by Ivy Fox
“What?!” I choke out, thinking I must have misheard her.
She shifts in her seat, leaning closer to the table, and grabs my hands in hers. She then tries to soothe me enough to prevent another one of my meltdowns with her next words. “The charges were dropped five hours ago. It’s my understanding that Rome’s brother Asher is at Rikers this very minute, trying to push through all the necessary paperwork to get Roman back home as early as tomorrow morning.”
“But… I don’t understand. How?”
She continues to grip my hands as her typical, no-nonsense demeanor softens at my incredulous expression, marring my every feature. She snaps her eyes back to my phone, and adds, “Thank you for bringing me this. It was brave of you to have come here again after I didn’t believe you last time. But after everything I just heard, it seems that you have been a brave woman all along, haven’t you? You fought your way against so many odds, Holland. I see that now. But your fight is over. We know Rome didn’t kill Judge Grayson, just as we know, you didn’t either.” Her statement rips the remaining air away from me. “Here,” she adds, giving me the bottle of water again. “Drink this and I’ll explain everything to you.”
True to her word, after I’ve taken a few gulps of water and regain some color back to my cheeks, she proceeds to tell me everything in detail.
“Rome’s lawyers did an excellent job of looking at every aspect of the case. They came from every angle of the investigation that, I’m ashamed to say, eluded us. One of the elements was to get a second autopsy on the deceased. In doing so, they discovered that our medical examiner was monetarily persuaded to put the cause of death as blunt force trauma to the skull. The second autopsy, however, revealed the actual cause of death to be asphyxiation.
“With that piece of the puzzle, the Coens and their PIs were able to get their hands on Liberty General’s surveillance tapes, to establish who was the last person to see Judge Grayson alive, as they would undoubtedly be their prime suspect.
“The video obtained was clearly incriminating, as a suspect is seen leaving the victim’s room, shortly before his doctor and two nurses went inside to check his vitals. It also shows the commotion in the hall, as other nurses rush in with a defibrillator, the time of death being called a few minutes later.”
Even though the detective’s cool and calming voice is trying to explain everything without agitating me, my heart continues to race like a locomotive.
“Who?” I stutter, my mother’s image already clear in my mind.
Detective Gomez’s shoulders slump, revealing how she would never have conceived that the suspect they have in custody is guilty of such a crime.
My mother has always been excellent at deceiving people. I can’t fault the detective of being duped, too.
“Who?” I repeat, ready to hear Vivienne’s name.
“Claire Hurst.” The floor is ripped from underneath me by the detective’s disclosure of the suspect. “I’m afraid it was the senator’s wife, Claire Hurst.”
“I can’t believe it,” I stutter.
“Trust me, it was a bucket of cold water on us, too. But we were able to trace the transfers, and they both—the coroner’s and the nurse’s—came from the same offshore account, which belongs to one of Mrs. Hurst’s companies. We believe that, once she became aware of her daughter’s illicit affair with the judge when she was a minor, it triggered her to retaliate. And from what I heard from your recording, I understand why.
“She didn’t seek vengeance straight away because Judge Grayson was in a coma and at death’s door. However, upon hearing—at Manning’s Christmas dinner—that he had woken up, we believe that’s when she decided to take matters into her own hands.”
“I don’t know what to say,” I mumble, honestly speechless by this chain of events.
“I understand that. It’s a lot to take in.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Do you want me to call Oliver now? I’m sure you want to be home the minute Rome is freed.” She smiles gently.
No. I’m not going home. I’m going to Rikers.
Chapter 17
Roman
I close my eyes and lean my head back, letting the rays of early dawn kiss my face. I inhale a long, deep breath, letting the sense of freedom wash over me. But it’s still not enough.
“Rome!” I hear her cry out from the other side of the street, her voice like music to my ears.
There it is. That’s what was missing—my soul.
I open my eyes and see my girl run at a mad dash toward me. I let the trash bag filled with my belongings fall to the ground and run to meet her. Snow jumps into my arms, her legs locking around my waist, and I swear I’ve never been more whole than at this very moment.
