Roman's Redemption: Roman: Book II (Roman's Trilogy)

by Kimber S. Dawn

  I felt my control slipping as the dreaded pain I’d kept at bay began lapping, before almost pulling me under. The sound of Rome’s shoes thudding to the floor as he approached our bedroom was the only thing keeping me afloat as I dried off and slipped on a robe before begging my husband to take it away.

  And he did.

  Just like he always has done, his pain released me from the ties my own pain tethers me to.

  When I see the sun filtering though the curtains from behind closed eyelids, I sigh and roll onto my stomach, reaching my hand across the mattress searching for someone I already sense is gone.

  He’s never here in the morning.

  Then again, he never really has been has he?

  I slowly scoot to the edge of the bed, and again I’m forced to brace myself for the nausea that’s become a morning ritual over the past week.

  After it quickly passes I inhale deeply through my nose and stand, exhaling though pursed lips. In the bathroom I wash my tearstained face, brush and floss my teeth and slip into a loose t-shirt and lounge pants. When I look at the woman fingering her hair into a loose braid and tying it off with a ponytail holder I freeze at the woman staring back at me.

  “Mouse?” Roman’s stern voice pulls my attention towards him where he’s gone completely unnoticed even though he’s standing directly behind me. “Dr. Sharp is downstairs in the library. What-“

  Without giving him time to finish, I smile as brightly as I can before quickly kissing him and making my way out of the bathroom, calling out over my shoulder, “Thank you, Rome. Sorry, I was lost in thought. I still get rattled from time to time. I’m going to hurry downstairs. I don’t want to keep Dr. Sharp waiting.”

  My bare feet hit the main floor and I’m almost sprinting when I finally make it to the library. My hands nervously brush at my clothes as I walk in.

  “Heather. How are you today?” Dr. Sharp smiles up at me from her notes.

  “I’m ahh… I’m good. Great.” I nod before taking my seat and clasping my fidgeting hands in my lap.

  “Great?” She looks at me with suspicion. “Come on, haven’t we made it past this polite banter?”

  “Well, what the hell do you expect me to say? I’m doing about as shitty as a mother could be doing with a missing daughter, who just so happens to also be a masochist trying to overcome split personalities. How’s that? You like that answer better?”

  She smirks, “If it’s the truth, I do.”

  Oh honey, if I could choke you.

  An exaggerated sigh escapes as I shake my head. “It’s about as much truth as I can afford right now, Dr. Sharp.”

  “And Mace? Has she fought you for control since we talked last?” She scribbles on her legal pad.

  “There was a moment last night, I don’t know if I’d call it her fighting or me trying to just freely hand her control, whatever it was I handled it.” I keep my eyes fixated on my sweaty palms rubbing together.

  “Are you still lying about taking your medication as prescribed?” My eyes shoot to hers and before my scoffed false disbelief is cut off she hedges forward. “Do you think I’m collecting your blood once a month because it’s all I need for my new vampire diet, Heather? Don’t try to bullshit a bullshitter, sweetie.”

  “I beg your pardon?” After jotting down something on her legal pad her thumbs swipe across her cell phone before setting it on the table at her side.

  “I draw your blood to ensure the levels of medicine in your system are consistent with the therapeutic level, not to quench my thirst. I’m sorry to disappoint your romantic notions.”

  More scribbling in her notes ensues, “Tracy is headed in to gather my dinner, I mean your blood,” She chuckles, “If your levels are still nontherapeutic, I’ll give you one of two choices. You can tell me what side effects are preventing you from taking your medication as prescribed, or I can draw twice the amount of blood, write you a prescription for another medication, and we start all over. Now which will it be, Heather?” I glare at her sitting across from me.

  “Whatever it is you prescribed me makes me a zombie. I feel numb and I’m sorry, but I’m in a place in my life where I need to feel everything…or I’ll never see my daughter again. Take my damn blood, write whatever it is your heart desires on your fucking prescription pad, start the medication over. I don’t care, but you will not numb me to the fact I have a missing daughter. I won’t let you, Dr. Sharp.”

