The Promise (Darkest Lies Trilogy Book 2) by Bethany-Kris (fiction book recommendations .txt) 📕

the questions that would come even if he did explain the different identities, either. That was half the problem.

Someone needed to explain this—to him, so he could understand, and more important, to Karine. This was her life. How had no one given her the tools to live it?

“You must have done something to provoke her,” Roman said, without inflection. “Something that made her attack you.”

The bull’s nostrils flared with a dark chuckle. “Let’s just say she doesn’t like being touched. I was just leading them back up to the suite, trying to get her into the elevator, the second my hand touched her back—”

“You touched her.”

Tripp heard the dark dip in Roman’s tone, and his throat bobbed with a hard swallow in reply. “She lost her shit. Like ... crazy, man. I’ve never seen someone flip so fast. And violent, she was—”

“I get it, Tripp.”

The bull quieted, then. There was a part of Roman that wanted to curl his hands around the man’s throat and force him to take back his words—the vicious side of himself that knew he could painfully explain to Tripp exactly what he had done wrong, here. The only thing worse than the sudden urge to do violence to a man who was only doing his job—without the info to properly do it, to be fair—was the fact Roman’s emotions drove him to feel that way in the first damn place. He wasn’t prepared for the way words cut into him when he heard someone bitch about Karine, or make comments that were insensitive, even if it was from ignorance.

Tripp had also made valid points about the way he did his job—it was the only thing that saved him from the violent thoughts spinning in Roman’s thoughts. That, and nothing else, though.

“Footage?” Roman asked, instead.

“I’ll have to look into it. I’m sure there are cameras in the restaurant, but money talks, bullshit walks,” the guy replied.

Right. Almost any mess could be cleaned for the right price. Except it was still one more thing for him to do, or make sure was done. New things were constantly being added to the ever-growing pile of responsibilities on Roman’s plate. Not that he had the time to worry about it.

From the corner of his eye, Roman noticed Masha appear at the end of the hallway.

“I’ll handle it from here,” he told the bull.

Tripp grumbled his way to the door, and stepped outside.

Roman turned to Masha, and noticed the bloody towel in her hand.

“She really went for it this time, didn’t she,” he remarked to the trembling woman.

When Roman really thought about it, he understood her, actually.

Katina, not Masha.

He could understand why and when Katina made an appearance—it was every time Karine felt like she was losing control. She answered that removal of power with brilliant violence from a beautiful face. She was vulnerability in the flesh capable of causing the worst kind of trauma.

But just because he thought he understood a facet of Katina—well, that didn’t mean he had an overall picture. He had waited for the bull to leave the suite entirely before he spoke to Masha, but she still remained silent, even though she stared back at him.

He wondered, if like him, Masha had come to accept the reality, too—that the only thing they could expect from Katina was violence.

“When did she show up?” he asked, deciding each word he posed very carefully.

For good reason.

Roman suspected a lot of things about Masha, but one of them actually worked to her favor ... even if it didn’t entirely work to his. Like the fact he believed she was loyal to Karine—probably even loved her—but that didn’t mean she cared about what happened to the rest of them.

Masha’s wet stare and sniffles gave away her emotions—beyond the scared and shocked she should be, there was something else. Sadness. Guilt.

“Do you feel it’s your responsibility to keep them under control?” he asked, then, as Masha chose to remain silent.

She did answer, finally.

But only to say, “Soon after you left. She was upset you had left—abandonment is her worst fear, do you understand?”

Roman opened his mouth to respond, but Masha cut in quickly, her voice still soft and mindful, but firm all the same. “No, I don’t think you do ... even if you do mean her well, I don’t truly think you do understand what it is like—to be the one person who knows that if you don’t help her, no one will—but you’re getting a taste.”

He eased his attitude.

But not by much.

“What happened, then?”

Masha sighed. “I’d convinced Karine we’d go down and get breakfast, but she wanted to wash her face. And then she just walked out of the bathroom.”

“Katina, you mean. I’m sure you know as much as I do,” Roman started, “that Karine and Katina are not the same person.”

Masha remained silent at that. She had no answer, and he wasn’t expecting one. He did think it might be beneficial for her to know something Katina had once told him, though. The way Masha spoke made him think that it wasn’t something Katina had also shared with her. Was that because Katina trusted him, or because she didn’t trust her?

Roman figured ... Masha should know what he did, if only to better care for Karine. Because he did think the woman had good intentions. “Katina pretends to be Karine—she’ll manipulate that way.”

She stilled. Then, slowly, Masha glanced up to meet his gaze. “I wondered, but ...”

“What?”

“She’s new—I couldn’t pinpoint exactly when she started coming around. It could have been before the first time I met her, but I’m the last person Katina cares to speak to. You understand?”

He didn’t, but he did at the same time.

And what was done was done.

Likely.

“Are you okay?” he asked, eyeing her hand.

Masha looked down, the bloody smears on her hands not at all concerning her as she nodded quickly.  “Yes, of course, I’m fine. I was just cleaning up, but I heard you arrive. That man cut his hand, and there