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  Claiming Roman

  Trevion Burns

  CLAIMING ROMAN

  Copyright 2015 © by Trevion Burns

  Editor: Celeste Mulholland

  All rights reserved. The reproduction, transmission or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without written permission.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  To Bianca

  1

  “No offense, Angie, but fucking you? It’s kind of like… fucking my grandmother.”

  From behind the thick frames of her cat-eyed glasses, Angie Colt squinted in dismay at Drew Mertz, the man she’d been dating for a little over a month. She was hardly able to accept the words that had just left his mouth.

  “You’ve fucked your grandmother?” she asked, amazed when he faltered for a moment, then actually drumming up the nerve to look at her like she was crazy.

  “Obviously I’ve never fucked my grandmother,” he cringed. “That’s disgusting.”

  “So, having sex with me is disgusting?”

  “Don’t put words in my mouth. You always do that.”

  “I’m not putting words in your mouth.” Her voice rose against her will. “Sleeping with me is like sleeping with your grandmother. Sleeping with your grandmother is disgusting. Therefore, sleeping with me is disgusting. Deductive reasoning, Drew. Or weren’t you present that day in third grade?”

  He faltered once more before finally sputtering, “You think too much.”

  Angie blinked.

  “Look, you’re not disgusting. Just… you’re a little…A little dull.” Wagging his head contemplatively back and forth, he was unable to bite his tongue. “A lot dull, actually.” The moment he said the words, he frowned at her, as if annoyed with her for forcing him to this level. “I think we should talk less.”

  Angie knew what ‘talk less’ meant. Years of rejection from the opposite sex had left her very hip to the subtle nuances of rejection.

  “Let me get this straight, Drew. Not only are you dumping me, but you’re telling me that I’m a dull, disgusting lay… on top of dumping me? Because being dumped doesn’t already suck enough?”

  “To be fair, we were never actually dating. Just fucking. So, technically, I’m not dumping you. Just saying we should talk less. A lot less.”

  Angie looked past him, and down the bustling block of her Harlem neighborhood, struggling to gather her thoughts. She wrestled with the urge to regale Drew with all of the things she found subpar about him, but her pride wouldn’t allow it. She refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her hurt and angry.

  Besides, he was far from the first man who’d told her she was a dead fish in bed. In fact, if Drew found himself trapped in a room with most of her ex boyfriends, he would be in good company, so the blow of his words didn’t throw Angie the way it might have once upon a time.

  Her eyes rose back to him. He appeared desperate to leave, and she was just as desperate for him to go. No need to drag this out.

  Especially not with Roman Romanovsky lingering quietly in the distance behind her. The thought of Roman knowing she was bad in bed made her stomach go sick, faster than Drew Mertz’s rejection ever could.

  She wondered why some karmic god above seemed to have it in for her. Roman Romanovsky just had to come to her door for help that morning, that day, and at that time. Just in time, apparently, to watch her not only get dumped, but dumped brutally.

  As she breathed deep, a wave of hope hit her. Perhaps Roman wasn’t even listening to them. Perhaps he was so wrapped up in his own world, his own problems—the very problems that had driven him to her door in the first place, that he hadn’t heard a single word of this painful conversation?

  Risking a look over her shoulder, Angie caught sight of him leaning coolly against the brick wall of her apartment building just a few feet away. He’d taken up residence there when Drew had surprised them both on their way out of the building.

  He puffed patiently on a cigarette as his black pea coat fluttered easily in the winter wind. His ice blue eyes blended right in with the rapidly graying skies above. Eyes that were currently riveted right to her. He removed the cigarette from between his plush pink lips with his thumb and forefinger, holding her gaze.

  Angie snapped her head away.

  Yep. He’d definitely heard it all.

  Perfect.

  Eager to ease his conscience, Drew nodded his head over her shoulder, towards Roman. “Looks like you’ve already forgotten about me anyway.”

  She rolled her eyes. “He’s a client.”

