***

ELODIE HAD GONE INTO a trance, twice, in the last who-knew-however-many hours.

The deep jet-black darkness of the brig, and the overwhelming sensation of losing one of her much-needed senses had thrown her into a fitful mess, setting her on edge as she strained to listen to any and every sound around her.

When she had just begun to acclimate to the lack of sight, the ship’s siren screeched, scaring sanity right back out of her.

Now she couldn’t see nor hear.

She’d been locked up for two and a half weeks but this was the first night she had truly felt alive again. Pressing her hand over her thrumming heart, she took pleasure in the feel of it under her palm. She slid it up to clasp her neck to feel her racing pulse. It was wild and wonderful and it was hers alone.

Elodie squinted, but the darkness remained impenetrable. No one could see her.

Maybe he can. She briefly thought of her new neighbor but shrugged it off, enjoying the freedom darkness gave her far too much to care.

At first, she’d been wary, thinking it was a trick, but after so much time, with no change, she relished the sudden privacy.

Elodie ran her hands over her body, massaging the aches and knots away, reaching up under her clothing and readjusting the band around her chest for the first time since she was imprisoned. Everything itched and she had the time and leisure to alleviate it, rubbing the raw parts of her body that had begged for so long to be released. It was bliss.

I could forego a half-cycles food for this.

She wanted more, and even though she was certain she’d be partially deaf from the sirens by the end, it was worth it. Every small comfort couldn’t be taken for granted.

Giddiness assailed her when she should’ve been tired, and excitement where she should’ve been afraid. She stood and stretched, feeling the pressure on her muscles melt away as she moved around without restraint, keeping her arms out in front of her to feel her way.

She raised her arms over her head and leaned back. Clenching her eyes shut, she, let the sounds flow over her. A cool breeze fell across her stomach. The feel of blood pumping freshly throughout her limbs had her lowering back to the ground and reclaiming her spot. Next, she slid off her shoes and let her feet breathe, wiggling her toes and bending the arches of her feet.

Now, if only the sprinklers would go off. She was willing to risk a cold shower even if the chill made her sick afterward.

Small comforts. I’ll pay some prices for small comforts.

A draft hit her and she put her shoes back on, allowing one knee to fall to the side as she hugged the other to her chest.

Her eyes went in the direction of the brig’s door. Had it opened? It niggled but she chalked it up to paranoia, squinting toward Gunner’s cell. She leaned against the bars they shared and rested her head on them. Her mind wandered, and she welcomed the escape.

The cold air suddenly vanished and a thick, heavy, encapsulating bubble of heat surrounded her.

Her nose twitched and the smell of rust and sweat filled it. Her focus zeroed in. She stiffened.

It’s him. It’s all Gunner. The heat and the salt, and now when she inhaled more, there was that same faint smell of hops from that first day. The smell of Gunner’s jacket.

Sweat beaded her brow and she leaned in to rub it across her knee. The more she took in the smells surrounding, the more she was consumed by it. The more she liked it. It was thick and overpowering, dark and gloomy. For a single moment, the smell made her feel at home.

She scooted a little closer to his side and basked in his scent, closing her eyes and letting her mind craft a fantasy to take her away. One where she didn’t have to be on edge every second of every day. One where she could appreciate his smell for what it was to her—desirable—and not feel bad about it. She let the walls fall away until she could imagine herself for who she really.

A woman. One who wasn’t alone among men. Only one man.

She let go of her knee and curled her hand around the bar below her head, the backs of her fingers coming in contact with his clothes on the other side. A sizzling twitch took her by surprise, but she didn’t shy away from the contact.

Elodie felt him move and press closer to her even though she wasn’t sure if he really knew she was there. She wiggled her fingers, seeking more contact, actually wanting him to know she was there, but Gunner didn’t move again.

Stop wanting dangerous things. Not with this heat he gives off. His body was warm, far warmer than what could be normal for any man.

She’d been in this position before, leaning into the bars, her thoughts lost in her head when her dad was still with her. This was different. With her father, it’d been security; with Gunner, it was comfort.

Gunner was attractive. Elodie had noticed it early on. It was in the way he moved and the air he had about him. There was something so vastly different about him compared to the other men that surrounded her that she’d taken notice. Not only did he frighten her, he lured her in. There was a rawness in the way he moved, the way he spoke, and it was so exacting that it demanded her to believe in it.

