Page 36 of Kings of Violence

Sierra is hot.

She has to know it, too, because no chick who looks like that is unaware that every straight guy with a dick is into her. But her being hot doesn’t change the fact that sitting around in a room watching her work on her computer stuff is actually really fucking boring.

All she does is type and stare at the screen, then type more. Again and again, until I’m ready to go insane. She’s been working on it for what feels like hours, and while she keeps telling Konstantin it takes time, I wonder if she’s just trying to play us after all.

“Made any progress?” I ask.

She answers absently with some computer jargon I don’t recognize, but I nod and smile like I know what she’s saying.

“That sounds hard,” I tell her.

Sierra gives me a look from over the laptop’s screen. “You didn’t listen to a word I said, did you?” she asks, shaking her head.

I grin at her. “I listened! I just don’t know that language.” I pause, feeling like a caged beast while stuck in this place. Someone has to keep an eye on Sierra, though it’s pretty much pointless since none of us know enough about computers to know if she’s actually holding up her end of the bargain or not.

I finally give up, unable to take the monotony any longer.

“You stay here,” I tell her, pointing a finger at the computer. “Keep working. I’ll be right back.”

“Mhm,” she murmurs, and I’m not even sure she heard me.

I roll my eyes and leave the room, heading to my own. I find my camera there, checking to make sure I have a new memory card in it before returning to Sierra.

She doesn’t even look up as I enter, or even when I start taking pictures of her. She’s pretty even without makeup, with her short hair tousled from sleep and with an organic feel most women can’t come close to.

As the days pass, she seems to get more and more used to wearing our clothes, too. I like seeing her in Konstantin’s in particular, because they drown her form entirely and make it especially alluring when all I can see are legs.

I move to take pictures of those, too, and it’s only when I circle around her that she finally looks up.

At first, she looks confused, then her eyes narrow in annoyance. “You can’t leave me alone for an hour?”

“I’m not bothering you,” I tell her. “I’m not making you pose, even though you’d make a fantastic model.” She would, too, and I have every intention of making her model naked for me once the brand heals completely.

“Youarebothering me, actually,” Sierra retorts. “I can’t concentrate with your camera in my face like that.”

I lift the camera to take a few pictures of her face. “Do you normally wear make-up?” I ask as I flip through the results.

The question seems to catch her off guard, but she shrugs. “Most of the time I wear a little,” she says. “Lip gloss, mascara, a little foundation and powder… Not much more than that. What about you?”

I snort. “Would you like to see me in some guyliner?”

Come to think of it, I wonder how I’d look. I’m not emo or goth enough to pull it off, though, and I’d probably look ridiculous.

Yuri, on the other hand…

“It wouldn’t make you any less vile,” she says almost cheerfully, which is enough to sour some of my good will toward her.

Still, I understand to a degree.

If I was in her shoes, I would probably think the same. Of course, her shoes would never fit me, and I’d have never been taken alive. I wouldn’t have cared if my mother had died along with me.

I’d have done anything, everything, to keep myself from being taken by the enemy like this.

Is she stupid, brave, or what?

She goes back to typing, but after a few more pictures, she asks, “What kind of camera is that?”

I pause, wondering if she actually cares. But she sounds legitimately curious, and it’s not like it’s a secret. “A new mirrorless one. I bought it for myself over the holidays. Haven’t had a chance to really test it out yet.”

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