Roman: Book 1 (3 page)

Once I’m in the backseat and buckled up my daddy glances over the front seat, “You find yourself a new friend, pumpkin?”

My face flushes and I smile bigger than ever. “I did. He was nice. A little odd, but nice.”

“Well that’s good, sweetheart.” Daddy turns up the radio and the words of my favorite song ‘Against All Odds’ by Phil Collins spills into the car.

When I look back to get one more peek at Rome before we pull out of the parking lot the smile on my face falls and my hand covers my mouth as I witness the most terrible sight in all my life.

“Daddy, we have to go back, my friend, those boys—“ The biggest of the boys pulls Rome off a skinny kid and throws him to the ground before slamming his foot into Rome’s face and he goes completely still as the other kids surround him, repeatedly kicking him in the back, stomach, head, everywhere, over and over. “Daddy! Please! They’re hitting him! Hard. We have to go help him!”

Tears stream down my face and my vision blurs as daddy turns onto the main road.

“It’s just boys being boys, Mac. Why are you so upset? Hell you broke Rick’s nose last week with an upper cut he said you couldn’t land, yesterday you kicked Bobby in the nuts so hard I had to take the poor boy to the ER.”

My daddy’s laughter mixes with the songs melody as I stare out the back window replaying the scene over and over in my head. All I can muster as a reply is whispered and broken, “Daddy, they weren’t playing like that.”

He didn’t turn around that day.

I wished on every first star and prayed before bedtime every night that one day I would see Rome again and make sure he was okay.

But I never saw him again.

     1995

It is the middle of finals for this term and my last year at University. My Bachelors in Science of Psychology, a choice I made for the challenge I believed would accomplish in assisting me in the long run
is
within reach and only months away.

The cable ties tighten around Amanda’s neck as she continues to struggle. The sight of her eyes bulging and her lips turning blue drives me to ram my cock into her harder and faster. As my cum floods her tight pussy, an epiphany slams its way into my mind. I see clearer than I’ve ever seen before. My eyes dart to the University forms on my computer desk, all of which are begging me to begin my residency with their organization.

Snatching the paring knife from beside the bed, I slip it beneath the zip ties, snipping the plastic away from Amanda's throat. I rush towards the forms on my desk and hear her body thud against the floor as her gasping breaths echo against the walls of my dorm.

“Wha— Roman, what was… Roman?!” Her voice is clearly distorted and as raspy as a veteran two pack a day smoker.

“Speak my name again, and it will be the last name to fall from your lips.” I bark out over my shoulder while flipping through the forms in order to find the top OBGYN turnout in residency.

“Women.” I mutter to myself still reeling from my revelation. “Of course. It would always boil down to women.”

When her words rudely disagree with mine
,
it takes every fiber of my being not to finish what I started using the cable ties for. “Women? No, it doesn’t fucking boil down to women!” She stands shouting. In my peripheral I watch her slide her lithe body into a dark gray dress before stepping into her heels. “Roma—, sorry, what is it? What’s wrong, what did I do wrong?”

“Amanda, it isn’t what you did wrong, love, your perfect little masochistic self has shown me the direction my life should take.” I sigh turning towards her before finishing, “And now, you leave.” With a sardonic smile across my face I nod towards the dorm door.

Her eyes well with tears as she smiles sadly and walks to the door. Her voice cracking as she speaks, “Please remember I love you. Bye.”

After she closes the door quietly behind her, my eyes fall to the form and in my perfect calligraphy penmanship I fill out the necessary information. Once the form is filled out I place it inside the envelope and stick stamp on it before making my way to the campus office.

On my way back to the dorm, my eye is caught by a frenzy of crying girls and men who look as though they’ve seen a ghost. Police cars and ambulances are surrounding the students and dorms. An acquaintance of mine, Brad, comes running up to me shaking his head, “Man! You know that girl you’ve been banging, Amanda? She just took a swan dive off the top of the girl’s dorms! The police found a letter grasped in her hand but they won’t say what’s in it!”

My eyes follow the direction his hand is motioning towards and land on the resulting chaos ensuing on the campus. “Did anyone see the letter before the authorities got here?” I calmly ask.

I notice a girl pointing an officer in my direction before looking back at Brad waiting for him to answer. “No, not that I know of. Campus security was the one who found her.”

The officer walks up to me with a pad and pen in his hand before asking, “You Mr. Roman Payne?”

My steady hand extends towards him and after he shuffles his pen and paper to his left hand his extends as well, “I am.”

