Page 2 of Auctioned to the Convicts
A pained moan filled the hold. Relief swept through Hannah, which made no sense. She had no connection to the man.
He started to roll onto his side. The guards would beat him to death if he tried to rise.
“Stay down!” she yelled, fear shooting up and grabbing her by her throat the moment the guard turned away from Gray Eyes to her.
Strong fingers dug into Hannah’s shoulder, dragging her to the wall of seats starboard side. The guard shoved her into a seat and raised his hand to strike her. She raised her arms to protect her face and head.
“You’re too pretty to damage,” he said as he stroked his finger along her cheek.
“Leave me alone,” she bit out. No one had prepared her for this, for the violence, for the sense of hopelessness starting to overtake her.
The man in HR who’d lowered her to a Level 5 warned her she would be mated with several men on the prison planet to form a permanent unit. Whether she wanted a unit or not was moot. She could see how she’d need them, for protection. She was vulnerable now. As a female in a colony, she’d have no rights, except those given to her by the men in her unit.
For the rest of her life, she’d be bound to the men, subject to their whims. She’d be theirproperty,and they could do whatever they wanted with her. Including renting her out.
“Your hands,” the guard ordered, his frown making it clear he was not pleased by her warning Gray Eyes to stay down.
The shackles rattled as she lifted her arms. The guards had cuffed her arms in front of her unlike the male prisoners aboard who had their arms cuffed behind them and were shackled to the floor. The guards didn’t consider her dangerous, and yet they were sending her to the same prison colony as murderers. And worse. She really didn’t want to know what qualified asworse.
Carrick, according to the name on his uniform, lifted her cuffed hands above her head and snapped them against the metal ring. She stared at The Company’s emblem on his uniform. A blue and green planet with a large, bold, black letter ‘A’ on it. They’d stamped that letter on the image of Argus as they stamped their authority over so many planets in the system. It’s why no one called The Company by its legal name, Argus Company. They were just too dominant, too powerful.
“Damn it,” Carrick said, trying for a third time to get her cuffs to snap in place. The locking mechanism wouldn’t engage.
“Forget about it,” Parker said as he walked through the rows of prisoners chained to the floor. “She’s not going anywhere.”
Carrick shoved her bound hands into her lap. “Don’t cause any trouble, or I’ll put a mark in your file.”
“I’m already a 5,” she said before she could stop herself.
“You know what’s lower than Level 5, don’t you?”
She clamped her mouth shut. Riling this guard wasn’t going to help her situation.
“Level 6, as insixfeet under. The last level you’ll ever achieve,” he said, laughing at his own joke.
Okay, so there was a rating lower than a 5. Which is why she shut up.
“He’s coming to,” Parker said off to their left.
Gray Eyes. She hoped he was okay.
“Chain him to the wall,” Carrick shouted. The two guards shoved Gray Eyes against the wall, locking his ankle chains and handcuffs behind him to the wall. Gray Eyes wouldn’t be causing any more trouble.
Hannah gasped when the guards stepped aside, giving her a view of Gray Eyes. He had multiple cuts along his face and one eye had started to swell shut. She couldn’t tell if he had any injuries beyond the bruises. God, she hoped not.
He had such kind eyes.
Hannah leaned her head against the wall and closed her eyes. Showing attention to a man she knew nothing about, aviolentman no less, would invite trouble. Then again, she would soon be forced to choose men from Level 5s. . . murderers, rapists, the scum of society. She’d need to devise a strategy to find men who could protect her and hopefully wouldn’t beat her. Or rent her out. Once she was in a unit, there’d be no recourse, no one to protect her from the men she chose. She’d be theirs.
* * *
Hannah’s eyessprang open with a start as the shuttle lurched. She’d fallen asleep. Not surprising given the lack of sleep she’d had in the last forty-eight hours since she’d been caught. She’d been questioned, dragged before the board for judgment, then into HR for sentencing. She’d waited five hours to see her mom and dads, one last time.
They came, her mom and dads. All four of them.
Two minutes. That’s how long the guards gave her to say her goodbyes. Not even enough time to explain her crime.
She’d never see them again.
