Roman: Book 1

by Dawn, Kimber S.

  After I have to literally yank her hands from clutching my suit jacket and shirt, I grab my briefcase and turn to leave. The sight of my pregnant wife sinking to the floor crying out in a sobbing mess while cradling her swollen belly is a sight I will try every minute, of every day to erase. And I will fail.

  “Goodbye, Heather. Everything is yours. I’ve made sure you and our daughter will never go without.” I straighten my suit jacket and button it on my way out of the office, then I walk down the massive staircase, and through the front doors of Payne Manor.

  Tears bite behind my eyes as the driver pulls away and down the willow tree lined driveway. Thankfully I am able to quickly blink them away and efficiently shut Heather out of my conscious mind and thoughts.

  Chapter 29

  When I first began working for Roman, I knew he was a sick motherfucker. I not only kept the files I’d made on each of his victims, but studied them too. Hell, whose first job do you think it was to clean up his big fat mess with Mac’s Uncle? Me. I had to shove that fat bastard down the trash incinerator shoot. He was mostly in pieces though because lets be honest, a man pushing two-fifty will never fit down a two by two square foot shoot.

  It wasn’t long after cleaning up that mess, when I began to rarely see the man I knew him to be. Over the last year I witnessed this evil man transform a hull of who he was when we first met. Other than a few bumps and bruises on Heather that he himself cleaned up, the beast within him had gone dormant. Silent. At one point I’d thought he’d died altogether.

  It wasn’t until I found him sloppy drunk on his wedding night cursing his rage out at no one in his office when I realized the old beast was still alive and well, and he was also raring and ready to come out and play.

  Did I create the monster he is today? No, I did not. I will admit I fed him. From Los Angeles to Hong Kong, to Hawaii then Canada and finally in New York as well as every major city in between. And after I fed him I cleaned up his mess.

  He knew what he was becoming, and what it was costing him.

  After I’ve signed the last of the paperwork for Roman’s new home I smile at the sexy brunette attorney and wink as I slip my fountain pen inside the pocket of my suit jacket, and turn to leave.

  When the plane takes off I sigh in relief, knowing I have finally, after all this time being a puppet, mastered the puppeteer.

  Knowing I was the man behind the curtain leading Roman to single handedly give me not only his wife, but his life, makes every ounce of hard work and patience worth it.

  As soon as Roman gave me my next assignment, I knew all my painstakingly made plans had in the end come to fruition. My assignment? Take care of his precious Heather. Ensure her happiness; watch over her while Roman starts his life over in the Rocky Mountains.

  I wouldn’t call my feelings for Mac infatuation or obsession. Simply put, the moment I first laid eyes on her, I knew she was the one. I knew she was going to be a hard one to win over and that it would require patience and calmness on levels I had never functioned at before.

  But that doesn’t matter. I have always known this was war. I knew from the beginning this would be a war worth years in the making. A war I began waging the night I silently watched as he strangled Brittany Sloan while raping her of her virtue.

  Heather was different. From the very beginning I knew she was made for me. I don’t have the words to describe the connection between Heather and I, so I know I’ll never know how to explain it. Having to stand aside while the woman you love repeatedly begs for affection from a man who batters her face and rapes her body without remorse, then be forced to watch her daily as she swells with his child, it was almost more than I could handle. Almost.

  I was a thread away from completely snapping during their wedding, certain I would ruin everything, yet somehow I persevered and maintained control.

  And now, every agonizing moment has finally paid off.

  Mac doesn’t really know who I am, or what lengths I will go to make sure she becomes mine.

  Chapter 30

  I fell asleep on Roman’s office floor in a crumbled mess, much like I had before , after withstanding blow after blow in my first days here. Except this time he didn’t leave my bones broken and my skin split. No, it was much worse this time. He left me, my soul, my being - he left Heather Mackenzie Payne broken and split and utterly alone.

  It’s funny what a woman is able to withstand physically and emotionally when she loves someone. We will walk through the bowels of hell and never flinch. We condition ourselves to be strong enough all the while handing over any and all power to the one single person who already holds the power to decimate us . And we do it all on nothing but faith.

