Chapter 1
Roman
I hate this!
It’s the same damn thing five days a damn week and it never seems to get less monotonous.
I wake up, shower, get dressed, drive my ass to school, get coffee from the little shop across the street then go sit through seven shitty classes where people either gossip about the schools resident “bad boy”, Roman Cross, or they act like they’re afraid I’m going to shank them if they get too close.
Okay, so maybe I’ve earned that last one…just a little.
Sure, I’ve been in my fair share of trouble and I participate in illegal fights that are held at the shady ass gym on the outskirts of town, the one owned by my dad’s friend Max, but these people act like I’m the damn devil when they don’t even know me.
There’s no denying it…the people in this school, teachers included, are afraid of me.
So, maybe I’ve lost my temper and beat the shit out of a few people, but that doesn’t make me a bad guy, right?
My friends, all three of them, don’t think so.
Granted, I’ve known Max since I was in diapers when he was training under my dad and he pretty much got accepted into the family right away, so I guess he’s not exactly a friend…more friend-adjacent.
Logan, Max’s younger brother, has been a friend since seventh grade, but I don’t see him as much these days with him going to a different school in a different town.
Then there’s Megan, the barista at the coffee shop across from the high school.
She’s one of those friends that you don’t know how the hell you became friends, but you’re damn glad you did.
I’ve just pulled into my usual spot at the back of the student parking lot and immediately head over to get a coffee, walking into the shop to be greeted by my favorite barista slash friend, Megan.
I place my usual order then hand over the money to cover it before moving to the other end of the counter.
I’m lost in my own thoughts when I hear a soft piano melody fill the air and my eyes quickly track the noise until I spot the piano on the far end of the small stage where a petite girl is sitting, her back to me and her long, straight, dark brown hair is blocking her face from view.
“Roman!” Megan’s voice has me whipping around to see her holding out my coffee with an amused smile on her face.
“Oh, thanks.” She chuckles softly as I take my coffee from her, but she speaks again before I can turn to leave.
“She’s good, isn’t she?” I glance back at the small girl then nod in agreement.
“Yeah, she is. I’ve never seen anyone actually use the instruments here. I kind of figured they were just for show, like decorations or some shit.” I toss a smirk her way and she just shrugs.
I know they do open mic nights here, but I’ve never been to one.
Hell, I doubt Megan has either since she seems to run with the same crowds I do.
I see her at most of the fights and she’s always hanging on her girlfriend.
“She shows up here every morning, but it’s usually right when we open. I’ve never actually seen her here this late in the morning. I’ve got to say, this is the first time I’ve heard her play though. Usually, she drinks her coffee at the table in the corner while drawing in her sketchbook.” She tilts her chin toward the aforementioned table where a sketchbook and a backpack sit.
“Shit, she looks young…too damn young to be surviving off coffee every morning.” Megan seems to find my comment thoroughly amusing, even going as far as to snort out a soft laugh.
“Damn, you high school boys really aren’t observant. She’s a senior, Rome. She’s in my brother’s art class.” I look back at the girl, my eyes narrowed as I try to run through the images of anyone I may have seen with the few features of hers that I can see, but I’ve got nothing.
This girl couldn’t be more than five foot flat and looks like she’s rail thin, though the oversized hoodie she’s wearing makes it hard to tell for sure.
I bet that, if she stood up, she’d be about the same size as my twelve year old sister, Becca.
“Never seen her before.” I shrug as I take a drink of my coffee.
Megan glances at her watch then looks over my shoulder at the girl and smiles.
“Drea! You’ve got twenty minutes, hon.” The girl pushes the bench back and stands up, quickly confirming my suspicion about her size.
The hoodie she’s wearing looks to be two sizes too big now that she’s standing, but when she turns, the only thing I can focus on is the pale silverish grey color of her eyes.
“Thanks, Meg.” She flashes a shy smile to Megan as she hurries over to the table, grabs her things and heads for the door.
“She’s a senior? In high school?” Megan nods, clearly finding my disbelief amusing.
“Yeah, she is.” I don’t have time to focus on the small woman anymore since I have less than twenty minutes until the first bell will ring.
I say goodbye to Megan and head back to my car to get my bag then head inside.
I go straight to my locker and damn near trip over my own feet when I see her…two lockers down from mine.
I swallow down my shock and walk up to my locker, quickly opening it and switching out my books as an unfortunately familiar, high-pitched voice speaks from just on the other side of my locker door.
“Well, if it isn’t the midget freak. So, you still going around sketching people without their permission? I bet you use that shit to get yourself off, don’t you? Yeah, I bet you’re a perverted little freak.” That would be Sara Masters, the queen bitch of the school.
Just like everyone else here, she’s afraid of me.
I never step in and stand up for people, so I have no idea what comes over me when I slam my locker door closed and see the small girl standing with her sketch book held tight against her chest and her head lowered.
“Sara, I’ll only say this once. She’s off limits. Go fuck with someone else.” I growl the words out in my usual, menacing tone which has Sara stumbling back, but the little thing doesn’t so much as flinch.
“Whatever. She’s not worth it.” I watch Sara stomp away then turn my attention to the girl beside me, the one whose head is even with my chest.
“You good?” I doubt the way I grunt out the words makes her feel inclined to answer, yet I’m momentarily stunned when she does.
“Yeah. Thanks, Roman.” And…she knows my name?
What the hell?
I shake off the shock of that little detail and head to my first class.
The rest of my day goes by fairly quickly, but that’s usually the case on days when I have a fight on the books.
Tonight, I’m set to fight one of the only other undefeated fighters in my weight class, with a record boasting two wins more than mine.
Getting ready for my fights has become a ritual that begins with a shower and then I head to the gym around seven and focus on stretching and, on the days where I feel more tense than usual, I might even meditate.
Once I’ve finished with my ritual, I make my way up to the balcony overlooking the ring, preparing to watch the first two fights from my perch above the masses.
I don’t ‘people watch’, never have, yet I somehow find my eyes instantly drawn to the petite creature standing beside Megan right by the cage, watching as the first two fighters enter the ring.
Every time I’ve seen the small thing so far, she seems so shy and quiet, even when she spoke this morning, her voice was barely more than a whisper.
I have no doubt that’s why my brain is short circuiting when I hear her screaming obscenities at one of the fighters, Cobra.
His opponent for the night is a fighter I know well, Megan’s older brother, Jackson “Jack Hammer” Lewis.
The fight is brutal, but when Jackson fights, it always is.
He takes Cobra down by landing a left jab immediately followed by a right hook halfway through the first round.
Megan and the little thing are screaming so loud that I can hear them over the crowd, but my attention goes to Jackson who makes his way to them and pulls Megan into him with his right arm and the small thing with his left.
He says something to them that has both of them bursting out laughing then Megan follows him to the locker room while the little thing remains in her spot, eagerly watching as the next fighters walk into the ring to start their match.
While the second match is taking place, I head down to the pen, the place where the fighters gather to wait for their match to be called.
I tune everything out, letting my mind clear until I hear my name called through the loudspeaker.
I make my way to the ring, knowing damn well that this won’t be an easy fight.
I always keep my focus on my opponent, but this time…my eyes lock onto those silver eyes with laser focus and I see the flash of shock before her lips slowly curl into a smile that damn near knocks the breath out of me.
When they call my opponent’s name…The Reaper…my attention snaps back to the big bastard in the other corner.
The guy is a few inches taller than me and built like a brick shit house, but he’s not the first guy his size to fight me and I still haven’t lost a match yet.
I stretch my neck to the left then the right, take a deep breath and exhale just as the bell rings.
