by Kylie Walker
“Hey,” one of the accomplice friends cried. “He’s down. He has no weapon. We surrender, man.”
Roman leaned over the thug. “You picked the wrong damn day to mess with me. The wrong day,” he growled.
Roman went to another place in his mind where the world was warped, and there were no consequences.
Roman blinked. A crowd had grown more prominent. Young people in ripped jeans and oversized tee shirts. Old men in thick denim. A woman in a short dress and smeared mascara. The air buzzed with their conversations he couldn’t understand. Someone was on the phone, calling the police. Soon, blue and red lights flashed in his peripheral vision. The man he had beaten lay lifeless on the ground. Had he really killed a man with his bare hands? Everything was spinning out of control. It was hard to swallow, and his chest felt heavy as if his lungs might implode.
“Handen waar ik ze kan zien!” An Amsterdam officer and his teammate rushed the scene, boots clacking on the hard cobblestone. He had no idea what the man was yelling, but he couldn’t imagine it was a polite hello.
Roman had no choice but to follow the procedures and the law. He placed his hands behind his back, almost robotically. He glanced over at Trevor who was doing the same protocol. They didn’t want to add ‘resisting arrest’ to their rap sheet if they received one.
The officers pushed them past the crowd, bumping shoulders as they moved to the back of the police car. A siren wailed as they took off. It seemed as if there was going to be a bit of a set back in catching a red-eye back to Chicago. As soon as Roman and Trevor were able to explain everything to the officials, hopefully they would get out of this one, as long as the man he’d beaten was still alive.
Chapter Four
“I’m going to get a snack. Do you want anything?” Chloe stood up and stretched, yawning as she glanced over at Ashley.
“No thanks, I’m good,” Ashley smiled, picking up the television remote and pointed it at the screen. “I’m just going to check the local news for the weather.” She leaned back into the couch as her petite body became partially swallowed up by the massive cushions.
“Okay, I’ll be right back.” Chloe trekked to the kitchen and switched on the light, wandering over to the fridge.
She plucked a water from the door and a fruit bar from the cabinet. She tried to eat healthy and exercised as much as time permitted. She prided herself on maintaining a slender figure but being petite just ran in the family, so it wasn’t a stretch.
It was late at night, and their parents were already in bed for the night, so she was trying to be as quiet as a mouse as she roamed through the kitchen area. Chloe and Ashely couldn’t sleep again, losing the battle of insomnia. They’d decided to settle in downstairs and watch a comedy on Netflix to distract themselves and get their minds off their father’s cancer. She walked back into the living room and plopped down on the sofa beside her sister with a sigh.
It felt good to sit down and rest her tired legs. They had been to several doctors’ appointments with their father earlier in the day, and the outings were catching up with her. She rubbed her aching calves and heels, absentmindedly watching the anchors on the local news stations recount the events of the day and the weather.
“I’ll put on the movie.” Ashley reached across the table to retrieve the remote.
“Wait.” Chloe halted her with a brush of her hand in the air. “Don’t turn it off yet.”
“What is it?” Ashley’s eyes trailed her sister with a curious frown.
Chloe stared at the screen, completely baffled and dumbfounded about the picture of the man with unruly blond hair and ocean blue eyes.
“I...know that guy,” she said with a rush. No way! It couldn’t be.
Ashley shifted her focus back to the television screen. “That guy?” She pointed. Ashley didn’t formally know any of the band members, although she must have at least known their names. Chloe determined that she must not recognize Roman on the screen through her sheer exhaustion.
“Turn it up,” she instructed of her sister, leaning toward the screen to get a better look.
“And in other news,” the female news anchor droned on in a professional tone with a stoic expression, “there is breaking news out of Amsterdam, the Netherlands tonight about a popular band on tour.”
“What in the world...” Chloe whispered under her breath, completely baffled.
“The drummer for the popular rock band Infinity Prism has been arrested on assault charges,” the anchor continued.
