ROMAN (Lane Brothers Book 5) Page 7

  “You stay away from that guy. He’s been eyeing you all morning and he looks to be wanting death, he’s that obvious about it. Stay close to old Lon till Will gets here to take care of the little snot,” he growls, throwing another scowl and unclipping his piece.

  “Er, no shooting. Company policy dictates I un-holster Bertha if a shot is fired, and I’d hate to have to pepper your old ass while you’re trying to defend me, Lon.”

  I wouldn’t shoot this man if I had a gun to my head and we both know it, so his smile is expected and welcome when he suddenly narrows his eyes and lifts his chin.

  The scream I hear comes a second later and I twist around in time to see Will smashing Fin’s face into the scarred old wood with so much force that his nose snaps before a river of blood comes rushing forth.

  “You watching her that way for a reason, asshole?” Will snarls. I feel my skin prickle with gooseflesh.

  Fin can hardly shake his head, much less speak, and I cringe away when Will pops him again and repeats the question.

  “I said, are you watching her that way for a reason, asshole?”

  “N-n-no boss, no, just…appreciating her is all. Can’t a man look?”

  It takes my brain a few seconds to process the garbled mess that bubbles forth through the blood.

  “Now see, here’s the thing. I don’t believe you, Finny boy. I think you’re watching her and thinking of all that money you took in exchange for grabbing her right here in my bar. And see again, I think that you were calculating every ounce of coke you can get up your nose with that money. That pisses me off, boy. It really does. You looking at my girl there, Finny? You see all that innocent beauty staring back at you, cringing for your pain? That woman belongs to us. She’s our princess, and what kind of brothers would we be if we let some scumbag junkie hurt her to earn drug money?”

  The way Will keeps his tone light while pushing Fin’s face into the wood and forcing him to breathe in his own blood makes my skin crawl, and yet I feel so much anger.

  Fin knows I’m pregnant. He knows I’m afraid and being watched all the time. I’ve served this man beer and food and spoken to him so much that I know his mother.

  “Now, what I’m gonna do, Fin, is give you a few new life choices.”

  Will bumps his chin toward the door and I don’t need to look back to see Jared and Jace walk in looking so furious. I know they’re here even before one of them comes up behind me and wraps an arm around me.

  “Come on, sugar. Let’s get you home before Finny boy has to decide what he wants out of life.”

  “But…but he has a mom who relies on him and—”

  “Don’t you worry none about that, darlin’. We’ll take care of Misty. You just go on home and make sure you keep my godson safe.”

  I want to cry and plead for poor Fin, but all I can manage is one last look before Jace picks me up and carries me out to the car.

  Miah stands waiting, his gun drawn, looking mean enough to scare a monster. I feel safe again, just like that.

  “You can stop hanging all over me now, Jace,” I say ten minutes later when the car’s moving and he has yet to let go of me.

  I can barely see over the seat because of the way he has me pinned beneath one of his arms. I’m pretty certain I’ll have a hunched spine by the time we get home.

  “Nope. I keep you safe till we reach home and that’s that. Christ, I lost ten years off my life when Lon called and Jared got to the driver’s seat first. The man made a thirty-minute trip in eight minutes, sweetheart. Try feeling steady after that,” Jace jokes darkly, making me laugh despite the nerves still gripping me.

  “Oh yeah? Try feeling steady after you see a man almost smash another’s face in.”

  To be fair to Will, Fin did have some really bad plans for me, so I forgive him. After all, without it I’d now be headed into God alone knows what sort of hell, leaving myself and my kid exposed to things I can’t even think about.

  My shock and horror only stem from the risks I’ve been taking, because some small part of me thought that I could force him to come back if he knew how reckless I was being.

  I can’t endanger myself or my kid anymore.

  We pull into the gates minutes later and the only home I have comes into view against a backdrop of green that calls to me in a way I’ve never known.

  For once I feel like I belong here. No matter what happens, I always will.

  “We’re home, sweetheart. Come on,” Jace murmurs, taking my hand to pull me from the car.

