She rolls her eyes.
Rolls. Her. Fucking. Eyes.
And, as if her disobedient disregard had not already ignited my anger, she leaves my question unanswered and spits out, “Go fuck yourself, Roman. I don’t care what you want, just end this bullshit already! You win. Whatever it is you want, it’s yours, I don’t care anymore. Congratulations. Now can we please speed this along?”
Before I realize I’ve even moved I feel her face cracking against the oak desks solid surface beneath my hands. I lean over and growl against the flesh of her neck just below her ear, “You seem to have forgotten who is in charge here, mouse.” My hands fist in her hair before jerking her head back to bring us eye to eye, “Are you certain you even know what it is you’re asking for by requesting your beloved number? Let me enlighten you, it’s not only your subsequent death, mouse, I’ve made sure your punishment would reach much further than just your little pathetic life. Allow me to break it down for you, first, I make a call to inform Andrew of your change of heart leading him to his next course of action: making a call and delivering a code word which results in your youngest brother, Bobby losing his head. When Andrew receives conformation of this tasks completion, Rick will follow both his uncle and youngest brother’s fate. And then, after receiving confirmation of the second tasks completion, things get really fun. It won’t be just Cody losing his head, but his pregnant fiancé as well. Because, let’s be honest, mouse, what’s a bride without her future husband, what’s a mother without a father? My thoughts exactly, mouse, absolutely nothing.”
I finish explaining the terms and conditions associated with her accepting the reward of becoming number thirteen, and my rigid frame relaxes in response to the tension I can feel rise between us.
“Ahh… so you had forgotten what it was keeping you at my side. To think I’d actually questioned your sanity, the good news is, I’m always able to revive a memory, a mind… that can be a bit more difficult.” I chuckle releasing her hair allowing her face to once again slam onto the desk.
The instinctual attempt of placing her hands so her face will not slam into the desk does not materialize and face and watch as she doesn’t even move her hands in the instinctual attempt to stop her face from slamming against the desk again before
Anyone without my intelligence would probably see this as a sign of her utter defeat however I see it for what it truly signals… MY complete and unmitigated defeat.
You see, you can only physically and mentally push a person so far. There is a fine line a sadist must maintain in order to keep his prey on the brink of breaking without them falling over the edge.
If the line is crossed and your prey has nothing left to lose, so much so they relinquish the deeply engrained impulse of fight or flight.
The purpose of the game is never to allow your opponent over the precipice until YOU decide the game is over.
Once you’ve crossed that fine line may as well be fighting a corpse, she may still be breathing but the moment she vacates her basic instincts she apprehends any control you ever held.
But when you want something as badly as I want Heather, you can’t shrug off the loss and move on. You have to recognize and concede your impending defeat, quickly and efficiently adapt a new method of modus operandi and abruptly strike with your new plan of assault.
I grab the cell phone from the desk where it lays mere inches from her face and dial Andrew. When he answers I hesitate as my eyes fall to Heather’s staring blankly ahead, I internally pray before allowing my words to throw the wheels in to motion, “Andrew, Ms. Mackenzie has unfortunately reconsidered my proposal, I’ll need you to call in favor one and once conformation is received via video and audio, continue with protocol until we’ve verified all five missions are complete.”
Heather’s eyelashes flutter closed as Andrew questions, “Five, sir?”
“Five. I don’t give a fuck if you have to cut the baby out yourself to prove the life is extinguished, Andrew. Do you understand?”
“Shit. Yes, sir. Understood.” He sighs in resignation and I slide my finger ending the call.
I drop the phone back down in front of her face still lying on the desk and after I witness her involuntarily flinch at the sound, I don’t allow myself to grin until my back is turned to her as I walk out of the office.
Chapter 16
As long as I keep my eyes clenched closed I’m able to remain numb and deny any impulse of survival instincts. However when Roman’s iPhone clatters on the desk inches from my face he might as well have been blessed with the powers of the Gods to do exactly what he just bragged was a difficult feat.
“…the good news is, I’m always able to revive a memory, a mind… that can be a bit more difficult.”
It can’t be that fucking difficult, not with how quickly he effectively shoved me from my blissful numbness where ninety-nine percent of what he threatened fell on deaf ears. Ears that instantly are berated with every single threat with the sound of his phone hitting, signaling their potency and volume level to increase and slam into my mind.
As his deranged words replay in my delayed conscious thought process , I grab the phone from the desk and through my quickly swelling eyes try to turn it on before randomly pressing numbers out of desperation. By the time it dawns on me I’d be more likely to win not only an escape but also fifty million dollars from a lottery I never signed up for both of my eyes have swollen completely shut.
My desperate sob of defeat echoes off the bare walls of the room as I reach my hands out trying to blindly make my way from the office and through the suite. I stagger on shards of glass stabbing my feet with every step until finally my hands collide with the doorframe. I round the corner only to feel my hip bone connect harshly on a blunt object causing my balance to abandon me and I fall on my back right before the back of my head cracks against the marble floor. Blinding light flashes through my brain seconds before the phone slips from my hand and divine blackness delivers me from this evil.
