ROMAN (Lane Brothers Book 5)

by Kristina Weaver

  “I have Will and his crew watching my back. Besides, I came back to prove that Roman and I are broken up and I’m here to see to Daddy’s business.”

  Which is flimsy and even I know it.

  “Mel…”

  “Look, Miah. I love Roman and I even love you Lanes, as weird as it sounds since you boys are possessive, controlling idiots, but I never signed up for tea parties and trying on designer gear. That’s just not me. Lord love your mama, but the woman is smothering me near to death with her coddling, and your other women are killing me with the girlie crap.”

  And Lord above save me, but if Judith Lane tries to give me an engagement ring one more time, I think I may lose my shit. No matter how gorgeous or big that rock may be. She’s a little on the possessive side and I’ve started suspecting that it may not be her husband that gave her boys their fair share of crazy.

  Tracy is chuckling silently by this point and every Lane man is blushing a bright red that I’ve never thought to see on them before. Will starts laughing and doesn’t stop till Jared punches him and sends him a glare.

  “I know we’re an overwhelming bunch.”

  “Overwhelming, Jared? Try batshit crazy, the whole lot of ya. Not that I’m much better, but I woke up with your mama staring at me and that’s just creepy as hell. Now calm yourselves and quit bugging me at work. One of y’all can come fetch me at seven and I’ll even let Will put someone on the door to keep strangers out, but that’s my offer. Take it or leave it.”

  “But—”

  “Cut your losses, man. The last time I tried to argue with her she put dishwater in my beer. For three weeks straight. I’ll keep her safe here and I’ll even bring her home in Tank,” Will cuts in, still chuckling at my mutinous expression.

  Tank is Lonnie’s pride and joy. I can’t exactly blame the guy since it’s one of the most beautiful vehicles I’ve ever laid eyes on. It’s black, big, and has armor at every point. Lonnie had it customized after a rival club tried to start a war and made his poor wife drive it around town for almost six months.

  No one and nothing can get through that beast, hence its name. It really is a civilian tank.

  I see them all cave in the next two minutes and congratulate myself for a job well done.

  What did Daddy always say? Start as you mean to go.

  “Can I at least stay another hour to check out all the doors and set up a camera or two?”

  “Yes, Miah, by all means, spend all your money fixing up The Traveler if y’all want, just stay out of my hair. Beer?”

  “Can I tell you I love you without you getting homicidal on me, Melissa Dobson?” Jared laughs, looking boyish and happy for the first time since he walked in the door.

  That gets Will roaring again and I see them all chuckle at my disgusted expression before I relent and blow him kiss.

  “Dude, please tell me Roman Lane is no pussy cat or I think I may need to put that poor man out of his misery before she does.” Lonnie laughs.

  Great, now they’re all freaking chummy. Just what I always wanted.

  I’m smiling inside, though, because if you’d have told me that I’d have one of the richest families in my bar, rubbing elbows with Will and his crew, I would have laughed and said no way.

  Will and these Lanes are two sides of the same coin. That makes me hopeful. Until now, I thought Roman and I would end up killing each other. If we ever made it past the year mark.

  Maybe our differences really are a good thing.

  ***

  Roman

  I’m in the middle of a very sensitive arms deal right now and all I can think about is the way Mel was crying on the phone, though I know that she was trying to hide the fact from me.

  My tough, resilient little lady with her gruff exterior was crying and hurt and I wasn’t there to comfort her and make things better. The memory makes my anger spike again and I’m forced to rein it in when Dyson nudges me and gives me a pointed look as the money changes hands and we take possession of missiles. The weapons only appear to be working but are actually duds being sold to us by one of my old buddies Fielding Jones, a CIA agent who has been deep undercover as a Russian mobster for about seven years now.

  For whatever reason he agreed to help me, I’m just glad I’m not sitting with live freaking missiles in Cleo’s grubby, trigger-happy mitts.

  “It’s all here, boss,” Fielding’s second says darkly and I let out a sigh when the missiles are quickly retrieved and stored away by Dyson and two of his cronies.