“Rome.” She hiccups with tears in her eyes, before pulling at her hair and trapping her mouth with mine.
In just one kiss, we whisper to each other all that we are feeling—joy, pain, hope, despair.
Love.
A mess of emotions tugs at our insides, bursting at the seams, while we get lost in the depth of our frantic kiss. Her sweet ginger taste is even better than I remember, so I make a solemn vow to never again rely on memories to recall how wonderful she feels in my arms.
I’ll never let her go. Not ever.
“I missed you so much, baby,” she confesses between little bites on my lips and thrusts of the tongue, her salty, wet tears mingling with our desperate kiss.
“I know, little liar. I know,” I try to console, but only accomplish getting us even more wound up in our frenzied state.
“I was so scared.”
“It’s over now. It’s all over,” I promise, soaking in her very essence to heal the scars caused by being apart for so long.
While I was confined to a six-by-eight cell with brick and solid steel bars, Snow was fighting for her life in a hospital room without me. Not being able to be at her side when she needed me most, was a punishment far crueler than whatever the justice system intended to fling my way.
The only thing that kept me sane was the letters I wrote to her and the ones she lovingly sent back through my brothers. Those, I have safely guarded in my inner pocket, treasuring them and keeping them safe as proof of our love’s resilience.
I may have been clutching to them tightly, keeping them close to my heart during all those colds nights spent in prison, while I dreamed and fantasized about the day I’d finally be able to wrap my arms around her. But now that the day has finally arrived, no dream can compare, no words can express the glory of this moment.
As my love deepens our kiss, and my fingers dig into her ass, someone behind us clears their throat, reluctantly forcing me to break away from the woman that has my soul in her very hands and my happiness swimming in her silver pools.
“If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather we get the fuck out of here,” Ash mumbles, alerting me to everyone else’s presence.
I drop Snow to her feet, handing her over to my teary-eyed sister at our side, so I can grab my rebel brother by the shoulders and hug him next.
“You did good, asshole,” I tell him proudly.
“Gee, thanks.” Ash laughs, but his hug is just as fierce and intense as my own.
When I was taken away from my home by New York’s finest last year, I honestly believed I was about to lose everything that ever meant a thing to me—my family, my woman, and my freedom.
Even though I was willing to confront my fate with an ample smile on my face, it took the faith and the fearless will of one rebellious, arrogant brother to scream at the world that he wasn’t having any of it. He fought for me every day, making sure the Coen brothers got my ass out of the slammer, no matter the cost. Ash worked day and night tirelessly, never giving up on bringing me home. For that, I’ll forever be indebted to him. In a blink of an eye, he grew into the man I always knew lived inside of him, and fuck, I couldn’t be prouder of the cocky bastard.
“Hey, what ab
out us? We’re chopped liver all of a sudden?” Elle grumbles, rolling her eyes, playing off the waterworks embedded in them.
“You did good, too, rugrat,” I praise, letting go of Ash to hug my baby sister.
Elle grips me tightly for a full two minutes and then slugs me in the ribs when she releases me, not wanting to showcase her vulnerability out in the open for any wandering eyes.
“Don’t you dare scare me like that ever again, Roman! You hear me?!” she scolds profusely, pointing her finger right in my face. I pull at it, and kiss her knuckle gently, softening her suddenly hardened exterior.
“I’ll try to be on my best behavior from now on. Promise.”
“You better. I swear, sometimes I feel like I’m the one with all the brains in this family,” she quips, pulling her finger away from my grasp with a little smirk tugging at her lip.
“And the heart, Elle. Don’t forget the heart.”
Elle turns glassy-eyed again and steps back to give Ollie his moment. She recollects her tenacious bravado so I won’t see how scared she really was for me.
