Page 12 of From Best To Bested

“Don’t think this is a free pass,” a guard said, shoving Roman toward the warden’s office. “Just know I’ve got money on you getting your ass beat.”

“In more ways than one.” The second guard laughed, taunting smile, and hand on his baton. “My question is: are you jealous your boyfriend is sucking off the new champion, or are you hoping Ezra’s dick is bigger than that faggot you’re currently bending over for?”

Roman knew he shouldn’t. He knew he already had too many enemies. He knew they’d brought him to the warden’s so Sadler could ream him a new one and threaten him with solitary. He knew pissing off the guards without having the title of champion to force them off was a foolish, foolish thing. Still, nothing pissed him off more than when someone talked about Levi in a derogatory way.

Roman laughed with the oafish guard, then headbutted him until he keeled over. When the second guard went to reach for his weapon, Roman squared up and figured he could probably take these two before backup arrived and beat him to a pulp.

The door swung open and made the entire possibility moot. Ezra stood there, gaze fixed on the guards who left without a word or protest.

“Picking fights everywhere you go,” Ezra said with a grin. “Figured you might try to get yourself locked up before our big rematch.”

“Excuse me?” Roman snapped, offended at the accusation.

“Can’t lose to me if you’re in solitary, right?” Ezra batted his lashes. “But I’ve already had a word with our astute warden, and honestly, he’d probably let you set this place on fire and still keep the rematch scheduled.”

Good alternative option. For a few seconds, Roman let his mind run wild with the fantasy of starting a fire and a riot and then just escaping Marlow Penitentiary. In his daydreams, he didn’t have to worry about manhunts or predators or additional charges. Nope. For just a few seconds, he was sipping cocktails on an island that didn’t extradite or cost more than a few pennies to live well. He sighed as his daydream fizzled out under the weight of reality.

Ezra ushered Roman into the warden’s office, where the man sat at his desk, writing a report clearly marked for Roman’s file.

“I was a bit disappointed to learn that Ezra agreed to the rematch,” Warden Sadler said. “Honestly, the chance of you getting back your title makes me sick.”

“Wishing you would’ve gotten rid of me while you had the chance?” Roman asked with a bit more bluster than he thought he could manage, but he refused to squirm in front of the warden.

He was quite shocked Warden Sadler hadn’t made a move on him. Perhaps he expected Roman to be dealt with by the gangs who no longer feared him or the guards who no longer had to tolerate him. In either case, he considered himself fortunate that the warden hadn’t swooped in with swift vengeance. And so long as Roman reclaimed his title, Warden Sadler would never be able to touch him.

“Personally, I rather like the bet you two have.” Warden Sadler glanced between Roman and Ezra. “Maybe he’ll fuck some manners into you.”

Roman scowled, ready to lunge forward and break the warden’s nose for a second time.

Ezra placed a hand on Roman’s knee, steadying the tremble, likely confusing it for fear on Roman’s part instead of an all-consuming rage held in check by little more than Roman’s count backward from a hundred.

“That’s the plan.” Ezra smiled. “Give him a second chance, let him realize he never stood a chance, and then take him to bed since he’s so desperate to get fucked.”

Roman knocked away Ezra’s hand.

“What?” Ezra’s smile grew. “You’re the one who came to me with the bet.”

“Not surprising,” Warden Sadler said with a scoff, having always considered Roman’s friendship with Levi more than a friendship.

Roman knew that much, and he didn’t care about the whispers. Levi was the only consistent thing in Roman’s life since he arrived at Marlow Penitentiary. He was the only one who had Roman’s back before he became the champion. Levi had taken beatings to protect Roman from crews like Jake Finnegan’s, people who saw a mouthy young man in need of some correctional justice correcting.

“I’m only here because of Levi,” Roman said.

“Yeah, I caught that.” Warden Sadler rolled his eyes.

“He’s my friend, and I want to ensure that you uphold the deal.” Roman glared. “I don’t give a shit about the champion title, but you will leave Levi alone, keep Jake and Ezra and anyone else away from him.”

“Just friends, huh?” Ezra chuckled. “The lady doth protest too much, methinks.”

Roman turned his glare onto Ezra.

“Now, I see why you offered your ass up,” Ezra said matter-of-factly, unfazed by Roman’s rage. “Must be itching for a real man.”

“Are we done here?” Roman stood.

“We are,” Warden Sadler said. “You should consider yourself lucky you’ll have the protection of champion no matter how this turns out.”

A threat and a reminder that Warden Sadler wanted nothing more than to destroy Roman Grayson. He left the office with the weight of the world on his chest, making each breath more difficult. Between the gangs and guards who hated him, the dangers presented to Levi, the precarious war he waged with the warden, and the threat of Ezra beating him again, Roman couldn’t focus.

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