Broken Little Melodies(21)

Roman’s arms coiled around my waist, constricting until I couldn’t breathe. “What are you doing here?”

“Is this her?” his dad snarled, glaring at me. “Is this the trailer trash you were ready to go to juvie for?”

My mouth dropped. Juvie? What had Roman done?

“Don’t talk shit about her!” Roman yelled. His body was trembling against mine, coursing with rage. “You don’t know a thing about her!”

“Maybe everyone should take a deep breath,” Jackson suggested, holding his hands out in a peaceful gesture. I felt sorry for him because he wasn’t much older than we were and clearly didn’t know what to do. He looked just as rattled over their argument as I was. “Isabelle, you know you’re not supposed to be in here. Why don’t you come with—”

The way Roman clung to me, I realized he was scared. Scared of his own dad. “She’s n-not g-going anywhere!”

“I don’t give a shit where she goes!” Roman’s dad said, stepping into the cabin. “But you’re coming home with me! I spoke with your grandmother and I know what you did for this girl!”

What did he do?

All at once it felt like Roman was using me as a shield. He shifted behind me with his arms still wrapped possessively around my body. “What? Camp isn’t even half over!” His deep voice cracked with emotion, shattering my heart. “I’m n-not leaving!”

My heart exploded with pain as tears burned my eyes. We were being robbed of our precious time together.

“You’ll do what I say as long as you’re living under my roof!” his dad roared.

Jackson ran outside, calling for someone to help.

I was terrified. Terrified for me, terrified for Roman. His stomach muscles clenched against my back, and his father’s tendons looked ready to burst from his thick neck.

Pressing myself back against Roman, I held out my arms, screaming, “Stay away from him!”

Roman jerked me out of the way before his dad’s open hand had a chance to connect with the side of my face. I stared back at the man, shocked that he had tried to hit me, but Roman went after him.

“You s-son of a b-bitch!”

I begged Roman to stop, knowing he would only get himself into deeper trouble, but he was, in reality, much bigger than his dad. I finally understood why he was so intent on lifting weights. When Roman swung his fist, he struck his dad’s jaw and sent him swaggering backwards.

Then the room erupted with both counselors and campers. Jackson and another male counselor wrestled Roman away from his dad. My counselor hurried to my side, followed closely by Melanie. They fussed over me when they saw the mark on my face. I ignored them, trying to get to Roman as they pulled him from the cabin.

“Belle!” he called over his dad’s shoulder, trying to fight his way back to me. “Let me go! Belle!”

“Roman!” I wrapped my arms around myself and sobbed, knowing his dad would take him, and there wouldn’t be time for a goodbye.

The last time I saw his beautiful starry eyes that summer, they were filled with tears.

I collapsed inside Melanie’s arms. Knowing I may never see him again, my heart was completely destroyed.





Chapter Seven





Isabelle





Back then I wouldn’t have admitted it, but the next summer, every time I saw a private town car pull up to the curb in front of the administration building, my heart lurched into my throat and I’d hold my breath. But when the car doors opened and it wasn’t Roman who stepped out, my stomach plummeted to my feet.

After half an hour, I turned to Melanie with my already short fingernails held against my mouth. “He’s not coming.”

She cracked her gum under her tongue and shook her head. “He’ll be here. He found a way to get you here last year, didn’t he?”

The reminder of what went down made me dizzy. “I could really go for a smoke,” I muttered, sighing heavily.

After Roman left with his dad, I spent the remaining days at camp puffy-eyed and worried sick. Even though Roman almost always was the one to call me, I still had his number memorized. I told the director that my grandmother was sick and was allowed several days in a row to make calls from the office, but no one ever answered. Then one day I called to discover the number had been disconnected.

The last day of camp, I decided to suck it up and approached Brooke even though I hated myself for giving her any power over me. The second she realized I was headed toward her, she became rigid and her nostrils flared like she smelled something rotten. The start of a panic attack crawled into my stomach once I was standing in front of her.

“Look, everyone. It’s the girl who ruined Roman’s summer,” she sang to her friends in a tone laced with sarcasm. Setting a hand on her hip, she scowled. “What do you want?”