Elle Grayson fears nothing and no one. She does not cower, nor does she know the meaning of defeat. So, for those very feelings to be summoned from her so viciously—feeling powerless and helpless because of circumstances out of her control—it shows how they have shaken my baby sister to her very core. Being the one responsible for Elle’s new sense of frailty, the least I can do is to give her the privacy she needs to regroup.
But as my eyes begin to fix on the brother stepping forward—the one who has kept this family from losing its shit completely. My throat tightens further with turbulent, bubbling emotions wanting to rise to the surface and leave me even more of a blubbering fool than I already am.
“Ollie.” I choke, holding out my arms for him to bridge the gap and fall into my embrace.
I place my hand at the back of his head, my lips at his ear whispering simple words of gratitude, knowing none will be able to convey or capture my undying awe and appreciation of him.
“Thank you for being their safe harbor, Ollie. For keeping our family whole. For keeping her whole,” I stutter, feeling my tears begin to blind me.
“I just did what you would have, Rome, what you’ve always done for as long as I can remember. Everything I did, I learned from you, brother,” he rasps hoarsely. “You taught Ash and me how to be good men when the odds of becoming like our father were stacked up against us. You taught Elle how to be the strong, confident, independent woman that she is today. But most of all, you gave life back to the woman we all love. You gave her reason to fight when most would yield. This family doesn’t make sense without you in it, Rome. I love you, brother.”
And with my younger brother’s words of praise and love in my ear, I break. I have spent months in jail, and none of the assholes inside got to me. Not the busted ribs, black eyes, or cut-up lips did the trick. Not the humiliation or verbal abuse, from the guards and inmates alike, weakened my resolve. Nothing got past my walls. But being here, just mere feet away from the prison’s confinement, it’s the love and devotion I receive from my siblings and the love of my life that has me bawling and coming undone.
But my tears are not born from despair or sorrow. They are just the physical manifestation of the love that a bastard like me is lucky to have in his life—unconditional and endless.
After Ollie and I finally break apart, I see a choked-up Ash discreetly wipe his own cheeks with his sleeve while Snow and Elle beam their glowing smiles, uncaring of the tear streaks marking their faces.
“Fuck! Good thing the paparazzi aren’t here, or we’d be branded a big bunch of pussies for sure,” Ash quips, trying hard to replace his tough facade. “Let’s blow this joint already. Have a nice life, fuckers! This one is coming back home with us, where he belongs,” Ash adds, using both hands to flip off the establishment behind us, which kept me imprisoned for over three months and tried to rip our family apart.
I can’t help but laugh at his theatrics as I grab Snow’s hand in mine and walk over to our town car so we can finally go home. I open the door for my girl and pause when I see my brothers and sister standing still on the sidewalk, not making a move to enter the car with us.
“We called an Uber. Thought you two might like some time alone together,” Ollie remarks with an all-knowing smile.
“You’ve always been my favorite, you know that?” I offer him my own shark-like grin.
“Hey!” Elle yells in outrage, throwing another jab at my chest, and I can’t resist kissing her temple to take the sting away.
“We’ll meet you back at the manor, but it might take a while. I have a lot of catching up to do,” I explain, my eyes smoldering at the idea of having Snow all to myself.
“Eww! TMI, Roman! Just get in the damn car already. Gaaahd!” Elle complains, but I don’t need to be told twice.
My ass is already sliding onto the back seat, giving our driver quick instructions to drive us back to Manhattan. I press the button to close the partition window, giving me some much needed time alone with the girl sitting next to me. Between the tinted windows and the partition, no one will be able to see us, but if I have anything to do with it, they’ll fucking hear us for sure.
“Come here, little liar,” I growl, my cock already hard as steel with her sexy, bare legs peeking out from under her long coat. No, wait! Is that a robe she’s wearing?
“Are you wearing pajamas?” I ask, taking a lingering, scrutinizing look at her.
“It’s a long story.” She giggles.
“You’ll tell me all about it later. First things first, I’m going to need you to jump on my lap, Snow,” I rumble, one hand already untying the knot to her robe, revealing the flimsy nightgown underneath, as the other pats my thigh repeatedly for her to get a move on. “Now, little liar!”
