ROMAN (Lane Brothers Book 5)

  ROMAN

  Lane Brothers, Book 5

  KRISTINA WEAVER

  Copyright © 2016

  All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters appearing in this work are products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to events, businesses, companies, institutions, and real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Epilogue

  BONUS BOOKS

  RED LOVE

  TROUBLE

  MINE

  ONE WEEK

  UNSCRIPTED

  Chapter One

  Melissa

  I feel like my heart’s about to beat through my ribs, and thanks to the baby inside me attempting to empty my stomach, I’m fighting the need to puke.

  The fear is overpowering, because this time I am totally alone. There’s no Daddy to help me and no Roman to stand in front of me and protect me from the big bad world.

  In this closet I am unprotected, and what’s worse is that I have more than me to protect now. I have this little baby who is growing inside me, and doesn’t know that Mommy’s made too many mistakes to count and Daddy is…I don’t even know what Roman is anymore.

  I’ve lost faith in the man I love. He’s gone—the Roman I was so determined to help. Gone is the man who’d laugh and joke with me while we plotted the downfall of the Patriots. I haven’t heard from in weeks.

  The Roman I know, the man who spirited me away and swore to protect me, is so deep in the organization that I sometimes wonder if looking for him is a good idea.

  What would I find if I got to him? Would he still be the man who was so intent on dismantling the extremist group and making our world, our country, a safer place, or would he be just as corrupt as those women who started all this?

  The truth is that I saw a very startling change in him for days before he left me, and I’m only now admitting it to myself. I have the overwhelming need to see him and confess everything about my feelings and our baby, but I am terrified of the outcome.

  What if he isn’t happy about Little Ro? What if I find him and he admits that he’s joined the extremists?

  For all I know, it’s one of his cronies standing outside this door about to turn the doorknob and discover me hiding here like some weak, mewling little pissant.

  I knew I should have called Uncle Dob, dammit!

  I’m on the verge of regurgitating this afternoon’s lunch of dry toast and weak tea by the time the door slowly swings open and I react the only way I can, the way Daddy taught me to.

  I yell at the top of my lungs and swing for all I’m worth, connecting with flesh and bone a second before my foot flies up and hits a man’s crotch with enough force to maim him for life.

  The bellow and wheezing sounds I hear before my target drops to the floor and curls into the fetal position is the most satisfaction I’ve had in a while, and I spring to action with a grin that is short lived when I run face-first into a muscular chest and arms that feel like steel bands wrapping around me.

  “Jesus, Miah, you didn’t see that coming, bro?”

  Miah?

  I look up quickly, swallowing the bile that’s risen to my throat when I see a pair of twinkling blue eyes looking down at me with what I think is respect and a small amount of amusement.

  Jared Lane, dammit. I had to go and run right into the arms of one of the scariest men I’ve ever met.

  “Heya, dollface.”

  He’s pretty amused as Miah, his twin brother, rolls to his feet with a groan. I can’t help but stare slack jawed when Jared bursts out laughing at his brother’s curses and throws me a wink before releasing me and holding me at arm’s length for a thorough inspection.

  “She’s quick, I’ll give her that,” Miah grumbles and I turn just in time to see his lips twitch before he narrows his eyes on me and tilts his head. “Melissa—”

  I already know exactly what he’s thinking, and I feel my gorge rise again as scenes of Daddy’s office start flashing through my mind in a plethora of gruesome images that only serve to heighten the grief I’m feeling.

  With all that’s going on right now, I can’t blame myself for wanting to just forget, and yet it shames me to think that I’ve been worried about myself and nothing else for weeks while my father was brought to this point.

  He’s dead, I know he is, and I will never see his ruddy face smiling at me or get to witness his tears when I bring my child into this world.

  My father may not have been anyone’s idea of a hero, but he was mine and it hurts so much to know that I will never see him again.

  “I saw the office, Jeremiah.”

  It’s all I can choke out before pressing my lips together and stepping back to get them both in my line of sight.

  Miah looks about ready to start cursing again and Jared, for all his scariness, just plants a hand on my shoulder and squeezes, trying to offer a comfort I need but can’t allow myself to want.

  “Tell me what happened. Please.”

  This is not a good idea and I know it. Knowing how he died is not going to solve a thing right now, but I have a list of all those who have ever wronged me, and after what I just saw, I’m going to be adding someone to the top of that sucker before the day is out.

  Jared looks green but nods once and starts pulling me towards the kitchen where he shoves me into a seat before starting to pace like he’s training for a marathon.

  “We found him just under two weeks ago. He was murdered, Mel, though we’ve kept that out of the reports thus far because we don’t want to create a panic while the investigation is still going.”

  Movement catches my eye and I turn to see Miah Lane shaking his head with a weary sigh.

  “We’re so sorry.”

