Claiming Roman

by Trevion Burns

  “Brother,” Angie finished. Of course all four brothers had the tattoo. Mr. Kim had told her what the character meant weeks ago. Brother. How had she not seen it from the very beginning? How had she not made the connection?

  “How do you know that?” Zoey beamed, meeting Angie’s eyes. “Val says that he’s never seen Tony so close to murder than he was that night. Said it was the first time Tony ever put hands on Rome--almost killed him. Ended the entire vacation a week early… So ridiculous. Smartest guys you’ll ever meet, but I swear they lose twenty IQ points the moment you leave them alone together.” Zoey’s words slowed to a stop. “Uh-oh. You just left me. You’re having an Angie moment.”

  “Did they all get the tattoo in the same spot?”

  “Yep.” Zoey nodded. “They all got it on the back of their neck, right above the shoulder blades.”

  Angie gazed off into the distance. The Romanovsky brothers all had the same tattoo, in the same spot.

  Zoey waved her hand in front of Angie’s face. “You’ve got those zombie eyes, Ang. What case did you just solve?”

  Zoey knew her well. Angie hadn’t solved it, but she was close. Closer than she ever wanted to be.

  Without a word, she began rapidly standing.

  Zoey’s eyes widened. “You just got here.”

  “I have to go.” Angie jumped up.

  “Damn. Must be a big one,” Zoey laughed up at her, as she hurried away. “Congrats on the win!”

  Angie ignored Zoey’s congratulations as she moved hurriedly across the grass.

  If only Zoey knew what she was congratulating.

  Both of her parents were dead.

  And one of her brothers had done it.

  ***

  This time when Angie made her way into the quiet alley and locked eyes with Leroy, he stepped back and opened the door for her without a word.

  No haggling, no persuading, no money exchanging hands.

  He opened the door and welcomed her, just like that.

  It should have been a moment of celebration for Angie, but all it did was make her highly suspicious.

  “Thank you,” she said, passing Leroy with a suspect cut of her eye that said anything but ‘thank you’.

  The door slammed closed behind her. As she made her way to the elevator, Angie wondered if she’d ever be able to trust another human being again.

  She’d loved a man for ten years, one that had possibly been at the hand of a cold-blooded murder. If her instincts were so far off that she could allow herself to fall in love with someone capable of that, god only knew what else she was far off on.

  Her mind swam as the elevator dinged open on Jessica’s floor.

  “Hey.” Jessica nodded her head up she caught sight of Angie. “I’m glad you’re here. Come in.”

  A warm welcome? From Jessica Borgia?

  Angie was no longer suspicious that something was off.

  Something was off.

  “Since when do you greet me with ‘hello, and come hither?’” Angie asked, vocalizing her thoughts as she made her way towards Jessica’s desk.

  Jessica rolled her eyes as Angie approached, fighting as mile.

  “Is that a smile on your face?” Angie asked, coming to a stop at the desk, and pressing her fingers into it. “What an interesting sight. One I’ve certainly never seen before.”

  Jessica’s half-smile fell as quickly as it came. “Look. Colt…”

  “Ah,” Angie interrupted. “There she is. There’s the Jessica I know and love.”

  But Jessica remained serious. “I want you to stop looking into the Romanovskys, and leave it to me.”

  Angie’s blood went cold. It was a feeling she was quickly becoming familiar with, but one that still left her speechless, and deeply uncomfortable. Jamming her eyes shut, she begged for focus, for clarity, for peace.

  “I can’t do that, Jess,” she finally managed to say. “You know that. Especially not with the news I’ve just been blasted with this afternoon.”

  “I’m sure the news you’ve been blasted with only grazes the surface.”

  “Since when do you even give a damn about this case? Huh? Once upon a time, I had to beg you to…” Angie’s words slowed to a stop as realization hit her. “Oh…” So that was why it had taken Jessica so long to get back to her with the streetlight footage, with the Governor, or with any information at all on Knox Jefferson. That was why, slowly but surely, Jessica had given her less and less trouble with requests for information. It wasn’t because she’d suddenly taken a liking to Angie. It was because she’d been gathering information of her own, and using Angie to do it.

