Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 74291 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74291 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
I love him and he hates me. He has good reason. In all the scenarios where I told Roman who I really was, I never once thought I wouldn’t get the chance to try and explain. Roman won’t see me though. I’ve been trying, and each time he ignores me.
Instead, I’ve spent my time cleaning out my locker at the station and ignoring the snarls and looks of my once fellow cops, wadding up the sticky notices that littered my locker declaring me a snitch and sometimes much worse. I went to interview after interview with IAB, and I turned in every bit of evidence I’d gathered against Paul Banks and the three men that worked under him. I did my best to make Roman appear to be a poster child for clean living magazine.
It worked. Roman’s charges were dismissed. I was stripped of my badge and reprimanded, but any charges that might have been filed against me were negated in exchange for helping with IAB’s investigation. I might have not been wearing a wire each time I met with Paul, but I had been using a mini voice recorder in my pocket, catching Paul’s instructions and plans each time. The best evidence came, however, when I informed the detective in charge about a small firebox that Paul kept in his home office. It was a gamble. I remembered it from the times during my training that I would join Paul and several other squad members for a cookout and we planned the best way to set me up to meet Roman. I didn’t realize what a complete moron Paul was until IAB found the trophies Paul kept from every crooked deal he ever made. He was using the proof inside to blackmail members of the squad to do his bidding, but in the end, the proof only helped to arrest him. If karma is real at all, it should lock him up for a long fucking time. His trial is scheduled to begin soon, and I for one can’t wait.
That’s not what tonight is about, however. Tonight is a last ditch effort. I’m at the strip club. I know Roman won’t be here, but he’ll be told I am, especially when I demand to dance. I was never fired, so technically I’m still on staff. It will probably blow up in my face, but maybe Roman will at least come here to talk to me.
Okay, as plans go, it’s shit. I know it. I just know I have to try. I have to. I kept expecting him to reach out to me, especially when he found out that I had cleared his name at the expense of my career. I heard nothing. I thought he would at least talk to me when I showed up at the Stable demanding to see him after Paul was arrested.
I was escorted off the premises. Which leads me to now. I don’t have any hope held out that tonight will end differently than the other numerous times I’ve tried. However, it is my last time to try. If I don’t see Roman tonight, I walk away. It won’t be what I want, but I need to move forward with my life. Besides, I’m getting pissed at him. I know he’s mad and he gets to be angry, but to just refuse to talk to me and walk away as if we were nothing to each other…?
“Ana? What the fuck are you doing here?”
I stop in front of the back dressing rooms, shock flooding through my system. Of all the people I thought would be here tonight, this wasn’t one of them.
“Allen? What—I mean, how… When did this happen?”
“I’m working for Roman a few nights a week. Just to see…”
“See what? Why would he let you work for him? I don’t understand,” I mumble, thoroughly confused. What am I missing here? And why does Allen seem… almost normal? What happened to the angry brother who hated the world? I have so many questions, but before I can ask them, Allen is grabbing my hand.
“You need to get out of here,” he grumbles, his grip firm as he tries to pull me away. I jerk against his hold, easily breaking free.
“I’m not going anywhere. Tonight is my regular night to dance,” I announce. Allen’s eyes go wide and he shakes his head in disbelief. I try to stand tall at my announcement, but avoid looking into Allen’s eyes. The last thing I need is for him to read the panic in them.
“Are you crazy?” Allen cries. “Roman isn’t going to let you dance!”
“Well, he didn’t fire me. Until he does, I’m dancing.”
“Ana, you’re being stupid. If Roman finds out you’re here, he’ll have you escorted out of the club so fast your head will spin. Hell, as mad as he is at you right now, he may have you arrested for trespassing.”