  All lies. She was sure that Drew hadn’t missed the stars in her eyes, the ones that always made an appearance whenever Roman was around. She hoped he wouldn’t push it. Her ten-year infatuation with Roman Romanovsky, a man she would never have any real chance with, was embarrassing enough.

  “Whatever.” Drew shrugged uncomfortably. “So, I guess this is goodbye then.”

  “Goodbye,” Angie called, a little too loudly. She jammed her eyes shut as he swept eagerly past her. After gathering her wits, she turned to watch him go, not missing the way he and Roman locked eyes as he moved.

  With a cool purpose, Roman pushed himself off the wall and tossed his cigarette, nodding his head to lure Drew over. Another cloud of smoke billowed from between his lips.

  After shooting an inquisitive look at Angie, Drew made his way to Roman with great hesitance, and rightly so, because when they were within a foot of each other, Roman took the back of Drew’s neck in his big hand, yanking him roughly forward. Roman didn’t even wait for Drew to find his footing before he was whispering something in his ear, blue eyes unsmiling as he spoke, growing more volatile with each word he said.

  Angie watched in stunned silence as Roman’s heavenly face slowly contorted into something rough with anger. He whispered furiously into Drew’s ear. From where she stood, she could see the back of Drew’s neck tingeing red from where Roman held him.

  A few more forceful words were whispered before Roman shoved Drew away, shrugging the cuffs of his coat back into place. His powerful blue eyes never wavered from their target as Drew stumbled backward.

  Eyes filled with a newfound alarm, Drew looked to Angie.

  She jolted when he hurried back over to her. He wasn’t running, but he wasn’t walking either. It was as if he wanted to run, but his pride wouldn’t allow it. She blinked when he came to a stop in front of her, eyes wide.

  “Angie,” he breathed, his eyes narrowing to the side as he spoke, as if he were waiting for Roman to come in for round two. When several moments passed, Drew allowed his frightened eyes to meet hers once more. “That… that wasn’t acceptable, the way I just spoke to you… you…” Drew suddenly looked over his shoulder. Seeing that Roman remained a comfortable distance away, albeit still watching them, he looked back to her. “The way I just spoke to you was unnecessary. You’re a beautiful woman, you really are. The smartest person I’ve ever known, by a long shot.”

  As Drew spoke, it was Angie’s turn to look at Roman with wide eyes, mouth wide open. What the hell had he just said to Drew? Before she could wonder a moment further, Drew spoke, again.

  “I hope you find every happiness,” he said.

  Even though he’d obviously been strong-armed into saying all this, there was something about his last words to her that rang honest, so Angie smiled softly.
>
  “Thank you, Drew,” she said. “I wish you every happiness, too. I do.”

  Drew held her eyes for a moment longer. “Goodbye, Angie.”

  “Bye, Drew.”

  Drew looked over his shoulder at Roman one last time before running his hand down the back of his head. He moved past Angie, in the opposite direction of Roman.

  She turned and watched him go in awe. He moved quickly. Once again, not running, but not quite walking.

  She waited until Drew was out of sight to turn back to Roman, who hadn’t moved from where he’d been leaning against the wall. When her eyes met his, the wind picked up, undoing the product that had been keeping his short blonde hair perfectly swept back.

  “What the hell was that?” she demanded.

  Looking absently away, Roman pushed off the wall and began making his way toward her. At a towering 6’4”, every step he took towards her, she had to crane her neck back a little more. His skin was creamy white, but that didn’t stop his light blue eyes from leaping off his face, grabbing her by the throat.

  Her eyes narrowed. She couldn’t look at him. It was devastating.

  A voice in her head laughed. As if she had a choice! Confirming her thoughts, her eyes were back to him instantly, memorizing every inch of his face.

  Taking him in, Angie pressed her hands on her hips, not knowing what else to do with them. As she thought of Drew, she was unable to wipe the smile from her face. Whatever Roman said to Drew had left him looking like he’d seen a damn ghost. Angie was sure if she went around the corner and tracked Drew down, he’d have probably ruined his pants.