Everything about me is fake. She wiggled her fingers again feeling his clothes abrade her knuckles. I know fake. He’s not fake. He smells so good. Her throat closed up when a warm breath fell across her temple.

Elodie didn’t jerk back even though her instincts warned her too. Instead, she remained still in hopes of prolonging the moment, knowing his lips were a hair's breadth away.

If things were different...

The thought was almost too dangerous to complete. She clenched her eyelids tighter.

If things were different, I wouldn’t even be in this situation.

His breath caressed her forehead and she sighed with contentment.

She didn’t know how long they remained that way but when the sirens finally stopped, she wasn’t prepared for it to be over.

Elodie sat upright and pressed both of her hands to her ears, trying futilely to get the throbbing to go away, kneading the flesh at the crux of her lobe. Real sound slowly returned, and with it, the voices of the others around her. The lights came on with a warning flicker.

The door groaned before her vision fully returned and another, very different bout of chaos ensued.

“Holy shit!” Kallan’s voice eclipsed the rest. “Royce?”

His exclamation was followed by others and she tore her attention away from the guards storming into the brig to look at the man on the other side of Gunner’s cell. Elodie’s eyes widened.

“Everybody stand up!” One of the guards screamed.

She followed the order without thought, staring at Royce. He hung up against his cell door, his arm hooked and crushed through the bars over the door’s locking panel. Blood flowed over it, dripped beneath it, and ran in rivulets of rusty burgundy to pool on the floor.

That smell...

“Get in the center of your cells and put your arms above your heads,” the same guard roared.

Gunner stepped forward, blocking her line of sight to Royce’s body. She glanced at Gunner, but he was looking at the guards.

Shit. Elodie scrambled to the center of her cell and raised her arms. Everyone else was already in position and she was thankful no one was paying attention to her. They were all staring at Royce’s hanging, blood-drained body.

“What do you think happened here?” one of the guards said, covering his nose. “Man, the smell in here is foul.”

“I don’t know,” another replied, “but maybe it caused the alarms to go off? Doesn’t explain the others though.”

Others? She didn’t like the sound of that and only prayed that her dad wasn’t among these others.

“Ballsy’s going to get his dick shot off for this and we’re the ones he’s gonna take it out on. Damn, did he claw through his wrist? It’s all torn up.”

Elodie chanced a look back at the guards who inspected the cell beyond. She hadn’t known it then, not in the darkness, and not next to Gunner, but that the brig smelled once again like blood. She’d been too focused on her sudden freedom and Gunner’s proximity to realize. She gagged.

“Maybe he couldn’t take it any longer,” one of them mused.

“Fuck! And we’re going to have to report this to Juke. Shit, we may be dead too after this news. Lost flesh... He hates losing a profit.” The guard stepped back from the body, holding his nose with one hand, while the other rested on the gun at his hip. Her gaze zeroed in on it as he unbuttoned the clasp and lifted it out of its sheath. He rested his hand on it, a finger hovering over the safety. “Let’s get him down and take him to the other corpses. Doc’ll want to inspect him too.”

Her arms went numb above her head.

Other corpses...

“I’m not touching him.”

“Get the androids then!” The one with the gun turned his attention to the rest of the brig and she snapped her gaze straight ahead, hoping not to catch his eye. She recognized him, and recognized the others too. They all had shifts before, but she didn’t see the ones she hated most among those who were there. Out the corner of her eye, several androids moved forward and began to work on Royce’s body.

“Check every lock in here, make sure none of them have been tampered with. Double check it. The lights were only off in this section of the ship... What the fuck you think you’re looking at?” the lead guard yelled at a nearby prisoner.

“There’s no way they could’ve gotten out. Why the extra effort?” another said. They moved through and started, simultaneously, going through each cell’s panel.

“Look how scrawny this one is,” one of them said, motioning toward her. Elodie stiffened but held her stance. “Weeks with minimal food, they couldn’t get out, let alone go on a killing spree.” He moved past her cell and she sagged a little.

One by one, the guards went through each unit. Twice over, two at each lock, verifying that nothing had been tampered with. She glanced back at where Royce had hung and wondered why it even mattered.

He’s right. None of us could’ve done that. Her gaze moved to Gunner and a shiver traveled like death’s fingers down her spine.

He was looking at the floor in front of him, head bowed down, his hair falling forward and obscuring his face, and his arms raised but only halfway above him. He appeared tired, and his pose suggested as much.

But it was just that, a pose. He could do that.

He could’ve done it.