  Suddenly, I feel exhausted. I can barely keep my eyes open.

  “Mel!”

  Chapter Eight

  Roman

  My heart is racing by the time midnight strikes and I fall into my room, bloody and hurting so bad that it’s a wonder I managed to make it here without collapsing halfway down the hall.

  My body aches from broken ribs, courtesy of Dyson. The blood pouring from my left eye tells me I’ll be lucky to keep my sight. If I live through this.

  I woke this morning with one goal; get to Mel. I hope up instead to a fist hitting me. I spent the rest of the day being beaten while Cleo watched and asked me question after question.

  I had no answers to satisfy her, not just because I’d die before breaking, but because she’s so nuts already that she kept asking me things like what my favorite color is and how I feel about art.

  The pain never stopped but for the few times they forced me to drink water or had to revive me.

  Now I’m broken, beaten, and lost as I collapse against the wall and can’t even muster a cry of pain. I have nothing left but the taste of blood and the inability to breathe properly.

  I can’t allow myself to just lie here and give up. Not when I have so much to live for.

  When the need to live becomes more than the pain and wooziness, I allow myself to fall to the floor and start the excruciating task of dragging myself toward the bed and the hidden phone I secreted in a hole I carved out weeks ago.

  I have to stop more than once along the way before pulling arm over arm across the small expanse. I get to my destination with a wheeze and fall to my back with a grunt, dragging in large gulps of air, or trying to, at least, before a coughing fit overtakes me and I hack so hard, I taste more blood in my mouth.

  Punctured lung.

  Now I really need to move because I could be dead long before help arrives if I don’t get a move on.

  It takes forever for the phone to come on and I almost cry out loud when I drop the damn thing and it spills apart beside me. Precious minutes are spent reassembling it and then I dial the only number I know will save me.

  “Bro?”

  “Track the phone.”

  “Roman? Brother? Are you okay?” Jared yells and I hear what sounds like breaking glass and footsteps before Miah is shouting and presumably wrenching the phone from Jared.

  “Roman.”

  “Track the phone. Not much time.” Another coughing fit hits me.

  My breathing is loud and haggard, rattling as I struggle to breathe, and all I can think as I lie there and wait, listening to my brothers yelling and panicking, is that I fucked this all up because I wanted to be a hero.

  I should have asked Mel to dinner three years ago when I wanted to and said screw it all.

  “Roman. Bro, we got you. We’re on the way. You just hang tight and we’ll be there. Wyatt, get Bronx and Case. We have to move, man. Fast…. Nah, get the medical kit, I hear him coughing blood.”

  “Shit.”

  “Bro, you still there? Bro? Roman! Hang tight, just hang on, we’re moving out now.”

  I hear it all but it’s background noise as I drop the phone and close my eyes, seeing Melissa as I saw her that last night, wrapped in my sheets and laughing up at me after an intense round of lovemaking that left us both drained but sated and spent.

  If I die here, like this, at the hands of people who would not hesitate to kill many more, everything I’ve done is for naught. Every hour I
spent plotting, every lie I told my family, every minute of time I stole from Mel. It will all be nothing more than ashes on the wind.

  I must have passed out because the next thing I know, I’m being slapped and I hear Jerry hissing at me to wake the fuck up before they come for me again.

  “Roman, son, get your ass up right now or we’re both dead.”

  My left eye is swollen shut, or I hope it is, and the right is blurred when I open it to see Jerry staring down at me with fear and panic lining his old face.

  “Come on and get the hell up, boy. Your mama would skin me alive if you died here. Get up and get going.”

  “Can’t. Too…weak.”

  That gets me a shake and I shoot up with a yell when my ribs start screaming in renewed pain.

  “That woke you up, huh? Too weak my fat ass. Come on, son, come on. You need to go home to your girl. Remember Melissa, Roman? She’s waiting for you, boy, and from what I hear on the grapevine, so is your kid.”