  Pointing behind her to where Drew had just made his quick exit, she laughed. “You have to understand, that man is a banker for Merrill Lynch, which makes him an entitled, egotistical asshole. Pretty much by default. I never thought I’d see the day that man owned up to anything.” She pressed her hands to her hips. “What in God’s name did you say to him? I need to know so I can tuck it in the back of my mind for use on the next guy who tells me I’m a lousy lay--” She immediately bit her tongue. Now Roman knew that Drew wasn’t the first guy to tell her she was boring in bed.

  Perfect.

  He didn’t smile, but with every word Angie shot at him, his eyes lit up a little more. They slowly travelled her body before climbing back up to hers.

  She would give her left arm to know what he was thinking. Why was he so damn quiet?

  “I’m assuming you heard what he said to me.” Angie stared at her tattered Vans as she attempted to save face, kicking them against the sidewalk.

  A tiny smile finally pushed a corner of Roman’s lips, giving them a slight tilt, but he didn’t answer.

  Zoey Black, Angie’s best friend, and Roman’s sister, had always warned her that he was quiet. Angie was quickly learning that Roman Romanovsky was more than quiet. He was damn near mute.

  “Sorry if any of that made you uncomfortable. I honestly didn’t know Drew would be down here. I usually prefer to get dumped in the privacy of my own apartment, but…” She trailed off. As her green eyes rose back to his, and found him watching her intently, she couldn’t help the blush that hit her cheeks. Even with the frigid air whooshing away every second, her body still rolled with warmth with one look from him. She felt like she’d lost all control.

  The sight of him at her doorstep, just minutes before, had left her brain completely muddled. Roman Romanovsky, standing in the hallway of her dump of an apartment? She was lucky to have remembered her own name. Just looking at him sent her into a tailspin that she wasn’t familiar with. One she didn’t know how to solve.

  And Angie could solve anything.

  She was a fact driven creature. An investigator. A problem solver. Every mystery had a solution, even if you had to peel back a thousand layers to find it. The mystery of what Roman Romanovsky did to her body with one shot of those eyes, however, was one she was sure she’d never solve. It was something that lingered too deeply inside of her, under layers she wasn’t even sure she could touch, not even if she tried.

  Continuing to stare at her shoes, she realized her feet had already gone numb. From under her lowered eyes, she saw him finger a pack of cigarettes from his pocket.

  “You shouldn’t smoke,” she finally managed. “You really shouldn’t. It’s terrible for you.” She wanted to roll her eyes at herself. As if the man didn’t know that cigarettes were terrible for you. The whole world knew. Still, she couldn’t force herself to stop talking. “Cigarette smoke contains almost ten thousand toxic chemicals. More than a hundred of those chemicals are known to cause cancer. In fact, 90 percent of lung cancer deaths are cigarette related.”

  Roman’s eyes went wide as he feigned shock, even as he pulled a cigarette out of the pack with his teeth. He pushed the pack into his pocket and came back up with a lighter, tilting his head at her with a squint as the flame illuminated his face.

  She watched as he lit the cigarette, going out of his way to keep the smoke away from her face. “It can also cause chronic obstructive pulmonary disease, abdominal aortic aneurysm, acute myeloid leukemia, cataract, pneumonia.” Shut up, Angie. Her brain screamed for her to stop, but her lips persisted. If the man would just say something—anything, she could finally shut up.

  But Roman seemed in no hurry to put her out of her misery.

  Angie watched his lips, entranced as he took a heavy drag. Every word he wasn’t saying had her determined to put ten more in its place, voice breaking as she spoke. “Esophageal, laryngeal, cervical, and pancreatic disorders are common. It can also have a major impact in the development of...” Shut the fuck up, Angie! Taking a deep breath, she hesitated, then thanked the good lord above when no more words came spilling out of her mouth. “Sorry,” she whispered, running her hand down the back of her hair. “I go off on tangents every once in a while. You can feel free to stop me at any time, otherwise I may never shut up.”