The second guard checked his lock and stepped away. Gunner tilted his head and caught her eyes. The milkiness of them gave nothing away.

Shhhh. His lips moved for only her to see.

“All’s clear,” one of the guards called out. “Let’s leave the cleanup for the androids.”

The one with the gun passed by her cell, stopped, and turned her way. Elodie swallowed but he kept turning to face the rest of the hold.

“You can all lower your arms,” he said and waited as they complied.

Her arms dropped to her sides, prickling with renewed blood flow. She shifted slightly toward Gunner to keep him and the guard in her sight.

“Don’t get comfortable. We’ll be back soon,” he bellowed. He holstered his gun and strode out the door, leaving them as suddenly as he’d come in. The other guards followed in his wake, looking as haunted as any brig prisoner and she wondered briefly if this Juke guy would really kill them.

Elodie remained where she stood for some time, eyeing the robots that had begun to clean Royce’s cell. They released a cloudy chemical smelling gas over everything and then beamed lasers over it next.

It wasn’t until her legs started to give out that she moved back to the wall, sliding down the center of it.

She felt eyes on her.

She felt the blazing heat of them melt the skin on her body and pierce through her layers.

She knew Gunner was willing her to look his way, and she fought with a willpower far stronger than her own. His. He sat in his usual spot, right where she imagined him, in the dark, leaned up on the bars.

She wouldn’t look but she knew.

If she looked, she’d see his jacket, see it piled up by his hip and she couldn’t muster enough courage to do it. And her lack of courage at that moment was stronger than his willpower. Even if she wanted to ask him about it, she couldn’t do it in front of the androids.

Only an idiot would talk among another’s tech. So she watched the androids instead, burning, spraying, lighting up the dirt until the space practically sparkled. The blood vanished in a haze.

I asked for the jacket.

Elodie couldn’t help but feel Royce’s death was her fault, but even as she mulled it over, she kept second-guessing herself. None of the other prisoners said anything when she glanced briefly around.

Everyone appeared lost in their own thoughts or passed out because there was no better way to spend their time. No one paid her or Gunner any attention, and no one met her eyes. She was almost convinced that she had missed something and was positive that more happened in the dark than she had realized.

So how did he get his jacket back?

The androids stepped out of Royce’s cell and began to clean the area beyond. They split into two groups, each going down the pathway in opposite directions, and as they continued her excitement grew. The aerosol that shot out from their hands filled the spaces in and around the bars, the floor, the walls, and settled on the layers of dirt that clouded their surfaces. The brig was being cleaned for the first time since she arrived. Elodie didn’t even mind when one of the robots stood before her own cage and misted the chemicals all over her, making her cough, and didn’t mind when their scanners beamed in afterward and disintegrated the grime. The lasers made her eyes hurt.

The robots moved on to Kallan’s cell and those beyond.

She was still filthy after they were done but cleaner than she’d been in weeks. Her eyes followed the bony curves of her fingers as she rubbed the palms of her hands. They were no longer sweaty and sticky, but smooth to the touch and pale. She touched her hair next where it still hung in strands around her ears, still thickened with grease but now lighter and softer. Elodie took in a deep breath, loving that for a moment, she smelled nothing.

“So your hair is blonde,” Gunner murmured.

Elodie let her short hair fall over her face and pressed her cheeks into her bent knees, hoping to smudge up her face some more.

“And here I thought you had light brown locks. Goes to show first impressions are rarely accurate.”

She didn’t answer him, still uncertain whether it was in her best interest or not, but he kept slithering his voice into her ear.

“So we’re back to silence?” His voice was lower than before. Her eyes darted to the working androids, unsure if they were far enough away to hear him.

“You’re a smart one, Ely, but they can’t hear us, won’t record us.”

She frowned. I’m being too easy to read. How does he know? Her frown deepened. How does he seem to know everything? Why isn’t anyone else noticing him? Something was just out of grasp and the more she reached for it, the more unsure she really wanted to understand.

Elodie focused on her grey space as the image of milky eyes, bleeding over in red, fought to consume her thoughts. She pressed her palm into her forehead where Gunner had breathed on her hours prior.

I still feel it. Him. The spot burned.

The androids walked past her cell and headed for the doors, meeting up with the others who had finished at the same time in perfect synchronization. They left in unison, stepping out the door before it fully opened, and when it closed behind them, quiet conversations picked back up throughout the brig. The ventilation system turned on, sucking the remaining haze away.

