Hold (2 page)

They were nearing the end of the opposite side when Riana noticed a particular cell set off by itself.

It was the same size as all the others, except this one had metal bars intact and a functional door. Looking through the wall of bars, she noticed a large man doing one-arm push-ups inside.

He had olive skin and his dark hair was shaved down close to the scalp. He was really big—tall, broad shoulders, muscular arms and legs—and he was wearing a worn, sleeveless t-shirt.

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Hold

Something about him fascinated Riana and she stared as Davis explained something about a system of rewards for “good” behavior.

The man finished his push-ups and stood up, coming over to the bars to stare out at the vehicle. His face wasn’t classically handsome but the broad forehead, high cheekbones and square jaw looked both powerful and compelling.

“Who is that?” Riana asked.

Davis glanced over at the man. “He’d never give his name. He’s been here for a year now. He’s a loner. Keeps to himself.”

Riana stared more closely and realized the man must be able to lock himself in his cell—which had to be a real privilege in a place like this. She also noticed a doorway at the back of his cell and saw the edge of what looked like a primitive toilet inside.

This man had the only cell with a private toilet in the entire Hold.

That fact told Riana something she needed to know.

“And that’s it,” Davis said, circling the vehicle back around to where they’d come in. “Time to disembark.”

Which was a polite way of saying they were now going to be dumped into the Hold.

Her mind suddenly became a frantic blur. Riana could barely breathe, much less follow distinct movements as the back door of the vehicle opened and deposited her and the sleaze on the hard, cold floor.

The door immediately closed behind them. And then their manacles clattered to the floor as Davis released them remotely.

Riana shook off her hands, restoring circulation. She was freed of the shackles.

But now she was in more danger than ever before in her life.

The circling vehicle had gained everyone’s attention and already other prisoners—

most of them hard-eyed and dirty, more like beasts than like men—were starting to approach.

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Zannie Adams

She was so focused on the impending danger and her rising terror that she failed to notice the sleaze who’d been dropped off with her.

He made a quick grab for her breast—perhaps thinking he’d better grope while he could before stronger competition approached.

Riana reacted instinctively. She gave a hard sideways kick, landing it precisely on his groin. She wasn’t physically helpless. Her work required physical labor and she had always been in good shape—her body long, slender and fit. She also knew a few basic self-defense moves, as any independent woman did if she traveled alone on the outskirts of Coalition space.

With a strangled grunt, the sleaze doubled over. She aimed another kick, this one at his face, which was easily accessible because he was leaning over.

Her foot slammed into his mouth and jaw, knocking him backward. He gave an agonized howl.

She wished she’d knocked a few teeth out but her kick hadn’t been quite strong enough for that.

Her easy victory over her fellow prisoner caused a murmur of response through the Hold. There was also some derisive laughter—hopefully aimed at the sleaze—and a few appreciative whistles.

She wasn’t fooled. She wasn’t going to get herself through this on her own. The guy she’d clobbered had been a scrawny coward. She wouldn’t have a chance against at least half the men she saw circling around her.

“A cunt,” a nasal voice called out. “It’s about time we got a new one.”

Riana willed herself not to be sick.

She remembered Davis’ words.

Find the strongest man here. She needed to find the strongest man here.

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Hold

The first man she saw distinctly was frightening. At least a foot taller than she was and made like a bull with an oversized chest and unpleasantly beefy arms. He had a long black braid down his back. And his bare chest was covered with tattoos.

He approached her, eyeing her up and down with an objectifying look that made her feel like she was naked.

“Thorn will want her,” someone said from the sidelines.

The man turned his head with a sneer, as if defying anyone who would assert that Thorn had a stronger claim to her than him.

“How are you with your mouth?” he asked. He turned back to pin her down with a merciless black gaze.

Riana swallowed hard. Her mouth was so dry she couldn’t speak and her heart was hammering in her chest so painfully she thought it might explode.