“Arrested?” Chloe squeaked, shaking her head. This couldn’t be happening. It was surreal. Roman was usually a calm and even-tempered type of guy.
“Detained for an apparent brawl in the streets of Amsterdam...” she could barely hear the explanation and the words spewing out of the anchor's mouth.
“The band originated right here in Chicago,” the male anchor quipped as they transitioned into the next story.
Chloe stated at the screen even after the segment had ended. “I can’t believe it,” she said out loud.
That’s when she realized Ashley was staring at her expectantly, apparently needing an explanation.
“This is insane,” Ashley stated the obvious. “That’s so crazy that he got arrested overseas.”
“I know...” Chloe was numb; she didn’t know what to think or feel.
“When does the tour start?” Ashley asked.
“In a few weeks,” Chloe said.
“Will they be able to perform if he’s in jail?”
The question made her heart sink. Infinity Prism had worked so hard to get where they were. She couldn’t fathom the band having to fold a show because Roman was incarcerated.
“Hopefully he won’t be detained for long,” Chloe murmured, and then remembered the horrific accident that his sister had been in that had taken her life only the day before. “Oh my God, he was supposed to come back here for the funeral!”
The shock of seeing him on the news had robbed her memory of the funeral for a moment.
“His sister’s funeral?” Ashley asked. Chloe had gotten her sister up to speed on the subject.
“Right.” Chloe nodded and bleakly glanced at her sister. “I don’t know what will happen now. This is bad.”
Ashley gasped as if the unthinkable just entered her mind. “What if he can’t even make it home before the funeral?”
“I’m trying not to think the worst.” Chloe reached for her phone on the coffee table. “I’m going to try and call Emelia right now and see if she has any information or updates.”
“Good idea.”
Chloe forgot all about the movie. Her stomach flipped. She hadn’t told anyone about the one night she and Roman had shared, after the band’s very last show on their USA tour. It had happened so fast, so spontaneously. It had been hot and amazing, but so unexpected. And a one-off, which meant she put it behind her and moved on though when she thought of it now and then, her pulse picked up and her mind went places it shouldn’t. Confiding in Ashley had felt too embarrassing. She’d made a mistake, acted like a silly fangirl.
She could trust Ashley with anything, and they grew up being best friends, which had blended into their adult lives too. But she couldn’t really explain the reason she had yet to confess her fling with Roman. Maybe because she thought her sister might be disappointed in her. Chloe was the responsible older sister; she didn’t do things like have one-night stands with rock stars.
She pressed the dial button for Emelia and placed the receiver to her ear, waiting patiently while the phone rang. After about five rings, the system cut to voice mail where Chloe heard Emelia’s usually breezy voice directing the caller to leave a message, all while sprouting out her Marketing Director title for the band.
“Hey Emelia, it’s Chloe.” Chloe and Emelia had been best friends for as long as she could remember. Emelia knew about the night where she had slept with Roman in Hawaii. Not that this situation was deemed worthy of being in a skeleton in Chloe’s closet, but
the pair knew each other’s secrets, and there was no judgment.
“I just turned on the local news and heard about Roman’s arrest in Amsterdam,” she continued. “Call me when you can.”
She hung up the call and gave her sister a look of chagrin. “She didn’t answer.”
“Hopefully she’ll call you back soon and give you the scoop,” Ashley suggested.
“Yeah...” Chloe crossed her ankles and stared at her feet. Her toes had been painted an aqua color. She’d been to the salon recently, a little indulgent treat she’d allowed herself after the chaos and stress she’d endured over the past month.
“I’m sure she has a lot on her plate,” Ashley added.
Chloe frowned. “You are probably right about that.” But then she met her sister's gaze. “Em’ will call me back, I’m sure of it.”
“You seem really upset by the news,” Ashley mentioned. There she went again, reading her sister's mind without even needing a reason. Call it sister’s intuition, but they had that talent for being able to tell when something was bothering the other.