  “Good to do the business with you, Mr. Lane. Tell your bosses that if they need anything else, I would be glad to provide it.”

  My ass. The next thing Cleo’s got coming is a nice little cell with minimal sunlight and the knowledge that her life as she knows it is over.

  “The pleasure is ours.”

  The man smiles. If I didn’t know that he’s one of ours, I’d think he’s a weapons runner. I feel like I’m another person entirely, and I’ve only been at this for a few months. What must Fielding battle with daily, doing the things he has to in the name of God and country?

  We leave as quietly as we came and I let the tension drain away when Dyson turns to me with a grin and a respectful nod.

  “You’ve proven yourself admirably, Roman, and I know that Cleo will be quite pleased with the results. Maybe now she’ll stop her search for Melissa Dobson.”

  I snort and throw him a knowing look, letting him see that I know he’s fishing and I don’t give a shit.

  “I told you, she was just my way in with the chief. Do I want to see her die because I used her and her father was too chicken shit to protect her? No, I’m not a monster. But honestly, I don’t give a shit what Cleo has in store for the girl now that her usefulness has run its course.”

  The words are like acid on my tongue, and it takes me a few swallows to get rid of the bile climbing up my throat.

  That’s why I called her this morning and agreed to go through with the Fielding deal when I was vacillating. Cleo has a bug up her ass about little Mel and seems to think that she can use her to make me prove myself.

  Like hell I’ll let them hurt her, but I’m not as assured of her safety as I want to be. She resurfaced when I told her not to, and now she’s making herself very public.

  I know what she’s doing, and I’m proud of her grit and guts, but I can’t let her expose herself to danger this way.

  What can I possibly do to get her to see reason and stay behind the estate walls while I get this done? Mel is stubborn, and now that she’s got it in her head to use her little band of outlaws to bring me home, I know nothing short of me tying her to my bed and gagging her would make a difference.

  Having Will Sparrow on the case is going to fuck things up, I just know it is. That’s not just my jealousy talking, though I’m dying to beat him for even looking at her. Nah, my reasoning and annoyance is based on the plain fact that Will is one of the craziest, most reckless assholes I know.

  The man shot at a deputy a few months back for daring to even step foot in a club bar. The only reason he didn’t see the inside of a cell was because Mel made me talk to the chief about it and the man buried the incident under red tape.

  In other words, the case file got “lost.”

  Did I enjoy saving that idiot from prison after the way he’s been trying to steal my girl right out from under me? No, but an angry Mel is not a Mel I want to ever meet. Ever.

  So I towed the line.

  “You still with me, Roman?” Dyson asks and I snap out of it to see him staring at me curiously.

  “Yeah, man, sorry. I just didn’t sleep too well last night is all. Cleo isn’t paying me and my creditors are chewing my ass for the money I owe them.”

  “Man, I told you to stop gambling, dude. That shit’s a black hole.”

  “Yeah, yeah. You pay for sex, I like poker. We all got our weaknesses, man,” I gripe, pushing down my distaste for the man.

  What he’s into with women is nasty
, and I hate even hearing half the shit he does when he hires one of his “birdies,” as he likes to call them.

  In reality, I have more money than I can realistically spend in a lifetime, and I wouldn’t gamble with anyone but my brothers, if that. But among these people, I’m a gambler who’s split from his family, so letting him think my woes are all financial related is the only way to avoid suspicion.

  Plus, I needed to turn the focus away from Mel before I did something stupid like beat him to death and rile Cleo more than she already is.

  “Dude, at least I get something out of my vice. All you got is debt and misery.”

  Yeah, but at least I don’t walk away from a woman leaving her crying and shamed, I think, wishing not for the first time that I could let Miah loose on this animal.

  “Shut up and get us back to the warehouse already, Dyson. I’m sure Cleo is just dying to see if I came through or not, and I’d like to see her wrinkled old trout pout collapse when I prove her wrong.”

