Series: The Rossi Crime Family Series by J.L. Beck
Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 80475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Seconds tick by. Roman throws a right hook that sends the guy’s form sprawling to the floor. His eyeballs roll to the back of his head, his torso almost lifeless. Roman kneels on top of the man, a knee on his chest, and continues to punch him. Strike after strike, until his hands are covered in blood and the man’s face no longer looks like a face. My stomach churns, bile rising into my throat.
I just watched the one man I feel can protect me kill someone in cold blood—for fun—sport. When Roman stands and lifts one of his blood-covered fists into the air, all hell breaks loose around me. The noise level reaches a new high as they announce Roman as the winner. My head starts to throb. I lift my hand to my swollen cheek and hiss as my fingers make contact.
I pray Roman isn’t mad at me for trying to save him, but the thought of losing him over something so stupid overwhelmed me. With a hand wrapped around my arm, Mac starts to lead me toward the locker rooms. I want to fight and break free of his hold and find Roman, but I don’t dare, not after what I’ve done.
“I don’t know what the hell you were thinking,” Mac huffs, forcing me to sit on the wooden bench in the locker room.
Worry creases his forehead as he inspects my cheek, prodding at the flesh.
“He’s going to be so fucking mad at you, it’s not even funny. You made a scene, love—a scene at a very well-known underground fight club. I mean, you’re lucky all you got was a bruised cheek and a tiny scratch.”
I blink, gulping around the knot of fear forming in my throat when a roar of anger fills the room. Mac stands protectively over me as if he’s worried Roman may hurt me. For a second, I am as well. He appears around the corner, his huge body racing toward me.
His gray eyes are black. His chest heaves up and down. A mixture of blood and sweat glides down his muscled chest. I want to run to him and wrap my arms around him, but at the same time, I want to run for the door.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” he screams, his entire body shaking with rage as he steps into my bubble. Fear tickles the forefront of my mind, but it’s not really fear I’m feeling right in this moment. It’s anger. Angry he would bring me to an event like this and make me watch him kill a man. Angry he would risk his life for a little bit of money, which surely, he doesn’t need.
Instead of giving him what he wants, I shove up onto my feet and pull back my hand, slapping him straight across his bloodied cheek. A sting of pain lances across my palm, but the sting is a dull ache compared to the other emotions swirling inside me.
Hurt, and anger, being the biggest two.
“What were you thinking? You don’t get to come in here and ask me what I was thinking. I was worried about you. I asked you to take me home, not bring me to this stupid fight, and you brought me anyway. Tonight is all on you, Roman.” I’m surprised by my outburst, but I’m not backing down not.
I cross my arms over my chest to make myself look bigger, not that there’s any point. There’s no way I am going to intimidate this man, but I also refuse to be intimidated. Roman rubs over where I slapped him, and I almost smile with gratification.
“Mac, leave us,” he orders. Mac’s gaze moves from me back to Roman.
“I don’t think…” Mac doesn’t even get to finish before Roman steps into his face, pushing his chest against his.
“I didn’t fucking ask. I told you to leave. You aren’t her fucking gatekeeper—that’s me. Get the fuck out.” Roman’s body shakes.
Mac gives me an apologetic look before moving around Roman and slipping out the door, leaving me all alone with him. The air grows thick with tension, nearly taking my breath. Silence drones on as Roman stares at me.
“I want to throttle you. Shake the fucking shit right out of you,” he grits out.
“And I want to do the same to you,” I growl, feeling a slice of his anger slam into me. He walks right up to me, his gaze on my bruised cheek.
“You realize you could’ve been killed. Anyone who gets in that ring knows what the hell they’re getting into. One punch is nothing compared to how bad it could’ve been.”
I do know this, but the thought of possibly losing him, of him just lying there dying…I couldn’t let it happen.
“I know it could’ve been worse, but at least it got you moving. I wasn’t going to stand there like the rest of these idiots and watch you kill yourself.”