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

by Kimber S. Dawn

  Before I can answer she scurries off the bed towards the bathroom.

  I don’t want to have this conversation. I’ve been lucky enough to be able to put it off this long though.

  I’ve always known her feelings for me ran a little deeper than acceptable and for that reason I’ve always taken the necessary precautions to keep her at a distance. However, this game of house we’re playing is obviously beginning to blur the lines of right and wrong and I will take whatever drastic measures I feel are necessary to staunch this twisted fixation she has for me. I don’t have time to deal with her romantic notions or her childish fairytale dream of us riding off into the sunset in love. I have my own shit to deal with, and if she isn’t helping me get the revenge I deserve, or Mac, then she’s a weak link.

  All weak links must be snipped loose, otherwise they’ll only drag you further down.

  When she walks back into my room she keeps her gaze to the floor and my eyebrow quirks in question. “Thorry, duss needed ta grab my…” She slips her green silk gown up her pale thighs then each strap on to a shoulder and quickly turns to leave but my hand clamping down on the top of her arm stops her in her tracks.

  “Let me see. What hurts?” She shakes her head before trying to turn her face away from me. My other hand grasps her chin and wrenches her face up to mine, “I said let me see.”

  When her mouth opens and I count three teeth missing, I curse, “Fucking bloody hell.” My hand stings before I realize I’ve struck her face. “See, Lizbeth? Do you see? This is why you are not to act on these incestuous, dirty thoughts about your brother. You’re fucking sick, do you hear me? Let it happen again and it will be the very last time. By any means necessary. Understood?”

  Tears stream from her closed eyelids and down her face, searing a wet streak over the reddened hand shaped whelp on her left cheek.

  I shove her face backwards, “Get out of my sight.”

  Before my door closes I hear Winter gasp, and her words are then muffled as the door clicks shut, “Mummy! Wha happen?”

  Shit.

  This is exactly what I do not need.

  Do you see that young woman there? In the corner. Her eyes are always cast downward, if you’ve ever cared enough to pay attention. You see her? Good.

  Now, watch her…if you pay attention. Pay very, very close attention, you’ll see when she flashes her hazel eyes as she glances up she’s quietly watching everything from behind the veil of her red ringlets.

  The poor child, she’s pitiful.

  See how everyone around her so easily overlooks her? It’s been this way all of her life.

  I told you she was pitiful.

  Such a shame.

  She wasn’t born blessed with her mother’s olive complexion or green eyes like her brother, Sebastian. She was also raised worlds apart from the way Sebastian was. Her mother sent her to boarding schools in Europe very early on and she doesn’t remember meeting her mother until the first time her school allowed her to go home for the Christmas holiday. Elizbeth was fourteen years old, dawning the precipice of becoming a woman. The day the plane landed on a narrow bumpy runway in the middle of California was the best day of her life. The excitement zipping through her almost made her feel breathless.

  And even though you couldn’t see the disappointment in her eyes, it was there too. Only for a moment, but it was there.

  Her mother didn’t look like she’d anticipated. Actually she looked nothing at all like the mother Elizbeth always saw in her mind’s eye. No long flowing hair and constantly changing hazel eyes, definitely not slim, frail and dainty like herself. Her mother had long black wavy hair that spilled over her shoulders and down her back, every line and curve of her mother’s bronzed skin was accentuated with different shades of colors. Her mother’s figure was curvy, with large breasts and flared hips. Dolores Gorman was absolutely beautiful.

  Elizbeth Gorman looked absolutely nothing like her.

  But she refused to let it damper her happiness. Not today, not this day, she’d waited too long.

  The days flew by so fast, and she tried to make time slow down, she did. She stayed up as late as her eyes would let her, and she woke up every morning before the sun rose.

  On the night before her last night in California, she decided to take a walk through the woods in search of the waterfall she’d heard on more than one occasion. With the rest of the house asleep and no one really ever paying her any mind, she simply walked through the front door, down the steps and then took off towards the trees to her left.

