CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

SHAW

Istare at her face, watching that venom trying not to enjoy itself. Her fingers dig at my neck and shoulders like she hates every piece of me. She's right to, and, at the moment, I don't give one damn about that. I'm balls deep and somewhere between rage and ecstasy.

Hand leaving my neck, she swipes at my face, shredding it. Just makes me more desperate to stay exactly where I am.

"I hate you," she spits. Yeah, whatever. I shove in harder and lift her leg higher. Her back grates on the rough wall as I get my mouth closer to hers. She blinks and groans, air puffing from her lips. "I really fucking hate you." I'd kiss her if it was anyone else. I'd enjoy the moment and get a feel of those lips on mine again after all this time. Instead, I stay buried inside her and just stare because, whether I like it or not, I don't need to get any closer to her than I already am.

Tongue roaming my lips, I watch her lick her own. "You wish you hated me," drawls out of me. I can't say I don't have some interest in her either. That's what this has been, hasn't it? Riled up aggression from both of us and my own damn confusion about the situation. Didn't help that she managed to hurt me. I felt those hits, was surprised by them, but damn, this was nice.

A loose, pissed smile lifts my mouth at the thought of her scheming and trying to get past me, and I slowly pull out of her and let go of her leg. She shifts her clothes straight immediately and looks to the left like she's gonna run for it. "Don't even think about it." I tuck myself away and move between her and the end of the corridor. "You won't surprise me again, and this ending won't happen the same way, either." She looks at the floor, then flicks her head up again at the sound of some girl wailing out her woes a way off.

"How many are here?"

"Don't know. I don't count them in."

She slides down the wall with her head in her hands. "This is so screwed up."

"You think?" Some bitter laugh falls out of me. "It's just another day for me. Another number. Another fuck." She glares up at me like she didn"t wanna hear that. Tough. Not that it was true, if I'm honest with myself. "Get up."

"Why? This is as much a cell as that room is. No way out. No hope. No anything." She sobs a hassled tear or two, swiping them from her cheeks instantly. "I can't even fight my way out. I've trained for that, practised and promised myself I'd never be in that position again, but it made no difference." No. Nearly, though. "And what the hell was that? What am I doing? I'm fucking you now?" She shakes her head like she's lost about what just happened. "I hate that. I hate you."

"Yeah, you've said that already."

I look along the corridor, knowing there's no one else here but me and some security out front. Everyone's gone home now, back to their normal lives outside these walls. Even Rachet, wherever the hell he goes. Don't even know why I waited here after everyone left. Nowhere else to go, maybe. No one else to go to.

I need a drink.

"You thirsty?" I mutter.

She looks up at me and swipes her cheeks again. "A little."

I start walking away, looking back at her. She frowns but gets up slowly and follows until we're in the main training area, and I'm heading to the rack of booze. "Don't try running. There's security out front, and they shoot first and don't ask questions."

She folds her arms around herself and stays planted just where I leave her. "Might be better if they did."

I snort and bring a bottle of tequila and two glasses back to the table she's near. "That's one way of looking at it."

"What other way is there?"

I sit and kick out a chair for her, listening to the scrape echo. "None, I guess."

Two shots later, with no speaking, I'm staring at the raised platform off to the side where the girls train out their routines. Be nice to see her up there using what God gave her. I look back at her, wondering how far she got with that the last time we had hold of her. That leads my thoughts right back to who fucked her before me. Elias, Dante? Abel wouldn't have. Not his type at all. Too cute looking. Although, maybe if he'd seen some of this spite and violence she's brought me, he'd have changed his mind about that back then.

I rub my still painful jaw with the back of my hand, then tip another shot straight down my throat. Beaten on by two people tonight. I preferred the second fight.

"Do you enjoy doing this?" she asks.

"Doing what? Fucking?"

"No. This." She points around the building. "This life."

A small sneer graces my face as I pick up the bottle to refill my glass. I'm not answering that. Frankly, I don't know what I enjoy. Far as I can tell, my life has never given me time to understand enjoyment of any kind unless I'm trashed or balls deep in something beautiful.

