Page 104 of Dark Romeo

It was late by the time I returned home. There was only a small parking lot for my apartment building. It was first come, first served—the price you paid for inner city living. Tonight, it was full—not surprising for a Friday night—so I had to park a few blocks away. A single streetlight dribbled a pool of sickly light onto the gritty pavement as I locked my car, tucked my keys and phone into my pocket. I was tired and confused, my insides warring with each other about my father and Roman.

“Spare change, miss?”

A figure hunched over limped towards me, a hood covering his face.

“Sorry,” I said and began to turn away.

He let out a small moan and bent over, almost collapsing. Was he sick or just drunk? Either way, I couldn’t just leave him.

“Hey, are you okay?” I lunged towards him, my arms out in case he fell.

An arm grabbed me from behind and a hand clamped down on my mouth, hot, stale breath curdling the air over my left shoulder. I reacted without thinking, all my training kicking in. Keeping my elbow close to my body, I jabbed my thumb back over my left shoulder. I felt the soft give of his eye. He let out a scream and leaned back out of instinct. At the same time, I tucked my body around, away from the elbow of the arm that clasped my mouth, causing his hand to slide off me, leaving him wide open. I slammed the heel of my left hand into his balls. He made a wheezing noise, letting go of me as he bent over himself. I slammed my heel down on his instep and snapped an elbow to his bulbous nose, hearing a satisfying crack. He let out a scream. That’ll teach him to pick on someone his own size.

The click of a gun being cocked back made the blood freeze in my veins. The “homeless” man straightened, holding a pistol out in front of him. I realized then he had been a ruse. These two had been working together.

“Freeze or I’ll shoot.” I didn’t recognize his voice. Or at least, I didn’t think so. I assessed the man standing in front of me—his face hidden in the shadows of his hood—then the barrel of his gun. Even if he wasn’t a crack shot I was too close for him to miss. I gritted my teeth and lifted my hands up in surrender. I had to pick my battles. Bide my time.

The countless homicide scenes, lifeless women with their clothes torn and underwear missing flashed through my mind. I shoved those images aside. They probably just wanted my wallet. Losing a few hundred dollars in cash was better than ending up dead. “You want my wallet? Just take it.”

The man with the gun laughed. “It’s not your wallet we want.”

A shiver of fear went through me.

The guy behind me moaned. “Bitch broke my nose.” He grabbed me and spun me. His fist clocked me in the chin. Pain burst through my head as I stumbled back. I landed hard on my wrists, my knees bruising. My head spun from the punch. I scrambled away. I didn’t get very far. Bloody Nose grabbed me and shoved me onto my back. He slammed his body down on me, pinning me down. His hips digging painfully into my lower belly. Bile rose in my throat from his heavy, unwanted weight on me. I could smell the sourness of his breath.

He grinned, showing off the blood staining his crooked teeth and over his cracked lips. “We should have a bit of fun with her before we take her to the boss.”

The boss? This was not a random attack. Someone had sent these two after me, specifically. They had been the ones watching me earlier, not Roman.

His forearm jammed into my throat cutting off my oxygen. He jammed his knee between my legs and his beefy rough hand thrust between my legs, tearing at my skirt. I tried to scream but all I managed to get out was a choked cry. Any trace of humanity had fled from his uneven bug-eyes. I shoved, scratched, beat, yanked at his forearm to no avail. Air. I needed air.

“Hold her down,” Bloody Nose said.

The man with a gun slipped it into the back of his pants as he strode towards me. I heard chuckling as he crouched over me. He grabbed my arms and yanked them above my head, stretching me out like I was on a torture rack. I was exposed. Bloody Nose tore at my panties, his dirty fingernails scraping my skin. Panic slammed against my ribcage. I kicked out. I tried to scream. My struggling only seemed to please him, only served to grind more dirt into me from the gritty ground.

My jaw throbbed. My lungs felt raw from clawing for air. Stars sparkled in front of my vision. I was losing consciousness. At least I would not be awake while they took turns violating me.

Suddenly his forearm was gone. I sucked in air into my burning lungs. He was gone. He’d been pulled off me by a third man, his wide frame encased in a black Everclear hoodie, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, and dark jeans. Everclear smashed his fist in Bloody Nose’s face as he roared. “Nobody touches her, you son of a bitch.”

The familiar voice sank into my bones and hit me in my gut.

Roman?

Relief flooded my body. I had never been so damn happy to see anybody before.

I heard the crack of bones and Bloody Nose went limp. He fell to the ground, lifeless.

The man holding my arms down let go of me, fumbling for the gun in the back of his pants as Roman charged towards him, knocking him off his feet. They tumbled to the ground. Roman pinned my attacker down. He smashed his fist into Gun Man’s face and ribs, the sound of hard flesh against wet bloody flesh and the crack of bones filled the air. All of Roman’s calm, cold facade had gone. The leash he kept on this part of himself had been unchained. Dear God, he wasn’t going to stop.

I rolled to my feet, wincing at my bruises, and ran over to him. “Stop it, Roman, you’re going to kill him.” I grabbed his arm, trying to pull him back. It was like trying to yank back an oak branch.

He whipped around to me and leapt to his feet, leaving the man a bloodied mess on the ground. Roman’s hoodie fell around his neck so I could see his face now, thick lips pulled back, teeth bared, eyes wild, flecks of blood splattered across his sharp cheekbones. “They were going to rape you.”

I swallowed hard. “I’m fine. Just a bruise or two.”

His wild aggressiveness should scare me. His ability for violence should have me scurrying back. For some stupid reason I wanted to lean closer, mesmerized by the heaving of his thick chest and the way his clenched fists were making his forearm muscles stand out in brutal definition.

Roman stepped right up to me and cupped my cheek. His touch was gentle yet firm, the warmth sending a shiver up my spine. I could smell his familiar cedar cologne mixed in with masculine sweat. He tilted up my head to inspect the damage to my jaw. “The fucker,” he muttered under his breath. “I could kill him.”

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