Page 11 of Taken By the Convicts
“Oh, she’ll be alive. She’ll only wish she were dead. Now get moving. Hawke’s full unit will be here once the third shift ends.”
Jayce darted off through the crowd that seemed to have doubled in the few minutes they’d been talking. Ivan pushed his way through the men. He needed to see the monster in the hole. The men grumbled, but they let him through.
Ivan hated even being close to the hole. The fucking guards had left him in there for seven days, two winters ago, and he never thought he’d make it out alive.
Jayce had dropped supplies down to him. A thick coat, water, food, and even a solar-powered space heater that caught a few hours of sun when the sun was directly over the four-foot diameter hole. That had kept him warm a few hours each night, but he never thought he’d be warm again.
His gut twisted as he neared the edge of the hole. The marks in the snow and ice around the hole from where the guards had placed the tripod to lower the woman down brought back vivid memories. Fifty feet down. Hell, he wasn’t even sure anyone had a rope that long to throw down to pull her out, let alone whether she’d be in any shape to hold on.
“When did they put her in?” Ivan asked the crowd.
A bunch of shrugs. Assholes. They knew, but they wouldn’t give up any information to him. Not without an incentive.
“She belongs to Hawke,” one of the new guys said. He’d learn soon enough. The woman belonged to Ivan because he’d take her. Simple as that.
“Better check that tone, soldier,” Ivan warned, “Or you’ll be hurting, and the only doctor on the planet right now is down that hole.”
The blond almost stood at attention. Ivan had pegged him right. Ex-military, except he didn’t want to admit it. “Four hours, Sir,” the man said.
“It’s Perilov to you.” Not that he minded being addressed with a formal title, but he wasn’t military anymore. Never would be again. Veenith had an entirely different set of rules. Showing no weakness topped that list. And that woman down there was certainly his weakness. He’d give anything to have a chance at her, to exact some justice of his own.
Four hours. She’d be cold, but still lucid.
“Please h-help me,” the woman called up. She’d heard him, heard the men milling about.
“She’s been begging for a coat or blanket for a while now,” Branson said, pushing the blond guy back. “I’d love to see her begging, Perilov, but she can’t do that if she’s dead. Tell you what, if you can keep the hordes off of me, I’ll get her out. Then I want the first crack at her.”
That’s all these animals thought about. Fucking the one woman on the planet. Roughly half the guys here had been in the skirmish on Markov 4, and they didn’t know who they had down there. They’d do more than fuck her if they knew.
“Hey, there,” came the scared voice from below. Ivan looked into the hole for the first time. Large, beautiful eyes stared up to him. Despite chattering teeth, she smiled. Her lips were turning blue. “P-please. It’s s-so c-cold d-down h-here.”
Pain shot through his gut, not the usual pain either. Something more primal. He shouldn’t be empathizing with her. He had to remember that wasn’t a mere woman down there, but a monster. He remembered what it was like to be stuck in that hole. She’d only been in there for a few hours. He should leave her there, give himself time to figure out how exactly to repay her for all the death, all the pain. But the longer he left her in there, the more time Hawke had to gather his unit and retrieve her. Riley, Hawke’s second in command, had already run off to report in. As soon as third shift ended, Ivan would have five hulking men to deal with, in addition to the current crowd.
“W-what’s y-your n-name?”
“I’m not here to make friends,” he groused.
“I’m a d-doctor. I have sk-skills,” she shouted up, her entire body shaking from the cold.
“The only skill we want is what you can do in bed. Or bent over a rock,” someone shouted out.
Ivan spun around, a kneejerk reaction to how the men saw nothing more than a female to fuck. “Out of here, everyone, or you’ll find yourself unable to fuck anyone when I’m done with you.” Ivan slid his longest knife from his boot. A six-inch blade that was a solid piece of metal, not some shiv fashioned from a flimsy spoon that would likely bend before cutting into flesh.
The majority of men backed off. Ivan didn’t dare take his eyes off the fifteen men who remained. Those men weren’t easily intimidated, and if they banded together, he wouldn’t have a chance. What was taking Jayce so fucking long?
“P-please? Is a-anyone s-still up th-there?”
Hell, she sounded scared, and he couldn’t blame her, but he certainly didn’t want to feel for her. Sitting in that hole, surrounded by nothing but solid ice, was nothing compared to the hell he planned to put her through.
“Fuck off, all of you. You can have her when I’m done,” Ivan said, hoping to buy time for Jayce to return. He didn’t want to kill them, but they were forcing his hand. He worked alongside most of these men in the mines, he’d helped them, but right now all they could think about was the woman in the hole and what they wanted from her.
Ivan had no choice. He let two knives sail. He struck Williams and Ho in the shoulders. A warning, the last one he’d give.
Something struck his head, and he went down hard. The world around him spun as someone dragged him by his feet. His vision blurred, but he knew the smell of rotting teeth above him. Hawk.
“You thought you could take my female, Perilov? Foolish, especially when you don’t have a unit.”
There was nothing he could say to Hawk. Nothing would convince the man to hand her over. They didn’t care what she’d done either. Hawke had an advantage in that respect, but Ivan couldn’t let her go. He’d promised his men, and Ivan never broke a promise.
