Page 205 of Psycho

I shrugged. I wouldn’t really say I was okay with that. I was… tired.

Roman probably knew that, too, because he didn’t say anything more after that.

There was a fifteen-minute break as people came up on the stage and started clearing out the unconscious man lying there, wiping away the sweat and blood, making sure it was dry for the next fight—

Micah’s fight.

The final fight of the night.

I anxiously watched the clock as it counted down the time.

I just wanted this night to be over, so I could spend it in Micah’s arms and not feel like my heart was trying to push itself up my throat.

I swallowed around the small lump. Roman grabbed my hand and held it in his when he noticed my nails digging into my palm.

I didn’t look at him, but I did squeeze his hand in thanks.

At least with his warm palm around mine, I was reminded that I wasn’t there alone.

Roman and Dominic were both there and, according to Micah, were a part of a small group of men he trusted with his life.

If they weren’t worried, perhaps I shouldn’t be… right?

My heart plummeted straight down to the ground when the bell rang, signaling the start of the fight, and I tightened my grip around Roman’s hand.

“He’s going to be okay,” I said out loud. I didn’t care who heard, I just needed to hear the words.

He was going to be okay because there was no other alternative.

Micah was too damn possessive to ever let me live on this Earth without him.

I would never leave you, he promised, probably because he could have seen how terrified I’d been on the ride over.

The MC came into the ring then, wearing a creepy smile on his face that I fucking hated.

God, how could he be so blasé about the whole thing?

Scotty McGregor had worked for Dad since the Basement first opened about five years ago.

I didn’t interact much with the man, not unless I had to, considering he was just like Dad.

Sleazy, greedy, and only out for himself.

But now, seeing him on stage, there was just something about the man that I disliked immensely, but that could just be because he was about to announce the fighter.

“How is everyone doing tonight?” Scotty shouted into the mic. Cheers and applause rang out through the spacious building, and I moved a little closer to Roman, who wrapped his arm around me.

It wasn’t the same. Roman might look like Micah, but he didn’t feel like Micah, and I didn’t think my heart would settle until I had Micah’s arms around me once more.

“We have a special treat for you folks tonight,” Scotty continued, his beady little eyes taking in the audience. “A new fighter in our midst. Ah, but don’t look down your nose at him. He’s known around these parts of town as the fucking Psycho. An unfeeling machine. Give it up for Micah ‘Psycho’ Stone!”

I wrinkled my nose at the introduction, and Dominic watched the entire thing with a sort of sadistic amusement in his eyes. They were soft when he turned to me, though, probably having felt my gaze on him.

I offered a small smile just as the crowd went wild and stole my attention. I sat up in my seat and looked toward the entrance.

My breath caught as Micah walked out, wearing black jogging shorts and a white muscle shirt that showed off his defined muscles.

My nails bit into my palm once more when he made his way up to the ring, his eyes focused.

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