  His words give me some superhuman strength I never knew existed and I get up as best I can with his help, gritting my teeth to stifle my cries when my leg tries to buckle and I feel a distinctive grinding where bone meets bone.

  “Yup, sonny, that right one looks to be broken clean through. Ignore it and work through it. Pain is better than no pain at all, I’m thinking,” he mutters as I hobble beside him.

  The corridor outside the rooms is dark and I ignore everything I feel to scan the space for movement. I am a soldier, a well-trained machine, and I’ve been through worse with a lot less to live for. I can do this and get back where I belong.

  “Someone’s coming.”

  Jerry almost drops me when he starts shaking. I hear him whimper and stand on my screaming leg to hold my hand out for the gun he’s gripping.

  “Get in the corner and do not move till I come for you.”

  He swallows and nods, laying his Glock in my hand before scuttling away and leaving me to do what I do best. The first guy who rounds the corner and fails to see me where I’m backed against the walls gets his windpipe shattered and I take a few precious seconds to listen for movement before waving Jerry back.

  “Miah and the boys are on the way. All—”

  My breath wheezes again and I double over when blood crawls up my throat. I do my best not to start coughing again and give us away.

  When it passes, I have spots dancing before my eyes but I suck that shit up like I have to and refocus on the terrified old man before me. He’s saved my life more times than I can ever repay him for, and I will not let him die here because I have few boo-boos.

  “They’re coming. All we have to do is stay alive till they get here.”

  Jerry swallows and nods before grabbing my arm over his shoulder again and taking some of my weight on his smaller frame.

  “Come on, kid, we can beat these bastards.”

  We start walking again as I feel myself weakening. I have the will to stay strong, but my body is done and I know it when we reach the upper level and my legs just give out and dump me to the floor.

  “Roman—”

  “Can’t…breathe…go. Tell…love her.”

  “No! You get your ass up, kid. Get up and tell that little beauty yourself. We’re almost out, Roman. So close,” Jerry hisses.

  “Aw, but not close enough, unfortunately,” I hear.

  Jerry gasps and I see a fist connect with his jaw before he falls to the floor beside me and Dyson walks closer with a menacing smile.

  “What’s the matter, Roman? Did I do my job a little too well for you? Maybe I should ask that woman of yours if she knows what a weakling you are, huh? Wouldn’t you like that, Lane? To know that when you take your last breath here, I’ll be going after your girl and that kid next?”

  “Fuck—”

  “No, Roman, fuck you. I trusted you. I vouched for you when Cleo wanted to just kill you, and I put my own position on the line because I thought you were on the level. She’s going to kill me next if I let you escape and I can’t have that, not before I find her,” Dyson growls, grabbing my shirt and pulling me up with a snarl.

  My body is unresponsive and I’m surprised he has the strength to hold up my dead weight when all that keeps me from falling again is the grip he has on my shirt.

  “I don’t want to do this. Christ, I can’t fucking do this!” he finally says after several minutes spent staring at me. He drops me to the floor with a curse.

  “I never wanted any of this. The things I’ve done…I did them because I need to get her back. She’s everything to me and…”

  He stops talking and whips around when I hear what sounds like a truck before a huge vehicle the size of a tank comes screaming straight through one of the walls of the old warehouse.

  Gunfire erupts and I see Dyson flinch and scowl and then he’s running for the opposite wall, yelling out orders to the men who come bursting out and into the action.

  As gunfights go, this one lasts no more than five minutes, and when the smoke clears from my vision it’s to see Miah leaning over me, his eyes moist and tortured when he sees what’s left of me.

  “I’ll kill them all. Wyatt, get over here with the stretcher. Lon, do that magic you do. He’s coughing blood and his lung sounds collapsed. Christ, Jace come and get Jerry, would ya?”

  “Miah,” I croak. He leans closer as a sharp pain pierces my rib and the pressure miraculously releases, allowing me to draw a decent breath again.

  “Tell her…she…always first…”

  “You tell her.”

  That’s all I hear before the lights blink out and the pain falls away sharply.

