Page 23 of Rescued By the Convicts
“We thought we could outsmart hundreds of men. Like I thought I could outsmart Danning. Just one more woman sacrificed.”
Hands sifted through his hair. He knew that touch so well, except he couldn’t look up. This was what was left of his soul taking over, punishing him for everything he’d done. He deserved to be on Veenith.
“Look at me, Jayce,” the sweet voice that mimicked Melina’s so well said. “Open your eyes and look at me.”
“Open them, Jayce,” Ivan demanded in that no-nonsense way of his.
Ever since he was a kid, Jayce had trouble ignoring Ivan’s orders. It was his survival instinct, the one that told him to defer to Ivan when everything was crashing down around them in the piss-filled streets of Turul.
Jayce opened his eyes and blinked them several times, waiting for his vision to clear. A curtain of long flowing dark hair swung in front of him. Fucking drugs had screwed him up. Maybe he’d try Crash next time, but that was more expensive. He’d have to trade with Anderson, and he loathed that asshole.
“I don’t think he sees me,” a female said, prying open one of Jayce’s eyelids.
Jayce whipped his hand up and locked onto her wrist.
“You won’t hurt me, Jayce. Not when you work so hard to keep me safe.”
“You’re not here,” he said to the hallucination that fucking mirrored his Lina.
“Then who are you talking to?”
“I’m dreaming.”
“You’re very much awake, though you’ve taken something. A drug. Crash?”
“More likely Flight,” Ivan said. “It’s easier to get hold of here.”
“No drug should be easy to get hold of here.”
“You’re thinking like a doctor, little bird, not a prisoner.”
Dreams didn’t talk about drugs. And they didn’t smell so good either, like morning rain in the mountains near Turul, the one place he missed on Argus.
A growl sounded nearby. It sounded threatening, like an animal.
“Cool it, Reece. I won’t let him hurt her,” Ivan said.
Ivan needed to stay the fuck out of his dreams before he drove off Melina.
Another growl. Great, now he had Reece in his dream.
“Seriously, Reece,” Jayce began, “You fucking need to learn how to write already. You’re not dumb, so no excuses.”
That Melina figment-of-his-imagination sifted her fingers through his hair. That felt so damn good.
“You’re right, Jayce. Reece is bright enough, but I think with Zev gone, he’s lost interest. Maybe we could find another hard-ass man to teach him. Know of any?” Her hand stroked his cheek. Fuck, that felt so real.
“What? No reply? Not even a snide remark?” she asked.
“Ivan’s the hard-ass,” Jayce answered, though he didn’t know why he was talking to a hallucination. “He likes playing with knives.”
“I don’t play with anything,” Ivan said, with a hint of humor in his voice. How could he sound so casual after what happened to Melina? Maybe Jayce was imagining Ivan too. Maybe he was still back in Turul, in that cell. Danning had finally found a way to break him.
Imaginary-Melina raised a brow. Gods, she was sexy and cute, especially with how she made Ivan shut up so easily.
“Enough of this. Release her wrist, Jayce, before I fucking break your arm.”
That certainly sounded like real-Ivan. Jayce looked at imaginary-Melina again. “They killed you. The miners took you and killed you.”
