Page 63 of From Best To Bested

“That’s okay.”

“I don’t want that.” Roman gestured to Levi’s body, to his everything. “But maybe. Maybe later. A lot later. I don’t know, and I do know it’s not fair to make you figure it out with me—”

“I am completely fine with waiting and wondering,” Levi said, tilting his head but not leaning in, not invading Roman’s space, and that was a comfort he’d completely forgotten about. “I am fine following this journey wherever it goes. If it was justone little kiss, that’s cool. I’m pretty damn kissable, so really, everyone has to try my lips out at least once.”

“I’ve been told the same.” Roman snorted. “Well, not for my kisses.”

Levi’s entire face went rigid like the words Roman had spoken tore a hole in the floor. Then, without missing a beat, he burst into laughter and mimed himself handing over his comedy crown.

“Seriously, dude. Trauma jokes are all yours.”

The pair turned the champion’s suite into something livable again. Roman couldn’t forget all the horrible things he’d done, everything he’d survived in this space, but he also remembered all the silly things he and Levi would do to pass the long hours. And he cherished the new memories Levi helped him build each day, helping wash away the unwanted thoughts and the nightmares piece by tiny piece.

After Ezra’s defeat, the arena was closed while the warden dealt with the incident. Ezra hadn’t died, but he hadn’t woken up either. Roman hated himself a little bit, but he hoped Ezra never woke up. He didn’t think he could face him again and wasn’t sure how long this spark of courage and strength would last.

Levi made it bearable standing on his own two feet again, always acting as a buffer when they left their cell, always ready to provide a carefree distraction, always there to shake away the nightmares that would hit Roman at any given moment for any given reason.

When the time came to return to the arena, Roman wouldn’t. He could. He could force himself to fight down there the same way he’d forced himself to submit to Ezra, the same way he’d forced himself to do everything he’d done since the day he arrived at Marlow Penitentiary. But he didn’t want to swallow his nerves and do what had to be done to survive.

Levi accepted that and never brought it up again. There was only one match-up after Roman surrendered his title unceremoniously by refusing to show. Unfortunately, a fire broke out on the balcony above, taking out several members of the Lawless Authority, and the underground arena had been exposed to the world.

Marlow Penitentiary had the nation’s eyes locked onto their facility when the news got out, and the warden had far too many questions to deal with that he never had the chance to taunt or scold or threaten Roman for refusing to return.

The champion was done. The title burned to ash. The arena left barren.

“Did you…” Roman quirked a brow, never officially asking Levi the question, but certain of the answer.

Levi had a cigarette the evening the arena caught fire. For a man who didn’t care for cigarettes or vices of any kind since beating his own addictions, Roman had seen him with a smoke twice in his life. Both times after Marlow Penitentiary caught fire.

Warden Sadler didn’t last long as the head of this prison. Too many questions. Too many scandals. Too many deaths. He was put on administrative leave and given a chance to fade away without his pension. Warden Sadler returned to Marlow Penitentiary one time and went to retrieve his things, twenty-seven years of service summed up in a few trophies and one box, but the news of his final farewell spread almost as quickly as the fires Levi may or may not have set.

After a tumble down a flight of stairs, Warden Sadler was rushed to the hospital but declared dead by the time EMTs got him out of the parking lot. It wasn’t the fall that’d done him in, but the way he fell onto one of the trophies. The sharp glass edge impaled his neck during the fall.

“Did you, you know?” Roman mimed stabbing himself in the neck multiple times until Levi caught the not-so-subtle hint.

“Seriously?”

“What?” Roman shrugged. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“You stab one person one time—”

“Forty-eight times,” Roman corrected.

“One person in one instance, and suddenly every mishap with gravity is blamed on you.” Levi dramatically threw his hands up in defeat and then slapped his thighs.

Roman squinted, a playfully suspicious expression that he finally broke with a tiny smile. One that grew so much bigger when Levi tickled him. Levi didn’t often engage contact first, but when he did, it never went further than a handhold, a pinky touch, a tickle above the waist and outside the clothing, and that made Roman crave those tiny embraces a little more each day.

He didn’t know if Levi really had done something to Warden Sadler—how could he pull it off to begin with—or if it really was just a terrible accident. More importantly, Roman wasn’t sure which he wanted it to be. If Levi would go to such lengths for Roman and Roman fantasized about the possibilities, what did that say about him? What did it say about either of them?

Roman mostly ignored those thoughts and focused on Levi’s sweet smiles, his carefree nature, and his genuine kindness. Even if there was darkness in Levi, it wasn’t the same as Ezra’s. Roman never once saw hate or malice or disgust in Levi’s eyes. Not for him and not for anyone they crossed paths with, and Roman paid very close attention. He’d learned to study every shift in the person who he trusted most. Ezra had taught him that lesson along with so many more he hoped would fade over time.

Inmates started being transferred from Marlow Penitentiary until the alleged allegations of corruption could be investigated. Roman panicked. He didn’t care about starting over, about thenew obstacles, the new dangers. He’d done all that before and suspected he’d continue facing challenges for the rest of his life. But he couldn’t imagine being transferred somewhere without Levi. Not yet, anyway. He still needed his friend, still needed the light and hope and happiness he brought into Roman’s life. The gentle patience and unyielding willingness to settle for just a friendly hug or touch when the rare occasion hit Roman.

Thankfully, Roman and Levi were shipped further upstate together, along with a few dozen other familiar faces. It was a real opportunity for change. Unfortunately, some inmates still remembered Roman’s very public fall from grace and the things he subjected himself to just to survive. It wouldn’t take long for the men at Kleinfield Prison Complex to see how easy and breakable Roman would be there.

After two chatty inmates had very bloody accidents, everyone else who knew Roman during his stay at Marlow Penitentiary suddenly had difficulty recalling what and how they knew him. This made it easier for Roman and Levi to slip by unnoticed. Kleinfield Prison Complex didn’t carry nearly as much animosity between their inmates, and Roman actually managed to carve out a bit of his old self during his time there.

He didn’t feel sane, and he wasn’t sure he ever would again, but he did feel safe. It’d taken years of quiet recovery and talking with the therapists at Kleinfield—occasionally talking. There was so much Roman never wanted to unpack, and he still found himself wary about trusting staff. No matter how polite and sincere, Roman spent several years waiting for the secret horrors of Kleinfield Prison Complex to be revealed. There were none. The facility was far from great, and there were some definite scumbags on the payroll, but overall, this place didn’t make every waking moment miserable.

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