Tame Me (Broken Heroes 5)

It’s like a well-choreographed dance of strength. I hold my breath every time the other guy’s fist whizzes past Roman’s face, and I cringe, peeking through my fingers. Roman isn’t quick enough and takes a hit right under his jaw. His head snaps back, and before he can move out of the way or protect his face, the other guy follows up with another hit, landing his fist right into Roman’s eye.

My heart stops.

I can’t lose him.

I can’t.

I’m about to start screaming at the top of my lungs, about to tell the announcer to end the fight, when Roman moves to the side and maneuvers away from his opponent. I suck in a small breath. Nervous energy fills my pores, and I find myself bouncing on the balls of my feet.

“Relax, babe. Everything is going to be okay,” Mac says, trying to reassure me, but he doesn’t understand how nerve-racking this is for me. My teeth grind together and my muscles tense, fear coating my insides. The crowd erupts around us, making it hard for me to hear myself think or see Roman.

When the crowd winds down, I’m able to watch as Roman gets a few good jabs in and three hefty hits to the guy’s face. Blood oozes from a small cut under Roman’s right eye and his jaw is already starting to swell.

My gaze moves to his opponent, who is looking far worse. A twisting in my gut tells me something bad is about to happen. I brace myself for it when I watch with fear as Roman staggers back after taking another hit to the jaw. His body sags against the ropes only a few feet away from us. He’s so close, I could reach out and touch him if I really wanted to.

The other guy continues to pound his huge fists into Roman’s face, and I bite my lip to stop the scream threatening to escape my throat. The slapping of knuckles against flesh fills my ears. Roman doesn’t even hold his hands up to protect himself anymore. It’s like he’s lost his strength—or worse…he’s giving up.

I glance over to Mac, then Devin. Neither of them look the least bit concerned. What the heck is wrong with everybody? Do they take pleasure in seeing their friend hurt? What would happen if he did die? I look back up at Roman. Blood is smeared across his face. His opponent is like a shark that got a taste of blood. He just keeps striking, again and again, gaining the upper-hand with each hit.

All my life, I’ve watched people get beaten down, hurt. Looking at the man in the ring and knowing he could amount to so much more makes something inside me snap. I can’t let him kill himself. Not today. Not right in front of me.

Without thinking, I place my foot on the edge of the ring, grab hold of the first row of ropes, and pull myself up. Mac and Devin are yelling behind me, and someone grabs me by the waist, attempting to pull me backwards. I wiggle out of their strong hold and scurry into the ring. With superhuman strength, I hold onto the rope with one hand and push the guy off Roman with the other. My heart races, the sounds inside this basement have become deafening. I’m terrified, but I also feel this overwhelming need to protect—to save Roman.

More hands grab at me from behind, trying to pull me down and out of the ring, but I hold on just long enough to shove the asshole as hard as I can. I grit my teeth and put every ounce of strength into the push. But I soon realize my strength isn’t enough because instead of staggering backwards like I had hoped. I end up tilting his body enough to move the trajectory of his next punch away from Roman’s face.

Pain erupts across the side of my face and my body sways, falling back into the crowd behind me.

For a few seconds, everything goes dark. Silence settles around me. But then someone’s hands are grabbing onto me, holding me up, forcing me onto my legs. Prying my eyes back open, I immediately search for Roman through the crowd. When I look up at him, our eyes meet. For a fraction of a second, I see the man who was in the cell the day he took me. Then, it’s gone. His eyes become so wild and feral, I don’t recognize them as Romans. He looks more animal than human. There’s an uncontainable fury lurking just below the surface. The sight of him has ice crystals forming in my blood.

Roman turns to his opponent, and with a flash of fury and unforeseen strength, he starts to rain down punches on him. The other guy doesn’t even have room to retaliate. Roman is like a machine, delivering one precise jab after the other, hitting him right where it counts. With each punch, he gains strength, his teeth bared, eyes as dark as the midnight sky.