived to
relieve her of the charge. She thought it a pretty plan to give us a
wedding-party. With the sanction of her presence and approval, your
pastor married us privately this afternoon. And now we are ready to
face the whole curious, condemnatory, applaudatory and astonished
world, are we not, little girl?" And with a look of tender fondness
Maurice turned to the young creature, shy but happy, clinging to his
arm. "Come, Dr. and Mrs. Carollyn, give us the support of your
countenance through this trying ordeal."
Leger offered his arm to his wife. She did not take it, but walked by
his side, with a strange luster in her pale face—a fixed, resolute
expression, that did not change through the evening. With admirable
dignity she introduced the bride and bridegroom to the surprised
assemblage, his own relatives included.
The supper was a marvel of costly luxury. It was late when the
dancers tired, the music faltered, and the house was gradually left to
solitude. Mr. and Mrs. Gurnell had been previously invited to spend a
week with their hostess, and their chamber awaited them. Mrs.
Carollyn left them at its door with a pleasant good-night.
When the Doctor knocked at his wife's door, his heart drenched in
tears of humble regret, she did not respond to the summons, and he
retired to await the subsiding of her just displeasure.
But when she was summoned to the late breakfast, her room was
found empty. Nothing was disturbed. The blue velvet dress lay on
the bed. A traveling-dress and bonnet was gone from the wardrobe.
The casket of pearls was on the bureau. Of all her wealth she had
taken nothing but a sum of money—amounting to a few hundred
dollars, which had come in from her property—and her wedding-ring.
Since she was a wife, and might possibly some time become a
mother, she had kept her wedding-ring—and, yes, her marriage-
certificate. One of the servants said he had heard the door open and
close, very early in the morning, but he was very sleepy, from having
been up so late, and had paid no attention to it.
And from that time, for weary, heart-withering years, Dr. Carollyn
obtained no clue to the fate of his wife.

CHAPTER V.
THE HUNTER AND THE MAIDEN.
And still thy mane streams backward
At every thrilling bound,
And still thy measured hoof-stroke
Beats with its morning sound!—
Bayard Taylor.

Now he shivers, head and hoof, and the

 flakes of foam fall off,
And his face grows fierce and
thin!
And a look of human woe from his staring
eyes did go.