  “You were right,” Jessica said. “Something is off with the Romanovskys. Very off. I’m working on re-opening the case, undercover.”

  Angie’s blood ran from cold to hot in an instant. “And when the hell were you planning on telling me about this Jessica? You wouldn’t have even been thinking about any of this shit if it wasn’t for me.” Angie could feel herself losing control. She couldn’t breathe. Feeling out of control was a feeling she’d never been accustomed to, and now was no exception.

  “I thought it was another one of your wild goose chases. I didn’t think anything of it, but you were right. I’m telling you that you were right.”

  Angie wasn’t flattered. “How long have you been looking into this behind my back?”

  “Two months,” Jessica admitted.

  “Tell me what you’ve found.”

  “See now, telling you what I’ve found would directly contradict my first request. Which was for you to stop looking into this.”

  “I can’t stop looking into something that I have already started. Did you hear that?” Angie beamed. “Something that I, I, I have already started. Not you, Jess. Me. I started this. This is my case.”

  Jessica rose to her own feet and leaned into Angie the same way Angie was now leaning into her. “We’re not in high school anymore, Colt. This isn’t you solving locker room infidelities and midterm cheating scandals. This is the real world, and these people you’re fucking with? They’re powerful. You’re playing in some serious traffic right now, and if you keep poking at their tails, it’s not just you they’ll come after. They’ll come after your family, too. Your mother. Zoey. Anyone that you love.” Jess’ eyes searched Angie’s. “Your office is gone. Do you think that was an accident?”

  Tears filled Angie’s eyes. “I don’t believe in accidents.”

  Jessica nodded. “Smart girl. Always have been. Now do the next smart thing, and back away. Or who knows what else might go up in flames.”

  Angie gasped softly.

  Jessica voice had gone slow and calm, like she was speaking to a small child. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  “I understand,” Angie finally responded, with the few words she could manage passed her pounding heart. It smashed against her chest with such violence she was barely able to whisper her next words. “Do you know… do you know which brother was driving the car?”

  Jessica seemed surprised by the question. She knew Angie was smart, but it was clear she was surprised Angie knew as much as she did. Enough to know that a Romanovsky brother had been driving that night.

  Jessica breathed deep. “See, the fact that you just asked me that question tells me that you really don’t understand, and haven’t heard a word of what I just said.”

  “I do understand. I just need to know who was driving the car.”

  “I can’t talk about this and, as far as you’re concerned, there is nothing left to talk about. This is bigger than you now.”

  “Does this have anything to do with what I found on the Governor? Is he the powerful person you keep referring to? Governor King?” Angie already knew the answer, so she didn’t even wait for Jessica to confirm it. “I don’t give a damn about the Governor right now. I just need to know which Romanovsky brother was driving the god damn car.”

  A long silence passed. “Have you watched the news today? Or even
opened a paper? I know you’ve become so obsessed with your little case that you’ve lost sight of the real world, the one that’s continued to spin on without you, but you should know that Governor King announced his bid for presidency this morning, and that means you’re officially playing with fire, Angelica.”

  Jessica rarely referred to Angie by her first name, which was all the confirmation she needed. It was occurring to Angie that, though Jessica had stolen this case from her, she now knew much more about it than Angie did.

  If Jessica had information that was strong enough to re-open a ten-year-old case, and a presidential candidate was involved, Angie knew it was the kind of information that was bigger than Zoey’s parents, bigger than the Romanovsky brothers, bigger than who was driving the car that night.

  It was something bigger than both of them.

  Before she could stop herself, Angie was coming undone. She was shaking. She’d lost professional control in a way she never had in front of Jessica.

  Jessica noticed, taking a deep breath. “You should go home… and let this go. Watch a movie. Learn a new recipe. Take a bubble bath. Let the professionals handle the Governor and the Romanovskys.”