This man would eat her alive.

There wasn’t any miraculous rescue in this place. No authority to keep any sort of order. Her only chance of survival was to be smarter than anyone else.

And to ally herself with exactly the right man.

That man—by all appearances—was approaching even now, swaggering with the kind of confident authority that showed his position in this primitive community.

Thorn’s clothes were in better shape than anyone else’s. And he looked well-fed and rested, which wasn’t the case with at least half the people she could see from where she stood. He also had a kind of entourage—some men who acted like bodyguards and the women Riana had noticed before.

Riana had met his type before. Arrogant, entitled, confident of their own physical prowess. The kind of superficial alpha male you could find in every ship, bar and gym in Coalition space.

“Were you going to make a play for her, Asp?” Thorn asked, facing the other man with a manner bristling with testosterone.

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Zannie Adams

It was a silent battle—a wordless duel of power and intimidation.

Riana looked on without breathing, wondering if Asp would back down or if they’d actually get in a fight over her.

It wasn’t a romantic fantasy. It was more like ghastly horror. Both of these men would just use her until she was entirely used up.

Thorn might not be as innately brutal as Asp seemed to be. But Thorn was utterly selfish—she could tell that from the first look—and he hadn’t become the alpha male around here by treating other people as human beings.

Asp eventually backed down, muttering something under his breath as he slunk away in disgust.

Riana was hardly relieved. At least a fight would have delayed the inevitable.

But the inevitable was fast approaching. Thorn stepped closer to her and his eyes crawled over her body from her shoulder-length curls to her sensible shoes.

“Are you a whore?” he asked blandly.

“No.” She was so surprised by the question that she managed to speak over the rancid taste in her mouth.

“Good. I don’t do whores, although they’re usually all we get down here. You have a good body, which is the only other thing I require in a woman. Two options.” His eyes—a green so dark it looked black—narrowed as he explained, “Be my woman. Do what I tell you. I’ll keep you safe. Or, if you refuse, I’ll turn you over to the rest of them.”

He gestured back to “the rest of them”. Riana’s mind was in too great a blur to see distinct faces but the rest of the prisoners seemed to be lurking just in the background, like a hungry pack of wolves.

“They’ll take turns using you until they’re bored. You won’t last the night.”

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Hold

Riana knew his final words weren’t an exaggeration. It was possible some lesser alpha male might try to take her as his, but he probably wouldn’t be strong enough to keep her safe from the others for long.

“What’s your decision?” Thorn demanded, looking slightly annoyed at her hesitation.

This was the moment. The one that would decide her fate.

Common sense, social pressure and nearly all the evidence told her to take Thorn up on his offer.

Let him fuck her. Let him keep her alive.

Riana glanced around the prison one more time and her eyes landed on the barred cell of the loner whose name Davis hadn’t known. In the back of her mind, she’d noticed he’d stepped over to watch when she’d laid out the sleaze a minute ago.

Now he was standing silently, one hand resting loosely on a bar.

Her eyes met his for a few seconds and she saw something there she hadn’t seen in anyone else’s here.

It wasn’t kindness or pity or mercy or anything soft.

She couldn’t really name what she’d seen but it reminded her of independence.

She turned back to Thorn.

He was waiting, a smirk of pleased entitlement on his handsome face, as if he never doubted what her answer would be.

That did it. She ignored her reason and followed her instinct.

She turned on her heel and kicked out again, this time landing the blow right on Thorn’s hard, flat stomach.

He grunted and took a step backward, more in surprise than real pain.

It was a good kick but there was no way she could outmaneuver him physically.

“I don’t want you or them,” Riana said loudly, turning her head to look back at the loner in his cell, giving him a significant gaze she could only hope he’d respond to.

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Zannie Adams

A wash of rage transformed Thorn’s face, intensifying when other prisoners started to snicker a little.

Thorn advanced on her like a stalking animal. “We’ll go with the third alternative,”

he gritted out. “I’ll take you first and then throw what’s left back to the rest of them.”

