Masterson Made (The Masterson Series Book 4)

by Lisa Lang Blakeney

  “Yo, Cam, you’re a diabolical motherfucker and I mean that in the most respectful way, brother.”

  Cutter grabs me around the neck and kisses my head.

  “The favor Joseph pulled with Ivan was only going to get us so far,” I explain further. “We needed insurance that we wouldn’t get any blowback from this. The Russians need to believe that they did this to each other and for that we needed a fall guy.”

  “You think Rome will be okay with us allowing this one to still breathe?” Stone asks. “Isn’t this the one he’s got the hard-on for?”

  “He won’t be breathing very long,” I assure them both. “This dude is low on the totem pole. One of the Russian families will take care of him to tie up loose ends and if we’re lucky, maybe even Ivan will do it.”

  “Well, either way, one of us has to break the news to Rome.”

  “And one of us has to deal with the bodies.”

  “Ugh, I hate clean up. Can’t we hire someone?”

  “You know we can’t. No one can link this back to the club or us. Even a cleaner.”

  All three of us look at each other, waiting for the other to step up. None of us do, so Cutter comes up with an alternative solution.

  “Rock, paper, scissors?”

  “Fuck it, let’s do it.”

  “One, two, three shoot!”

  All three of us simultaneously place a hand forward.

  All scissors.

  Damn, this may take a while.

  21

  ROMAN

  “Is it okay for us to come in?” I hear Juliette cautiously ask Jade at the door.

  “Yeah, he’s awake. Come on in.”

  Then suddenly I’m assaulted by a mound of curls and soft jasmine scented curves. The pain is agonizing as Elizabeth showers my face with kisses, paying special attention to the scar on my face, oblivious that she may be injuring the new ones.

  It doesn’t matter though.

  I’m happy as fuck to see her.

  I tighten my eyes shut and thank whatever higher power is looking out for me and my family. Then I wrap the hand without tubes going into my veins into the base of her skull, gripping her hair as tightly as I can, considering the pain I’m in, and pull her in for a much-needed kiss.

  “I’m so glad you’re okay,” she murmurs after we break. “I can’t even imagine if I had lost you. If we had lost you.”

  Our foreheads touch as our eyes meld into each other. Everyone’s attention in the room is on us but it doesn’t matter because all I can feel is a sense of relief blanketing my bones. My girl and my son are safe and they are right here with me. I will never let them go again.

  “What took you so long to get here, baby?”

  “I came as fast as I could.”

  Her eyes well up again as she beams at me.

  “Thank God,” Jade interjects. “We were going to have to put him down like a grizzly bear if you two didn’t come soon.”

  Juliette and Joseph saunter in with Knox in tow and then bring him over to my bedside. Joseph gives me a slight head nod and I know exactly what he’s saying with no words being said. He’s relieved to see I’m alive and well.

  “Say hi to Daddy, peanut,” Elizabeth coaxes Knox as she takes him from Juliette’s arms. Tears streaming down her face.

  Knox babbles several of his usual garbled words with great inflection at the end as to make his point. We both start laughing at what sounds like one of the most beautiful sounds I took for granted.

  I kiss Knox on his forehead and run my hand down Elizabeth’s face.

  “When did you become such a crybaby?” I ask her smiling.

  “I’ve always been one.”

  “Bitsy, give Knox to me. Joseph and I are going to go to the cafeteria for a second and we’ll take him with us. Jade, you want to join?”

  Jade pops her head up from her phone and looks at Juliette like a deer caught in the headlights.

  “You mean me?”

  “Yes, dear. You want to grab some snacks? I know you’ve been here holding down the fort for a long time. You must be famished.”

  I love my stepmother, but she’s as obvious as a heart attack.

  “Um, okay. They usually serve crap in hospital cafeterias, but I guess I can scrape something together at the salad bar.”

  “Alone at last,” I say when the door shuts behind them.

  Elizabeth gently traces the scar on my face with her fingertips.

  “At last.”

  “Did you get the deal done with Cabot?”

  “That doesn’t matter right now.”

  “It does to me.”

  Elizabeth stares at me in a way that she hasn’t in a long time. As if I’m the most amazing man on the planet.

  “I was too terrified about condition to discuss any business after I heard about what happened to you, but if you must know, he emailed me when I was on the train. The legal department will be sending me something this week or the next.”

  “Told you it was a done deal.”

  “You were right.” She twinkles. “You’re always right.”

  “Baby, until I’ve dealt with the people that did this to me I want you and Knox to go stay with Joseph and Juliette.”

  “Uh-uh, I’m staying right here.”

  “Why can’t you ever listen?” I wince from either my broken ribs or the two bullet holes in my body. I’m not sure which. “What happened to the girl who trusted that I’d always do what’s best for her? The woman who knows I’m always right.”

  “Her fiancé got abducted and shot twice because of a favor he did for her friend, so now she’s going to follow wherever her heart leads her and right now that’s here in Mercy Hospital, Room 4708. They can set up a cot for me right here.”