My gaze slants at her briefly, taking in that beauty. I could definitely enjoy that some more. Hours of it, in fact. Days or weeks, even. I'm not surprised Abel's got a buyer already. She's sweet as candy and as fiery as hell. Not that he knows that last part. And that attitude sure as hell isn't gonna help her on her way to being treated well, either.

"I was about to go to university when your brothers took me the first time," she says, drawing circles on the table with her finger. I frown and reach for the bottle again. "I enjoyed life before that. I was looking forward, free of fear and even the passing thought of these kind of concerns. And then, well, Willow helped when we got to London. And Landon got me into a program. I was going to be a lawyer. Prosecution, perhaps."

"So you can take down men like me?" I snort, thinking of Grasby over here getting us out of all kinds of trouble. "Doesn't work. We have better lawyers."

"I was learning from the best. I would have …" She trails off and looks at the tequila bottle and her empty glass, so I refill it for her. "He's a really good defence lawyer. I was watching him, learning to counter his arguments."

"Yeah? Still wouldn't work. Men like us have more money than sense, and we've got a loyalty embedded in us about family and staying out of jail cells. We back each other up, you know?" Fucking questionable sometimes where I'm concerned, but mostly. "We don't worry about anything we do. Don't have to. Bent cops, scared enemies. A server full of information on politicians and high-ranking assholes. We're free of concerns about lawyers."

I tip another shot back and look at her watching me speak. She's learning, thinking, trying to work out how she gets past me and out of this building and back to her freedom. A part of me wishes she wasn't thinking like that. I guess it hopes, somewhere deep down, that my words and thoughts are worth hearing somehow – like I'm worth listening to. Sure as shit doesn't feel like anyone else bothers. "Shame you didn't kill me. You should've learnt to break a neck. Quick and fast. It's easy, you know? You just get the right angle and …. Crack. Problem solved." I scowl and think on Elias's body in that casket. "That would've been a better line of work for you."

"Is that the only way out for me now? Killing someone?" I nod slowly, reaching for the bottle again. What other way is there? None. "Shaw?" My gaze rises at the sound of my name on her tongue. "What's going to happen to me? What happens after this place?"

"Don't know." I do, but getting those words out of my mouth isn't easy. It should be. After years of this shit and seeing woman after woman getting led off by some unknown asshole to whatever hell hole they're aiming for, I should be immune. I'm not, though. I feel their fear when I tell them that kind of truth.

"You do know. You know exactly where I'm going and what's going to happen to me."

I pour again, slowly, watching the tequila this time instead of looking at her. "Yeah, well, maybe I do, and maybe I don"t. Doesn"t matter either way."

"I had a life out there. Twice." I look up at her snarling tone. "And you're stealing it. Again." Those words, together with her lips trembling around them, cut in too fucking deep. I swallow and look at the table. "I got away, Shaw. I don't even understand why you'd come for me again. You've got more than enough girls here for whatever profit you need." Yeah, and if it was up to me, we wouldn't have. Isn't, though, is it? I'm low-ranking nothingness, and not one goddamn thing is up to me. "I can hear them. At night when none of you are here? They cry, Shaw. I cry, too. Listen." I do, and the faint sound of sobbing rings true enough from the back rooms. "I don't want this. Please? I just want to go home and-"

"Yeah, but life's fucked that way. We don't all get what we want out of it."

Standing, I nod at her to get up. This conversation is done. Has to be before it gets too personal, and I'm too drunk to see the sense I've had forced into me. She's a number, is all. And I'm a Cortez. It doesn't matter how I feel about her, the situation, or my own part in it. She needs to go back in that cell, and I need to get the hell out of here.

She stays sitting there like it"s all on me to be the asshole again. So, I grab hold of her and start pulling, making damn sure she doesn"t get out of my grip. She bitches, fights, tries pleading, but none of it works. It can"t. Women scuttle to the back of their cages as we pass by, and before she's ready for it her own cage comes into view.

"Please, Shaw," she says. "Think about what you"re doing. You could help? No one would know it was you. I wouldn't tell." I push harder, refusing to listen to her voice and let go as she's shoved inside. "Shaw?" I slam the gate, lock it, and back away to walk out of this place. "You"re better than this!" She shouts. I'm not. Can't be. "I felt it in you."

She felt nothing. All she felt was a lie.

I don't even believe myself.