Chapter 40
Roman
Could the morning turn into any more of a shitshow?
As if it wasn’t enough that he was sitting in the diner with what he suspected was a fucking handgun in a takeout box, his parents had decided to show their support for Elenie, despite knowing they couldn’t let on they knew her. Roman silently cursed the huge heart of his headstrong mother. The cardboard box sat openly on the tabletop; he was desperate to get it back to the station.
Only now, Frank and Athena Dax were wandering casually up to the counter and pulling out a couple of bar stools. They sat down just a few feet away and Roman knew he wouldn’t be going anywhere for a little while yet.
Elenie excused herself, her beautiful face the blank mask he most hated seeing. He clenched one hand into a fist beneath the table. Otto shot him a quick, concerned glance and he nodded.
“Get us a couple of coffees and two breakfast specials,”
Frank growled at Elenie.
She gave him a cool look.
“Money first.”
“Don’t be such a little shit.”
He leaned toward her but she stood her ground. Without betraying the slightest hint of awareness that others might be watching or listening, she regarded him steadily, eyes completely flat. It was the first time Roman had seen Elenie with any of her family.
“You’re tedious and I’m thirsty. I need coffee!”
Athena’s voice was a breathy whine.
Elenie raised one eyebrow and walked away to take another order.
“Is that—?”
Roman’s mother bumped his shoulder, nodding toward the counter.
“Frank and Athena Dax. Elenie’s mother and stepfather.”
Ava’s eyes narrowed.
Athena was jittery. She ran slim hands through her hair and fiddled with the clasp on a small green shoulder bag. Frank, leaning sideways, rested one bulky arm on the counter. He ran a casual gaze around the diner, following Elenie’s path as she piled a tray with empties and returned to unload it. With heavy brows, he pushed a couple of bills toward her. She took the money without a word, rang it up at the till and wrote up their order for the kitchen. Within minutes, she’d handed them each a steaming cup of coffee. Athena took a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of her bag.
“You can’t smoke in here,”
Elenie told her.
“Fuck off, Cinderella.”
Her mother didn’t even glance in her direction. Beside him, Ava caught her breath. Roman felt cold fury surge in his throat. Her cheeks flushed, Elenie whipped the lit cigarette from Athena’s fingers and threw it into the sink beneath the counter. She stepped back out of her mother’s reach.
“You little bitch!”
Athena’s rage went from zero to one hundred in seconds. Frank didn’t move.
“You can’t—they’re not my rules. It’s the law. If Delia doesn’t enforce it, the police chief will.”
Elenie jerked her head in his direction. Roman locked eyes with Frank Dax for a long minute. Then the older man raised his coffee cup in a mocking salute, sending a tight smile their way with a dip of his chin.
“Sergeant Starchy!”
Cigarette immediately forgotten, Athena crossed over to their table. She leaned toward him, treating his mother and father to an inappropriate view of her unfettered breasts.
“Well, if this isn’t the greatest of pleasures.”
Roman resisted the urge to place his hand on the box next to him.
“Mrs. Dax.”
Frank watched them, amusement twitching his lips. Athena sent a bright and birdlike glance around the table.
“Won’t you introduce me? I thought we were friends.”
Elenie appeared at her shoulder, embarrassment darkening her smoky eyes.
“Mom, your breakfast will be ready in a moment.”
Athena acted as if she hadn’t spoken. She held out a hand toward his father.
“And you are?”
Genetically unable to be rude, Elias shook her hand and smiled.
“Elias Martinez. And this is my wife, Ava.”
Athena straightened.
“Martinez? So you must be—”
She flicked a finger from his dad to Roman and back again.
Elenie tried again. “Mom—”
“Shut up.”
Athena held a hand up to her without even turning.
“My mother and father.”
Roman supplied the information in a flat tone.
Elenie’s mother turned icy blue eyes to his parents.
“How wonderful for you. You must be so proud. A law enforcement officer in the family, and such a handsome one, too.”
His mother held back from answering. Athena leaned toward her.
“I can only imagine that the benefits of birthing someone who can make a parking fine disappear must make the hideous experience of having children worthwhile. Am I right?”
She laughed at her own joke.
“Elenie won’t even give me my breakfast on the house.”
Roman heard Frank’s low chuckle as Delia pushed their order out through the serving hatch. Athena flicked them all an on/off smile, instantly bored, and drifted away from their table.
As Elenie passed next to him, Frank caught hold of her elbow, fingers closing tightly enough to make her wince. Roman ground his teeth. Frank pulled her closer, his mouth moving against her ear. Elenie nodded stiffly once and then again. More words were spoken. She flinched just a little and Roman ached to drag Dax to the floor and sink his fist into the older man’s face. Elenie answered him in a low voice, pale lips barely moving. Then she tried to step away from him. Frank’s grip tightened and twisted. She drew in a pained breath. An unpleasant smile hovered at the corners of his mouth.
“I say when we’re done, baby. Not you. It’s never you.”
He released his fingers and gave her a push.
