Page 9 of From Best To Bested

“Fine,” he said. “But only because the champion is feeling charitable.”

Roman clenched his teeth at that, biting back a snarl. Ezra did him favors, let him watch a bout he couldn’t participate in. Not unless Roman had something to stake.

He’d hoped the event would spark some further insight into his predicament. Some of the fights were entertaining, at the very least, but nothing helped him. Maybe when Ezra finally stepped up after the preliminary matches, Roman would see something, learn something he could exploit.

The Challenger’s Chance had finally arrived, but Roman didn’t have anything to offer, anything to convince Ezra to accept his rematch. Roman considered taunting him, baiting the crowd into an effort to call Ezra a coward, but decided against it. They seemed to like his reign so much more than Roman’s. He didn’t set expectations for anyone except to leave him alone. They could be as cruel and spiteful as they wanted. They could abuse other inmates uncontested. They could give into their vices without reprimand.

Levi approached Roman, seemingly taking advantage of Ezra’s pending battle and torn attention.

“You came?” Levi asked, poorly attempting small talk.

“I did.” Roman sighed. “I’m trying to figure out how to get Ezra to agree to a rematch. Don’t suppose you have ideas?”

Levi shook his head.

“Just think about it,” Roman insisted. “You probably know more about him than anyone else, bunking together.”

Levi clenched his jaw and shook his head harder, not wanting to betray Ezra’s confidence, which deeply saddened Roman.

“What’s happened to you?”

“Ezra’s a strict person.” Levi didn’t offer more than that, but Roman couldn’t simply accept the standard by line.

“Has he…” Roman swallowed the words, the question he wanted to ask, the answer he knew in his heart but desperately wanted to hold out hope for.

“He hasn’t forced himself on me,” Levi answered, and the relief that hit Roman was almost enough to make him fly. “And I haven’t accepted his friendship.”

“What?”

“He wants me to accept his friendship,” Levi explained. “To give myself willingly, to choose to submit.”

That was a first. Levi had been approached by plenty of inmates over the years because of his open sexuality, and very few offered a choice when telling him what they wanted. Levi would politely explain he was a top, add to the fact he was quite picky about the cocks he shoved in his mouth, and then try to break the tension of a threat with the levity of humor.

It never worked in his favor. Levi would get his ass kicked, but thanks to Roman, he never got his ass fucked. Roman always stepped in, always fought Levi’s battles because the worst of the men always seemed to come in droves for Levi, picking on some vulnerable, easy gay guy who needed a real man’s attention.

When Roman became champion, no one bothered Levi ever again. Now, Roman sank into the horrible realization that Levi would have to fight for his life, his body, every day until Roman could offer him real protection. Roman couldn’t even protect himself right now. Not really.

“What happens if you don’t accept his friendship?” Roman asked, watching Ezra drop his first opponent and demand a second.

“He said his cell is for friends only, and maybe I could relocate somewhere I’d be happier.” Levi’s face began to crumble. He fought it so hard, willing the tears back, but Roman saw him about to collapse into devastating sadness. “He suggested the warden could transfer me to Finnegan’s cell.”

Roman’s entire body froze. Jake “the Snake” Finnegan would destroy Levi. He’d break him and hollow out everything left of Levi until all that remained was a strung-out husk of a man, unable to think or speak, only serve the vicious crew that funneled drugs throughout Marlow Penitentiary.

“He’s a fucking psycho,” Roman snapped, balling his fists and fighting every urge in him not to walk into the arena mid-fight and deck Ezra.

“Yeah,” Levi scoffed, more somber than angry. “Hence why I’m scared. Jake’s been making comments, teasing. It’s gonna fuck up my sobriety, and I don’t know if I even care.”

“Maybe you should be Ezra’s friend.” Roman gritted his teeth, hating himself for the suggestion but truly believing that if he couldn’t protect Levi, then at the very least, Ezra could and would.

He’d make for the better option than Jake any day.

“Considered it,” Levi admitted, guilt and shame making his face turn even more pitiful. “But I’m just a game piece to Ezra. He’d grow tired of me within a few days of my submission, a few weeks if I were lucky. Then I’d be exactly where I am now.”

“What do you mean?”

“Everything he’s doing, the way he talks when we’re alone, is directed toward you.” Levi turned his face, hiding behind his hair while admitting he talked about Roman behind his back, or at the very least allowed Ezra to talk while he listened. “He wantsyou, Roman. Wants to take everything you hold value for and destroy it.”

Roman scowled.

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