  He turned his head away from her as he exhaled, his eyes never leaving hers. “Zoey always said you were a genius.” A heavy billow of smoke breezed from the corner of his smiling mouth. “It’s different, though… experiencing it firsthand.”

  “You shouldn’t smoke.”

  “I’ll keep it in mind.”

  She saw his eyes dance in an effort to follow her curls as they flew along with the breeze, and fought the urge to pull them back. She’d been dying for his attention for ten years, and now that he’d placed it squarely on her, she couldn’t handle it. Her hair had always been an attention grabber, and now was apparently no exception. Big and impossibly thick, it moved easily, and he seemed fascinated by the various shades of brown that spiraled about, coming to an uneven stop just below her shoulders. The darker curls matched her skin perfectly, and almost disappeared from sight as they lapped at her face.

  He tossed the cigarette while it was still burning, watching as it crashed onto the pavement below, sending tiny beads of fire bouncing.

  “Zoey said you could help me,” he said, looking back to her.

  He’d said those exact words when he’d come to her apartment door that morning, and she was reminded of why she was here, standing before him with wet panties and a motor mouth.

  “She says you’re the best investigator in the city.” He motioned to her. “Says you can find anybody.”

  “I’ve closed every case that’s come across my desk.” Her green eyes shot up to his blue just as the wind blew her tightly spiraled curls into her face, momentarily shadowing an embarrassed squint. “Well, I’ve closed all but one.” She brought her bag up to her chest, suddenly wanting to hide, just as a hurried woman bumped into her from behind, sending the leather bag tumbling to the sidewalk.

  They both bent down at the same time. Thankfully, most of the contents of her bag had stayed put, all but one.

  Roman swept up the red folder that had tumbled out of her bag, the only folder that was overflowing with documents. Colorful post-its touched almost every page, and the seams were on their last l
eg. He ran his fingers over the two words, Zoey File, that had been doodled on the front of the file in various colors and styles.

  “It’s my Zoey File,” Angie said, reaching for it.

  “I noticed that.” He held it up. “The one case you never solved? Zoey’s parents?”

  “Just happened to be the one file that accidentally fell out of my bag, yeah,” she laughed.

  “Do you believe in accidents?” he asked.

  “Not really. No.”

  “Neither do I.”

  His eyes grew far too intense, more than she was prepared to handle, so she moved her eyes back to her scattered belongings on the ground. “I’ve been working on her parents’ murder since I was fifteen. Then again when I was sixteen. Then one more time when I was seventeen, because I have a hard head.” After gathering the last of her things, she looked back at him, still not used to the shift her heart made every time their eyes met. “It’s the only case I’ve never solved. That makes me crazy. So I keep it with me at all times, in a bright red folder, so I can always see it. I refuse to die with that case unsolved.”

  A smile tugged his lips. He brought the file closer to him. “Do you mind if I take a look at it?”

  Angie faltered. “I don’t work well with others.”

  “I’m not asking to work with you, just offering you a second eye. Maybe there’s something you’re missing.”

  Her eyes darkened. “I don’t miss anything.”

  “And yet.” He waved the folder. “The case is still open.”

  She smiled half-heartedly, but had to take a moment. “That’s another conversation. I’m here for you. Let’s focus on you. Keep the folder for as long as you’d like. I have most of it memorized anyway.” They stood after gathering up the rest of her things, and she adjusted the bag on her shoulder nervously when he brought the folder to his side. “But please take care of it.” Watching the folder for a moment longer, she breathed deep and told herself to relax. “So. You said you’re trying to find someone?”

  He nodded. “My father. I need to find him. My real father. All I know is that he was an anonymous donor. I don’t know his name. I don’t know what he looks like. But I need to find him.”