It wasn’t an idle threat. Riana knew he would act on it. She would be beaten and raped and then given to others who would do it to her again and again.

She looked back at the loner and felt a wave of absolute despair when she saw he’d turned his back. On her. On the rest of the prison.

He wasn’t going to respond after all.

Which meant there was absolutely no hope for her.

Riana gulped in what air she could over the strangling lump in her throat and turned to face Thorn with the last bit of courage she possessed.

She’d gambled on the wrong man, it seemed. Foolishly. Impulsively. And now she was going to face the consequences.

Thorn made a grab for her hair, which was in a no-nonsense ponytail hanging down her back. She jerked away but not quickly enough.

He snatched a handful of hair and used it to drag her closer to him, the pull on her scalp so brutal she wanted to cry.

She didn’t cry. Instead, she fought back blindly, doing all she could to knee him in the groin. She landed a glancing blow, one that made him huff, but it wasn’t effective enough to cause him to loosen his hold.

Her fingernails clawed at his chest, trying to gouge him deeply enough to hurt. Her struggles were futile though, as she’d known they’d be.

He twisted her around until her back was against his chest and one powerful arm imprisoned her around the waist.

Then something happened. She was suddenly freed, stumbling away with a whimper of shock, pain and relief.

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Hold

She turned around to see the loner standing in front of a gasping Thorn, whom he must have just punched on the side.

“What the fuck,” Thorn rasped, staring in astonishment up at the other man. “Do you actually want to claim the little bitch?”

The loner didn’t say anything. His expression was stoic, unmoving, and his eyes never left Thorn’s.

When Thorn swung at him, the man caught the fist and began to twist Thorn’s arm around his back. Thorn wasn’t a weakling so the physical power in the move was as shocking as it was impressive.

Thorn managed to pull away and got a swing in at the other man’s abdomen. It landed but didn’t have any evident effect. The other man kept coming, lashing out at Thorn with both his arm and his leg, leaving Thorn doubled over and winded.

No one interfered. It must be some kind of archaic code of honor among criminals.

The whole Hold was buzzing with astonished reaction to the scene but Riana couldn’t look away from the two men fighting.

She was still terrified but for a different reason now. She knew which man was going to win this fight.

She was just scared of what would happen afterward, when she had to give herself to him.

The loner swung again and this time missed, as Thorn finally managed to get in a good move. He leveled a blow at the other man’s face, and his fist glanced off the side of his jaw, leaving blood in its wake.

After that it was a desperate, primitive wrestling match in which it was impossible to pinpoint distinct moves. The two men were well matched, grappling in a tangle of limbs for several minutes before the loner leveled the final blow.

Thorn lay on the floor, bloody and gasping. The loner stood up—not in great shape himself—but he was as stoic and silent as ever as he walked over to Riana.

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Zannie Adams

Their eyes met and she noticed that his were a startling shade of pale blue in his dark face. She swallowed and tried to say something but couldn’t think of anything to say.

The other criminals stepped aside, clearly intimidated by the man who’d just defeated their alpha.

It had been a risk, but Riana had thought he might. He didn’t have the biggest cell but he had the best one—with bars and the private toilet. Just because he didn’t mingle in the warped community that constituted the prison didn’t mean he wasn’t more than capable of tackling it.

She had no hopes that he’d be kind, gentle or loving. But looking at him didn’t sicken her like looking at everyone else she’d seen here.

If she was going to fuck anyone, it was going to be him.

He didn’t say a word as he faced her. And after a minute he took the back of her shirt in his hand and used his grip on it to push her forward toward his cell. He’d understood the silent agreement as much as she had.

She walked with him willingly—although she clearly didn’t have much choice in the matter. He was a little rougher than she was comfortable with when he pushed her into his cell and stepped in afterward.

He locked the barred door behind them. The click of the lock was both horrifying and a relief.