Roman: Book 1 (24 page)

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.

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.

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!