  “The professionals.” That hit Angie hard. As if everything she’d worked for, the job she loved and took pride in, her career, was a complete joke. Her eyes met Jessica’s, and the first question that popped into her head made her wonder if Jessica was even wrong to think her a joke. She couldn’t even stop herself from asking it, all but confirming that she was.

  “Just tell me Roman wasn’t driving.”

  “Take a breath,” Jessica demanded, worry clouding her eyes as she reached across the desk and covered Angie’s hand with hers.

  Angie stared at their hands. “Just tell me it wasn’t Roman.”

  The words tumbled out of her lips almost as quickly as the tears from her eyes, solidifying just how far she’d spiraled out of control when it came to this case. She always told Roman that being too close to a case made it impossible to solve, and now was no exception. She was no longer being held under a chokehold by this case because of what it would mean to Zoey, but what it would mean to her, as well. Her tear-filled eyes rose to Jessica’s.

  “Please just tell me it wasn’t Roman, and I’ll never bring it up, again. I swear to god, I’ll disappear. I’ll never speak to you again for as long as I live. Just please tell me it wasn’t him.”

  “Angie… Walk away.”

  With wide eyes, Angie moved away, her hand disappearing from under Jessica’s.

  Jess watched Angie hurry into the elevator. “Be safe!” she called, but the doors had already slid shut.

  17

  Using the key that had remained untouched in the pocket of her jeans, Angie unlocked the door to Roman’s apartment, and stepped in. If Jessica wouldn’t give her the answers, Angie would have to find them herself.

  She knew a Romanovsky brother had been behind the wheel of that car.

  But that didn’t mean it had to be Roman.

  It couldn’t be Roman.

  She was determined to prove herself right--even more than she was determined to know who did it.

  She just needed to know that Roman hadn’t.

  Calling out his name as she stepped through the door, she was relieved when he didn’t answer back.

  It would be much easier to search his apartment without him there.

  She took off her coat and hung it before crossing the room and climbing the winding staircase to the loft. His king sized bed was perfectly made at the top, and she hurried past it, towards the dark espresso chest of drawers that sat right next to it.

  Angie had no idea what she was looking for as she threw open each drawer, moving clothes every which way in search of anything that would prove him innocent. Her search quickly moved from his drawers to his bathroom cabinet, his closet, and the valley underneath his bed. She even lifted his mattress on all sides, huffing when she came up with nothing.

  She pulled at the tiny drawer on his bedside table, sure that it was going to be one of those fake, glued-on drawers that served no purpose.

  Surprisingly, the tiny drawer opened, and a cigarette pack slid forward.

  “Of course,” she moaned, snatching up the cigarette box.

  Standing tall, she flipped open the pack and found it completely full, not a single cigarette touched. Either he’d just bought a fresh pack, or he had self-control of steel. Surely a chain smoker like Roman would find it nothing short of torture to have a full pack of cigarettes right next to his bed every night.

  The box was worn. Tattered. Like he’d been carrying it all over town with him for months, just in case, but had yet to cave and partake.

  With a chuckle, she brought the pack to her nose and sniffed, immediately regretting it when the rancid stench stung her nose. She pulled it from her face with a scowl, dropping it back into the dresser. It bounced and flipped against the wood, coming to a stop on it’s back just as she was going to close it.

  She froze in mid-close, gasping softly at the sight that awaited her.

  A photo of her sleeping, one she hadn’t realized he’d taken, was taped to the back of the package, looking just as worn and tattered as the box itself. She swiped it up, and tears came to her eyes as the truth hit her. He didn’t have self-control of steel. He had her. She was his steel. She was his strength. He looked for her every time life drove him to his deadliest habit, his darkest comfort, his pseudo strength. Somehow, a candid, grainy photo of her from months ago had proven an even bigger strength for him than his precious Marlboros.

  “It helps.”