When Roman’s mother laid a gentle hand on his leg, he realized it was vibrating under the table. Delia snarked something crabby through the hatch. Elenie squared her shoulders, blew out a tense breath, and got on with her work. She looked unruffled but her hands were shaking.
Roman wouldn’t have put money on his own being completely steady.
By the time Dax pushed his empty plate away, Athena had only picked at her breakfast. She played with the cigarette lighter between fidgety fingers, a nicotine addict jonesing for a smoke. They left soon afterward without another word to anyone.
Roman headed out too. He didn’t say goodbye to Elenie but at least he’d managed to slip her a new cell phone inside the used takeout bag. There were tears in his mother’s eyes when he kissed her on the cheek. His dad was frowning.
“I’m handling it, Ma,”
he promised her.
“She’ll be OK.”
And handle it he would, even if it killed him.
Back at the station, after safely removing the incriminating evidence, Roman delivered the donuts to an enthusiastic reception and beckoned Dougie to his office.
Taking a huge bite out of a glazed donut, Dougie studied the evidence bag containing the gun.
“What now?” he asked.
“I have to pass this up the chain of command for examination and tracing.”
Roman pinched the bridge of his nose.
“It looks like Dax is up to his ears in some serious shit.”
He’d shown Dougie the photos of the drugs and the gun, even though it was strictly DEA business now.
“So Dax and sons are running drugs—probably dealing, too—and one of their goon-for-hire services involves disposing of firearms.”
Dougie licked his fingers and spoke his thoughts aloud.
“I wonder if finding out what Elenie knows will give the DEA enough information to apply for a search warrant for the Dax place?”
Roman grunted, his movements contained and focused. He could feel the familiar buzz of the chase rippling through him. They were close on Frank’s heels. It only needed one trip-up from him, one twist on the path that worked in their favor, and they would have enough to pin down the fucker.
His phone buzzed on the pile of paperwork where he’d dumped it earlier. He swore at the name on the screen.
“I’ll leave you to it, Chief,”
Dougie told him cheerfully, around a last mouthful of donut, and pulled the door closed behind him.
Roman swiped to answer the call. “Yes?”
he grated.
“Charming.”
Zena’s voice was teasing in his ear.
“Anyone would think you weren’t missing me at all.”
He frowned and shook his head. What the hell was she talking about.
“Did you mean to call me? This is Roman.”
She gave a flirty little laugh.
“I’m at work, so I’ve only got a few minutes. I’m calling about next weekend.”
And just like that, he understood. Roman wondered who was listening to Zena’s end of the call. He felt his irritation building and fought the urge to hang up on her.
“Right. Your work event. When and where is it?”
His voice held all the warmth of a slushie.
“It’s at the Monarch Club, at the top of the Metropolitan Building. Saturday from seven p.m. Evening dress. I can’t wait to see you, darling.”
“I’ll check my schedule and see what I can do.”
“I’m sure you’ll be able to work something out. It’s so important for us both to find the time to get together.”
He didn’t miss the warning in her words.
“I’ll be in touch.”
Hanging up in the middle of her goodbye, Roman chucked his cell onto the desk. The exchange left him feeling grubby, complicit in something he wanted no part of. Damn Zena for adding another layer of complication where it wasn’t needed.
A night out with friends toward the end of the week was a welcome change. The Rusty Barrel was busy for a Thursday, but Milo, Cait, and Summer, arriving first, had managed to snag one of the booths. Luke finally fought his way to the bar, ordering and handing back bottles and glasses to Thea, who ferried them to the table.
By the time Roman and Dougie had closed down a busy shift, both were in desperate need of a drink. Running his hand through hair still damp from the quick shower he’d had at the station, Roman rotated stiff shoulders and hoped a beer would take the edge off.
Dougie pulled Summer in for a firm kiss.
“Needed that!”
he drawled. She curled into his side and Roman pushed down on the swirl of envy in his chest.
“Tough day?”
Thea took a seat at the end of the booth.
“Just busy.”
He shrugged.
“Trying to pull a lot together at the moment. On top of the usual.”
He was in the mood for company but not for talking. Hopefully, he wouldn’t need to offer much. There were enough people around the table who enjoyed chatting a lot more than he did.
Proving him right, Milo, Cait, and Dougie kicked off a discussion about living off-grid, fueled by a recent documentary. Dougie listed all the things he’d be unable to live without. Cable TV and takeout, mainly. A man of simple tastes.
Roman let his attention wander and took a long swallow of beer.
A chilly blast of evening air hit the back of his neck as the door of the Barrel swung open again and a small group entered the bar. It was as if he’d conjured Elenie up in person from plain wishful thinking. Craig Perry laughed with Tyson Dax, who had his arm slung around a curvy blonde. Another couple he didn’t recognize led the way and, following along behind, stopping to close the door, was Elenie, casually dressed in jeans and a thin shirt. Roman forced his face into impassivity and watched her out of the corner of his eye.