  It was so cold she could see her breath in front of her face. She huddled deeper into the warmth of her down coat. Other than the sound of twigs and sticks snapping under the weight of her boots only a hooting owl could be heard for the first ten or twenty minutes of her trek through the woods.

  When she finally heard the sounds of the waterfall in the distance, her feet began carrying her towards it even quicker.

  A waterfall. She could hardly imagine! The closest thing to a waterfall she’d ever seen was the fountains in the courtyards at her school. Just as she was rounding the bend almost at the foot of the incline she needed to climb, the sound of… something, or possibly someone froze her in her tracks.

  She squinted her eyes as she skimmed the top of the hill, when they landed on a boy leaned back against a tree trunk breathing heavily. His beautiful profile was taught with tension, his jaw clenched, and his eyes alternated from blinking open to being squeezed closed. He seemed to be struggling, trying to get his hands from out of his gloves in front of him.

  Elizbeth crept as silently as she possibly could until she could hear people. It sounded like they were fighting. Grunting or breathing hard, but she could clearly see the boy before her now, and she could clearly see he wasn’t shoving his gloves off, he was touching himself, rubbing himself. There. He almost looked as though he was in pain, the grunts emitting from him instantly made her tingle between her thighs. She didn’t understand that reaction. She tried to clench them together, hoping to ease some of the ache, but it only caused the seam of her blue jeans to rub firmly against something she’d never had rubbed before.

  Her chapped, swollen lips parted and she nervously licked them over and over as she slid her own hand between her legs, keeping her eyes glued to the man less than ten feet away from her. She rubbed her dampening panties against herself with as much fervor as he stroked himself between his legs. She rubbed harder when he rubbed harder, when her nipples felt so swollen they became uncomfortable, without thought she slipped her hand up under her shirt and cupped her tiny breast. Lightly at first to investigate the unexpected change in her tender breasts, then rougher. Her eyes stayed glued on him, watching tiny beads leak from the tip and leak down over his knuckles, she let her need take over as her hand slipped inside her panties and rubbed harder, so hard it almost hurt, her fingertips pinched and squeezed, pulling her nipples. First one, then the other. From her view she could see as a stream of something white jetted from his penis. She couldn’t explain her actions or her need as she rammed one finger inside her, then on the second plunge two fingers slipped easily inside. As she rocked the heel of her hand against the little bump in the front, her nails sank into her nipple.

  She curled her soaked fingers inside as she continued using her hand harder and harder watching, entranced as white fluid spurted from of the head of his dark, purplish penis.

  When the pulls turned to yanks, and the lapping waves of ecstasy swelled into tidal waves she sank under…and barely, just barely she heard the sound of her own voice shrieking through the dark cold winter night.

  Before she could get her breathing under control someone yanked her up from the wet forest ground and dragged her behind them so fast she was barely able to get her feet under her and her jeans buttoned up.

  “Wait! Please, stop. I-I-I…” She huffed and tried to hurry up her steps so he’d stop dragging her.

  He wouldn’t even look at her. Mortification and panic
struck her like lightning and it made her chest feel like a bomb full of shrapnel exploded inside the cage and her eyes welled with tears. “I said stop!” Her heels dug into the frozen earth as she tried to yank her hands from his harsh grasp. “Please!” She cried. She let the tears fall and you could see the fear on her face…if you were looking.

  But he never looked.

  She gathered as much determination as she possibly could, dug her feet until they were planted and jerked her arms back. It just so happened to be the exact same moment he decided to release her wrists in order to berate her, her hands grappled trying to grasp his sleeves, hands, arms, anything to prevent her from falling.

  She knew it was all in vain, the adrenaline coursing through her made time seem to go in slow motion and her effort to fight clumsy and useless.

  But until the back of her head connected with the huge rock she tripped on only seconds ago, it didn’t dawn on her all her efforts to fight from falling were wasted.

