Roman's Redemption: Roman: Book II (Roman's Trilogy) (16 page)

Heather’s eyes stay on mine as she processes my words, then her eyes flutter shut briefly before reopening, “I know. I know this is something you believe you must do, but Roman I’m afraid there are more people in this game than either of us realize. And until we know who, until we’re absolutely sure, Mace won’t go away.”

“Good. With Mace comes the absence of your feeling the pain.”

Chapter 22

Roman, Ivy, and I all wave goodbye to my brothers as they pile into their own cars and drive away. It’s so normal I almost want to cry and laugh at the same time. Cry because I don’t remember ever feeling like I’m a part of something normal, and laugh because I love the way it feels; it’s like that feeling you get in your stomach when you’re riding a rollercoaster.

I’ve been home for over a few month and I’m astounded by how much Roman has changed in my absence, as both a father and a man. I haven’t seen even a hint of the man he was before. He’s stern but patient with Ivy. He listens to my thoughts and opinions carefully and they’re considered around his decisions. As much as I hate to admit, I would honestly go through all the hell I went through again, without Mace, if it was necessary to keep Roman the man he is today, and the father he is to our daughter.

My brothers’ and Roman’s parents began coming over for lunch at our house every Sunday. I love watching Ivy in the backyard playing with her little cousins. Rick and his wife had a little boy almost a year after Ivy was born. I could contently stay swinging on the porch swing watching them play and giggle forever.

“Mouse, father and I are going to talk in my office. Keep Mother company for me?” Roman’s hands squeeze my shoulders as he kisses my temple, standing behind me.

“Of course.” I turn, heading in to the house to find my mother in law, and just as always when I see Dolores carrying Ivy upstairs, I feel Mace begin to stir in the corner of my mind as her hackles rise.

“Ms. Heather, while I was dressing Ms. Ivy this morning, I noticed how scuffed up her black patent leather shoes are, is it alright if she and I run to Baby & Co. downtown. I saw some there last weekend that would look precious on her.”

Around Mace screaming and ramming her way into my conscious I somehow maintain control, “Yes, Dolores,” I smile at Ivy who’s eyes are lit up in utter delight, “Do you want to go with Nana D, sweetheart?”

“Yes, mommy! So, so bery much!” She squeals.

I nod, “Alright, alright. But behave, and mind Nana D, am I understood, little lady?” She grins, adamantly nodding. “Dolores, let me grab some money from my purse, I’ll be just a minute.” As I go to move around her, she stops me with a hand circling my wrists.

“I’ve got it, Ms. Heather. Don’t worry about it, child, really, I love to give Ms. Ivy prizes for being such a good girl.”

Mace is literally screaming bloody murder something I can’t comprehend, clawing at the matter in my brain to the point of a migraine fracturing my eyesight as I lean in to kiss Ivy goodbye and say our ‘I love you’s’.

Thankfully as soon as Dolores and Ivy disappear out the front door, Mace stops fighting for control and slumps to the floor in the dark recesses of my mind, ebbing the migraine to a dull headache.

“You stupid fucking cunt, what have you done?”
Mace’s head lolls to the side wall of my brain and her eyes pierce mine through the curtain of her hair,
“You don’t even know what you’ve done, do you?”

Done what? What have I done?

“I’m sorry, Mace, I understand why you’re apprehensive. Really I do, but it’s time you realize I’m surrounded by my life and the people I love, who in return love me and I trust. Mace, I can’t remember the things you were so brutally forced to endure, but I thank you all the same. You were and always will be my hero. Mace, what I’m trying to tell you is, you can go. I don’t, no…I
won’t
be needing you again.”

She remains slumped against the wall, her eyes flashing from brown to hazel to gold, with bolts of lightning behind them. She doesn’t speak for the longest time.

“Mac, I am no hero, so before you start honoring me with purple hearts and titles of well decorated ranks, I need you to understand someth—“

“NO! No. Just get out of my face, go. I don’t need you anymore, Mace. GO! AWAY! Is my life perfect? No. But I accept the fact it never will be. Our perfect, imperfect chaos doesn’t weaken what I have with Roman nor does it make it any less, and it for damn sure will never lesson how much I completely love our little misfit family.”

“Heather, darling, I understand the men have delegated us both to keep the other busy while they discuss ’Payne’ family and business matters.” Vivian, Roman’s mother’s voice pulls me from my inner conflict. Her frail arm hooks in the crook of my elbow before tugging me into the parlor off to the side of the foyer. “If I may, I would like to request some tea time while we chat. From what Roman has said, you haven’t had anyone replace the role your mother’s death left…”

I halt dead center in the middle of the parlor, spin and narrow my eyes on my mother in law. Her posture goes visibly rigid and before I can process my thoughts of the accusations I read between the lines of her statement.

Vivian shuffles from one foot to the other before turning and mixing a stiff drink, and then another, sliding it across the end table. When I glance up at her I see her warm eyes smiling down at me. “My darling daughter, I know more than anyone else in this world the ache a man leaves behind, alone…with nothing but the non-approximated lacerations across our heart, and as much as I want to lie, telling you how time heals all wounds,” Her voice cracks and the tears she tries to conceal and blink away spill over her lashes. “When the Payne men find something they want, they always get it. Are they perfect? No. Are they gentlemen? They can be. Will they stray, cheat, and lie? Yes, they will. Will they love you like you’ve never been loved, hold you like their life depends on holding you? Yes.”