Mrs. Browning.
For once Nat Wolfe was disappointed in his best friend—his long-
tried, much-lamented steed, Kit Carson. All the long afternoon he
pursued the northerly course which the bison had taken, and which,
he knew, led to more fragrant streams and better pasturage. The
same moon toward which Elizabeth, riding merrily in the ox-drawn
wagon, was looking with such longing eyes, found him still striding
on, throwing keen glances in every direction, but without having met
a living thing of any kind in his six hours' journey. He was certain that
he was on the track of the herd; and, more than that, frequently,
before it grew too dark for such observations, he detected the print of
horse-shoes here and there along the way. As long as the moon
shone he continued to walk; but when it set, there was nothing to do
but to eat his dry biscuit, take a draught from his canteen and lie
down to sleep with a tuft of grass for a pillow. This he did, still feeling
confident that when he awoke it would be to find Kit grazing quietly
by his side.
The first rays of the morning roused him. He had slumbered heavily,
for he was fatigued; and as he tried to shake off the chill and
stiffness of his night's exposure by running swiftly, he remarked to
himself:
"Well, I may as well run in the right direction, and that is, toward the
point I started from. Poor Kit's gone forever, I fear. I must get back to
the trail, in order to follow the route to Denver. I'll have to foot it all
the way, unless I overtake some train that'll be willing to sell me
some kind of an animal. I wouldn't have taken a thousand dollars for
Kit Carson! Confound me if I think the girl was worth it!"
Yet, at the recollection of the maiden in whose behalf he had
sacrificed his horse, a sudden warmth thrilled through his veins, very
beneficial in dispelling the effects of the night air; he slackened his
speed insensibly, forgetting his breakfast for some time in visions of
a young, wistful face, with eyes so lustrous and yet melancholy that
they made his heart yearn to fill them with smiles instead of tears to
which they seemed more accustomed.
"It's a burning shame in that shiftless farmer to be dragging that kind
of a child out to Pike's Peak—an infernal hole for men, at the best.
She don't feel at home, poor thing, that's evident! Her place is with
the ladies of the land—instead of being set down in a shanty among
a crowd of rough, swearing miners. She needs a protector, that child
does—blast me if she don't." Here a thought rushed through his
mind which deepened the flush of his sun-burned cheek. Presently
he shook his head, continuing, "No! no! it's too late for that with Nat
Wolfe. A man that's been fooled by a woman as I was, would be a
double fool to trust one of the kind again."
Coming to a pool of water in a deep gully, Nat refreshed himself with
the remains of his dried meat and biscuit, filled his canteen with
water, and pushed on. It was noon when he reached Pike's Peak
trail—at almost the spot where he left it. There were no travelers in
sight.
"I must overtake that train again. It's going my way, and—and—I
shan't just feel easy without seeing that girl again. I'm a good match
for an ox-team; but when it has at least twenty miles the start, that
makes it harder. I'll be likely to be hungry before I reach the next
station, if I don't come across a stray buffalo or antelope, and we're
about out of their range now. However, it's too early in the day to
borrow trouble. I've been fifty hours without food, more than once."
With long, steady, gliding steps, which took him over the ground with
surprising rapidity, yet which had not the appearance of haste or
effort, he continued his march, reaching the place at which the
emigrants had stayed the previous night, before sundown. Here he
was fortunate enough to find, among other relics of their
encampment, some of the remains of their breakfasts. He did not
pause to scrupulously examine the nicety of these fragments; for he
had eaten nothing since early morning, and was very glad of these
providential crumbs. Having somewhat rested and refreshed himself,
he had about concluded to push on, until nine or ten in the evening,
so as to come up with the train by evening of the next day. It was
now after sunset. As he arose to resume his journey, he perceived,
afar, against the northern hemisphere of the horizon, a party of
horsemen sweeping on; he knew them, even at that distance, by
their attitudes and manner of riding, as a band of Indians.
"They'd like right well to know I was here, alone and on foot,"
soliloquized Nat, "though I doubt then if they'd care to approach me,
when I was wide-awake and looking out for them. Let 'em come! the
whole snaky set! I suppose it would be just as prudent not to show
myself until they are out of sight; though if they come where I am, I'm
agreeable! I'd like to dislodge a red-skin from one of those horses,
and take his place. Perhaps they'll camp here for the night. Ha! here
they come; I'd better be looking out for a covert."
He crept along the ground and dropped down the embankment into
the river-bed. Here he could conceal himself from observation,
unless the party stopped for the night, or came for water. In case he
was discovered before the twilight enabled him to escape, he had
only to depend upon his weapons, and the dauntless courage which
had made him so famous.
It was true that most of these vagrant bands of red-skins were not at
war with the whites; but their natural cruelty and covetousness would
lead them to murder any solitary traveler they might chance upon;
and toward Nat Wolfe they all felt the fury of revenge for the frequent
losses they had sustained from him.
As the tramp of the approaching horses drew nearer, he raised his
head cautiously and reconnoitered. "They're a well-mounted set of
devils—plenty of 'em, too, I'll swear!" he muttered; and seeing a bush
hanging over the bank a little further down, which would afford him a
better chance to make observations, he crawled on his hands and
knees along the yellow clay until he came to the spot over which it
grew. This new position was a safer one in this respect—it was
around a bend of the stream; so that if the Indians came to dip water
from the half-dried pool above him, they would not observe him
where he lay, sheltered by the bend; the ground above, also, shelved
over, so that he stood a good chance of escaping their keen eyes.
Looking well to his trusty rifle, and mechanically feeling the knife and
revolvers in his belt, he pressed as closely as possible under the
bank and listened until the party drew rein, as he had anticipated
they would, and dismounting made preparations for encamping for
the night. Nat's trail was so mixed up with that of the company who
had occupied the ground the previous day that the new-comers
perceived nothing to arouse their suspicions.
It was extremely irksome to Golden Arrow to lie crouched under the
bank all the time the new-comers were kindling their fires, broiling
their venison and feeding their horses such forage as they had; he
had rather have darted upon them like the weapon after which they
had named him; but, brave as he was, he knew that one white man
was a poor match for thirty Indians, and he restrained his hatred and
impatience as best he could; varying the tedium with the rather
dangerous amusement of raising himself to watch them behind the
shelter of the bush. The two hours which they spent, before they
finally stretched themselves in a ring with their feet to the ashes of
the fire they had made, seemed to him endless. They had secured
their horses by tying a knot in the end of the ropes about their necks,
and burying these knots in the earth of the prairie, in lieu of trees to
tie them to. Twilight had deepened into the wan moonlight of a chilly
night before all was so quiet as to warrant Nat's attempt to escape
from his present unfriendly proximity. Quietly creeping along the
river-bed, until out of hearing distance of any wakeful ear, he finally
stood up, climbed the bank, and struck across the desert—as the
stream took him away from instead of toward the track he intended
to find and follow.
Nothing interfered with his intentions, and he was soon traveling
briskly along the trail, which the descending moon enabled him to
follow. For an hour he made good progress; but as the moon went
down the wind arose, and soon that terrible tempest which was
working such destruction in the camp of the emigrants came upon
him also, defying his utmost efforts to hold his own against it. Not a
rock to shelter him, not a shrub to cling to, and wrapped in
impenetrable darkness, all he could do was to fling himself flat upon
the ground, shut his eyes, and let the winds trample him at their
pleasure. During all the first fury of the tornado he lay thus; when it
had somewhat abated he arose and struggled on against it. His only
guide was the fact that the wind had come from the direction in
which he wished to go; so he now set his face against it, feeling his
way through the starless night. But the wind has the reputation of
being fickle, and it is not surprising, therefore, that when the wished-
for morning began to break, Nat Wolfe found himself, instead of
several miles on the way toward friends, back in the camp of the
enemy.
The Indians were already stirring, on the alert to discover what
losses they had sustained by the storm. Nat, fearing discovery on
the open plain, again took to his hands and knees, creeping along to
seek for some shelter in the bed of the stream until the party should
have mounted and ridden off. Scarcely had he gained a secure
position, with a friendly shrub again giving him an opportunity to
reconnoiter, when he perceived another band of mounted men
swiftly approaching from the west, along the Denver trail. That these,
too, were red-skins, and a part of the former party, he at once
decided; but great was his surprise to perceive that one of the
savages rode his own lost steed, Kit Carson.
His astonishment was swallowed up in a still greater emotion the
next instant; trained as he was to the suppression of all outward
signs of excitement, he could scarcely repress a cry, at perceiving,
bound to a pony, which was led by the rider of his own horse, a white
captive whom he recognized as the very young girl whom he had
rescued from the bisons. The east was now golden with the coming
sunrise, and as the party drew nearer he plainly observed the face of
the captive—that young, beautiful face—now so pale with terror and
fatigue, as to excite his deepest pity. The storm had blown the
polished braids of her hair into streaming tresses which rippled about
her form in dark waves. She was quiet, for her hands were tied, and
effort was hopeless; but her features had an expression of dread and
anguish impossible to depict. Nat remembered her pitiful avowal to
him of her extreme horror of Indians, and his stern heart shook with