28. Micah

Covered in stale champagne, darkening bruises and whining battle scars, my mind thumped with each small movement, a minor fog still lingering from the depths of my concussion.

I refused to think about Oscar. Refused to think about my Variant. Refused to think about August, my sisters and their homicidal tendencies. All my energy was needed to escape this fucking dungeon.

I'd awoken hours before, sweet, soft breaths fanning my face as my head was cushioned in the bust of my newfound friend, Lily. We now sat shoulder to shoulder, our backs leaning against the far wall, perusing the underground warehouse that had been converted into a makeshift gym.

A large group of Forbidden Garden flower girls huddled amongst the state-of-the-art fitness equipment. Some of them, like me, had their wrists bound by cheap rope.

There were ten guards in total—all lowly foot soldiers in the Ludus, from what I could gather. I'd pinpointed the one who tackled me to the ground. He was in charge, his stern voice distinctive amid the rest. A scar stretched over his lips, lifting every time he sneered (which was often). They called him Scarface. Truly original.

Lingering moans of pleasure snapped me out of my stupor. Down a short corridor, the guards escorted willing flower girls to a separate back room, where they'd provide services in exchange for food (not that I'd call crumbed stale chips or tasteless protein bars ‘food', but who was I to judge?).

Besides our current company, the surrounding Caverns were deserted. Distant rumbles intermittently vibrated through the underground, the contagious cheers of a sizable crowd escalating louder.

The Gladiator Games were fully underway, and the further time elapsed, our guards grew more restless. Their desire to join the entertainment transitioned into frustration, aimed towards us.

Two of the younger guards attempted to slip away, only for Scarface to slap them around the heads among an earful of insults.

"I can't believe we have to fucking babysit," one of them whined, rubbing his head. "Why can't we go and watch?"

Scarface growled. "You know why."

The other turned to us with a feral snarl. "Which one of you bitches helped the bartender escape?" He yanked the hair of the flower girl closest to him. "Fucking spit it out."

Scarface whacked him again. "Boss wants to interrogate them himself."

"And when will that be?"

His features stalled. "After the games."

The second-in-command snaked between us women, perusing as if we were a herd of cows ready for auction. His copper hair gleamed unnaturally in the artificial light. "Must be important, if Boss is coming himself," he said. "We've been given our orders, boys, but since we're stuck here, I'm sure the girls will compensate us in some way."

My attention piqued. It was impossible to reach Maximus on a regular day. Even if you did make the journey down here like I did, you'd be cast out before you could even reach the inner ring and get a glimpse of his holiness.

Another opportunity presented itself and the decision took weight in my gut. I'd stay right there until I met the elusive Maximus in person.

"You don't look scared," Lily whispered.

"What makes you say that?"

"People that are scared don't have that expression on their face."

I regarded her. "Expression?"

"Like you"re contemplating every single way you can make them suffer." Her chin tilted to the guards.

The side of my mouth lifted ever so slightly. "Your face doesn't exactly scream ‘scared little girl' either."

"I know what it is to be scared…and they aren't it."

I pitched a brow. "Thankfully, none of those reasons are here."

Her swirling purple eyes shone with understanding. She had someone she loved, someone she would protect above all others.

I tipped my head back. "Once my skull stops splitting open, I'm going to get out of here. Want to come?"

Lily gave a nervous laugh, but didn't say no.

We sat in companionable silence, her presence surprisingly soothing, my Variant content to soak in her calm aura.

The Ludus had nothing to fear. Not right now, anyway.

Unfortunately for them, the unpredictable denominator wasn't me—it was my sisters.

I simply hoped their patience held off long enough for my stay to be beneficial.

Who am I kidding?

For the utmost time,my stomach rumbled aggressively.

Scarface grinned, leaning back on the leg press. "I'll give you something to eat anytime, pretty Rose. You know the price, you just have to eat me first."

With a glare of pure disgust, I spat at his feet. "I'd rather starve."

Mocking laughs erupted through the room, his scar stretching in a grotesque grimace.

I was tired, hungry and uncomfortable. He didn't want to fuck with me right now.

The guards were huddled in a loose circle at the entrance, when suddenly some cheered in glee and others groaned.

"Pay up, Scarface. Your man fucking lost. He didn't even last two minutes against The Beast," the copper-haired subordinate jeered.

Scarface bristled at the news. "Shut up, Cole. If only Psycho were still here. He would fucking annihilate all these amateurs."

"Including you," I scoffed. I couldn't help it.

Scarface snapped his head in my direction. "Okay, I'll bite. Why would my own friend Psycho come after me?"

