Chapter 15
Elenie
They swapped slices of pizza, laden with multiple toppings, until the night began to draw in and Otto flipped on the outside lights.
Elenie’s eyes were drawn again and again to Roman as he sat on the deck, leaning up against the handrail. She didn’t even know when he’d found the time to bond with her old friend to the point that they were all here, sharing food. But it felt so good to find this bolt hole for the evening, she refused to question it. She’d let it ride and pretend that these relaxed moments, eating pizza with a police chief, were ordinary rather than exceptional.
Always gorgeous in his uniform, Roman was even more appealing in casual clothes. His well-worn jeans and navy t-shirt made her mouth dry. His tousled hair lay a touch messy, brushing his collar, as if he hadn’t thought to smooth it after tugging his top over his head. It added to his charm rather than detracting from it. Her eyes snagged too often on his legs, his chest, his smile, and she had to keep dragging them away.
Otto waved yet another piece of pizza in her direction.
“Just two left and I am done. Don’t leave me any leftovers—I’m too old to find cold pizza appealing in the morning!”
Elenie laughed and took the slice from his hand. She hadn’t eaten so well in a long time; the pizza was spicy and satisfying. As long as she took small bites and left the crusts, it didn’t hurt her mouth too much. Roman leaned over to pluck the last piece from the box on the deck. He cupped a hand underneath to catch any falling debris.
“So good,”
he mumbled around a mouthful, his head resting against the wooden post at his back. Inky eyes twinkled in the dusk.
“No one makes a chicken Florentine pizza like Jerry’s. It tastes of home.”
Elenie curled up on the comfy, padded cushions of an outside wicker chair, Otto nearby on the right-hand side of a small bench, one leg crossed neatly over the other. Low music drifted out through the open back door from a radio inside the house. The men had drained a beer each while Elenie chose to pop the top of a can of Coke.
Otto’s house was small and charming. It was the perfect place to meet, tucked away at the end of a small no-through road in a quiet part of town. No danger of anyone passing by. She’d taken pains to evaluate the safety of this get-together; she had a feeling Roman had done the same.
“I don’t know about you two, but a coffee would hit the spot.”
Otto stopped Elenie from jumping up with his hand.
“You stay there. I could do with a leg stretch. I’ve sat still long enough.”
He moved stiffly to the doorway.
“Coffee for three? Or can I get you anything else?”
“I’d love a coffee, please.”
“Could I have a hot tea instead, if you have it?”
Roman lifted an eyebrow.
“With milk and sugar. I’m not much of a coffee drinker.”
“Not a problem, son.”
Dropping a blanket in Elenie’s lap as he passed, Otto disappeared inside. They could hear his slow and steady movements in the kitchen as he opened cupboards and ran water to put on the stove.
Elenie pulled the woolen softness around her legs and snuggled in. The silence felt different when it was just Roman and her in the soft light. She knew he wanted some answers and the time to avoid them was running out. Her nerves began to vibrate.
“I can hear you thinking from over here.”
Roman’s voice was low.
A tiny huff of amusement left her lips of its own accord.
“Not me. I’m a blank.”
She turned her head to find him watching her.
“You must be tuning in to someone else who isn’t in a pizza coma.”
“When are you seeing Caitlyn and Summer next?”
The innocuous question was a relief.
“We said we might meet up for coffee soon.”
Elenie was still struck with the novelty of having dates in her social diary.
“They’re nice girls.”
“Yes. Very.”
There was a brief pause.
“So, you’re a twin, huh?”
“I am.”
She heard the smile in his voice.
“In Nigeria, they think twins are special children from God.”
Roman chuckled.
“My mom might beg to differ. We were little nightmares.”
Otto brought two mugs out to the deck and asked if they minded him drinking his inside, in front of a favorite quiz show. He urged them to stay put and relax on the deck.
“My bones begin to ache if I get too chilled. My couch and the television are calling me now, but please stop a while if you’re happy to.”
The night was clear and still. Only the occasional distant engine interrupted the rhythmical clicking of cicadas in the shrubbery. Elenie wanted just a little more time before he knew all her dirty secrets.
“What was it like to be a city cop?”
Roman’s out-breath was barely audible, but she caught the way his jaw flexed.
“It was intense,”
he replied eventually.
“Antisocial hours, tough cases, hard work. I made detective, did a four-year stint in fraud and then crossed over to homicide.”
“Did you like it?”
He didn’t answer for a while.
“I enjoyed it for a long time. The work in fraud, especially. Pitting myself against a challenge and coming out on top was a buzz. But homicide is brutal. There’s always another case to replace each one you close.”
He wiped a hand across his mouth and shot her a sideways look.
“In Pine Springs, the toughest part of my day is getting a cup of tea before someone else swipes the last of the milk.”
Elenie recognized the deflection away from his work in the city and let it go.
“So, you’re happy to be back?”
“I’m not back for good. I’m on a temporary transfer.”
Roman frowned, as if he’d surprised himself with the words.
“That’s classified, actually. I haven’t told many people. Anyone.”
Elenie made a small gesture with her mug, even as her chest cracked open like a walnut.
“Who would I tell?”
