Flame within the Grey

Chapter 39

CHAPTER 39

Roman stared at the image in the mirror. The bump on his head had flattened to a dark red bruise, causing his head to split inside. His torso and back were naked. He had nothing but his black trousers and shoes on. Every cut, burn and blister were seen under the bright bathroom light. The new scars mingled with the old. Roman leaned forward and surveyed his damaged face. Small cuts and bruises were scattered, yet the scar beneath his left eye was still blatant.

Roman cursed out and clenched both his fists that clutched the edges of the sink, till his knuckles turned pale.

This was a bad day. A bad fucking one. He scowled, hating to think such thoughts on Scarlett's birthday.

Scarlett...

Her fiery name.

Thinking about her made him suddenly dejected. He hated the feeling... this vulnerable. He felt exposed, like a wounded soldier without armor, ready for anyone to attack.

Maybe he was just shook up from the attempted hit on his life. He had to think of a strategy to find out who the fuck wanted him out. Investigating suspect number one, the bastard Joey Morello was first on his list. But he didn't want to think about it too hard. His brain pounding from bombs and splintered metal.

Roman was used to fighting with the Grim Reaper. But this time, it felt different. He was tired of it, and had more at stake. He had told his men to go home. To be with their wives and children. He didn't need their protection tonight. He never feared death and could hold his own if the Grim Reaper decided to knock on his door once more.

Roman cracked his neck twice, left, and right. His fingers massaged his stiff right shoulder blades that ached from the fall. His ribs pained on his left side. He winced as he lifted his arm up examining the injury further. He abandoned the painkillers and switched off the bathroom lights. He sauntered to the living room downstairs. He preferred to feel the pain. He welcomed it. It confirmed he was still alive. Deep down, he knew he deserved as well.

He sauntered past the windows illuminated by the half-moon. His shadow moving along the glass and steel furniture that gleamed in the darkness. Roman stopped at the bar and grabbed a Jonny Walker blue bottle and an empty glass from the silver tray. He strolled to the leather couch and plopped on the cool seat from exhaustion. He opened the bottle and leaned forward. Pouring a healthy shot of whisky. He settled the bottle on the glass table and rested his body back. His hand positioned the glass beneath his nose. He inhaling the fruity vanilla and dark chocolate tones, and took a needed gulp.

The burn felt excellent scorching down his throat. He dropped his head back and closed his eyes, hoping it would ease the throbs and aches. Silence filled the mansion as the liquor took effect. Zoning out the piercing ring in his ear from the explosion that replayed into his mind. The quietness was interrupted. A loud beep reverberated throughout the halls, snapping his alert eyes open.

Roman stood up groggily from his couch.

"Why the fuck would they bother me!" Roman seethed. He hoped his men interrupted him for good reason.

He walked briskly to the gate's monitor and pressed the red button, ready to cut somebody the fuck out! His grey eyes flashed to the screen monitor attached above it. He saw a woman's silhouette and instantly his heartbeat faltered.

Opposite from the fucking Grim Reaper!

The woman was Scarlett. Bringing life within his rigid heart on this deadly day.

He stared at the monitor for a moment, taking the breath-taking vision he couldn't believe he was seeing. She came to him, he thought. She's here in front of his mansion. He felt uneasy. He didn't want her to see him bruised and injured. It made him weak. And he be damned if she saw him that way.