Page 146 of Forbidden Romeo

Connor grunts as he feels my weight on top of me but does nothing to block me as my fist collides with his face again. And again.

“This is from Graham.”

I spit at him between blows. Blood starts pouring from his nose, his split lip. My knuckles turn red.

Vaguely I’m aware that someone is trying to pull me off. But I push them away. I hear a rib crack, then another. Pain and rage. That’s all I can hear, all I cansmell.

“This is for Graham,” I hear myself saying.

Connor keeps slipping in and out of consciousness. Not good enough. He needs to know why he’s dying. He needs to know what he has done.

I grab him on the shoulders and shake him awake. Only one of his eyes opens. Good enough.

“This is for Graham!”

I punch him to the floor. His head bounces on impact.

That’s when I hear it.

Through the pain and the rage and the revenge, a single voice calls out my name.

Broken, hoarse.

Crying. She’s crying.

“Jack! Please! Stop!” Aimee sobs.

I don’t know when she made her way down to the ring. I don’t know how much she saw, but she sees me now. The monster is about to murder her brother.

I can’t take my eyes off her. Radiant, like an angel in mourning, uncaring about anything else in the world except what is happening in this ring. WhatIam doing in this ring.

I’m hurting her.

With every punch, every bone I break of Connor’s, I hurt her.

My hands finally hesitate.

Reality begins to crash down around me. The concerned cries of the crowd, theDead Eyesencouraging me to finish the job. I glance up at the VIP box. Padraic hasn’t moved an inch. His stony, white face tells me one thing: I was not supposed to survive this. I meet his eyes and feel my face pull into a feral grin.Pray that I die, old man. Because I am coming for you.

“Jack, please,” Aimee says again.

Her voice is like a beacon; I’m so helplessly drawn to it. I scramble off the unconscious man and begin crawling to her. My adrenaline ebbs, and my limbs are suddenly spent with the effort it took to take him down.

But the darkness is behind me, and Aimee is there in front of me. Reaching her arm out encouragingly.

We could run away now, start our own life a thousand miles away. We could be safe together; we’d survive this.

“I’m sorry,” I manage to get out, still crawling pathetically.

“It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry.”

I’m almost there. Almost to the cool touch that will soothe my anger, and the cool mind that will back me to the hilt. She reaches out. “It’s-”

Terror suddenly flashes over Aimee’s face.

“Jack!”

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