Page 43 of Taken By the Convicts
“As I said, an asset.”
“Then let me return to the med-center, where I can be of use to the entire prison population.”
Let them get close enough to take her? Hell, no. “Too dangerous. And I don’t give a damn about the other prisoners. They’re the enemy, doc. You need to get that through your head.”
“I see no difference between you and them.”
That hurt, more than the pain eating away at his body. He was nothing like Hawke or most of the men here. He and the three men who’d survived the drug XRGN-723 had been condemned to Veenith to keep them from talking. They hadn’t committed any crimes.
“You don’t own me,” she said, trying so hard to prove something to him. His little bird had a strength that would put most soldiers to shame.
“You’re right,” he conceded. “But we are a team, and I’m in charge. You’ll follow my orders.”
“Or what? You’ll lock me up in the room again, in the dark, without water or food? Leave me no choice but to pee in the corner like a dog?”
His fists clenched. “I don’t have it all figured out yet,” he admitted. She wasn’t a soldier, she didn’t understand the necessity for following orders. None of the others in his unit were soldiers either, but Crusher had lived on Veenith long enough to know units were stronger than solitaries. He would do what it took to keep Melina safe, including submitting to Ivan’s authority. And Zev. . . Fuck, he was listening to Ivan’s orders as well, but that wouldn’t last. Ivan had to get rid of Zev before he endangered Melina, Jayce, and Crusher.
“I can’t stay in this bunker forever.”
“You said you felt safe here.”
She glanced down the hall again. “Did Jayce say something to you?” he asked.
“This isn’t about Jayce. It’s about you not letting me return to my job. If I’m not your captive, then let me go.”
“This isn’t personal. It’s strategic. You’re staying here, where it’s safe.”
“I won’t be used as entertainment.”
“You certainly seemed to do a good job entertaining Crusher and Zev yesterday.” Fuck, he hadn’t meant to say that.
His little bird strode up to him with defiance in her eyes. “You fucking bastard. We’re not a unit. You’ll say anything to get me in your bed willingly. You’re using me, no different than Jayce really, except he’s honest about what he wants and who he is. You hide behind pretty words like honor and safety.”
He grabbed her upper arm so hard she winced. He didn’t like being called a liar.
“Yes, I want you, but I’m not playing games here, Melina. If Hawke gets his hands on you, he’ll fuck you raw and then pass you around to his unit and anyone else he owes a debt. I don’t think even you, with your insolence and haughty attitude, will survive that. Call me whatever you want, but I’m not letting you go up there because I know what will happen.”
She turned pale. She understood the danger, but that didn’t deter her.
“I can cure your pain,” she said, wringing her hands. She hadn’t missed what he had said. Something more was going on with her. “Let me take shifts at the med-center, and I’ll work on the cure for you while I’m there.”
His hands clenched. She was smart, knew what bait to dangle, but the risks were too high. “Why can’t you just—”
“What?” she interrupted him. “Stay here and make do? Organize the kitchen? Put away whatever Jayce brings back? Clean the toilets, the floors, do the laundry?”
“We all have duties we don’t like but are necessary. Do you think I like tearing up my hands and breaking my back mining serilium, or Jayce likes cleaning the guards’ quarters? What makes you better than any of us, that you should get a job you like?”
“I never said I’m better than you, and I have the scars to prove it.”
What the fuck did that mean? She stood there, her face as controlled as he’d never seen it.
“Please, Ivan,” she said, her voice soft as she stepped close to him, so close he could smell her. She smelled fresh and clean, but there was a tantalizing scent that reminded him of the bakery where he used to sweep floors as a kid. Vanilla, she smelled like vanilla.
One shaky hand reached out to touch his arm. Forget the control and even the fear he’d seen in her eyes. Her entire face filled with a desperation that gutted him.
Whatever was in her past, she wasn’t going to share, but he was starting to understand. She feared being trapped down here more than she feared the dangers above.
She stepped closer until her soft breasts pressed against his chest. Her using her body to get what she wanted didn’t anger him as he thought it would. This was Veenith after all. Prisoners here had to use whatever means they had to achieve their goals. And his little bird wanted to be set free.