  That dawning lasted less than an eighth of a second before everything went completely black.

  When consciousness rejoined her she didn’t know where she was. She knew it was somewhat familiar, but couldn’t put her finger on what it was that made her surroundings familiar.

  Until she moved from the room she woke up in and made her way into the hallway.

  This was her mother’s hallway.

  How did he know where she lived? Her mind flooded with possibilities. Maybe he’s been watching her…like she watched him last night.

  Maybe this was all fate?

  Maybe he was her soul mate?

  The things she felt the night before were strange and new. They were also magical, making her feel euphoria she never knew existed.

  And maybe, just maybe, he was the one person who would notice her. Her. Elizbeth.

  “Mother, I’m serious. I’ve never seen her before. I found her screaming and couldn’t get her to speak, or at least speak anything intelligible. As soon as she wakes I’ll make sure she gets home, alright, mother?”

  The poor girl’s mind hasn’t processed a single word she heard spoken before walking into the dining room and seeing her mother and the guy from last night sitting at the dining room table.

  “Lizbeth, my dear sweet child, this is your older brother, Sebastian. Sebastian, meet your half-sister, Lizbeth.”

  My half-brother?

  Neither of them spoke for what Elizbeth thought was seventeen hours. They just stared at one another until finally their mother spoke again.

  “Lizbeth, what time is your plane leaving, child?”

  Without thought she answered, “Now. Right now, right this second, we have to go.”

  Elizbeth didn’t even pack her things or make her bed. She grabbed her suitcase, locked it and ran down the stairs and out of the house. Only after the taxi cab turned onto the street did she look back at the house. She swore to never return.

  Not with him there.

  She thought this trip would show her what the Gods or fate had in store for her and her life. She knew now though, this trip wasn’t about showing her, it was about teaching her to not believe she could have something magical, something that made her feel alive. This trip was a warning of what hope could do to you.

  Now, I want you to look at her again. Do you see that young woman there? The one whose lip is split, huddled over there in the corner. Do you see how her eyes are always cast downward? Now that you’re paying attention, can you see her?

  Very good.

  Watch… her hazel eyes flash from topaz to emerald when she glances up, quietly studying everything from behind the veil of her red ringlets.

  Such a poor child, she’s pitiful, don’t you think?

  It’s almost painful to watch as everyone around her so easily over looks her, and I can promise you it’s been this way all of her life.

  I told you she was pitiful.

  Such a shame.

  Now, ask her if she heeded that warning. The warning she was given all those years ago, and then again, time after time.

  Go ahead.

  Fucking ask me.

  Ask me if I returned the following Christmas breaks in hopes of seeing him again. Ask me if while I waited three hundred and fifty one days for those fourteen I would possibly see him again, if I didn’t finger myself every night first reliving then embellishing my memories of the night I first met my half-brother. Don’t be coy, now, don’t look so scandalized now, not after eagerly listening to every word of the story while I had you believing you were nothing but a sideliner learning the sad, pathetic life someone else lived, someone detached and unknown to you.

  No.

  I figured you wouldn’t ask.

  No one wants to ask the obvious.

  And that is why in the end, after a lifetime of losing battle after battle, in the end I will be who wins this war.

  Chapter 31

  It’s been two weeks since Heather’s accident. Two. Weeks.

  No one is any closer to finding Ivy and Dolores still absolutely refuses to speak.

  I would say I’m losing my mind, or my patience, but those aren’t what I’m running thin on. I’m losing more of my fucking humanity with every day both of my girls are gone. They make me whole, human. As long as one of them is there to ground me in the other’s absence I’m still okay. I can still function. But not without them both. I’m falling apart, I’m grasping at straws and my demons are only serving as enablers, tempting me toward the dark hole, seducing me to the dark side.

  Because when I allow the darkness to sink its nails into me and take over, I get what I want. I get it by any means necessary. And the power of having that back is extremely enticing for men like me.

