Free Roman's Redemption: Roman: Book II (Roman's Trilogy) by Kimber S. Dawn Page A

fairly certain Andrew just shoved and locked your husband outside of my house. Send him a text telling him you’ll be done in about ten minutes, then go upstairs and pack Ivy a suitcase. The essentials. Clothes, toiletries, her iPad and charger.”
    I feel Ivy rest her head on my shoulder as I look over at Andrew to give him his instructions. “Andrew, make sure Ivy’s car seat is moved to the Escalade, also, make sure her favorite movies are stowed in the console, as well as her favorite books.”
    Jen is already at the top of the stairs when I turn back to tell her, “Also, Jen, make sure to pack Heather’s gray cashmere blanket, the one Ivy needs to sleep at bedtime. I want to be on the road in less than twenty minutes.
    After packing a bag for myself, I change into a pair of slacks and a black v-neck t-shirt and head downstairs.
    “I set up your Nav up in the Escalade, should take you about four hours.” Andrew moves to grab my bag, but my grasp on the strap tightens causing him to look up at me, “You want me to take your bag to the car, Rome?”
    I release my hold on the bag and say in a low tone, “Drew, you’re going. Someone has to sit in the back with Ivy. What if she needs something?”
    He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Okay, Umm… Do you want me to drive or sit in the back with Ivy?”
    Bopping down the grand staircase that descends into the front sitting room clutching Heather’s gray cashmere blanket looped around an arm and clutching her stuffed Fievel mouse to her chest with the other, she, like her curls, bounce from step to step as she sings, “Ring around da rosies, pocket pull da posies…”
    With pride puffing my chest out like a proud poppa, I glance at Andrew, more than certain he sees the amusement on my face, I say, “I’ll be in the back seat with my angel, making sure she’s taken care of. Are we all ready?”
     

Chapter 12

    “…Thanks, Carol. Mistaken Identity is the only explanation police have in a bizarre turn of events that’s left not only Oregon State Police, but also Washington State Police with more questions than answers. The reserved, some would even say reclusive, Dr. Roman Payne has identified the Jane Doe who was taken into custody by Oregon authorities for loitering and suspected shoplifting as his believed to be dead wife, Heather Mackenzie Payne. In a public statement to the press after having paying his wife’s bail, he told reporters, “My only concern is my wife’s physical and mental well-being, nothing else matters to me or our daughter, thank you for respecting our privacy.” Mrs. Payne appeared severely malnourished, confused, as well as anxious while police escorted her to the family’s Escalade…”
    “I doubt she’s even made it a mile. Don’t blow this out of proportion. That’s what you said, Mother, that’s what you told me, isn’t it?” Ripping my hand through my hair for the millionth time I spin around to continue pacing as the Fox News reporter mocks me with every word before replaying the video of Mac tucked into Roman fucking Payne’s side as a gaggle of cops escort them to a dark SUV. And I swear to God and everything sacred and holy that little bitch is smirking, laughing at me when she looks over her shoulder and into the camera for one second before the news clip ends.
    “Child, you told me you’d gone at her with a curling iron for almost an hour. How am I to know she had it in her? All’s I ever saw was her hunkerin’ down and flinchin’ around Roman, I didn’t know when she bore his children she’d go from Fievel the mouse to Joan of Arc. None of this is in any way my fault, so you can quit glaring at me every time you turn your face in my direction.” Mother turns towards the parlor, “Lizbeth, did you start the tea yet, dear?”
    As mother conveniently leaves to check if Lizbeth has started the goddamn tea, my rage finally ceases control as the lamp is thrown at the seventy two inch screen with Mac