Roman: Book 1

by Dawn, Kimber S.

  I let his words and threats settle between us until I am calm enough to speak. When I look into my father’s eyes I do so with a smile on my face, “Thanks for the chat, pops. I think I’m old enough to take care of myself, so why don’t you let me worry about that.” I slap his back before loading my golf bag onto the golf cart and wave for him to hurry up. “Come on, I only have one more day of freedom.”

  I will admit this to you and no one else…I am nervous as hell. The odd thing is, I don’t know why. I can’t put my finger on it, but something—No, everything about this day feels wrong.

  My father and I are in the Library dressed and waiting for the ceremony to begin when Sebastian strides in and notifies me, ““Roman, the wedding coordinator wants us in our places outside.”

  Heather and my mother haven’t arrived yet and it doesn’t sit well with me. At all. If my father had his little heart to heart with me yesterday, I can only imagine what Heather and mother have discussed. I know my mother loves me and wants this marriage to not only happen but succeed. The question is, at what cost?

  My eyes narrow on Sebastian’s as I remain unmoved from my chair. “Heather is not here. I will not stand in place until she is. Something isn’t right.”

  “Son, come on. The ladies will be here soon.” I look between Sebastian and Father before abruptly standing. As I stalk from the room straightening my tie, I curse Heather for her damn tardiness.

  We’re all under the wisteria canopy and in place. The flowers and decorations are all elaborate, it’s a wedding fit for a king and queen. When the bridal march begins…the curtains are pulled back.

  The moment Heather steps through them my knees buckle at her sheer beauty. Luckily my father was more prepared for this reaction than I was, as he’s instantly behind me and it seems to go unnoticed.

  She isn’t wearing the gown I chose, she’s dressed in a cream colored dress with sapphire gems sewn into the bodice that stop at an empire waist where silk chiffon gathers and runs to the length of floor with a billowing train behind her. Her blond hair is swept up with loose ringlets around her face. A veil cascades down her back from a sapphire tiara at the crown of her head.

  She is the essence of beauty in its purest, most rare form. Instantly pride swells inside my chest when she finally looks up and our eyes lock. And when she smiles… I remember why I chose Heather, I remember what makes her so unique, what it is about her that makes me a lesser man, and then I promise myself to never forget all while searing the reasons and this moment into the frontal lobes of my brain so I’ll never forget.

  The only thing I can remember from the actual ceremony is her rehearsed vows, and the look on her face as my unrehearsed vows, the words straight from my heart, were spoken.

  “Heather Joslyn Mackenzie, I have not a clue as to why I was blessed to have you and your love infiltrate my life, my mind, my heart and my very soul. However, I promise you today, in front of our family and in front of God, I will spend every moment, of every day trying to become a better man, a man who deserves a woman as rare and exquisite as you. You take the darkness of my hollow heart, and you fill the void with your incandesce and happiness. For that, I will always remain in your debt. You have given me a life I never deserved. I will love you from this day forward, in sickness and in health. For it is you who has made me realize the meaning of the following scripture, as well created a drive in me, to live by these words, in hopes of becoming a man as good and deserving enough for all the days of our lives. Love is patient. Love is kind; love does not envy nor boast; it is not arrogant nor rude. It does not demand its own way. It is not irritable, and it keeps no record of being wronged. It does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love never gives up, believes all things, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures all. Love never ends. Our love, is that love, on this day and every day to follow.”

  Chapter 27

  I have no idea what I witnessed occur behind Roman’s eyes while he spoke the vows I wasn’t prepared to hear. I do know it scared the ever-living hell out of me; it also strengthens the determination of my resolve. A month ago his words would have turned me into putty in his hands and falling over myself just to hear more.

  Roman has a proclivity of believing whatever emotions he feels in a moment are genuine, and at the time they usually are, however over the last year I’ve learned they are also deciduous.

  With this learned lesson, it doesn’t matter what Roman says, how many times he says it, or when he says it, I will always remain numb. He has conditioned this response from me…I have nothing else to give to him. He has effectively snuffed out any remaining light I ever held within.

  I go through the motions of the ceremony and the reception like the perfect Stepford Wife, nodding, smiling, and speaking when appropriate. However, inside I am anesthetized, my only cognizant thought is the ticking of the minutes until this abhorrent pretense of a wedding is concluded.

  Once the final guests leave and I am able to escape to the master bathroom, I lock the door behind me and turn on the shower before sinking to the floor. The water mixes with my tears and for the first time, I allow the excruciating pain I’ve been holding inside to seep from me. And fuck it hurts, much worse than I expected.

  My skin is pruned by the time the pain subsides enough for me to perfect my mask and detach my mind from my soul. I slip a silk floor length gown on and braid my hair. I’m applying my moisturizer when Roman knocks on the door. “Heather?”

  “Yes, I’ll be out in a moment. I apologize for taking too long.” I lather my hands before drying them in a towel, check my appearance in the mirror’s reflection and walk into the bedroom to find Roman sitting in a high wingback leather chair in the corner sitting area of the master bedroom. The first few buttons of his tux are unbuttoned and his tie still hangs from his neck. He’s leaning back in the chair with his head resting in his fingers linked behind his head. He doesn’t acknowledge my entrance, only continues to stare at the ceiling.