  “Yeah? Really? Not too long ago you were one of the biggest naysayers against my father.”

  So what if I’m being unfair right now? I think I’m allowed a tantrum or two thanks to what has happened. Not only did I lose my one and only remaining parent, but I’m about as far from getting anywhere near Roman as possible now that the Lanes have found me.

  They won’t allow me to go looking, and I’m pretty sure from the looks they keep exchanging that my chances of getting out of here without one of them on my ass will be impossible.

  “Mel—”

  “Don’t you ‘Mel’ me, Jeremiah Lane. I’m not stupid and I know exactly what went on with you and Dad before your brother got his knickers in a twist and decided to hide me in the freaking boonies. You hated—”

  “Yes. We hated each other and that’s no secret! But that doesn’t mean I’m okay with what went down here and you should know that, Melissa. We may not be friends or anything, but you know my family and you know we are not okay with this shit. Chief Dobson wasn’t a great man, but he didn’t deserve this from his compatriots,” Miah grits out and I feel myself deflate once again beneath his hard-eyed stare.

  No matter how much I want to dislike these men, I just can’t. I can’t blame them for the stron
g feelings that Miah and the rest of the Lanes surely have for Daddy. It just is what it is and I know that no explanation will change their views.

  Like Daddy told me months ago, just because he was being forced to make the decisions he was making, it did not make them right. Despite all the reasons I loved him, my father was still involved in a terrorist organization that’s bent on harming innocent people to prove a point; namely that racial and cultural differences are destroying the American way.

  Or some such shit. I’m not really that caring about the whole situation. I just know that any animal who’s willing to kill just because they hate others, or to profit from it, is no one I want to know.

  Unless I’m putting a bullet in them myself.

  It kills me that Daddy was forced to live with this for so long. Knowing that Roman is in a worse situation, I’m about ready to slide right out of my skin with nerves.

  “Look, I don’t want to argue right now, okay? I just found out my dad is dead and I haven’t heard anything else for so long that I’m starting to think something really bad has happened to that fool brother of yours.”

  The way Miah stiffens has alarm bells going off in my head, and I’m about ready to start screaming before Jared goes down on his haunches beside me and takes my hand in his.

  He and Miah look so much like my Roman that it hurts just to look at the man, especially when his austere face softens as he looks down at me.

  “Sweetheart, Roman is just fine, or as fine as he can be while swimming around in that tank of rabid sharks. We have been looking for you, though, because we know Roman would want the family to protect you.”

  “What? No, no I really do not need protection right now. What I need is for him to come home.”

  “I know, honey. I know. It’s just that with everything that’s happening around us, we really can’t afford for one of our women to be exposed the way you are.”

  I feel my skin crawl at the looks they keep exchanging.

  The trouble I have with most men is that they tend to look at my small frame and think that I need protecting in case my delicate state overwhelms me.

  Now I’m not saying I’m not scared of what’s happening, but I’m the daughter of a cop. I know how to shoot, disarm a man in hand-to-hand combat, and I sure don’t need some big strong man to protect me from the truth.

  That’s what brought me and Roman together; the man is not a coddler and wouldn’t dream of stepping on my independent toes for anything in the world. In fact, he’s so liberal that he cooks more than I do. And is certainly better at it.

  “I am not a Lane woman and you all know it. Roman and I had a shaky fling, if that.”

  “Oh come on, now. We know better, sugar, so don’t even try and convince us otherwise. If you were nothing more than a way into the Patriots’ organization and a fleeting piece of tail, he’d have split and left you for your daddy to take care of. Nah, I know my brother and I know that he wouldn’t have put in the effort to keep you out of harm’s way if it were just a fling.”

  Really? I know that I can’t expect nightly phone calls and declarations of love, but the man hasn’t done a single damn thing to reach out to me since he left.

  “My point is that I am not your problem and I don’t want to be. I have my own shit going on, and I don’t need or want you Lanes getting involved.”

  I see Jared rise from the corner of my eye and struggle not to break the staring contest that Miah and I have going on.

  Jared intimidates me a little. No matter how kind he’s been trying to be to me, I can’t forget that of all the Lane brothers, Roman always warned me to tread lightly with this one. He seems to think that Jared isn’t as stable as he may appear, which makes me laugh now considering he looks intense enough to rip heads off…on a good day.

  But I’m not scared—not that much. I’m just being cautious when I slowly slide to my feet and eye the door, calculating my chances of actually making it to the car before one of these behemoths catch me.

  “I wouldn’t. Jared runs faster than you assume, and the man has a hair-trigger temper,” Miah warns, killing my hopes. “Now sit back down so we can talk.”

  I obey. Even though I want to run like hell and scurry back to my little hidden hole and lick my wounds, I know he’s right. Roman warned me not to underestimate these men, and I think I may have when I assumed that coming here would go unnoticed.

