Page 72 of Rage


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Nothing wrong with an honest day’s work.

The thought left him cold and uninspired, but it would be worth it to put an end to the destruction his takeover was raining down on everyone in its path.

“You ready for a fight?” Kellen shouted on the other side of the door.

The crowd roared.

“That’s what I thought!” Kellen said into the mic. “So tell me what you want!”

“Blood!”

“Fuck yeah! You hear that fighters?” He directed the question to Roman and Roman’s opponent, preparing for the fight in another room. “They want blood!”

“We want blood!” the crowd chanted. “We want blood! We want blood!”

The irony of a bunch of Wall Street bros who’d never fought a day in their lives chanting for blood with women who probably had to get themselves off after their men went to sleep wasn’t lost on Roman.

“Let’s meet our first fighter,” Kellen shouted. “It’sssss… Wolverine!”

Roman registered the name, had a flash of a tall, meaty man who let his fingernails grow long for fights, using them to claw and scrape. He’d tried to take Roman’s eye out once, but Roman had blocked him, then bent his fingernails back until they’d bled.

He’d do plenty of damage if Roman let him.

The crowd barked and howled like wolves and someone cranked the music while Roman’s opponent made his way to the fighting area.

Roman got to his feet and waited.

“And fighting the wolf, we have… the Gladiatorrrrrr!” Kellen shouted into the mic.

The crowd cheered, although there were always a few boos in there too. Roman never minded those. Show him a universally liked man and Roman would show you someone who didn’t fight for anything.

He burst through the door and jogged down the path that had been created from the changing rooms to the fighting area.

The crowd was still making noise, but he didn’t hear any of it. They’d gone quiet behind the faces in his mind: Valeriya and her sly smile, Ruby’s gaunt face after her rescue, her eyes haunted.

And Olivia. Sweet Olivia, the little girl who’d chattered next to him while they’d watched TV, who smelled like graham crackers and strawberry shampoo, who’d sighed softly when he and Ruby had tucked her into her bed in the pink room with unicorns dancing across the walls.

He’d hurt them all. He deserved what was coming to him.

He didn’t even hear Kellen set up the fight, make the usual cracks about the lack of rules.

Roman was too busy thinking about the women he’d hurt, the little girl he’d damaged forever.

He was still thinking about them when he took the first blow.

34

Ruby

She lay in bed in the dark, staring at the glow of the candle flickering onto the ceiling.

Roman had left hours ago, long after they’d said goodnight, and now Ruby couldn’t help but wonder where he was.

He wasn’t prone to late-night absences. Not that she knew of anyway.

She pondered the possibilities again: a business problem, food with Max, a nightclub.

The last was the most ridiculous. She knew Roman wasn’t a monk, but she couldn’t imagine him at a nightclub. Plus he was under heavy guard, and Ruby imagined that was even more true now.

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