  “Hell yeah, man! I hate that bitch so much sometimes. I can’t believe Jerry lets her run the show.”

  Maybe Mel was right. Maybe I should get out with what I have, but whether I end up dead or not, I need to see this through and find the last player.

  Chapter Six

  Melissa

  The bar is smoke filled and crammed to the gills the next day, thanks to Lon and his big fat mouth. I’ve had so many people up my ass about the baby that I finally lost it and took old Bertha out just to let them know how I feel about unnecessary physical displays of affection and people touching my still flat stomach.

  And freaking Will, you’d swear the guy suddenly became the big brother I never had (or wanted) with the way he keeps forcing healthy foods on me and telling me to take it easy.

  I swear I almost miss his lascivious looks and inappropriate comments because at least none of it was as stifling as having the men around me trying to lift everything from a bottle to a freaking teaspoon for me.

  You’d swear being pregnant suddenly turned me into a weak, mewling idiot. Where before they’d all watch me carry a case of beer, stumbling under its weight, now they all jump when I so much as breathe near the storage room.

  I appreciate all the concern, but after getting “home” last night and having poor Judith almost expire with happiness and stick to me like bubble gum under my shoe, I’m a tad crankier about their gestures than I probably should be.

  Add Roman’s stubbornness to the mix and I’m about ready to start unloading old Bertha with an eye on the box of shells.

  “Hey, darlin’, that lemon ain’t done nothing to deserve its fate,” Will says, making me jump when he pops up beside me with a grin.

  I look down and see the remains of a lemon beneath my knife and grimace at the pulp that’s left of the poor thing.

  “You bugging me for a reason, Sparrow, or is it just my lucky day?”

  “Well, darlin’, I’d say it’s your lucky day with my attention being the golden ticket and all, but I just wanted to come on over and let you know that Lonnie spotted another of those assholes outside the bar. This one’s packing, so I called Miah and he’s coming over to get you home.”

  Oh for the love of God.

  “I can’t…please don’t make me go back there this early. She’ll make me try on freaking wedding dresses and shoes,” I whine pathetically. “You don’t understand.”

  “Darlin’, why’s it that women always bitch and gripe about not having all the fancy shit they always want, but when they get it they moan about it being too much?”

  I frown. My old Converse and even rattier Levi’s are my idea of designer, and I dare anyone to tell me and Bertha something different.

  But I get what he’s saying. I have a whole family that wants me and wants me to let them love me. I just don’t know how. My dad was gruff and ornery and most of the time we only saw each other at breakfast or suppertime.

  That’s what I’m used to, besides the quiet, intimate dinners I’d had with Roman.

  “Will, have you ever been a wine-and-flowers type of guy? You know, the man who wants fancy candlelit dinners with the perfect wife and three kids at home?”

  That has him turning green and I laugh when he swallows and immediately shakes his head.

  “Nah. You know me, I like beer and women who are easy to please. Like you, I guess,” he says sheepishly, taking another regretful look at my belly.

  “Well, that’s me. I like simple and relaxed, and with Roman that’s what I had. The man is not at all like his family, and I love that about him. He understands that I don’t do PDA, and that if I wanted something hanging on me twenty-four seven, I’d buy a scarf. The others don’t quite get that. They’re just so…”

  “Loving?” He laughs and I grimace and flip him the bird.

  “Too loving. Judith keeps kissing my cheeks and looking at me with stars in her eyes. You know Clari had to bribe her little brother Josh last night to keep the woman off me, and even that only worked for an hour. And Josh is the most adorable thing I ever saw. He should have kept her entertained for a good hour more. But no…”

  I spent an hour listening to wedding plans I have no intention of making until my errant boyfriend gets his ass back to me alive and whole.

  “You want me to shoot straight with you, darlin’? You’re not giving them a chance because you think that man of yours ain’t coming back. You don’t want to love them if he’s not gonna make you theirs. I’ve known you for a long time, Mel, and I know how your messed-up mind works. My advice is, give them a chance and have faith. That’s all we got, after all, and it makes life more bearable in the end.”