  “What’s to talk about? I just found out my father was murdered and the man I…had a quickie relationship with is a man who is nowhere to be found.”

  That makes them both frown, and I see Miah shake his head before turning back to me with a smile so soft, I feel my heart kick up and start racing.

  He looks so much like Roman that I have this howling urge to trust him and just do whatever he asks me to—just the way I did whenever Roman got that silver tongue of his out.

  But I don’t trust anyone right now. At least I know I shouldn’t when he opens his mouth and says something I don’t want to hear.

  “Honey, we saw you puking your guts up in that office, and I saw the crackers and ginger ale on your front seat. I think it’s about time for you to stop playing tough and just accept that you can’t do this on your own anymore. Your dad…he’s gone, and Roman could be too if we don’t move quickly. You can’t afford to be in the wind with some of the stuff that’s going down right now, and we won’t let you even if you don’t agree. Your baby is more important than pride or independence and you know it.”

  “Jeremiah, I can’t…”

  I can’t be surrounded by his family with the knowledge that the man they trust and love, the man I love and once trusted, could be a traitor to his loved one, as well as his country.

  Just thinking about the possibility hurts and makes that sick feeling in the pit of my stomach start churning anew.

  “Dollface, Ma has been worried sick about you, Trace is about ready to start climbing the walls and come get you herself, and if I have to listen to Clari rant and rave in her pregnant state about how we’re not doing our duty by you…just come home with us, alright?” Miah says, letting out an aggrieved sigh that makes me think about what these men were like as impressionable little boys.

  I can’t say no. They’d take me anyway. Instead of arguing, I nod and accept things as they are.

  For now.

  When I’m able to think past the worry and the sadness, I’ll figure out a plan and split like Roman told me to.

  Dammit. Roman, you have a lot to make up for here, I think as I rise from the cruddy kitchen table and follow the two men out the door.

  Chapter Two

  Melissa

  I am literally in hell. The worst part of it all is that it’s one of those nice hells that are so sweet, I keep running my tongue over my teeth to check for rot.

  I mean, how is it possible for a family to be this nice, loving, and supportive without wanting to kill each other? Roman warned me that his people are like the opposite of the Dobson clan, but come on!

  Here I am trapped at the Lane residence and the whole clan won’t leave me alone. Make one baby with a dick that they consider theirs and apparently you’re in for life.

  And by that I mean Judith Lane has already attempted to drag me up to a closet for “fittings” and keeps trying to scope out my finger for some odd reason.

  And not the one I’m dying to flip them all after I learned that I am locked inside this enormous family estate…

  Of course, there’s also baby talk and plans for a nursery that I have no intention of using. Don’t get me wrong, they’re all great, I guess, but I’m more of the biker chick who works in a bar and rents her house like normal people do.

  I like gruff, snarky, loud people who are as interested in me as I am in them.

  I cannot deal with the niceness for too long without longing for the days when my dad would grunt at me over dinner and scream at me to pass the remote.

  For God’s sake, Clari keeps trying to hug me and she’s
cried three times since I arrived…an hour ago. Miah seems indulgent and harried. Jared looks at his wife as if the poor woman’s being holds all the secrets to life.

  And the other two are so gaga for their girls it makes me sick.

  Well, not sick exactly…

  Okay, so I’m jealous and resentful that they’re together while the guy I love is prancing around like Mr. Freaking Double Agent. Or something.

  At least I hope he’s, like, infiltrating and not getting settled in, because if the latter is true, his balls are in danger of becoming ground beef.

  “So, Mel, honey, tell Mama what’s going on with your morning sickness,” Judith trills, smiling so widely that it’s a physical struggle for me not to attack her and remind her what this shit is like.

  Does she seriously not remember waking up so fast, you’re falling head-first into the toilet bowl before your eyes open? And what’s up with the way this Clari chick is smiling when she looks greener than a pea?

  “Er, it sucks bal—I mean, it sucks a lot, ma’am.”

  “Oh pooh, call me Mama! Now you remember to take your vitamins after your breakfast and never drink ginger ale warmer than chilled and you’ll be just fine. Oh!” she squeals so loudly that I actually jump out of my skin for a second before the tears and hand clapping start. “I can’t believe this. George, we’re going to have more grandbabies! Can you just imagine it, honey?”

  George, or Pop, as he keeps insisting I call him, just smiles indulgently and goes back to his paper when his wife keeps chattering about onesies and matching nurseries.

  I’m scoping out the Lane men as they all four recline beside their women, looking uneasy.

  I know what their mood is about because I’m the reason for it. They are watching me as if I’m about to pull a runner at any moment.

  And I am. I so am. The first minute I find myself unsupervised—if that ever happens—I’ll be gone. I just need a plan. Right now my only objective is to get in touch with Roman—something that’s been near impossible since he stopped calling the burner phone he got me.