Roman's POV.
"No! Get back! Get away from the car!"
My own voice ripped me out of the dark. I bolted upright, my heart slamming against my ribs like a trapped animal. My skin was soaked, my t-shirt sticking to my back in the air-conditioned cold of the bedroom. I reached for the nightstand, my fingers fumbling for the cold metal of the 9mm I kept there, but my hand hit something soft instead.
A hand. A small, warm hand.
"Roman? Roman, it’s me. It’s okay. You’re home. You’re in the penthouse."
I blinked, my eyes stinging. The room was dark, the only light coming from the blue standby lamp on the television across the room. Sloane was sitting on the edge of the mattress, her hair a messy gold halo in the dark. She looked terrified, her eyes searching mine, her fingers still resting on
