Roman reigns/OC/Dean Ambrose

Part 16

Forget Caligula and Nero, because in that moment there had never been a more enraged Roman, than the one pacing a shitty, little jail cell in hodunk, Louisiana. Roman Reigns was pissed. His lover and best friend, Dean Ambrose, watched him unamused, but just as angry. How could it all have gone so wrong, so fast? They'd gone from a beautiful evening with their favorite girl to having her brutally ripped from their arms. And all on account of one bitch…

Sophia.

'Oh she's gonna get hers…', Roman thought to himself. Roman Reigns was opposed completely to violence against women, but as far as he was concerned, when you became a threat to the people he loved….You're fair fucking game.

Roman ran up to the door of his cell, gripping the bars tightly. "Guard! Hey! Get over here!" Roman kicked against the bars, trying to be as obnoxious as possible. Neither him or Dean had been able to contact a lawyer or even post bail for a crime they didn't even know the nature of. So naturally, this added to his irritation. He banged against the bars harder. A vexed, little man finally walked over.

"Whatcha' want, boy?! You see I'm watchin' ma' stories on the T.V."

"I want to call my fucking lawyer! I want to know why the hell we're in here-"

"I want some fucking food…" Dean muttered. Roman turned, giving Dean an annoyed, deadpan stare, left eye twitching slightly. "What? What?"

Roman turned back around with an eyeroll. "Oh… and I want to be released! Like right now! We haven't committed any fuckng crime!" Roman glared down at the smaller man.

"What he said." Dean mumbled from the corner.

"Just who in the hell do you think you are?" The little man pointed to a patch on his shirt. "Ya see this here? Ya know what that means?"

Roman leered at the little man, before looking down to where he was pointing.

Officer Noble

"It...means… you people can't afford anything other than some cheap ass cotton-polyester blend shirts with equally as shitty patches to sew on your Goodwill clothes?" Dean snorted when Noble's jaw dropped. "Oh! It also means you're not good enough to be a sheriff and are barely recognized as an officer, seeing as everyone else has a badge and your runt ass doesn't," Roman leaned down to come eye to eye with the wannabe officer, "Is that what it means? Did I miss anything?"

Officer Noble stared at Roman, mouth opening and closing in shock.

"Well, well, you kn-know what?! I-I- Acckkk!"

Roman, finally letting his rage show, reached past the bars suddenly and snatched Noble up by the collar of his shirt, lifting him off the ground.

"Listen here, little man, if you don't give me my phone and open this goddamn door, I swear on your life, that I will fucking kill you." He ended with a shake to the tiny man before dropping him.

Noble fussed with his rumpled uniform. Flattening every crease, smoothing every wrinkle, straightening his collar, and taking the time to tuck in his shirt. He made every movement as slow as possible to irritate the men inside the cage. How dare that pretty boy put his hands on a man of the law. A civil servant, if you will. He smirked when the larger man growled in annoyance.