  Without speaking I pull the comforter back and slide in between the sheets. After what feels like forever I hear him sigh and the leather creak seconds before I hear the door quietly shut.

  On my first night as Mrs. Roman Payne, I sleep in our bed alone. I sleep restlessly, waking myself several times crying and thrashing against the nightmares assaulting my sub consciousness. Nightmares of a man who is both evil and loving, an angel and Satan, the man I bound my life to, the father of my child. Evil or loving, an angel or Satan, what lies beneath the surface does not take away from the beauty that embodies Roman.

  And after that first night, I am left alone during the following days and nights as well. Weeks go by and still I do not see Roman. I spend my days inside the walls of my gilded cage of Payne Manor. My brothers remain absent and because Roman has removed every phone in the house after ending my call with Bobby, I’m left without answers as to why they haven’t come to see me.

  But in my heart, I already know why. I doubt Roman has ever even spoken to them on the phone.

  Roman’s parents stayed after the weeding. They’re nice, very friendly and loving, but it does nothing to fill the void I feel growing with every day that passes and Roman is gone.

  If I were being honest with myself or hell, even you, I would recognize this voids existence, but I know to the marrow of my bones how slippery that dark hole is…and I avoid it like the plague it is.

  Dolores and I continue our previous communication methods of me speaking and her responding by nodding or shaking her head or smiling sadly. Our conversations remain brief and superficial. It’s irritating enough to the point where I have to step from the room to keep myself from slamming her into a choke hold by her throat against the walls she constantly tries to blend in with and demanding answers. Andrew and I do not speak, other than safe topics such as the weather.

  To say I spend most of my time in solitude is an understatement. An understatement, I refuse to voice.

  I haven’t seen
my husband in over two months. Aside from when I stepped into our master bedroom on our wedding night, not once have I seen him.

  My emotions are running amok. My once compartmentalized thoughts surge and crash against my confused yet deep rooted emotions. I don’t know who I am, but I do know, whoever I am needs Roman.

  I am weak.

  I am a disgrace to all women.

  Do you know how many times in my silent tomb of solitude I have planned my escape? The saddest part is, with every passing day my perfect plans fold and buckle beneath the day before. They weaken, and I fucking hate it. His absence is doing nothing…nothing but tearing my resolve to shreds and I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to keep the threads that remain from snapping.

  My thoughts are clearly seen in the mirrors reflection looking back at a woman I don’t recognize when a knock on the door pulls me from my thoughts.

  I stand from my vanity, spray Coco Chanel Mademoiselle and step into the mist of perfume before setting the bottle onto the vanity top and walking towards the door.

  When I open the door I smile, greeting my OB specialist, Dr. Carol before closing the door and following her lead. “Mrs. Payne, you’re now 28 weeks, or 7 months along in your pregnancy making it time for your third and last ultrasound. Now, Mr. Payne has had a 4D Ultrasound machine brought in so you’re able to see your baby more clearly. It’s an astonishing machine that will literally allow us to see your baby as if it were outside the womb, technology at it’s greatest, I assure you.”

  She smiles before opening a door to a darkened room, “Go on inside, remember, gown open to the front, sit on top of the exam table, and lay the sheet across your lap.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I mutter as the door closes behind me. I make quick work of removing my clothes, slipping the gown on and grabbing the sheet before I turn to make my way to the exam table.

  Roman fucking Payne, in ALL of his glory, brings me to an abrupt halt and I gasp, cupping my hands over my mouth. “Ro—“

  Satan personified slips beneath the skin of the man I married as his devious grin smirks, raising the right side of his mouth and unveiling his hidden dimple.

  “Mouse.” Without showing an ounce of emotion he sits up, bringing his right ankle to rest on top of his left knee before steepling his fingers under his full bottom lip and continuing, “My, my. You look…well rested.”

  “Roma—“

  His hand flies into the air causing me to snap my mouth shut and bite my tongue from any verbal accusations trying to push their way out. “Mouse, you didn’t really think I was willing to stay absent for this, did you?” He pats the exam table beside him and smiles at me. “Please, sit. Let’s see our baby girl.”

  Without hesitation I make my way to the exam table and sit, after I lay back I hear the nurse come in and speak, “Heather, the gel is going to feel a little sticky, I warmed it up, so it won’t be cold.”

  I nod as the nurse spreads warm gel across my lower abdomen before my daughter’s beautiful face flashes across the screen.

  Any woman, who has ever truly loved a man, knows in life, you will only ever precisely hold a handful of memory’s that are important. One of those is falling in love. Our hearts are so self destructive and foolish, like sheep, they lead us to our own slaughter. And after we’ve shattered…we keep on begging, pleading for more, because the sweet is every woman’s drug. And even though it’s known he will wreak you, decimate you, and leave you in the dark nothingness, we still chase the sweet just like the good little addicts we are.