"Because he's mine."

He laughed. A raucous, full-bellied laugh. "You sluts are delusional. One quick fuck doesn't make him yours."

Ignoring me, he returned to his group, reassuring them that he had the funds to pay for his loss (which he definitely didn't, based on his underlying desperation).

I lapped up his anguish with a lick of my lips, the perfect nourishment I was more than willing to feast on.

A soft chuckle managed to escape my mouth and Scarface's gaze sharpened on Lily. He stomped over to us, twisted her hair in his fist and dragged her towards the corridor. Lily screamed and fought against his hold, her nails scraping down his forearms. Losing his patience, he kicked her abdomen, her form instinctively curling over to protect itself. His fellow guards watched on in wonder, the violence and aggression causing lust to flare in their veins.

Willing participants weren't going to cut it anymore. These soldiers craved something darker, more sinister than what any of the flower girls were willing to provide.

I gave a disappointed sigh. Again, against my better judgement, I decided to spare her. "Easy to be tough when you rape a bound, helpless female, huh, Scarface?"

He stilled, the atmosphere charged with electrified tension. His shark eyes flicked over his shoulder to narrow on my relaxed posture.

"She's a hooker. It isn't rape."

I smirked. "And how will you pay for her? In pennies? It's not her fault you can't get a girl on your own. She shouldn't be punished because no one would choose you of their own free will."

Suppressed snickers came from all directions. He shoved her to the floor and towered over me, his sadistic smile gleaming with fury.

"I don't have to fucking pay when I can fucking take it."

He grabbed onto the rope binding my hands and hauled me towards the back room instead. Lily brought her knees to her chest, purple eyes boring into mine, her aura both equally thankful and terrified for me. To ease her worry, I winked as I was yanked past, her mouth dropping open at my jovial gesture.

Before we turned the corner, Scarface called out to his second-in-command. "Come and join me, Cole. Let this be an initial down payment for what I owe you."

Cole shifted his dick in his pants. It was already hard at the display. With one man holding my wrists and the other holding my ankles, I swung between them as they carried me to their doom.

They boundmy hands high to a pull-up bar that lined the far wall of a dingy office. My stiletto heels were long gone, my toes swinging loose several inches above the ground, muscles screaming from the unnatural position.

Scarface sat on the edge of a basic wooden desk that was on the opposite side, his full attention on my hanging frame. "The perfect view. Hurry the fuck up, Cole. She's a fighter, this one, and I can't wait to get my hands on her."

A piercing scream vibrated through the walls and the two guards laughed. "Looks like we're not the only ones having fun," Cole said as he approached me with unadulterated lust gleaming in his beady eyes.

My face remained impassive as he halted before me. Dropping his pants to the floor, he palmed his short, fat cock in slow, purposeful strokes. This asshole had the audacity to smirk, as if it was something to brag about.

His movements stalled when a deafening roar shook the foundations.

My name. August had screamed my name.

Scarface bounced from the desk with a frustrated grunt. "I'll check it out. You better be finished by the time I get back."

Cole was too far gone to even notice or care as Scarface left the room, his hand beating faster as his eyes roamed over my body. As soon as the door was closed, I kicked out my leg, my foot whipping clean across his face.

I chuckled. "Put that sad excuse of a dick away and run for your life…while you still have one."

He growled, holding the red mark that was already staining his cheek. "You fucking bitch!" Discarding his weapons on the desk, he shook out his arms, as if preparing for a boxing match. "My friends like the feel of a blade, how it slices into the skin, the give of a woman's flesh parting under their knife's edge." He repeatedly flexed and unflexed his fists. "Me? I like breaking them in with my hands, moulding a body to my own desires. I can't wait to mould you, my little doll."

He swung a right hook, but before his fist could connect I pushed off the wall at my back and swung in a twisted formation. His punch went wide as my thighs locked around the back of his head, tightening and constricting his neck. Cole thrashed with the ire of a caged lion, his hands digging into my legs as they choked the air from his lungs, attempting to separate my feet as they crossed at the ankles, digging into his chest. My wrists chafed raw above my head, taking the brunt of our weight. I welcomed the pain, welcomed the ache.

His movements eventually slowed, his actions laboured. Not long now.

Our soundless suffering battle had us both facing the closed door as it smashed open, denting the wall into which it slammed.

Love glowed from every pore in my body as August and Spencer crowded the threshold. One looked like the devil himself, the other a faultless saint. No matter their appearance, both were sent straight from the pits of hell to save me.