Her eyes become half-mast, knowing perfectly well what’s going to happen in the next few minutes. It’s not like I’m being shy with my sordid intentions.
“We shouldn’t. We should wait until we get home,” she counters, but the sassy vixen is already straddling my lap, taking the lobe of my ear into her mouth, sucking it in between her teeth, as she begins to rock her hot core over my stiffened shaft.
“One thing that I’ve learned being locked up is to never waste a minute of this life. It’s too damned fleeting and precious. We have to grab each moment as it comes, rather than postponing it for a better time or opportunity,” I growl, biting her shoulder as my fingers sink in between her parted thighs, making the heat from her pussy grind erratically on my aching cock. “And right now, all I want to do is be inside you.”
“Always so bossy,” she teases while unbuttoning my shirt as I struggle to unbuckle my trousers with one hand. “Whatever you say. Who am I to argue with the great Roman Grayson?” She laughs out before finding my mouth again with hers, showing me she’s just as desperate as I am for our union to commence.
I pull her back, grabbing her heart-shaped face with both hands and hold her there for the briefest of seconds, staring into her silvery abyss.
“You’re my heart, Snow. My motherfucking soul! That’s who you are and don’t you ever forget it,” I groan, only to go back to her mouth and bite into her lip hard enough that a trickle of blood seeps onto the tip of my tongue. And like the lust-maddened deviant that I am, I suck at it, needing to taste everything she has to offer.
Her frantic hands go to my pants, zipping me down and releasing the beast that is desperate to ruin and worship her all at the same time. I hiss out loud when her warm hand hooks itself around me, pulling me further into madness until all I see is her.
Unable to take it slow, I rip her panties at both sides, her shaven pussy ready for my fingers to feel how wet and needy she is. I lift her nightgown over her head, wanting our flesh to unite as much as our souls are begging to do so. Her beautiful, firm breasts and puckered nipples cry out for my mouth, but it’s my hard ten-inches that take the
wheel and start our lust-filled ride.
“I’m going to fuck you hard and fast, Snow. And while I do, I want this whole damned city to hear you scream out my name,” I command, stroking her glistening mound with the head of my cock, teasing her entrance to open up for me.
“I need to feel you, Rome. Just take me home, baby. Take me home,” she pleads, her whimpers doing me in and breaking any lingering restraint I might still have.
In one hard thrust, I plunge into her, both rolling our eyes to the back of our heads at how good this always feels. She clenches her pussy lips on my swollen length, strangling it in a way that has me forgetting my name.
Her eyes glaze over as she continues to torture me with her death grip. My knuckles turn white as I keep to our rhythm, guiding her as best as I can muster without coming apart. Her body rocks up and down on me, landing in loud hard thuds, the brutality only adding fuel to our unbridled passion. I know I need to exert some control, so I don’t cum into her sweet cunt so quickly, but her little wails and moans are making the feat excruciatingly impossible.
“I love how you fuck me, Rome. Almost as much as I love how you worship my body afterward.”
“Fuck,” I growl, loving the dirty words falling from my little liar’s lips.
I keep one hand on her hip and let her ride me, as my other finds her soft, creamy back, pushing her closer to me and plucking one glorious nipple into my mouth. I suck at it while she continues to drive me insane, pounding down onto me as if her life depended on it.
“It felt like I was suffocating without you. Not knowing when I could touch you, feel you,” she continues, making me lose all my control. “I love you, Rome. Don’t ever leave me again.”
“Never,” I vow, sucking at her glistening flesh.
“I need you so much. I can’t breathe without you,” she cries, as she rides me so erratically, so frantically, blinding colors begin to coat my sight.
“You have me. Fuck! You have me, little liar. I’m yours. I’m fucking yours!”
My wails are just as loud as hers as we give in to the push and pull, the need to fly over the cliff together and welcome the paradise within our reach. I thrust deep and hard into her, touching the one spot inside her walls that will push her over the edge.