Mess Me Up
Page 29

Love,
Sequin.
I swallowed hard and refolded the letter precisely as it’d been folded before.
“What do you think, Rome?” I asked softly.
So softly that I didn’t think he’d heard me.
He had.
And when his eyes met mine, I knew that we’d be taking Blitz home.
***
The tank was set up in the living room.
We’d contemplated setting it up in Matias’ old room, but with the living room getting more traffic, we thought it’d be better for him to be out in the open where we could keep an eye on him.
Rome had been very quiet since we’d put Blitz into his back seat. Not a word had been spoken since about a mile into our trip when he asked if I was hungry, and now the only time we’d spoken was when he asked where I thought the best place for him to go would be.
Now the tank was set up, and Rome was sitting on the arm of the couch, staring at the tank.
I kept looking at him with small glances here and there, wondering if he was about to blow up or kick me out of his house.
He did neither.
He sat there so long that I started to get uncomfortable standing, so I sat, too.
In fact, it continued for over an hour, and I started to get really nervous.
Then he just…broke.
I heard the first sob leave his throat, and I rocketed up to my feet.
I stared at Rome in horror.
This big, huge man was crying like a child, and I’d done that to him.
“Rome, God.” I hurried to him. “I’m so sorry!”
I’d never meant to make him cry.
In fact, if you’d asked me before this, I wasn’t sure that he could cry.
I’d seen him do it once and only once, and that was on the day that Matias had passed away in his arms.
All the other times that every single person was crying, he was dry-eyed.
I never in a million years would’ve thought that I would’ve elicited this response out of him.
“Rome.” I touched his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
Rome moved like a cobra, latching onto my arm before I could pull away and tugging me into his body.
He held me tight like that, his head buried in my neck, as he cried.
“I love you, Isadora,” he said between hitched breaths. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you in my life, but I’m thanking my lucky stars right now. I would’ve never had the courage to get that tortoise…but I’m happy that you did. You push me every day to be a man that Matias would be proud of, and I can never repay you. You’re making me remember my boy, and for that, I’ll always love you. You’ve brought me back from the brink, baby.”
I felt things inside of me take off in a flourish of stars and sparks.
“I love you, too, Rome Pierce,” I whispered into his hair. “And we’ve saved each other, baby. Don’t you forget it.”
Rome looked up, his eyes were wet with his last tears, and I kissed them away.
“Are you hungry?” I asked.
We hadn’t eaten at all today, and it was going on two in the afternoon.
But before he could answer, his phone rang.
Then my phone rang.
Followed by a knock at the door.
Rome frowned and got up to answer the door.
I went for his phone since nobody but clients or my parents called mine.
His phone flashed Bayou’s name across the screen, and I pressed answer just as Rome pulled open the door to his home and revealed Wade.
“Shit’s gone down,” Wade said just as I answered, “Hello?”
“Hey, honey,” Bayou murmured in his deep, Cajun drawl. “You okay?”
I frowned as I looked at the door where Wade was pushing through without waiting for Rome to let him in. “I’m fine.”
He heaved a sigh of relief. “Good.”
“Why?” I questioned. “Is everything okay with you?”
“Your brother heard some shit in the yard today about something, and I wanted to make sure that you were okay. I’d intended to ask Rome, though, and not worry you at all,” he said hesitantly.
I rolled my eyes.
That was such a man thing to say.
“What did my brother hear?” I asked carefully.
Rome took the phone from me before Bayou could likely deny me, and I was left staring at Rome’s chest as he rumbled about a meeting in an hour.
I leaned forward and let my forehead rest against his chest as I tried to think of what my brother could have possibly heard, in jail of all places, about me.
I had nothing to do with that kind of stuff…did I?
Apparently, I was wrong, and I did.
***
I stared blankly at Wade and Bayou, who were seated directly across the table from me.
“Senator Antilles is what?”
“Dead,” Wade repeated again.
It was his fourth time to say it, after all.
My eyes traveled over Wade’s hard, unyielding face, to Rome’s, then to Bayou’s.
“You’re not joking.” I paused. “Do they think I had something to do with it?”
Wade shook his head. “It happened about an hour before I came over to your place,” he explained. “And I’ll have to say where I got the photos from now. With a murder investigation pending, I don’t have the right to withhold that kind of information.”
I looked down at my hands. “Rodrigo will know that I was involved.”
“Rodrigo is the number one suspect,” Wade explained. “He will likely be under close scrutiny until he can be exonerated. He won’t hurt you.”
I closed my eyes. “So, they arrested Rodrigo yesterday, he was released on bail today, and Senator Antilles dies within two hours of him being released?”
Wade nodded.
I felt a headache coming on.
“Did you find out who the other man was?” I asked.
Wade nodded. “An associate of Rodrigo’s at his law firm.”
My belly roiled at that news.
“They wouldn’t have known it was me at all if Senator Antilles hadn’t been killed,” I whispered, feeling a bad sense of foreboding coming on. “You know he’s going to kill me, right?”
Rome threw his arm over my shoulder and pulled me in close. “Over my dead body.”
That was what I was afraid of.
Chapter 16
I don’t need someone that sees the good in me. I need someone that sees the bad in me and doesn’t give a fuck.
-Rome’s secret thoughts
Rome
“Yo,” I said to the guard in C unit. “Do you mind opening the gate? I want to go talk to someone.”
The guard, Corry Orman, opened the gate and shrugged. “They’re in the yard.”
The yard was the area outside where the inmates went twice a day to get in their daily exercise. There was weight equipment, basketball goals, and a small running track. Most of the inmates worked out, but there were some who sat on their fat asses and watched all the other inmates doing what they did.
Slate, Izzy’s brother, was one of the inmates who worked out.
He was benching three hundred and fifty pounds—who knows if he could handle more since that was the heaviest weight that the prison supplied for the inmates—when I walked up to him.
Nobody was spotting him, which wasn’t surprising.
He’d been a cop, and nobody in the prison system liked cops except for the guards, other ex-cops—which there weren’t many of—and loners that would like anyone as long as it helped protect them.
He clocked me the minute I came up to him.
Racking his weight, he sat up, shirtless with sweat running down his chest, and stared at me with Izzy’s dark eyes.
“What?” he asked.
I offered him my hand. “My name is Rome. I’m dating your sister.”
Slate blinked, staring at me blankly. Then reached out and took my hand.
We were drawing attention from the other inmates. It wasn’t every day that a guard offered his hand to an inmate.
But these were special circumstances.
“You’re dating my sister,” Slate said blankly. “Which one?”
He knew exactly which one since he only had one sister.
Bayou had informed me that he’d heard rumblings of mine and Izzy’s relationship in the yard—how the hell they knew this shit was beyond me—and that he wasn’t very happy about it.