  When you realize, as I just have, that you not only allowed him to turn you into an abuse victim, but you eagerly gave him every tool and then assisted in the transformation, it wrecks you, physically, mentally, emotionally on every level down to your core.

  No woman is ever ready for such a catastrophic epiphany; I know I for damn sure wasn’t.

  It’s sobering, it’s painful . So painful I could go through the entire thesaurus under pain and I still would not be able to find a way to term it correctly.

  Roman’s last words ricochet through me.

  “Goodbye, Heather. Everything is yours. I’ve made sure you and our daughter will never go without.”

  Once they resonate through the tattered pieces left of my heart… I smile. I can’t help it.

  “Everything is yours.”

  I did not win. However, truthfully with Roman, did I ever really expect to? No. I will concede I did have brief moments of hope and glimpses of what we could be, but I always knew, Roman was a man who you can’t win against. A woman can’t win a heart that wasn’t ever there.

  Silver linings… no , I did not win. But goddamn it, I didn’t fucking lose either, did I?

  During the time between then and now, I gathered enough courage to call my brothers. Our initial conversation was twisted up in as many lies as thruths, and in the end the cobbled path I mortared together of our shattered lives, is where my brothers and I have come to stand.

  Bobby recently moved in to help me out with small renovations I decided on, while the professionals worked on the big renovations. I want Roman completely erased from every inch of this house before our daughter, Winter Ivy comes into this world, more specifically this house.

  I’ve just finished the wainscoting in the nursery when I hear someone walk in behind where I sit sprawled out looking from color swatch to color swatch. “I know you think it’s stupid, but please humor me, the color of winter ivy bleeds from pale jade to dark emerald green. I think the dominant color should be jade, and any accent painting we do should be with the a dark purple. But not too much. I don’t want it to look like Hello Kitty exploded in my daughters nursery. Then we can do the same color scheme with her bedding and the sitting area’s furniture. Whatcha think, Bo?”

  The person who chuckles behind me isn’t Bobby. “Well, I don’t know what Bo thinks, but I think it sounds beautiful, Mac.”

  Once I pull my big ass up from the floor and turn to see Sebastian I’m almost out of breath. My eyes dart from his to behind him and back several times before I can gather my composure and calmly ask, “Seb, please tell me he isn’t here.”

  His green eyes sparkle against his olive skin and he runs his hands through his dirty blond hair that is well past in need of just a trim, but it works. Nicely I must say. When he smiles his white teeth flash for a split second before he speaks, “No, darlin’. He isn’t here. Just me. I wanted to drop by and check on you. I know it’s been a while, but I’ve been worried ‘bout you and the baby. He let me go, hell, I think it was days after y’all got married. I haven’t heard from him since. I woulda come by sooner, but I just found out two weeks ago he left…shit, I’m sorry—“

  My fidgeting hands comb through my hair and then brush away wrinkles that don’t exist in my stretchy cotton maxi dress while I blabber on
, flustered, “No, no. Not at all. You’re fine, Seb, really. It was… well, you were there, you know. What he did was necessary for me and my daughter to ever truly have a happy life. I’m thankful he was able to see past his own greed and gluttony to let us go even though I begged and pleaded for him to stay.” I smile up at him. “I guess sometimes even you can’t see your own forest for your trees.”

  His hand is beside my face and he’s tucking my hair behind my ear and before I can register what he’s doing he’s already done and both of his hands slide into his faded jean pockets as his head ducks to hide his grin. “Yes, ma’am. I’d say it happens more than most people would like to admit.” He looks back at me as concern flashes across his face and his dark green eyes scan mine. “You sure you’re alright, darlin’?”

  I feel my eyes well with tears and I nod, “I can’t afford to not be okay, Seb. I…it still hurts, but not as bad as it would’ve if he had stayed and continued his ‘Sweet Roman’ act only to leave me and Winter later down the line.”

  He jerks his head toward the paint, “You mind if I help?”