  “Did you know all you had to do was tell me what you just said and I would do anything and everything I could to fix it?”

  A soft knock interrupts us and there’s a tourniquet around my arm and the pinch of a needle sinking into my vein moments later.

  The woman whose name I didn’t know until now smiles, “Hi, Heather. I’m Tracy.” She glances at Dr. Sharp, “The usual?”

  “No, Tracy, draw up a rainbow. We’re going to be changing Heather’s medication.”

  The lady holding a needle in my arm nods popping the tourniquet off, filling tube after tube of my blood before applying soft brown tape over a wad of gauze on the inside of my elbow. Smiling as she gathers her supplies, she doesn’t speak again until rushing from the room, “Thank you, Heather. And Dr. Sharp I’ll notify you of the lab results as soon as they come back.”

  “Thank you, Tracy.” Dr. Sharp responds after the door is already closed.

  A few beats of silence pass, “So, how long has it been since Mace interrupted your daily life?”

  “Yesterday was the first time in a long time, at least a couple of months. But it was nothing like before. It was almost as if we were working together, as one, not like when we were on opposing teams. Does that make any sense?” She nods, feverishly documenting every word the crazy woman in front of her is spouting.

  “It makes sense. What emotion did you feel differently when you and Mace were on opposing teams compared to the one that occurred yesterday? Name it in one word. Appreciative? Defeated? Hopeful? Good or bad, right or wrong?”

  When I continue to stare at her, unable to speak, she continues, “Did you like it, or not?”

  Finally I sputter out, “It was okay. No, I didn’t like it but compared to the alternative, I didn’t hate it either.”

  “Good. Very good.” She looks up from her notes. “Would you say this was progress?”

  “I…Yeah, I would call it progress.” I wish she’d just spit it out already.

  “Good.” After flipping open her satchel and putting away her godforsaken legal pad she pulls out a prescription pad, “I want to start you on the lowest dose of this medication, I’ll call you in two weeks to check on you and we can decide then whether we want to stay with this dosage or try to increase it. Next month, if your blood work shows less than therapeutic levels, I’ll pull you off the medication and refer you to someone you trust more than me. Is that clear, Heather?”

  Ahhh. She’s pissed about the damn meds still.

  “Crystal.” I stand and smile briefly before making my way from the library. After shoving my feet into some tennis shoes and grabbing my purse, I run like the hounds of hell are nipping at my heels towards the garage and slam my car into reverse, barely giving the garage door enough time to raise.

  Once I’m on the interstate I release my pent up frustration and allow it to finally come out in a medley of cuss words.

  I can’t do this again. I won’t do this again. Not when I fucked it all up so badly the first time.

  In a last ditch effort I feel hope come to life at the thought; I didn’t take the medication the way Dr. Sharp prescribed it. Then as quickly as it comes it goes, dying and withering away.

  But it doesn’t matter. I still took it, and when pill bottles have more than seven warnings on one bottle telling pregnant women to avoid it, the result can’t be good.

  It can only lead to me losing not just one, but two of mine and Roman’s children.

  The jarring sound of my cell phone feels like a slap across the face causing me to reach across the cons
ole and shove my hand in my purse to find it. As I fumble around in my purse with one hand I’m constantly wiping the tears streaming down my face with the other trying to clear my blurry vision.

  I never once saw the beige car in front of me slam his breaks to avoid whatever it was in his path. Not once.

  I was just here one minute.

  Then gone the next.

  Chapter 29

  Something is off with Heather, and it’s something much bigger than our daughter missing for the past six months. When I saw her storming from the house, I immediately went to my office prepared to call and demand she come back, but instead I walk in to find Andrew slamming the phone down and spinning towards me.

  “What the hell has Heather done? Where is she?”

  I’m a little perturbed by his tone and his line of questioning. “I don’t know, I walked in MY office in order to call her and ask just that. What I want to know now is, what the hell do you mean what has Heather done?”