  Men like me who are new to this overrated way of living life with honor, respect, and…humanity.

  You see how hard this argument is to deny? Especially given where I stand in this life?

  How many times have you heard of Satan crying? Having a broken heart, or grieving the loss of the woman he loves or his child? Have you ever heard of him breaking down because he lost someone?

  No.

  Because with your humanity comes your ability to feel pain, uncertainty, sadness, and regret.

  Feeling those four things is not worth the way it feels when Ivy looked back at me searching my face for pride when she showed me she could write her name, and they’re also not worth the look of unwavering love and devotion as my wife looks up at me while I slide into her heaven to the hilt.

  If it ever was worth it, I staunch that nick where it bleeds, cauterizing it like I should have from the very beginning of this preposterous search for me and my unattainable redemption.

  That’s what we’re all here for anyway, isn’t it?

  To watch in amusement as I fail to become the man who deserves Heather and Ivy?

  You’re here for a tragedy.

  Then let’s watch as it unfolds…

  “So, you kidnapped our sister during her investigation of you? And what? Told her you didn’t kill all those girls, she believed you somehow. Then what happened? Then she fell in love, married you, and got pregnant?” Cody’s voice is comparable to nails raking across a chalkboard.

  The migraine currently carving into the frontal lobe of my brain spots my vision, I nod, “Yes. If I had to sum it up in the manner you just did, pretty much, that’s how it happened give or take a few details.”

  “And then you just left her with Seb? Someone you trusted, one of your closest men. You left her and Ivy. Why, Rome?”

  “BECAUSE! I THOUGHT I WAS DOING THE RIGHT THING, MOTHERFUCKER!” I yell back at him. I can’t keep this charade up. I’m done. I’m ending the game and tossing my cards on the table, let them fall where they may. “I did the only thing I fucking could to keep my wife and child safe, and in the end all I did was fuck them up more and hand them over to a bastard sicker and more evil than I am. Is that what you want to hear Cody?” My voice cracks with exhaustion. I look around at Heather�
�s brothers and Andrew in my office, all faces showing equal haggard determination.

  “Calm down, Rome. Cody, back the hell off.” Bobby settles his gaze on me, “Jim, my guy in the SPD said from what he could find, the link between Dolores, Sebastian, and a woman, Elizbeth, currently living in southern Louisiana is that both Sebastian and Elizbeth, or Lizbeth, are children of Dolores fathered by different men.”

  Andrew steps forward, “Jase said he was able to track down an Elizbeth Gorman in Orleans parish. He’s headed to Baton Rouge for a meeting with his NOPD contacts of contacts. Let’s just say, he called in some favors, yeah?”

  “And when does his plane land?” I ask as I pull up all flights from SEA to any and all landings whose final destination is southern Louisiana with a passenger by the name of Jase.

  Andrew flicks his wrist before glancing down, “In New Orleans, ETA: fifty-three minutes.”

  I abruptly stand from my chair and head towards the exit, pausing at the door, I tilt my head and tell the room at my back, “Find fucking Sebastian, I don’t care how, just bring him to me. And if you get the half-sister in the process, consider yourself a motherfucking millionaire, understood?”

  Without awaiting a response I slam the door of my office behind me.

  As I make my way down the main stairway and glance to the main sitting area, I see my mother looking out the windows overlooking the back of the manor.

  It almost killed me to witness my mother’s heart break until it was shattered as Andrew filled her in on what we’d learned without giving her more than she could handle.

  Now as I look at the lost expression on her face, I know Andrew gave her more than she could handle when he informed her of her husband’s affair with the housekeeper who kept our house cleaned and helped raise her son.

  “Mom?” She jumps and looks over her shoulder, I watch as her mask falls over her confused expression and immediately my heart cracks for her.

  She smiles, “Hey, sweetie. Did you and the boys get anything figured out?”