I don’t want you to leave.
The words were so loud in her head, she was amazed he couldn’t hear them. She counted the brightest stars in the sky and tried to squash down a sense of loss for something she’d never had.
“Who hurt you, Elenie?”
The blunt question hung in the air. She’d expected it before, but now it caught her unprepared.
Elenie exhaled and shifted. Standing up and bringing her coffee and the blanket with her, she lowered herself onto the deck next to Roman. She perched on the wooden top step, which led down to the backyard. Blanket around her shoulders, she drew her knees up beneath it, wrapping her hands around the welcome heat of her coffee cup.
“Craig Perry saw us at the fair—we passed him by the beer stand—and he told Frank. My stepdad’s not a fan of the cops,”
she clarified, unnecessarily.
Roman’s grip was tight on the handle of his mug. When Elenie focused on his knuckles rather than his face, he seemed to make a conscious effort to relax his fingers and took a swift gulp of tea.
“Talk to me,”
he invited.
There was another period of silence.
“I don’t really know where to start,”
she admitted.
“Anywhere will do.”
Elenie stared out into the dark.
“I’ve never met my dad. My mother wasn’t sure who he was. Falling pregnant with me was a disaster for her. It ruined so many plans, apparently. Maybe if she hadn’t been drunk or high so often, she’d have noticed sooner and I would never have existed. But she missed the signs and ended up with a baby she didn’t really want. As mothers go, I guess I wouldn’t have chosen her either.”
Elenie took a sip of coffee.
“We stumbled along together when I was small. Every now and then I had a spell in foster care, but the child benefit was appealing and sometimes there was nothing else to buy cigarettes with.”
She could feel the weight of Roman’s whole attention. He had a way of studying her as if he could read every thought in her head, every expression on her face or movement of her body.
“We moved around a lot. Mainly because Mom struggled to hold down a job, so the rent didn’t get paid regularly enough to keep landlords happy for long. The partying and the drinking were endless. She loved a good time. When she met Frank, they just clicked and got married inside of a month. It was a match made in heaven.”
“What’s Frank’s story?”
“His first wife left him with the boys and disappeared.”
Elenie flicked a glance his way.
“I don’t blame her a bit. They were little shits then and they’re worse now. My mother loves the perks that come with a husband who pays the bills, stepkids who don’t want mothering, and a lifestyle on the wrong side of legal. He has a network of shady contacts, breaks some faces, delivers stuff for people, and torches a truck—”
Damn! She almost slapped herself.
“—or something else, here and there. She drinks too much, spends his money, and genuinely loves him. I think he loves her, too.” Elenie shuddered. “In any case, it seems to work well for them. They all fit together perfectly, like a crappy jigsaw puzzle of lowlife bliss.”
Roman’s voice was husky when he spoke.
“And how do you fit in?”
“I don’t. I never have.”
Elenie tried to assess his reaction to her words.
“I always knew I wanted the exact opposite of the life my mother dragged me through. That hasn’t changed. Honestly, I think she’s baffled by me. My thoughts and feelings don’t make sense to her. I’m not sure she has a moral compass.”
She traced her fingers along the wooden grooves of the deck which ran beside her leg.
“I worked hard at school. I loved learning. It was a welcome escape. And I’ve refused to get involved in any of Frank’s criminal shit over the years. It’s caused more fights than I can even remember. My plan was always to leave. I dreamed of walking away and putting down roots somewhere else. I still do.”
Roman stared at the empty mug in his hand, twisting it around and around, and she wished she could tell what he was thinking. The grubby details of her life lay dirty and shameful between them.
“Why don’t you?”
She closed her eyes.
“You must think I’m pathetic.”
“I don’t.”
Elenie doubted that.
“There are two reasons. Athena might not win any Mom of the Year awards but she’s all I have. It’s pretty scary to make that final break. I keep thinking our relationship will improve somehow and it will be worth sticking around for.”
The grunt in Roman’s throat was acknowledgment, if not agreement.
“And the other reason?”
“I don’t have any money.”
He shot her a quizzical look.
Elenie curled over her knees, wincing a little when her sore ribs twinged.
“Frank takes most of my wages for rent. I buy food with the rest, so saving the money I’d need is almost impossible.”
A muscle bunched in Roman’s cheek.
“Why do you work in the diner when you could choose to work anywhere in town?”
Elenie gave a tiny smile which lacked humor. He had no idea.
“It’s not as simple as that. I didn’t really choose Diner 43. I planned to work somewhere else. There was a wonderful, pokey bookstore on the corner of Stewart Street when we first moved here and I thought it’d be the coolest thing I could imagine to surround myself with books, all day, every day. Books are so much easier than people.”
“You’re not wrong there,”
Roman agreed.
“I remember the bookstore.”
“The French use the phrase ‘ink drinker’ instead of bookworm. Don’t you just love that?”
He gave her that dangerous, lopsided tilt of his lips which set fire alarms screaming in her ears.
“Mr. Reagan was a nice guy. Reserved but fair. He gave me a job after I left school, but Frank got involved. When Mr. Reagan wouldn’t pay my wages straight to him, Frank smashed a window in the storeroom and started a fire.”