  “Actually, I would love some help if you don’t mind. My feet are swelling like crazy and I’m certain this child inside me thinks she’s starving to death even though we just ate a whopper and two quarts of mint chocolate chip ice cream.” I laugh before heading towards the door and asking over my shoulder, “I’m going to grab a sandwich or ten, you want anything?”

  His chuckle makes something happen inside my belly that I haven’t felt since Roman—pre-France. Butterflies. I feel butterflies and I know enough to know enough, that they have nothing to do with my pregnancy. “Nah, I’m good, darlin’. Go get yourself something to eat, I’ll get us started on the jade part of this job of yours.” He smiles before pouring the paint into the tray.

  I slowly walk down the stairs towards the kitchen and make myself four grilled cheese sandwiches. Since Roman took Andrew when he left, I’ve been left to my own devices in the kitchen.

  Once I’m finished making my sandwiches I carry them, two glasses, and a pitcher of sweet tea on a tray up to the nursery and after Seb lays out a clean canvas drape where the sitting area will be, I sit down and eat while sharing a pitcher of sweet tea with my new friend.

  Most importantly, I laugh. I mean I belly laugh for the first time in I can’t tell you how long. And the whole time I feel happiness fill the void Roman carved out for himself, only to leave it empty when he walked away from me.

  Chapter 31

  Heather’s due date was yesterday, New Years Eve. Where have I been since December thirteenth? Shacked up in my pool house, or rather, Heather’s pool house beside said pool which I took a sledgehammer to its heating system in October to ensure no one could swim in the pool or find evidence of my residency.

  Have I been plotting and scheming…somewhat.

  Have I been forced to partake in questionably legal activities…possibly.

  Am I exactly where I am supposed to be when all the lights in the house come on at three in the morning on January second signaling one thing and one thing only? Fucking bet your ass I am!

  My fingers blur across the screen dialing Dr. Carol, on the first ring she answers, “Dr. Car—“

  “Hey shut the hole in your face and listen. Have you spoken to Heather within the last hour? Do not speak unless it is to answer MY questions.”

  “Ahh… Mr. Payne?”

  “What. The. Fuck. Did. You. Not. Comprehend?” I spit through my gritted teeth.

  “No, No sir, I-“ I hear the phone shuffle for a second, “It’s her beeping in, I’ll call you back in a moment.”

  “You will fucking NOT! Answer the call, I’ll be on hold!”

  The phone clicks and I violently pace back and forth in the small quarters I’ve cut a footpath through the carpet in over the past few weeks. I do the only thing I have done to keep calm since learning the name of my salvation.

  I spell it over and over.

  “W I N T E R I V Y—W I N T E R I V Y.”

  The letters have been tattooed across my heart since the day first I heard the name of my angel, the only good thing I have ever brought into this world, the mecca of all things pure created by a sliver of Satan personified and the martyrdom of her mother’s saintliness.

  When they ask me in Purgatory where do I believe I belong and why, I will tell them the Treacherous Circle of Hell, Dante’s ninth circle of Hell.

  I had it all, and like a fucking fool I let it slip away.

  “Dr. Payne?”

  I fumble and almost drop the phone but continue pacing.

  “Yes?”

  “Your wife’s water ruptured about fifteen minutes ago, she took a shower—“

  “She fucking what?” I growl.

  “She took a shower, most women do, Dr. Payne, and you and I thank them for it, get out of daddy mode and into doctor mode.”

  “I am in doctor mode, Daddy fucking doctor mode!”

  “Oh good God, this is why, this is why they prohibit us to care for our own family members.”

  She sighs.

  “I’m headed to the hospital now, I’ll call you after I finish my admit assessment.”

  My laugh is twisted and sardonic, “Carol, I’ll be in the doctor’s dictation, waiting, watching her fetal pulse across the strip as well as the admit notes while they are being entered into the computer. I’ll see you there, do not, fuck up!”

  I shove my cell into the back pocket of my scrubs before sliding into my McLaren F1 and putting the petal to the floorboard, testing the rev limiters abilities, spraying gravel into the air on my way to the hospital.