  The sound of his voice behind her nearly caused Angie to jump out of her skin, the pack flying out of her hand once more as she jolted in shock, turning towards the staircase and catching his eyes.

  “I look at it,” he said, eyes going to the pack that had just flown out of her hands. “And I hear you telling me that my breath tastes like smoke. I hear a lot of stats and percentages about all the fun ways it’ll kill me. That you’ll never kiss me again…” He took the final step up into the loft. “Hearing the woman that can make your dick hard with one look, tell you she’ll never let you taste her again? That’s enough to make any man stop.”

  “I think the Tobacco Industry would beg to differ.” He was telling her she made him stronger. Showing that kind of emotion was something that had never been easy for him to do. It was something he’d fought valiantly, in fact. She knew it took a lot for him to say what he was saying right then, they both did. But she wasn’t ready to face it.

  “I wasn’t snooping,” she said.

  “You can snoop. I have nothing to hide from you. What’s mine will always be yours… for as long as you want it to be.”

  “Strong words from a fuck buddy.”

  He looked pained. “You know that’s not what this is. Not anymore.”

  “I must have missed the memo.”

  “You’re more to me than that. I might have had a chance to tell you, but you’ve been acting…” He searched for the right word, but nothing came. “Really crazy, Angie.”

  “So now I’m crazy?” She was barely able to force herself to say her next words. “I think this is over, Roman.”

  Shock spilled across his face. “I’m sorry?”

  Angie’s eyes fell to the floor. “I don’t think it’s a good idea that we continue this.”

  “This?” he asked, as if that word had no meaning to him.

  “Yes.”

  “Are you…” He nearly laughed, but the sound got trapped in his stomach. “Are you breaking up with me?” In some small corner of his voice, his tone was jokey. The rest was soaked in pure terror.

  “I can’t break up with someone who was never mine.”

  His hand came up to his heart, but he couldn’t touch his chest completely, instead pressing the tips of his fingers into the flesh pounding wildly under his t-shirt, pressing against the roaring skin with vigor.

  Angie moved to
him slowly, meeting his wide eyes as she came to a stop in front of his frozen body. She ran her hands slowly up his chest, seeing her fingers trembling. “This is the last time we should see each other, and I don’t want it to end badly. We can even make love one last time, if you want to.” Her eyes hit the floor. The moment she said the words, she knew this had to happen. She had to disconnect from him completely. The fact that she was still willing to make love to him, hell, that she wanted to, without solid evidence of his innocence, proved that she needed space before she went completely insane. She wouldn’t be surprised if an asylum already had a room on hold for her, one they were ready to chain her inside of for life once they managed to track her down. “We can do it one more time, if you want to, and then this is over.”

  The subtle, joking smile he’d struggled to maintain finally vanished from his face and eyes, leaving him a panting mess on the verge of complete collapse.

  “Angie,” he started, as if he were a hostage negotiator ready to talk her down. “I love you.”

  Her face was stunned, but she didn’t speak.

  Tears hit his eyes. “I love you.”

  He kept saying it, and her face kept falling in shock, waiting for the punch line, but he wasn’t joking. Tears were tingeing his eyes, lips taking on a slow tremble. He bit his bottom lip in an attempt to control it, but the pain just found other places to run, reddening his cheeks, shaking his bones, stealing each breath he took.

  She tried to sputter out a response, but nothing came.

  He ran his hands down his face, but they were quickly clutching her arms once more. “And I was waiting to say it. I wanted it to be perfect, but I’ve known it… for a long time. I was scared. I fought it for a long time, but I don’t want to fight anymore.” His breathing had picked up, leaving his chest rising and falling rapidly. “Now it looks like I’m just saying it to get you to stay, but I swear to you I’m not.”

  “I think we’ve run our course.” Angie’s eyes narrowed, ripe with pain.

  “Angie, are you serious? I just told you that I love you.”

  “I’m not feeling this anymore.” She knew the words weren’t true. They didn’t even sound true. She was now robotically saying words she knew to say. Things she’d heard on TV or in movies.