She tugged the blanket tighter.
“That’s the sort of thing he does. All those beautiful books and a man’s livelihood—gone. I don’t think the insurance ever paid out and Chief Roberts certainly didn’t bust a gut to find out who was behind the attack. The store stayed closed, and Mr. Reagan moved out of town. I will never stop feeling guilty about that.” Elenie wiped her hands over her face. “I tried everywhere else to get a job, but being Frank Dax’s stepdaughter isn’t the reference you need to open doors in Pine Springs. I work at the diner because no one else will hire me and Delia’s so awful she can’t get any other staff. Frank leaves the diner alone because far more people would kick up a fuss if anything happened to keep them from their breakfast than they would over a little used bookstore.” She summoned a touch of flippancy. “It’s not all bad, though. Sometimes there’s spare pie.”
It didn’t feel cleansing to spill out her pathetic life story. The facts hung in the air like a layer of pollution, threatening the chances of another night like this one or more time in the company of the magnetic man beside her. Elenie’s skin felt raw, too thin, too sensitive, and not just from the bruises. It prickled with the shame of not being able to lead an ordinary life when everyone else seemed to manage it.
Roman placed his mug down on the deck, slowly and deliberately.
“Would you consider pressing charges against Frank?”
Solemn eyes searched her face.
“It’s not OK to live like this.”
She gave an involuntary shudder and looked out across Otto’s backyard.
“Things are changing,”
she said finally.
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking recently and I’m trying to decide where to go from here.”
“And Craig Perry?”
She hadn’t expected that question.
“Craig? Why do you ask?”
Roman’s voice was gruff.
“Summer told me he gave you some grief in the Barrel. How do you know him?”
“I don’t know him well. He’s been to the house, talking business with Frank, and he’s a bit of a creep. Very cocky.”
A small breeze ruffled her hair, blowing a feather-soft curl across her eyes. Roman lifted his hand. She flinched and he froze.
Stupid.
“Sorry, your hair was—”
“No, I know . . . I, uh . . .”
Elenie’s face burned with embarrassment.
The long moment of silence was leaden with unspoken words before Roman broke it. His eyes had darkened almost to black.
“You’re not on your own anymore. You have friends now. And you have choices.”
His words sounded like a promise, but Elenie wasn’t sure it was true. Her choices felt as limited as always. And Roman Martinez was not staying in Pine Springs.
She searched his face intently—what for, she didn’t know—and tucked the blanket tighter around her legs. They sat without speaking for ages, the narrow space between them as uncrossable as the Darién Gap. The hum of Otto’s television drifted out through the open doorway.
It was almost eleven when Roman said he’d better make a move.
Elenie, stiff and sore though she was, the top step imprinted on her butt, would have stayed there until morning given the choice. Soaking up the quiet comfort of Roman’s company, his heat warming her bones even without any contact.
“Can I give you a ride home?”
He reached out a hand to pull her up, his huge palm callused against her skin. The touch seared like a static current right through to her core.
Elenie shrugged off the blanket, folding it neatly to give herself something to do.
“Otto offered me his couch for the night.”
She glanced at the open back door.
“It’ll take me ten minutes to walk to work in the morning so it seemed a good idea. I brought some things with me.”
“Will anyone wonder where you are?”
Elenie lifted the less-damaged corner of her lips.
“We don’t really keep tabs on each other in my house.”
“Have you ever considered asking Otto if he’d put you up on a full-time basis?”
She shook her head before he’d even finished the sentence.
“There’s no way I’d bring him to Frank’s attention like that. Otto’s been the closest I’ve had to a friend in years. I won’t risk his safety.”
They walked into the house together.
“I’m heading home,”
Roman told Otto.
“Please don’t get up.”
The older man reached for the remote control and turned down the volume.
“I was just thinking about turning in myself.”
“Thank you for a lovely evening. Your deck is the perfect place to unwind. It was kind of you to invite us.”
Roman bent down from his great height, his strong hands gentle around the gnarly bones of Otto’s fingers.
“You’re welcome any time. And if you make a habit of bringing food too, I’ll get you a key cut.”
Otto chuckled and waved them away.
“Elenie, will you lock up after our police chief, please?”
They moved into the foyer and stopped by the front door. Roman jiggled his car keys in his pocket.
“I hope you sleep well. That looks like a comfy couch.”
“Thanks for the pizza. It was delicious.”
“Thanks for the company,”
Roman replied. He was shrouded in shadows, as if the night was his to command. Elenie thought he might say something else. She stepped a little closer so she could read his expression, her skin still sparking with that same electricity that threatened to arc and jump the short distance between them. His hand on her shoulder speared a plume of heat through her cotton shirt as he gave it a light squeeze.
A simple gesture. One that made it impossible to keep her eyes on his face.
He’s a decent man. You’re not used to them, but they do exist. Don’t overthink it.
Roman’s voice rasped.
“Sleep well. Don’t forget to flip the latch after I’ve gone.”
He pulled the door closed behind him before Elenie could speak, and she stood in the silence, listening to his truck start up, a starburst of conflicting emotions blooming in her chest.