Chloe took a deep breath and tucked her hands between her crossed thighs. “Well...” she began and trailed off, needing a moment to shift gears in the conversation. “There’s something I never told you about Roman.”
“Oh, God.” Ashley looked nervous. Her eyes widened, and she stared at Chloe expectantly. “What happened?”
“I slept with him.” There. Chloe said it. The can of worms had been opened and was spilling all over the floor. She’d ripped off the band-aid, and surprisingly the weight and burden of harboring that little secret for so long had been lifted off her shoulders.
“You slept with him?” Ashley shouted, more out of shock and surprise than disapproval. “When?”
“At the end of the US tour. We’d all been celebrating, and it just sort of happened. Are you mad?”
Ashley frowned. “Why would I be mad?”
Chloe shrugged and picked at her thumbnail. “I don’t know. That’s not normally something I would do.”
“Well, I guess I can understand.” Ashely shot her a kind smile. “I mean it’s the romance of being with a famous person, you know? He’s a hot rocker, and you had the chance, so you took it.”
Chloe gave a shy smile. “Well, that. And, he’s really a great person. I mean, what they’re saying on the news and the way he actually is are two different things. Thank you for understanding.”
Ashley patted her sister’s knee. “I’m your sister, remember? We are on the same page.”
“Maybe I messed up,” Chloe confessed. She gave a passing wave toward the television. “If his true colors are going to come out, if he is a total bad boy, then maybe I don’t want to be involved with him.”
There was a silent pause between them, and that’s when Chloe regretted the statement and wished that she could rewind the clock and instantaneously redact it. She sheepishly glanced up at Ashley.
“I mean...” she trailed off to recover. “His sister just died. I don’t know the circumstances or anything,” she backtracked.
“It’s okay,” Ashley smiled warmly. “I understand. You are just trying to protect your heart.”
“Yeah.” Chloe couldn’t believe how deep her sister could understand her emotions and her motives without even trying.
They stared at their laps for a few moments before Chloe spoke again. “I mean, he’s a really nice guy and everything. I don’t really regret sleeping with him.”
“You shouldn’t,” Ashley grinned. “Because what it boils down to, he’s a rock star.”
Chloe snorted a laugh. “He is good, too.” Her cheeks went warm.
“And he’s totally hot.” Ashley wagged her eyebrows.
Chloe’s heart flipped at the memory of his hands all over her, his head seductively exploring between her legs. She tingled at the thought of his tongue grazing over her sensitive and swollen slit. She blushed as the private thoughts bubbled back to the surface. There was definitely chemistry between her and Roman, but truth be told she’d been the one to shoot him down at the time after they’d been in bed together. He’d persisted for a while, and then, just stopped as if he’d finally gotten the hint.
“Roman had seemed eager to pursue me at the time,” Chloe admitted. “I was the one who told him I wasn’t looking for anything serious.”
“Really?” Now Ashley seemed genuinely surprised.
“Yep.” Chloe nodded. “Imagine that, right?” She shrugged and sighed, sagging her exhausted body into the back of the couch. She was tired, both mentally and physically.
She stood up, wrapping up the conversation. She was too tired to think anymore tonight. “I’m going to bed if that’s okay,” she said, hating to disappoint her sister about the movie.
“Sure.” Ashley gave her a knowing glance. “Me, too.”
“Goodnight,” Chloe waved as she pushed herself up the stairs. “See you in the morning.”
The dawn of a new day always brought with it a fresh new perspective. Hopefully, by then Emelia will have called to fill her in on what the hell was happening in Amsterdam, so she could get the worst out of her mind.
Chapter Five
He couldn’t understand a damn word.
He’d give anything to be back in the states right now.
The Amsterdam authorities spouted words that Roman couldn’t make out. Neither he nor Trevor knew a word of Dutch, and their bids of a translator had gone unnoted. They had their hands shackled behind their backs, the metal of the cuffs digging into his skin. They’d been detained at the Amsterdam-Burgwallen Police station for an hour now, and no one had bothered to scrounge up anyone who spoke a damn word of English.