Vivian’s hand comes up to my face and tucks the loose strands of my hair behind my ears, “There isn’t a single thing about loving a Payne man that’s easy. It’s a passionate, raw, no holds bar kind of love that leaves you weak at the knees, and you feel the muscles attached to your bones begin to tremble. Their love is a naturally intense and possessive love. My mother compared it best on my wedding day when she said, “Viv, all I ever wanted for you was to find a man you liked, but would grow and learn to love. Now, in this moment, I’m as frightened for you as I am envious of you. I’m also proud of you. While you could have easily chosen an average husband, you went out into the world and found your something better.”

“Heather, do you understand what I’m saying?” My eyes jerk back to Roman’s mother’s.

“Yes, ma’am.” I toss back the contents of my glass before smiling at Vivian, “I can’t tell you how much this conversation helped, Mrs. Payne. Thank you, so, so very much.” I kiss her cheek. “Would you let Roman know I went to lie down for an afternoon nap, please?”

“Of course, love. Thank you for patiently listening to an old woman’s prattle.”

After I’ve changed into a silk cami and dark gray flannel lounge pants I peel back the covers of our bed before slipping between the sheets and down comforter.

I don’t know if it was today’s events and company, or a consequence of Roman keeping me awake as we continued to build one another up to catch each other as we fall, but I’m constantly tired and drained of energy.

It echoes like a dream, it feels like a dream, I’m relaxed to the point of stasis between reality and dream. However, when Mace’s voice ricochets through my subconscious mind like the ear curdling sound of an off tuned instrument making her words almost undiscernible, I regretfully hear and allow every one of her words to slam against me like a wrecking ball.

Still slouched against the barren wall, Mace’s flashing eyes study mine,
“Congratulations. You’ve finally done it. You’ll never see your daughter again. Never. As Dr. Kylie Sharp would say, how does it make you feel, knowing the world would actually be a better place if you just gave in? Just give up, accept your loss in this game of life. Kill yourself at your next opportunity.

And as the last liters turn to quarts, and quarts turn to cups, and those turn to ounces, turn to tablespoons, pray there is reincarnation. Hope, wish, and pray. We both know you’re already dead, you just haven’t stopped living yet.”

Chapter 23

“My flight leaves in two hours.” I honestly wasn’t ready for this plan to be set in motion, I mean I made sure everything was in order, made sure Lizbeth cleaned and furnished Mother’s old family sugar cane plantation, Le Angelina in Orleans Parish, Louisiana, at Mother’s insistence, of course. But I can’t help but dread leaving this hecatomb where I am able to easily free the world of the wretched dregs and filth of humankind.

After Armenia, I didn’t allow myself to remain in one country for more than a night. I can hardly remember the last few countries I visited. Prague was one, Krakow another, I think I remember being in Budapest, but I can’t be certain. Currently I’m in an underground hostel somewhere in the Ukraine, Kiev, from what I was able to translate the inn keeper saying last night.

“Child, this is your project, not mine. I’ll get che’re bebe, Ivy to the house and get her settled in, but I can’t be too much into it. You do understand, son, don’t you?”

“I’m not quite sure where else you have to be, or what else there is for you to do for your precious Roman, Mother, but I can promise you this, he isn’t going to have any need for you after his sweet Ivy is gone and his dear Heather’s mind has finally and completely fractured.” As I speak those words my fury, rage, hatred, all pulse into my blood stream.

I’ve known Mother’s demise was nearing, I’ve also known it would be by my hand, but until this moment, it’s been a burden I haven’t wanted to accept.

However, when it dawns on me Mother still favors Roman and his happiness over mine, excitement fills me at the idea of being her executioner.

“We’ll discuss this when we meet tomorrow. I only contacted you to let you know your request has been carried out, to make sure Lizbeth found Plantation Le Angelina in suitable living conditions for you, her and Ivy, as well as notify you that the wheels of your plan have been set in motion. Our plane is boarding now, I have to let you go, child. I love you. Goodbye.”

The phone clicks dead in silence and a split second later my cellphone shatters against the cement wall above the mattress where Anna’s lifeless, carved corpse remains from sometime last night or early this morning.

I haven’t tasted happiness since living with Mac those first few weeks after Ivy’s birth, and again for only a short period after bringing Mac to the ranch. Even though I allow myself to indulge in the sight of the whores’ blood and their split skin over and over, nothing suffices or quenches my thirst for this new found need of revenge. The darkness inside me only grows as my sanity slips alongside the last fragments of my happiness and contentment.

I pray when the down fall of my mother is finally executed and the younger version of Mac is at last under my roof, I will once again feel the happiness I’ve so eagerly chased for more than two years.

I’m afraid if this doesn’t work, nothing will, and that is what scares the living hell out of me—never finding true happiness again. It is something I would rather die than live without.

In only a few more days, I will finally get my sweet darlin’, Winter back.