  Why did I leave Heather to deal with this all alone?

  WHY!

  I should have been there, the entire time, I should have been there for the two of them, and I wasn’t.

  I let her down, as always. I let her down.

  I charge, horses rearing, exhaust breathing ferociously, into the parking garage and power slide into a spot that isn’t reserved for me but someone else presently, slamming the car door upon exiting the car, I haul ass to the labor unit.

  My Faragamo’s come to a screeching halt in the deserted nurse’s station and my eyes land on the board with one patient and one Fetal Heart Monitoring Strip on the entire unit.

  Under ‘Patient List’ I read Heather Payne, Gravida 1 Para 0, GBS (-), Dilatation 8.5cm, Effacement 100%. Doctor: Carol.

  All I gather of any importance from all of what I just read, I scream aloud, “She’s almost nine fucking centimeters?”

  My focus shifts to Winter’s heart rhythm strip and instantly I feel my stomach drop, my heart break, and my mind fracture.

  When a baby’s heart rate is not detectable on an internal fetal monitor that means one thing and one thing only.

  My daughter is no longer alive inside her mother.

  Rational thought leaves me and I run like the Hounds of Hell are on my heels.

  As soon as I slam into the delivery room and hear Heather’s cries and laughter blend with the sound of our daughter’s wailing cries I thank God for the blessings I never have nor ever will deserve.

  As a man, an evil sadistic monster who in all honesty should have been eradicated in his crib as an infant, I am still able to discern when luck, or fate has been kind to me.

  When my eyes meet my daughters I realize that I am coming face to face with my savior and all I can do is whisper her name, “Winter.”

  Dr. Carol is taking care of Heather, opposite Winter’s side of the curtain, giving me a chance to take in the new staples of my life.

  I never intended to meet an angel, much less come close enough for her hand to grasp my pinky finger. Winter instantly wraps my entire being around hers when her fingers circle mine.

  When I tell you my daughter is the most beautiful baby in the whole world, I say it as not only a doctor who sees baby after baby being born everyday, I say it because she completely is.

  Winter Ivy is beauty derived from goodn
ess and radiating from her tiny spirit.

  Tears unabashedly stream down my dark, self destructive, sinful face as I stare in awe at this little piece of perfect I helped in creation. As I brush my lips across her forehead my tears drop, landing on her cheeks. Wiping my tears from her face, I whisper brokenly to her, “You’ll always be mine, baby girl, always. I never meant for you and I to meet, but fate and I haven’t ever really seen things eye to eye.” Winter’s cries go silent and I am left staring into eyes that reflect my own, and then…then she smiles up at me. “Winter, I promise you I am coming back for you and your momma. But until then, be a good girl and listen to what your momma says. Do as she tells you, princess. Please.”

  I kiss every one of her ten fingertips, then the crown of her ink black head before turning to leave.

  I have a new purpose. I know that now and nothing, no one will stand in my way of obtaining and securing my new purpose in life.

  “Rome, it’s time you leave. You can’t keep coming in and out of her life. I allowed you to stay in her pool house until the baby was born, but now that you’ve meet her, it’s time you get your shit, and do what you know is best. I have her now. And unlike you, I will take care of her.

  His every word is a stab through my heart. And when I turn to lock eyes with him, it dawns on me that this is the man.

  I always knew there was an unknown factor hiding in the shadows. I just never expected him to be so damn close.

  “Sebastian,” I nod. “How have you been?”

  Chapter 32

  When the crippling pain wakes me, I could spit fire I’m so pissed at myself for spending the time showering, shaving from armpits to ankles, and then lathering Pink ‘fresh & clean’ lotion into every skin cell I own.

  I showed up eight centimeters dilated, more fresh and clean than any other pregnant woman in the history of labor and delivery-ism, costing myself an epidural because of my impromptu shower, shave, and Brazilian blow out. However, when I see my daughter’s sweet face for the first time, nothing, and I mean nothing else in the universe mattered after our eyes locked.