The group drifted toward the bar. Dax and Perry pushed their way to the front; Elenie hung back and looked around. She tucked a stray piece of hair behind one ear, a habit of hers he loved. He remembered how it had felt between his fingers when he held her face in his hands, the scent of her shampoo in his nose. Roman shifted in his seat. Her wary gaze zeroed in on him—and swept straight past. He allowed himself the tiniest lift of his lips. This gorgeous girl who held his heart in the palms of her hands was one tough customer.
Perry pushed away from the bar, holding a bottle of beer and nothing for Elenie. He headed for the pool table. Cheapskate. In a smooth, fluid movement, Roman unfolded himself from the booth and strolled unhurriedly to the bar. Seconds later, he knew without turning that Elenie stood next to his elbow. The desire to study every inch of her face was overwhelming. It actually hurt to ignore the pull. He kept his stance relaxed, forearms on the bar, his eyes on the bustling bar staff as they served each customer. A fractional movement to the left and his leg bumped Elenie’s hip. He kept it there, lightly pressing against her. That tiniest of touches silencing the need that burned inside him.
He caught the eye of one of the bartenders—Kai Mason, cohost of the party which had proved so memorable for Millie Westlake for all the wrong reasons. Roman didn’t hold it against him, no matter how much Kai flushed every time their paths crossed. House parties were a rite of passage. For most people it didn’t end up being one of the worst nights of their lives. He gave Kai his order and tacked on a gin and tonic for Elenie. When it appeared on the bar in front of him, he pushed it gently her way.
“It kills me not being able to talk to you or hold you when I see you.”
Roman ducked his head to murmur the words in her ear, still not looking at her as he spoke.
Elenie gave an involuntary shiver. She dipped her chin. “Same.”
He gathered up a handful of drinks and strode back to the booth. When he returned for the rest, she was already on the other side of the bar, watching Perry and Dax playing pool.
The evening passed pleasantly enough. Florence joined them just after ten, walking in with a guy he hadn’t seen before. She was happy and lit up; her date was quiet but attentive. Roman listened and assessed and decided his little sister didn’t need his input. But if she did, he’d be there for her. Right now, it was enough that he could look her in the eye without losing himself to dark memories of a squalid trap house.
And all the time, even as he enjoyed the company of his closest friends, he maintained a razor-sharp awareness of everything happening on the other side of the bar.
Tyson Dax was drinking heavily. More friends had joined them and the group was getting rowdy. Perry’s overloud belly laugh rang out repeatedly. Round after round of shots were necked, although Elenie still seemed to be sipping the drink he’d bought her. She sat quietly on a bar stool tucked into a corner until Perry decided to drag her off it to play pool. One day, Roman swore he would make the Brit pay for all the times he’d laid his hands on her so roughly. Elenie’s reluctance was obvious, but she eventually shrugged, taking the pool cue from Perry like it was a foreign object, while he pushed her toward the table.
“Every time I think that guy can’t be more of a dick, he manages it.”
Thea mirrored his gaze. Roman grunted.
Elenie missed almost every ball she aimed for. When she bent over anywhere near Perry, he either slapped her ass or grabbed her thighs.
“Fuck off, Craig.”
Roman read the words clearly on her lips and it made him smile. A second later, a sixth sense for trouble wiped the grin from his face.
Tyson Dax was squaring up to a guy built like a barn. Anyone else might have considered backing down but Dax, fueled by alcohol, was hampered by a hair-trigger temper and no sense at all. Whatever the cause of the argument, it was never going to end well.
Roman moved the second Elenie chose to step between the two of them. She was apologizing on Tyson’s behalf, her hands on his chest, when her stepbrother threw the first punch over her head. The Man-Barn lunged forward, barreling into Dax and Elenie, and the trio disappeared into a writhing heap on the floor. Glasses and beer bottles smashed. Tyson’s date screamed. Perry put his hands to his mouth and whooped, careful to keep the pool table between him and any flying fists.
Taking a double handful of sweatshirt, Roman heaved at the top body on the pile. Dougie, close behind him, grabbed the Man-Barn’s right arm moments before it landed another punch. Elenie, sandwiched in the middle, protected her head with her hands and a cold fury burned in Roman’s lungs. They dragged the larger man off her and she rolled to one side as soon as his huge weight was lifted away. With Tyson flat on his back but still swinging wildly, Roman didn’t have time to check on her.
A glance to his right told him Milo and Luke had waded in to help Dougie push the Man-Barn back up against the nearest wall. Roman dodged a blow that missed his chin but jarred his shoulder as he grappled with Tyson on the floor. He flipped Dax over onto his stomach in an attempt to subdue him. Flailing furiously, Tyson’s hand fell on the jagged neck of a broken bottle. He grabbed it, lunging backward at anything he could reach. Roman placed a none-too-gentle knee on Tyson’s back.
“Calm the fuck down!”
he grated, pinning Elenie’s stepbrother against the floor in a mess of beer and glass.
Dax bucked and swore, lost in a red mist that showed no signs of lifting. As Roman put a little more pressure on Tyson’s kidneys, he heard Dougie call the station for backup.