Roman’s voice sounds as if he under water until the timbre gradually clears and my pounding head deciphers his words, “…as I said, I stepped away for a late lunch business meeting, when I returned the housekeeper was in hysterics shouting in broken French. I wasn’t able to understand her until she calmed somewhat and finally took me to where my fiancé, Heather was lying unconscious with her head in the lap of another housekeeper. My first assumption from what I saw was she’d interrupted a burglary and the bastards bludgeoned her until she was a bloody mess.”
“Mr. Payne, I understand your position but that does not alter hospital policy. You really must wait in the waiting room, Sir. I’ll let the nurses know to notify you when we feel she is ready for visitors, as of right now Ms. Mackenzie is still unconscious. If I may make a suggestion; this would be an opportune time to return to the hotel, get some rest, or take a shower to ease your nerves. I can assure you we have her care being administered by the best of the best.”
“The best of the best? Is that so? And do you consider yourself one of the healthcare providers under that title?”
“Of course. I specialize in not only Neuro—“
“It is a damn shame when your entire argument collapses on itself when the words you use contradict themselves in said argument, wouldn’t you agree?”
“I’m not—“
“I’ll be at my hotel, not your horrid waiting room when you deem her ready for visitors, however as for her consciousness, she’s been acutely awake, alert, and oriented since around the beginning of our conversation. Tsk, tsk… Embarrassing is it not?”
The sound of his retreating footsteps immediately result in the release of tension tightly coiled into every muscle group I possess. I sigh in relief, but it’s cut short when the pounding in my head increases turning my sigh into a moan of pain.
“Ms. Mackenzie, I’m Dr. Pearson, the doctor in charge of your care. You are at Centre Hospitalier Universitaire Lenval. Can you tell me how are you feeling? Can you open your eyes?”
My right eye flutters open but the brightness of the room and the beeping of the monitors that have gone unnoticed until this very moment causes pain to splinter through my skull again and my eye squeezes shut. Behind my eyelids the brightness of the room dims. “I’ve closed the blinds and dimmed the lights; it should make it easier for you to open your eye for me. Will you try again for me, please?”
I cautiously open my eye to peek through my lashes, bracing for the pain. Slowly I open my eye and relax as the room comes into focus. I survey the room looking for the person connected to the voice softly speaking and settle on a petite woman with dark hair and blunt cut bangs.
I watch as she nervously pushes her glasses up her nose before smiling, “Very good. I want you to blink for me. Once for yes, twice for no. Are you in pain?” I furiously blink my eye until she leans over me and softly repeats herself, “Ms. Mackenzie. One blink for yes. Two blinks for no. Now, are you in pain?”
I blink once and she removes a syringe from her white lab coat before connecting it to my IV and pushing the plunger of the syringe slowly.
“This is Diluadid. It’s a pain medication, its main side effect is drowsiness, however if you can please, I need you to remain awake while I ask you a few questions, do you think you can do that for me? Remember, Blink once for yes, twice for no.”
I blink once. The drug begins to make itself known as the sharp pain ebbs and drowsiness settles my racing thoughts. “I’ve read over the police report, but there are several holes. Now, think back, can you remember if you were alone at the time of the incident?”
I blink once and stare at her. Through the drowsiness I realize there are two different ways I can go about this. One option will lead to Roman Payne under lock and key, at least until his army of attorneys arrive. The other option is to respond the way Roman would want me to by leaving as many holes as possible while backing up the pieces of story he knew I was alert enough to hear.
The two factors causing my hesitation are one, if my brothers are already dead there’s no reason for me not to go with option one. However, if my brothers are still alive, I have no other option than to go with the second in order to keep them alive.
At this moment I have no clue where their fates stand, taking choice from the equation. I do however know which option I can choose and always easily go back and undo.
In the end it is the doctor’s next words that seal my very own fate.
“Does the father of the baby know you’re fourteen weeks pregnant?”
I struggle to use my heavy limbs to sit up and my mangled throat shoves out, “Wha-?”
“Shh. Shh, shh, shh. Lie back down before you injure yourself any further.”
I gawk at her in utter horror, begging her to explain there has been a mistake, or hell, even laugh and announce it’s April Fool’s day in France, but all she does is look down at me in a mixture of pity and empathy.
“I guess it’s safe to assume by your reaction you didn’t know you were pregnant either.”
I blink once answering, yes.
“Hmmm… Well, for now I would like to congratulate you,” She smiles at me and I blink over and over two blinks—pause—two blinks—pause—two blinks—pause.
“Shh…Heather, stop it, you’ll send yourself into an anxiety attack or worse a seizure if you don’t calm down. Okay,” She sighs as she takes her glasses off with one hand and squeezes the bridge of her nose with the other but continues, “So, I-I take it this is not welcome news.” She huffs, blowing her bangs out of her eyes before replacing her glasses on her face. “Were you alone in your hotel suite, to the best of your knowledge?”
I stare up at her for three full seconds before blinking once.
“Did you walk in on a burglary, Heather?”
One blink.
“Can you recall how many there were?”
Two blinks.
“Was Mr. Payne in the suite or anywhere in the hotel at the time of the attack?”