  I sink into the oxford leather chair in the sitting area of my office, cross my left ankle over my right knee, steeple my fingers and look over at Andrew patiently waiting for him to calm down and speak.

  “I just got off the phone with…” His head shakes before he rams his fingers through his hair and looks back at me. “I just got off the phone with her brother, Cody. Apparently yesterday she called Bobby and gave him the full tell all, PLUS a name. One we don’t fucking have, Rome. Or at least one I don’t. You? You know who this Lizbeth is?”

  Whoa, whoa, whoa. No. Not no, but hell no.

  “Who?”

  “Lizbeth? Cody called asking what the hell happened in the beginning of your relationship with Heather, then started yelling, demanding to know who Lizbeth was and what she’s done with his niece! I thought we were all still under the impression it is Sebastian behind all this! Who the fuck is Lizbeth!?”

  “I don’t know-“ The sound of my cell phone ringing is as quieting as a judges gavel.

  Andrew and I stare at each other for the full second ring. I know in the marrow of my bones, I don’t want to hear what the person calling has to say, I don’t know how, but I do.

  “This is Roman.”

  The sound of the phone being shuffled is all I hear before a woman’s voice comes on the line, “I’m looking for Mr. Payne. Roman Payne? Have I dialed the right number?”

  I’m forced to cough and clear my throat, “Yes. This is Roman Payne. And who am I speaking with?”

  “This is Dr. Kristin Elyon, I’m the admitting emergency department physician on-call at UW hospital. An hour and a half ago I had a patient brought in by EMS. After assessment she was immediately transferred to Dr. Harrison, the head of our neuro department for emergency surgery. As of this moment all I can tell you is she’s in critical condition. I’m sorry, but that’s all I can say at this time.”

  I barely hear the chair behind me crash to the floor and I begin pacing, “That’s all you can tell me?! Who is your patient!? You don’t call a possible next of kin, say they’re in critical condition, and then tell them that’s all you can say, Ms. Elyon.”

  She clears her throat before her condescending tone continues, “Yes, sir. It’s Dr. Elyon, and in the ER, that’s how I do MY job. If you’d like to come down to the hospital with the proper identification, I will be happy to further assist you. However, I will say this, Dr. Payne, if I were you, I would get here as soon as possible. Before it’s too late.”

  And with that the line goes dead.

  Andrew has been on and off the phone a hundred times; we’ve both been in the ER waiting room for longer than a lifetime.

  I provided the hospital staff with the correct identification and my reward was nothing but the confirmation that my wife, my mouse was indeed the patient on the OR table coding during emergency surgery.

  All I can think about is tomorrow is Winter Ivy’s third birthday. And I’m not sure if her mother will live to see it.

  When a man like me finds himself where I’m at, you lose recognition of right and wrong, good and evil. You lose your self-worth, your ability to make rational decisions, you lose your goddamn humanity. And the sad part is, you don’t fucking care. Not because you don’t, but because you can’t.

  If someone doesn’t come forward with some information soon, it’s likely I’m going to have to use my credentials to strong arm a nurse or two.

  Andrew slumps into the chair beside me with a huff.

  “My buddy down at SPD called, said Heather gave her brother Bobby the name Lizbeth and the name of a state: Louisiana. He also said when he asked what was going on, Bobby said ‘Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it.”

  I look over at him, “Your buddy in SPD? When did you get buddies in SPD? What’s his name?”

  Andrew shakes his head, “I’ve always had friends in the department. You didn’t think all the shit you’ve done was legal did you? Besides, it’s Chase, the electrician… you know, the one who installed all the security technology… red headed guy, professional as hell, the one who knew his shit so well? You added him to your payroll for a year and he earned enough to put himself through school and join the SPD academy.”

  “Well… Did Chase find anything out about this Lizbeth?”

  “No, but he’s working on it. If there’s a woman named Lizbeth in Louisiana, he’ll find her, Rome.”