  “You been watching Dr. Phil now that Dr. Oz isn’t on TV anymore? That was downright inspirational,” I say with a smile.

  That gets me the bird and an unimpressed laugh as Miah strolls through the door, followed by Jared and a very mean-looking Wyatt Lane. The man looks ready to kill and I thank the sweet baby Jesus that he isn’t looking at me that way.

  “I still think we should send that fool back, bloody and broken. Cleo needs a message she can’t ignore.”

  “Quit it, Wyatt. We don’t want to antagonize her again. Lord knows what she’ll do to Roman. Oh hey, Mellie, you ready?”

  I watch Wyatt’s eyes narrow.

  “Uh, sure, if you keep Jack the Ripper up front with you,” I joke, liking that Wyatt chuckles and lets go of the anger long enough to smile and try to give me a noogie.

  “Hey! Watch the hair. I actually brushed it this morning, you know.”

  “I’ll behave as long as they stay as far back from us as is safe. Come on, little sister. Let’s go home so Ma can torture you with all her girlie shit.”

  “Dammit, Miah, I thought you said there was no sound on the surveillance systems,” I groan, grabbing my bag and getting into the human cage as all three Lanes and a grinning Will surround me on all sides.

  “I lied. Now stop being so ornery and smile for the stalkers, babe. We don’t want Cleo thinking you’re not happy with the amazing Lane clan.”

  Have I mentioned that sarcasm and wit are only great when I’m directing it at others?

  “You think it’s possible for them to see little ole me through all the testosterone you apes have going?” I ask sweetly.

  “Sure they will. Your head’s big enough to see from space, so why not?” Miah laughs and I roll my eyes at my own stupidity.

  Why I even still try when he only comes back with a worse insult just goes to show that I’m a glutton for punishment.

  Or a little sister who’s starting to enjoy having four big brothers who love teasing.

  ***

  I don’t have to spend the rest of my day with Judith or Ellie, thank you Jesus, because as soon as the guys got us all home and into the house, they shuffled me upstairs and started interrogating me like a prisoner of war.

  “What exactly did he say when he called you?”

  “For the hundredth time, Miah, he wanted to
yell at me for leaving the cabin. Then he told me to go home with y’all. That was basically it. He said he didn’t want Will involved and he wasn’t too happy about me coming out of hiding. That was it. Someone came in and he had to end the call.”

  All I get from the man is a stony glare.

  “He called you for a reason. I know Roman. He would not risk calling without a specific purpose, Melissa.”

  “I know that, Jeremiah. We just never got to that part of things so chill the hell out already. I didn’t even get to tell him about the freaking baby!”

  Do not cry, Dobson, do not cry. Crying is for women who were raised by their mothers or aunts. You’re a cop’s daughter and another cop’s woman.

  The mantra works and I feel myself stiffen when he only comes back and repeats himself.

  “You ask me the very same question again and your kids will be fatherless, Miah Lane.”

  Jared starts laughing. Jace and Wyatt share a look that sets my teeth on edge. And Miah finally straightens and backs off to start that pacing shit men do when they want to hit something.

  “That can’t be all. It just can’t. We need something, anything to go on here. Jared tried tracking the phone after Roman called, but he must have turned it off because we got nothing, and that damned…”

  I feel his frustration, since I have the same urgency roiling inside me, but I can’t give him answers I don’t freaking have.

  “Tracy says you called Uncle Jim.”

  Every one of them stiffens and I hang my head with a sigh.

  “He’s either involved or an asshole, as I’ve come to see it. So tell me.”

  Jared stops clicking at his keyboard and turns to me with what I can only guess is his attempt at commiseration.

  “Why didn’t the chief call his brother when they first started roping him into this? If what you told us last night is true, and I do believe you wouldn’t lie to cover your dad’s ass, then there was a reason he wouldn’t want to use the senator’s influence to get out of it. What did the chief say?”