Page 102 of More Than Nothing
“Thank fuck!”
He sat up, dragging a hand through his hair. Dougie’s words chased the last bit of sleep from his mind. “What’s up?”
“Elenie’s been arrested. So have Frank and Dean. They’re being held by Flint PD’s Special Investigative Unit. It wasn’t a DEA hit but they’ve jumped on board now.” Dougie sounded harassed. “I’ve come straight to the station from the hospital. Forsberg and Morgan brought in Athena Dax overnight when the DEA sent in a team to raid the house. She’s being transferred to Flint later today.”
“Shit!” Roman was out of bed and pulling on his pants as he listened, his jaw tight, heart pumping. Flint was only an hour away. “Why hasn’t she called me?”
“Don’t know, Chief. We heard nothing either.”
“I’ve got to go, Dougie. I’ll call you back once I’m driving. Keep me updated.” He grabbed his clothes, throwing them roughly into his bag, and his cell rang again.
“Am I talking to Chief Martinez?” Both the voice and the number were unfamiliar.
“You are. Who’s this?”
“I’m Detective Niall Belltower, Flint Police Department. We need to talk.”
Chapter 48
Elenie
Elenie was past hunger but she couldn’t eat anything. Her eyes, gritty from exhaustion, begged to close but she couldn’t sleep either. Shivers wracked her body. And she was pretty sure she stank.
To hold it together, she thought about Caitlyn and the baby, who must have been born by now.Girl or boy?She hoped they’d have a girl with just as much sass as her mother. She wanted to see her new friends so much. And Roman even more. But it didn’t look as if he was coming.
Elenie rubbed at her chest. Her heart hurt like it had been scooped out with an apple corer.
She tried to have faith. Roman would come through for her in a professional capacity, one way or another. That was the kind of person he was. Sleeping with him gave her no automatic rights to keep tabs on his every move. There was probably a good reason for him to have been with Zena. As she had pointed out, Zena was a better fit for him in every way. And they had history.
Neither Dorsey nor Booth had shown up yet either, but the custody officer had done his job and passed on her message. In a small side room, a Detective Belltower listened carefully as she told him about the CI deal, the data recovery device in her bag, and, with some hesitation, her connection to Roman.
Eyebrows more animated than the rest of his face, Belltower gave nothing away and said little. He made copious notes, brought her a chocolate bar and a coffee that tasted like ditchwater but was at least warm. Then he took her back to her cell, told her to sit tight—like she had other options—and promised he would be back.
Elenie counted the blue tiles that ran in a band, two deep, halfway up the wall. There were twelve across the longest walls and eight along the shortest one. The rest of the tiles were white. She counted the number of rows from floor to ceiling and spent a while estimating how many tiles there were in total. It helped to focus on something so methodical.
She imagined the nearest Zena would ever get to the same experience would be counting ceiling tiles at the beauty salon while she got her bikini line waxed.
The sliding hatch in the cell door clattered across. The custody officer met her eyes through the gap before fitting his keys into the lock on the outside of the door. He pulled it open and stood back.
“This way, please.”
Elenie followed him out into the corridor. Her pulse hammered. The constant wash and backwash of adrenalin was exhausting. She didn’t know whether she felt ready to fight an army or sleep for a week. A sign saying “Consultation Room” was fixed to the door the officer pulled open and her heart leaped into her throat.
Inside the room, radiating frustration and with a scowl as deep as she’d ever seen, was Roman.
Huge, fierce, and furious, like a dark avenging angel, both hands were shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans, the sleeves of his black shirt rolled up and forearms tight with tension. Her knees threatened to buckle. Never had he looked more attractive. And never had Elenie felt less worthy or more pathetic.
“Detective Belltower says you can have fifteen minutes.” The custody officer closed the door and locked it behind him. A CCTV camera blinked in the corner of the room.
Roman’s eyes raked over her tangled hair, her sodden clothes, her filthy legs and shoes, and a muscle rippled along his jawline. When he closed the gap between them, Elenie took a step backward, afraid to contaminate him. She’d been in the same clothes for more than twenty-four hours and hadn’t brushed her teeth. She felt disgusting.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner.” His voice vibrated in her chest. “Why didn’t you call me?”
Elenie glanced away. “I did.”
Roman’s eyebrows knitted together. “I didn’t have a missed call.”
“I spoke to Zena. She said you were busy.”