  “They’re not just going to let an eight-month-old baby sleep in here. That has to be breaking all sorts of safety protocol.”

  “Knox can stay with Joseph and Juliette.”

  “How’s that going to work?”

  “Juliette is going to help me transition him to a gentle formula for supplemental feedings. She’s also going to give him a little more solid food midday. That should help reduce the frequency of the bottle feedings. He’ll be safe there with them, right?”

  I’m fucking shook.

  Elizabeth has done a complete one-eighty.

  Maybe there is a silver lining to this whole debacle.

  “Yes, Joseph will protect him with his life if it ever came to that.”

  “Then we’re good,” she chirps. “But there’s one more thing,” she adds.

  “Yes, baby?”

  “I thought about keeping this from you at first but I don’t want there to be any secrets between us.”

  “Agreed.”

  “So here.”

  Elizabeth pulls up a chair as close to the bed as she can then shows me an email on the screen of her phone.

  Dear Elizabeth,

  You were once kind to me in college which is why I’m writing. I tried calling you months ago to tell you this before your husband was attacked but I didn’t get through. I’m hoping that it’s better late than never to make this confession.

  I didn’t know it at the time when we were students studying in the computer lab at Penn, but you were dating a boy I’ve known since I was a little girl. Although I grew up across the country from him, his mom and my mom are best friends and have been since childhood. The boy’s name is Ethan.

  His family has not heard from him in over a year and they are convinced that his disappearance has something to do with you. Because of his complicated history, and lack of any evidence, the police aren’t taking his missing person’s case seriously. So I was asked to befriend you by my parents in an effort to find out any information I could and give them a lead.

  I used the fact that my creepy landlord was harassing me as my “in” but didn’t anticipate the avalanche of violence that would occur after your husband confronted him. In my defense, I didn’t think you would send Roman
to speak to him and I didn’t know my landlord had ties to the Russian mafia until they came to my apartment to threaten me.

  At first I wasn’t going to tell you any of this, because maybe you did have something to do with Ethan leaving town, and maybe you and your husband are getting exactly what you deserved. But then I reconsidered. I hope you can forgive my part in what’s happened, but I also hope that if you know anything about Ethan that you’ll share it with the authorities.

  Sincerely,

  Patty

  “Will I ever get rid of that asshole? I thought I was finally done hearing his name.”

  “Me too.”

  “Don’t tell her shit about Ethan, Elizabeth. She thinks he was some sort of saint and you’re what–his downfall?”

  “There’s nothing to tell. I don’t know anything, remember?”

  “And Cam put this ungrateful wench on a first-class flight to Oregon.”

  “I know and I’m sorry.”

  “You realize, me getting shot wasn’t your fault, right?”

  “I’m the one who asked you to help with Patricia and look what happened. You almost died because of someone with an agenda involving me.”

  “No, Duchess, you’re wrong.” I try to hide my flinching from her but it’s hard. I’m in a great deal of pain. “Her vendetta is against me. I’m the one who made Ethan disappear and as far as the landlord, I was arrogant and didn’t do my homework before I approached him, but trust me when I say that will never happen again. I promise you that.”

  Elizabeth deletes Patricia’s phone number and then places her phone face down on the bedside table.

  “Well, it’s over. Right now I just want you to please use that call button and tell the nurse who no doubt is drooling over you everyday that you need some more pain meds. I can hear the agony in your voice. Then I’ll set up my laptop on this table and we’ll watch a movie until you fall asleep. I don’t know if you realize it or not but it’s date night.”

  “No.” I smirk. “I didn’t realize.”

  “And when you wake up, Roman, I will be here,” she says glassy-eyed. “I’ll always be here.”

  She slides her hand into one of mine and I lightly clasp it. Tears the size of raindrops slide down her cheeks.

  “Are you crying again, nerd?”

  “This has been the craziest few weeks of my life. I’m emotional, okay?”

  “Get in bed with me.” I pat the side of the bed. “I’ll calm your pretty little ass down.”

  “Now, you know there’s not enough room for the both of us,” She chuckles as she wipes her tears away. “And there’s nothing you can do for me right now but get better and come home.”

  “I love you, Elizabeth.” I kiss the back of her hand. “I love you and Knox so fucking much that it frightens me that I could have lost you both. It hurts like hell that I can’t get out of this bed and show you how much properly.”

  She bends down and kisses me gently on the lips.

  “You’ve already shown me properly, Masterson” she says into my mouth. “You lived.”

  22

  ELIZABETH

  I am keenly aware that Roman is nervous about this visit. As we sit in the back seat of a town car that Jade arranged to pick us up from the airport, I feel the frenetic energy of his left knee bouncing. I slip my hand into his massive one as I continue to look out the window of the car. He gives it a light squeeze to acknowledge the gesture and his knee suddenly stops moving.

  Vegas looks and feels exactly like what I thought it would. People are ready to gamble, party and drink the moment they set foot in the city’s limits. The airport lobby is filled with colorful slot machines, the streets are packed with casinos with brightly lit neon signs promising visitors the payout of their dreams, and there are tourists from all over the world who bring a certain unique vitality to the town.