  I’ve been running towards him from the minute I tossed my duffle bag into the trunk of my car and raced after a life I wasn’t ready to live.

  And I hate myself as much as Roman for it.

  “There she is,” The nurse pulls my attention to the screen. “Do you see her?”

  When I see my daughter, Winter Ivy the choked sob I’d been holding back from the minute I saw Roman, shoves its way from my chest. “She’s beautiful.”

  “Of course she is, she looks exactly like her mother.” He whispers. When I look up into his eyes I see something beneath the awe, I see something I have never seen on Roman’s face…I see fear.

  After the nurse wipes the gel off my belly, turns the machine off and quietly leaves, I keep my eyes on his and ask him the question I don’t want answered, “Roman, what have you done?”

  Tears spill down my cheeks when he stands and begins pacing, raking his hands through his hair and the begging words spill out around my sobs, “Roman, what? What have you done?”

  He stops at the door and in a broken Roman voice tells me, “You’ll never be number thirteen.”

  He leaves me staring at the door as it clicks closed behind him.

  How does someone feel both numb and shredded all at once?

  Chapter 28

  Since leaving Heather the night of our wedding day, I stayed intoxicated every waking moment, and I never stayed in one city for more than a night. And every night, I was with a different woman, sometimes as many as three or four at a time. I choked them all, I nicked them all, watching them bleed out as my starved sadist relished in their screams and pleas.

  At first the women were from my social circles, but after the beast inside me grew to the monster I was turning into, Sebastian began lining up escorts in city after city. And somewhere between number thirteen in Brazil and number seventeen in Toronto, he was forced to began lining up whores, cheap whores who wouldn’t be missed when I went too far.

  Yesterday morning when I awoke from a three month binge on scotch, lying in a puddle of every ounce of number twenty’s blood, I knew there was no going back.

  I am so far away from being the person I was before I spilled my heart in front of our friends and family while Heather’s cool aloofness and dead eyes were the only thing staring back at me, and now there is no going back.

  I must say, several times in this journey I honestly believed that I was capable of being the antithesis of the man you first met. I fought with the reality of having to explain to you that people do change, and perhaps Heather was the one who would change me for the better.

  Instead, she has changed me for the worse.

  Before Heather, I truly thought my mishaps, or the twelve women who’s death I had a hand in, was simply my naivety. I was certain before Heather barged into my life that age and practice would prevent there from ever being a number thirteen.

  Now, I know it isn’t true. I am a creature of pure evil. This is who I am, who I’ve always been, who I’ll always be.

  What did I tell you in the beginning? What did I warn you of? Here, allow me to refresh your memory…

  I told you I've lived this life the only way I've deemed necessary. You will not agree with the decisions I've made, and you will hate me for the ones I did not. Every sin I’ve committed, every life I’ve ended, every soul I’ve purchased to watch in amusement fade out, I did with whole and complete intentions… of watching these sins and transgressions of mine affect the life of another.

  My intentions are my own, and I own every single one.

  I had to be where I am today in order to meet my daughter without ever having her look into Satan’s eyes. I had to be here today to silently tell the love of my life goodbye.

  I had to be here today to extract and cauterize myself like the cancer I am from the only two people I have and ever will love.

  On the car ride back to the Manor after drowning myself in scotch, Andrew’s voice jars me from fucking hell.

  “All of your belongings have been packed and are currently in route to the Boulder mansion as per your request, sir. Sebastian just sent a text message informing me all the legal paperwork has been filed and the movers are there furnishing the house. As soon as we land everything should be done.”

  My head sinks back into the leather seat as I mutter, “Thank you, Andrew.”

  Boulder, Colorado. That is where I plan to have a new clinic built and start my life over away from Heather
and our child.

  You and I both know I was never meant to have blessings like Heather and Winter, not a demonic lusus naturae like me.

  Andrew pulls the car to a stop in front of the manor’s entrance.

  “Stay in the car, I just have to grab the last of my business files and I’ll be right out. Leave the motor running.”

  “Will do, sir.”

  I silently open and close the door before making my way to my office and barely closing the door to.

  In less than five minutes I feel her eyes on me, I feel her angelic presence even with my back to the door..

  A bomb implodes within my chest cavity when I look up and see the mess I have made of her. Her makeup is smeared and her mascara is staining her beautiful face as her tears fall in rivulets. Through her whimpering she mutters broken pleas until she’s standing directly in front of me. Her arms wrap around my neck tightly and she sobs in the crook of my neck, “Please, please. Roman. Don’t do this, I beg you. I can’t. Please don’t leave me. I-I-I can’t lose you.” Her hands fist in my hair before she pulls my face to hers and kisses me with passion and fervor.

  Our mouths consume one another, our tongues slide against each other, our teeth break skin and our lips suck and pull each others into our mouths. My briefcase thuds to the floor and I cup her face in my hands, sweeping away the tears my sins have caused.

  I pull back and smile down into her beautiful messy face, and whatever heart I once harbored shatters into nothingness, “My sweet little mouse, you’ve already lost me, love.”