“I’m detective Heath Mackenzie.” His damp paw moves slowly up and down in a pathetic excuse of a handshake. “Did you know Amanda Robbin
s
?” He asks, tightening his grip and narrowing his eyes on mine.

“I did.” I respond respectfully without losing eye or hand contact.

“A letter was found on Ms. Robbins person insinuating she’d unleashed beasts or demons she had seen flashing behind Roman Payne’s eyes and for that she was truly sorry and unable to continue living. My question for you is,” His face is in mine putting us almost nose to nose before he finishes, “Have you demons and beasts inside, Mr. Payne?”

A smirk curls my lip up as I narrow my eyes on his and grip the tops of his arms as hard as I can without leaving a mark, “Of course I do, officer. We all have demons. Any further questions you may have, I’ll not answer without my attorney’s present.”

As I turn to walk away the officer’s voice causes me to hesitate slightly but I continue stalking towards my dorm building, “Do not plan any vacations, and if you have any plans that will put you outside city limits, I suggest you cancel them. You will see me again, Mr. Payne and I will get answers as to why Ms. Robbin
s
would rather end her life than transfer schools or move back home.”

“Good day, officer.” I call out over my shoulder.

“If you only know one thing about me, know this, I love nothing more than solving puzzles, and this one, this puzzle is one I will solve.”

The dorm doors slam closed silencing his verbal assault. I hit the elevator button to my floor muttering, “This is not a puzzle it’s a chess game; it’s my life and there is no way in hell you’re going to know what hit you when I say, ‘Check. Mate.’”

2005

Nearing the end of my residency at Washington University the sleep deprivation and stress was increasing the number of careless mistakes at a rate even I couldn't turn a blind eye to. I feel myself spiraling out of control without a solution to help suppress my need for violence during sex and for the first time in my life I feel fear. My fear stems from my inability to be concerned whether or not I’m caught.

How can one fear not having fear though?

This plight is what keeps me up at night, invading my dreams; it is also responsible for my carelessness during the day.

“Hey, is it just you at this table?” A soft female voice pulls me from my puzzling thoughts.

The essence of beauty stands before me. The sun shines through her long blond hair creating a halo around her, her dark brown eyes sparkle as they look into mine, and her pouty lips smile as she furrows her brows and asks, “Is that a yes? A no? A get the hell out of here Heather, or what?” Her laughter provokes my chest to constrict lodging the words in my throat.

I cough to cover my hesitation and leap from my chair, shoving books into my satchel as I spit out, “No, it was just me at this table. Then you rudely interrupted so, now it is you at this table. Learn to respect the rules of the library. I believe there is one universally known as quiet.”

I spin on my heel and storm from the library to my car. Only after I am si
t
ting in my leather chair behind my massive oak desk with books and patient files and Bach playing in the background do I feel myself calm down and breathe.

“Heather.” I mutter as she floats through my memory, her soft perfume, her dark, dark eyes. I shake my head and rub my hands down my face to erase her image from my mind. Only when she is nothing more than a residual fog am I able to return to studying for my midterms.

I would never openly admit this to another living soul, however since you’re here to read my story I am willing to share with you how incredibly amusing I find my destiny, the profession I was born to not only procure but master and specialize in, is so at odds with my extra curricular activities.

Activities which are becoming more heinous with each encounter.

Soon I will be assisting women not only in procreating, but carrying their procreations to full term. I will be using their sexual organs to bring about my own professional success: Bringing about life.

I am life in its simplest form.

I taketh lives away yet I strive to giveth life. The pull and the push, yin and yang, light and dark, life…and death.

I am Roman William Payne.

                                                       2005

My hands hit the glass doors of the conference room as my shoulders tense to shove them open before walking into the meeting already in progress. After I set my files on the long rectangle table my hands slide under my bottom to straighten my skirt before sitting down and crossing my legs.

Once my files are open on I glance up at the men in the room and find the Detective Sergeant narrowing his eyes as he looks at me, “Well? Mac, how did your first day of classes go? From what I heard, you dropped the ball. You told me I could trust you. Your father was my partner for over twenty years, God rest his soul and he is the
ONLY
reason I gave you a shot at this. Now tell me why I should keep you on this case?”

Seriously?

“Seriously? I dropped the ball? What ball? It was my first contact with the perp. It isn’t my fault the guy flipped his shit because I asked him a question. If you are going to give this to me, then give it to me, but if you’re going to question me and call me out over every little thing, I’d rather be working the street.” I snatch up my file and begin to stand only to be stopped by his hands slamming on the table.