  ***

  Melissa

  The first thing I hear upon waking is the sound of hushed voices and Judith crying quietly from her perch beside me on the bed. I keep my eyes closed for as long as I can, just enjoying the warmth of her hip against mine and the way she keeps kissing my hand.

  I feel rested, for once, and the feeling is so peaceful that I don’t want to let it go and open my eyes. If I do I’ll be back to where everything is so messed up.

  “Come on now, honey pie, open those precious eyes and let Mama breathe again, sugar,” Judith whispers, stroking my cheek softly and with a tender love that makes me push closer to her touch.

  “Judith?”

  My eyes open slowly and she’s crying silent tears and smiling.

  “Oh pooh, Mel dear, I told you to call me Mama. Now open those precious eyes and let me look at you. Oh, sweetheart, I am so glad you’re okay.”

  My hands go to my belly in a panic when I remember falling before sweet darkness enveloped me.

  “Oh, honey, no, don’t cry. He’s okay. The doctor said you were just too exhausted and the added shock from that vile man…it was too much. He gave you a sedative so you could get some rest, and we’re to keep you hydrated and rested for a little while, but you’re both just fine.”

  The relief I feel brings tears to my eyes and it takes a lot of effort to wrestle them back.

  “I think I’m ready to let go now, Mama,” I whisper, feeling heavy and light all at once.

  The sadness I feel at this decision is immense, but I feel better knowing that I’m not letting my vulnerability cloud my judgement anymore.

  I will always love Roman, but I’m done feeling this fear and anxiety because the man I love wants glory and accolades instead of the love I have to offer.

  Judith looks at me askance and I see the exact moment she realizes my meaning because her shoulders slump and she takes a deep, sad breath.

  “Honey, I love you. No matter what happens with you and my son, you need to know that I will always be here for you. That’s all I have to say. Now come on and sit up, sweetheart. You need to eat something and I made your favorite oatmeal.”

  I hate oatmeal because Daddy used to make the stuff seven days a week till I hit thirteen and learned to cook in self-defence and the need to live.

  I don’t have the heart to tell her, though, so I
sit up and eat every gooey bite with a smile as she sits beside me and watches me like a hawk. When I’m done and manage to keep it all down as well as a cool glass of watered-down orange juice, I see her smile fade.

  Mama is always so bubbly and giddy about the smallest of things, and where once it irritated my darker side, I’m worried when her smile drops so quickly.

  “I have some news, honey, and I don’t want you to get upset, so I’ll tell you right off that it’s not all bad, okay?”

  Please, oh please let everyone be okay, I plead to the heavens, knowing that another death so soon after seeing Daddy’s office and hearing what happened to him will break me.

  “Now you know…shit, why do I always have to be the one who gives news? I swear George always leaves this stuff to me.” She sighs before taking another breath and facing me, her hand squeezing mine. “Yesterday morning they…started beating Roman. Don’t start crying, I told you it wasn’t all bad. They hurt him badly, and he’s not in the best of shape, but the boys got him to the hospital on time and the surgeons managed to repair the puncture in his left lung.”

  “He…he’s okay, though?” I croak through the bile racing up my throat.

  “Yes. He’s got a few broken bones and he’s in a lot of pain at the moment, but the doctors have agreed to let him come home if we hire a doctor and full-time nurse till he’s at least able to sit up by himself.”

  The news is hard to take. I’m horrified that he’s so injured he can’t sit up without aid, but I am relieved that he’s alive and finally free of the monumental task he undertook.

  “Does that mean it’s all over now, Mama? Did he finish this?”

  “Oh honey.”

  Her sigh answers for her, and suddenly I feel regret. For him, for that damnable code he seems to live by, and mostly for the fact that I know it will plague him to know he never completed his mission.

  “He…”

  “He called Miah last night and gave up the location when he realized he would die if he didn’t get out,” she says after a moment spent in silence.

  “Dammit, he’s so Goddamned stubborn,” I hiss, sitting up with a curse. “I told him this would happen and I begged him to get out. I begged him! And he still chose his damned honor over me.”