  I nod. “And as soon as he finds her, I want her escorted to my house and put in the basement interrogation room side by side with both Dolores and my father, Andrew.”

  “Absolutely, but none of this has anything to do with Sebastian. We’ve been chasing him like a ghost since yesterday. In my opinion, by adding this Lizbeth too early on in the equation, it will take the spotlight away from the beast, causing us to overlook the important details.”

  “And if this Lizbeth is my long lost half-sister and Sebastian is my long lost half-brother? Andrew, we’ll compile all information and leads, then we’ll begin our interrogations, investigations, and water boarding. Understood?”

  He nods before standing and silently stalking from the waiting room.

  The sound of the double doors opening slowly drags my eyes from the speckled tiled floor to the brunette in a lab coat walking towards me.

  After she makes her away across the waiting room she stops in front of me and provides an effortless half smile. “Dr. Payne? Roman Payne?”

  She extends her hand and immediately I’m standing to shake it. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I’m Dr. Harrison,” She motions towards where I was sitting, “Please, if we may, let’s have a seat? Six hours is a long time to be constantly standing.”

  The fact that she’s here to tell me vital information prevents me from strangling her to death in front of God and everyone else for yapping and prolonging me from seeing my mouse.

  “The surgery was much more complicated than we originally imagined it would be but that’s not uncommon during emergency surgeries and we like to prepare for the worst.”

  Her pause could demolish most major cities.

  “However your wife’s case was the worst of the worst. Not only was it the worse, but it was almost as if she didn’t even want to try.” She offers another sad smile. “Honestly, by the time the surgery was over I couldn’t believe not only her, but also the baby, survived.”

  Her words rattle the walls of my mind.

  “By the time the surgery was over I couldn’t believe not only her, but also the baby, survived.”

  I abruptly stand making my way to the double doors with no door handles and obvious large magnets preventing the crazy people from storming in. Then I commence banging the hell out of it. “Let me in!” I spin around and grab Dr. Harrison by her shoulders and shove her towards the door, “Open it!”

  Her fingers tap a code into the key pad and both doors whoosh open. As we both walk forward side by side through the corridor, the sound of our shoes click-clacking across the linoleum floor mirrors the definition of ominous.
<
br />   After what seems like a ten-mile walk, Dr. Harrison pauses outside an ICU patient room.

  “Roman, I need you to prepare yourself. Heather’s on a ventilator and she’s also in a drug induced coma, at least until the bleeding and swelling is stabilized. If you want to talk to her, or tell her anything I can’t say for certain but it may be a benefit.” After a deep breath she asks, “Ready?”

  As she opens the door I shake my head before pushing the words out, “You said baby. You said baby.”

  Both accusations seem to go unheard.

  As does the whisper when Dr. Harrison leaves us alone, “You said baby.”

  Chapter 30

  I don’t know how, nor do I care why, everything I’ve dreamed over the last five years has come to fruition. My fingers curl and twist in Mac’s silky blond tresses before clamping down and yanking her head into my lap so hard and fast her forehead slams into my abdomen and my cock slips through the ring of muscles at the back of her throat causing her to gag.

  A groan transforms into a growl as it releases from my chest and my fists tighten even more in her hair. The orgasm barreling its way through me causes me to fuck her face with every ounce of strength I have and it’s the most exhilarating feeling. So exhilarating it causes my mind to short out and confusion sets in.

  Around the gagging and choking noises, the moans and mewls are no longer Mac’s, and when I open my eyes it isn’t her silky blond hair in my fists.

  It’s Lizbeth’s.

  Lizbeth’s slobbery mouth slurping and sucking, Lizbeth’s course orange hair. It isn’t Mac’s dark brown eyes looking up at me, it’s my sister, Lizbeth’s hazel eyes.

  When I jerk, jumping from the bed, my knee connects with her chin and her teeth clack together, “Lizbeth! What the fuck?”

  Her wide, muddy topaz orbs pool with tears as she speaks from behind her hand cupping the blood pouring from her mouth, “The fuh?”