“Can we get a translator?” Roman fired back at the men in dark suits, each of them having a glaring stare down competition with the pair.
The officer continued to speak in his native tongue, waving his hands around in the air in angry animation, spitting occasionally.
Roman wanted to pound his fists on the table, but they were still uncomfortably latched behind his back. “Come on!” He roared. “Speak English. English? Do you assholes know English?”
Finally, one officer nudged the other. They both stopped yelling. The younger one gave a nod of acquiescence.
“Thank you,” Trevor noted in a sarcastic tone.
Roman leaned his neck back, staring at the white fluorescent globe lights above their heads. He was impatient. He needed to get back to his grieving family and properly mourn with them. If he didn’t make it back home in time for the funeral, he would have some skulls to crack and a list of names to take out.
Both officers left the room, leaving the friends to stand there in a moment of silence.
“Jesus Christ! We need our phone call at least.” Panic fluttered in Roman’s chest. He didn’t need this added bullshit right now. The show could go on without him, but the funeral? The fucking funeral?
“You know that your family would never have the funeral without you there.” Trevor glanced at Roman with empathy blazing in his eyes. He could read the panic and the worry in Roman’s mind without him having to verbalize any of it.
Roman glanced at the faded gray linoleum table he was sitting in front of. “Yeah...I know,” he mumbled.
He appreciated Trevor’s attempt to calm his rattled thoughts, but Roman was unfortunately too far into the frenzied abyss of anger and sorrow to take heed of his best friend’s words.
A clock on the wall clicked in a steady rhythm as time passed. Five minutes. Ten. Twenty. Suddenly the door pushed open and a huge man wearing an Amsterdam official police uniform barreled in. His face was puffy and red, the annoyed look he wore suggesting he’d rather be doing anything but this. The man was a giant, his hands the size of Trevor’s head.
He flattened his palm and planted his sausage fingers onto the table in front of Trevor and Roman, giving them both a leering glare.
“I am detective Hans,” he pronounced in a thick accent.
>
Roman leaned back, muttering mostly to himself. “An English-speaking Sasquatch.”
Trevor subtly kicked Roman under the table with the tip of his shoe. Roman didn’t react; kept his eyes locked on Hans.
“I would watch it if I were you kid,” Hans warned. “You’re in a world of trouble.”
Roman narrowed his eyes and kept his gaze locked tight on the rotund man. “Please, fill me in.”
He and Trevor had been jumped first, and they’d done what they’d needed to in order to protect themselves. Maybe he’d taken his end too far, yes. His anger and grief had gone too far.
“Our officers are on the scene, reviewing surveillance camera tapes,” Hans explained. “But from eye-witness accounts, fingers point to you as the direct assailant responsible for the assault.”
“They came at us first,” Trevor protested. “They pulled knives on us. Roman had a knife to his throat.”
“It’s true,” Roman nodded solemnly. “You need to get your facts straight.” Then he smiled. “Were there cameras around when they jumped us?”
Hans jaw twitched, but he held his ground, his demeanor cool. “The man you beat in the face is in critical condition at the hospital. He has a fractured skull and is unresponsive to physicians working on him.”
Roman glanced at Trevor and then back at Hans, shifting his weight. He sniffed and cleared his throat. Fuck! It was an unfortunate incident, but the guy asked for it. He had held a knife to Roman’s throat! Roman wasn’t usually a loose cannon, but these circumstances were different. The perp had pushed his buttons too hard.
“Are you trying to guilt me into feeling some kind of sorrow or remorse for what I did to the man who attacked me?” He asked of Hans.
“I’m just doing my job,” Hans reminded him. “I’m informing you of what the witnesses have to say.”
“Well.” Roman gave a sarcastic chuckle. “Were there camera’s or not?”
“Are you wishing to make a statement at this time?” Hans retrieved a little gray tape recorder from his back pocket.