  “How many times have you been here?” I ask Roman. “I can’t remember if you told me.”

  “Just about four or five.”

  “To gamble?”

  “Yeah, something like that.”

  I decide not to ask any more questions about that because his answer leads me to believe that he was here for work or with a woman from his past, and I don’t really need to hear the details about either of those.

  “What’s your favorite game?” I ask him.

  “I prefer the private poker tables if I’m going to play at all.”

  “That’s where the big rollers play, right?”

  “Elizabeth, I appreciate the small talk, but it’s unnecessary.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I know that you’re trying to keep things light but the reality is that we’re on our way to see a woman who has had very little to do with me for a very long time, and it’s not going to be an easy reunion regardless of what you’re hoping for.”

  “I’m not saying it’s going to be all kisses and hugs but it doesn’t have to be difficult either.”

  “But it will be.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  I wish Roman would go into this with an open mind. I read a lot of parenting books during my pregnancy and they all suggested that new parents should try working on their our own “parental baggage” so we don’t repeat the same patterns. I feel like my relationship drastically improved with my own parents when my father and Aunt Juliette reconciled, so I’m just hoping to get similar results for Roman and his mom.

  “My mother was an addict for most of her adult life, so you don’t think it’s odd that she lives in a city notorious for its vices? I’m telling you now. You should be prepared for the fact that you’re going to be deeply disappointed. She is probably living in a rinky-dink apartment, spending most of her money on her bad habits.”

  “I think you’re the one who may be pleasantly surprised. When I spoke to her a few weeks ago she sounded good and is looking forward to seeing you again.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  As the driver continues past the city limits, Roman’s body stiffens as the view transforms.

  “Are you sure we’re in the right neighborhood?” Roman leans forward to ask the driver.

  “Whitney Ranch, right?”

  “Yes,” I respond.

  “Then we’re in the right place. Just another five minutes and we’ll be at your destination.”

  We pull up to a relatively large Mediterranean home with an attached garage, pristine terra cotta roof, and an immaculately maintained succulent and stone garden in front. The house is drop-dead gorgeous and doesn’t look like a place where the woman I’ve heard about would live.

  Now I’m the one nervous.

  A relatively minute man with a round pot belly answers the door. He’s wearing a crisp white T-shirt and a pair of Bermuda shorts and pool slippers. This must be the man that Roman’s mother mentioned in her apology letter to him.

  He looks friendly as we approach the door.

  “You must be Roman. I’m Peter.”

  He extends his hand forward. Roman pauses for a moment, but then finally accepts the gesture and shakes his hand as well.

  “This is my fiancée, Elizabeth.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Elizabeth. Come on in, you two. Frances is in the kitchen preparing a couple of things. Hope you’re hungry.”

  Peter leads us through the foyer to a beautiful great room and then farther through the house into the prettiest, airiest kitchen I think I’ve ever seen. The walls are a pale peach and every small appliance has its rightful place on the countertops. There’s a wall of sliding glass doors that Peter walks us through that leads us to a second kitchen. This one is an impressive outdoor one complete with a built-in fireplace, stone grill, countertop with sink, and upscale wicker furniture.

  I am duly impressed.

  “They’re here, Frances.”

  A tall woman with olive skin and a simple white sundress turns away from the counter holding a tomato and a paring knife. She’s stunning and Roman favors her in almost every way, esp
ecially the eyes. If this woman was an addict for most of her life it hasn’t seemed to have ravaged her beauty at all.

  “Hi, Roman.”

  “Hi.”

  “You look… well.” Roman’s mother gives me a quick once-over. “And your Elizabeth is beautiful.”

  Roman nods silently.

  “Thank you,” I offer in return for the compliment.

  “Did you leave the baby back in Philly?” she asks.

  “Yes, he’s spending some time with my aunt.”

  “And Joseph,” Roman adds.

  His mother blinks her eyes a few times as if she’s stuck on how to respond. I think Roman’s comment about Joseph being in our son’s life may have hurt her. These are unchartered waters for us all and I imagine that his head is swimming with questions and feelings that he has been contemplating expressing to Frances for years but this isn’t really the time to say them though. This is supposed to be an initial meeting, so he isn’t speaking to his mother for the first time on our wedding day.

  “That’s fine. We’ll meet him another time,” she finally responds.

  “Yep, we’ll definitely figure it out,” I say.

  “So, I made a rather large taco salad and I’m grilling some skirt steak for dinner. Do you two eat meat?”

  “Yes,” I answer brightly for the both of us. “That sounds delicious.”

  “We weren’t sure if you guys do dogs,” Peter adds. “So we put Bonsai in the den. Would you mind if I let her out for a second? She probably needs to pee.”

  “Oh, we love dogs,” I say. “You need not confine her on our account.”

  Roman is strangely quiet as Bonsai comes out to greet us. She’s a spunky terrier mutt with soulful eyes and a friendly disposition. She takes a liking to my handbag and keeps trying to sniff inside of it.

  “No, Bonsai!” Peter reprimands her.