After staring into her green eyes until mine dry and well with tears, I blink twice sending them spilling down the sides of my face.
“No? Are you saying no, Heather? Or are you blinking your tears away? Blink once for tears, and twice for no being your answer.”
I quickly blink twice but on the second blink I leave my eyes closed allowing the narcotic IV drugs to pull me under into the blessed dark blanket of unconsciousness.
Chapter 17
I hope. Which is something I can honestly tell you I do not recall ever doing before, however hope is the emotion I felt swelling in my chest as I walked away from my little mouse lying in the hospital bed. I hoped she would prove herself worthy of these feelings I have vehemently tried to deny from the beginning. To say she has pleased me immensely would be a mockery of the feelings I feel surging through me as I listened to Dr. Pearson retell pieces of the conversation she had with Heather after my departure yesterday.
She babbled on about something I will have to discuss with Heather whenever she is ready, but honestly I barely made out the words before spinning on my heel and stalking towards the waiting room dialing Andrew.
“Mr. Payne?”
“Andrew, my bride to be has decided she is indeed a worthy companion. Any plans her accident put on hold, cancel. Protocol is to remain as before.”
“Will do, sir. And congratulations to both you and Heather.”
“Thank you, Andrew.”
I walk into the gift shop and spend ten torturous minutes picking through the disgrace of flower arrangements available, I settle on the only one without a single bruised petal and hand it to the florist. “Take that cellophane off. Do you have a vase in this God forsaken shop?”
“Ahh…Y-yes, sir.” I follow the direction she points to with my eyes and grit my teeth to keep myself from cursing when I see the selection.
Cheap dime store glass litters a shelf on the opposite wall. I sigh heavily and select the least offensive in the collection and hand it to the cashier as she removes the remaining mustard yellow cellophane. “Here, put them in here with water, and put some of those little sprigs of white flowers in and around them too.”
“Baby’s breath is ten dollars extra.”
My eyes cut to her in a scathing look as I slide my black American Express card across the counter. “Do I look like I care about spending ten extra dollars on baby’s breath?”
She does as I ask without further comment and swipes my credit card as I jot down a note tor my little mouse.
I am euphoric as I stroll towards Heather’s room with the ghastly bouquet held proudly in front of me. I rap graciously on the door and push into the room scanning briefly before my eyes land on hers. My forward momentum falters as my eyes consume the sight before me. What I see before me is not what I assumed was under the macabre of bloody matted blond hair covering the woman’s face the hysterical housekeeper held in her lap weeping over.
Nothing could have prepared me for this gruesome sight lying disfigured in front of me.
The left side of Heather’s face is so swollen it resembles a grotesque mask of a creature whose left eye has been sewn shut in the corner near her temple with a line of stiches from her hairline to behind her ear. The right side is equally bruised and marked with obvious finger prints, all ten easily discernable and if anyone had mind to, they could easily match mine with the ones across her battered face.
When I barely see a sliver of her white sclera around her brown iris my lips try and fail at attempting even half of a smile before I whisper, “Hey, you…”
Her eye closes as she rolls her head away from my gaze and tears leak from her swollen eyes and I no longer wonder at the strange tightness in my chest. I know Heather has found my heart and I have no words, only the thought buzzing in my brain ‘How many firsts can one man bear in a single day?’.
Any doubts I had about being born with a heart unable to feel love, pain, or both all at the same time, is instantly shredded within this single moment.
I lean over to set the flowers on the bedside table and mutter a disgrace of all apologizes, “Sorry, they’re hideous and cheap, I know.”
Then with a divine grace she trumps the only other person besides myself I have witnessed decimate a soul in one swift strike in less than a second she splits me from chin to groin with nothing more than seven raspy words, “I’m pregnant, Roman. Congratulations, it’s a girl.” Her harsh voice whispers, sending my hand in an involuntary seizing movement that sends the goddamn flowers and it’s vase crashing to the floor.
A myriad of thoughts and emotions bombard me and I slowly retreat, dropping my chin to my chest. The sudden jolt of my shoulders hitting the wall behind me barley registers as I slide down the cold wall.
My ass connects with the floor and my feet slip from beneath me as my hands fall lifelessly to my sides. My eyes stare blankly at the back of Heather’s head as her words ravage all I have ever been.
“I’m pregnant, Roman. Congratulations, it’s a girl.”
Chapter 18
I watch Roman emerge from Mac’s room and know I only have a short amount of time to sneak inside. I have to know she’s okay. And I won’t rest until I see her alive with my own two eyes.
I silently slip inside the room pausing as my eyes adjust to the dim lighting. A few seconds pass before my eyes make out the chaotic mess he’s made of her yet again. Rage ignites and flares through my veins as my vision blurs in tears and red haziness.
I gradually move closer trying to control the bile splashing up in the back of my throat.
My eyes trace the lines of her profile and while anguish grips my soul I whisper in a broken voice, “Ce qu'il a fait pour vous?”
What has he done to you?
How many times will it take before she finally runs away? How much blood? How many broken bones?
She is the strongest, weakest woman I have ever known. And as pathetic as it is, it makes me love her even more.
Roman: Book 1 Page 9