Chapter 21
Eden
The cathedral looms ahead, its tall spires cutting into the dusk sky as I pull into the nearly deserted parking lot. It’s been three weeks since everything started to unravel—since I confronted my father and cut Roman from my life. Three weeks of trying to keep my brother safe from our father’s wrath. Three weeks of pretending Luca’s presence in my life is anything more than a weak attempt at normalcy.
Roman’s 4-Runner is parked near the entrance, the only other vehicle in sight. The sight of it is both comforting and unsettling, knowing what lies ahead. I step out of the car, the cool evening air brushing against my skin, sending a shiver down my spine. My hands tighten around the edges of Roman’s flannel, pulling it closer as if it could shield me from the answers I came here for. The fabric still carries his scent, a bittersweet reminder of the man who’s been both my savior and my tormentor.
I start toward the grand wooden doors of the cathedral, the click of my heels echoing in the stillness. At home, things havechanged. Aiden has been quieter, more withdrawn. My father hasn’t laid a hand on me since that day, but his attention has shifted—he’s more focused on me now, leaving Aiden somewhat in the clear. But I know it’s temporary. He’s still in danger, just lurking under my father’s radar for now.
Luca’s been making an effort, inserting himself in my life more consistently after apologizing for how he treated me after Roman’s outburst at the reservoir, and I’ve been pretending to forgive him. But it’s not a relationship. It’s a bandage over a wound that Roman left behind.
The cathedral’s wooden doors are heavy, resisting as I push them open. Inside, the building feels more like a fortress than a sanctuary tonight. The dim light from a single lamp in the office down the hall casts long shadows, making the space seem even more oppressive. Each step I take toward that office feels heavier, like the air itself is thickening around me, weighed down by the questions that have been burning in my mind.
Why has Roman been lying to my father, telling him I’ve been completing service hours when we both know I haven’t? What’s his real connection to my father, and what does he know about the dark secrets buried in that binder I found? And why, after everything, can’t I just let him go?
My heart pounds as I step inside, eyes locked on the chaos before me. The quiet click of the door closing behind me echoes in the stillness, and I know there’s no turning back now. Roman’s voice, low and weary, breaks the silence, pulling me out of my thoughts.
"Eden," He whispers, like he’s saying my name for the first time.
I turn slowly, meeting his tired eyes. For a moment, the weight of everything unsaid hangs between us. The room feels too small, too confined for what’s about to happen.
"I need answers, Roman," I say, my voice trembling with the weight of everything I’m about to ask. "I need to know what’s really going on."
I pause my eye catching on his cluttered desk. Papers are strewn across it haphazardly, a chaotic mess that seems out of character for the man who usually exudes control. My gaze shifts downward, taking in the details—the faint scent of old leather, the worn edges of a thick binder, and a set of keys lying abandoned on top of a stack of documents.
I notice a notebook, its pages filled with scribbles and notes that are almost impossible to decipher from where I stand. There’s a tension in the air, a palpable sense of something hidden just beneath the surface. My fingers twitch, a part of me wanting to reach out and flip through the pages to find the answers I came here seeking.
“What’s all this?”
"My sorry attempt to find information on all the sick fucks in this congregation," He whispers, rifling through the papers. "That meeting on Sunday made it clear I need more leverage on all of them—"
"The meeting... about the kids in that binder I saw?" I ask, his body freezing.
"They don’t trust me, Eden. They don’t think I’m one of them because I’m not. I know you’re convinced I’m a part of all this, but I promise you, the only thing I want is to get you and thosechildren far away from this," He whispers, finally meeting my gaze.
"The deal you made with my father—"
"Was to keep you safe," He whispers, turning toward me. "He wanted to harm you, punish you. I wasn’t going to allow it.
"And that’s why you hit me?" I ask, rubbing my arms.
"He had to think I was willing to punish you the way he would, Angel," He whispers, taking a step closer. “But now one of those elitist cultist fucks has planted in his mind that our sessions weren’t as cold-hearted as he’d like to believe."
I take a step back, shaking my head. "So now what? He thinks you’re beating me into submission during our service hours? What kind of fucked-up logic is that?"
Roman’s expression hardens, shadows deepening the intensity of his gaze. “He wants you to be as submissive as your mother,” He says, his voice laced with bitterness. “He wants you to bow your head, accept your place without question, to be molded into the perfect image of obedience. He needs me to break your spirit, to make you pure in his eyes, cleansed of whatever he believes taints you.”
The words send a chill through me, but I force myself to stand my ground. “And if you don’t?” I challenge, stepping closer, needing to know just how far this will go.
Roman’s eyes flicker with a dangerous mix of protectiveness and anger. “If I don’t, Eden, then you won’t want to know what he’s capable of. But I won’t let it get that far. You’re not going to find out.”
His hand reaches up to touch my face, but I jerk back, my spine hitting the edge of the desk. “Don’t,” I snap, my voicetrembling with a mix of fear and anger. “Don’t touch me like you care—”
Roman's hand hovers in the air, his eyes locking onto mine with a raw intensity. “I do care,” He says, his voice rough and filled with something I can’t quite decipher. “More than you realize, Eden. This—this need to protect you—it’s tearing me apart.”
His confession hits me like a wave, and for a moment, I can’t find the words. The weight of what he’s saying, of what he’s feeling, presses down on me. “This isn’t about you,” I manage to say, my voice trembling. “This is about what my father wants, about the way he’s trying to control my life—”
Roman steps closer, his gaze never leaving mine. “It is about me, Eden. It’s about us. It’s about everything that happened... Everything that started that day in the park.”
