Page 47 of Auctioned to the Convicts
His finger toyed with the gaping collar of her dress, easing it lower. “Pulling the men of this unit together won’t be easy, and I can’t promise that I won’t fight it and the other men at times,” Vaughn said as his fingers dipped beneath the fabric, stroking the top of a breast. “I’ve been a solitary for a long time, as have the others. That would include you too, I’m guessing. Unless you had a unit of your own back on Argus?”
She tilted her head back. “Just my family unit I grew up with.”
He slid the top of her dress off her shoulder. Was he planning on taking her here, in the middle of the jungle?
“Did I hurt you when I punched you?” she asked, trying to hide her nervousness.
His eyes darkened, and he pulled on her hair until she looked him in the eyes. “You were running from someone. Who?”
“It doesn’t matter.” She hated lying to Vaughn, but this was her problem, not his. She plastered a smile on her face as she calmed her breathing the best she could.
His lips thinned as he frowned. “Your hand was already broken when you struck me. Who did you punch and why?”
“No one,” she said, pulling away. He grabbed her arm. “Let go of me!” she shouted as she swung at Vaughn again.
He caught her fist this time, and she bit her lip as pain radiated down her arm. “Just let me go,” she begged with a whimper she hadn’t intended, but she felt so beaten down. All she wanted was to sink into Vaughn’s arms and hear him tell her everything would be fine, like he’d said when Ky’Li had been injured. She wanted to hear that compassion in his voice again but for her this time.
“What happened?” he asked, his voice rough, unyielding.
“It’s not your problem, Vaughn.”
“Maybe you don’t understand what a unit is here. When one of us is threatened, it’s a threat to all. That’s the way the system is designed.”
If she told him about Max, he might blame her for staying late, or not getting off the railcar when Max had gotten on, or for wearing a dress or. . .
“Talk to me, Hannah,” he pressed.
“Just because we’re in a unit together doesn’t mean everyone has to know everyone else’s business. You said so my first night here, after we formed our unit when I asked why Sersie was avoiding the med-center.”
“That was different. I’m his doctor. I’m supposed to respect his privacy.”
“And I’m your unit mate. Respect my privacy and let me be.”
As she started to walk away, Vaughn called out, “I knew he was fragile. For as much as I can’t stand the guy, if Dresden finds out Sersie’s been getting high, he’ll bury him. I can’t do that to anyone, even Sersie.”
“But you hate him.”
“Of course I hate him after what he did to me!”
“What did he do to you?”
“What he always does. Impersonates me, gets me in debt, in trouble. Vance never cares about anyone but himself.”
“Who’s Vance?”
Vaughn looked at her stunned. “How do you know about Vance?”
“You just called Sersie Vance.”
“I did not.” Vaughn’s eyes narrowed. “Did I? Shit.” Long fingers wove through his hair. “I need sleep. Been working too many double shifts. Let’s get you home so I can take care of your hand first, and then I can crash.”
She walked alongside Vaughn in silence, trying not to think about her throbbing hand as she wondered who Vance was and what he had to do with Sersie.
“I should have checked in on Sersie the day after you formed our unit, to see how he was handling everything, but it’s not like we speak to one another much outside of treatment. One fucking day in this unit and he messed up, turned to Flight instead of coming to me like he’s supposed to when he’s stressed. Nearly a whole year being sober, gone.”
“You can’t expect him to go to you when he’s stressed given how unsupportive you are.”
“Unsupportive? Are you kidding me? I’ve covered up every time that he’s—”