“Well that was fun,” Kallan chuckled. “Can’t say I’ve seen that happen yet.”

“How long you’ve been in here anyway?” Gunner called out to him.

“Hard to say, a month maybe? Longer than the rest.”

“What about you, Ely?” Gunner asked her next.

Kallan answered for her. “Ely got here, what now? Two, three weeks ago? It’s hard to keep track of time when most cycles blend into the next. Came in here with the rest of these fuckers who didn’t fight back.”

Two and a half weeks ago.

“They’re part of a mining crew coming back from Andromeda with a full load of ore to Gliese,” he continued. “They were attacked and boarded right outside commercial space.”

“We couldn’t warp without a wormhole with our capacity at overload,” another chimed in. “We couldn’t flee for the same reason and were outnumbered.”

“Did you send out a distress call?” Gunner asked.

“Fuck yeah, we did, and you’d think being right on the outskirts we’d have gotten the attention of one of the patrol ships, but no one answered. None of the other mining ships were nearby either. They barraged us with fire, taking out our thrusters. Our drives came next. It shot our life support systems into effect and we shelled up, trying to wait them out, to wait for help. But we weren’t prepared and our stores were already on the low end at that point. Our shit-brained captain bargained our lives if we gave up, little good that did him. He and the bridge crew were all killed on site. Glad they were.”

She remembered when it all went down; she was with her dad repairing the giant excavators and haulers. They had been so deep in the machines at that point—she and a few others who sat in cells of their own in the brig—that they had no idea what was happening in the upper decks. When going on repair for machines massive enough to harvest continents, they sometimes didn’t emerge for days at a time.

They would pack enough food and supplies to go on a prospector investigation, bringing with them the bare minimum of necessities, because whatever was brought had to be maneuvered through a labyrinth of gears and metal. The behemoths she often worked on were their own little graveyards on a mining ship. She and her dad had come upon more than one corpse lost within the metal.

Their small team had emerged to strangers pointing guns at them, and guns that continued to be held on them until they were walked off their ship and into where she sat now.

We didn’t fight them. There was blood on the walls. It was easy to know what course of action was likely to keep you alive when you’re confronted with bloody walls.

“What about you, Kallan? How’d you get here?” Gunner asked, pulling her out of her memories.

“Same as them but less climactic. Was caught out in the open and taken. They took me and my ship, even seeing through my cloaking device, and apprehended all I had. But my hide will bounce back, I know what’s ahead for us,” he grumbled. “Royce though, didn’t expect something as desperate as suicide to get out of here.”

Her ears perked up. Someone else would’ve noticed. She didn’t need to look to know Gunner wasn’t hiding it.

“If I’d’ve known I would’ve stopped him,” Gunner’s voice tickled her ear. Elodie felt her pulse jump. “He gave me back the jacket last night in the dark, was surprised myself when he pushed it through the bars. Didn’t get a chance to ask him what he was doing before the sirens went off.”

Liar.

“Odd,” Kallan mused.

“Agreed. Looks like we’re not the only ones dealing with death today though.”

He’s changing to subject...

Elodie chanced a look at Gunner through her hair but quickly glanced away when their eyes met.

“Sounds like someone went on a killing spree above,” one of the other prisoners interjected. “Better them than us.”

“Hmph. Until they’re back here for recruitment,” Kallan said.

“They fucking warned us this time. I wonder how many spots are needing to be filled this time. Because at this rate, there’s not many of us left to fill ‘em, not if they’re planning on turning a profit off our flesh as it seems.”

“Better chances of surviving if they’re not allowed to kill us...”

Elodie tuned them out as the conversation wore on. Gunner had gone quiet as well and as time passed without further incident, the silence reclaimed the space around her. Her ever-begging stomach gnawed her from the inside out and the grey space grew easier enter. Missing the morning meal took its toll and she closed her eyes, slipping into sleep without realizing it.

When she woke up sometime later, the lights were dimming, and the brig door was opening. An android walked through, alone, and without a guard to distribute food. There were a lot of firsts happening for her in the last half week, and the energy to be surprised had all but left her. The robot left them to their barely sated hunger.

After she was done scarfing her ration and popping one of the water gels in her mouth, she moved toward the bars closest to Gunner. The dark, though not like the night before, gave her back enough courage to talk to him.

He lifted his dead eyes to follow her movements, and she became lost in their frosted appearance. His lips twitched at one side for a second before vanishing.

They stayed like that for some time, watching each other in the low light as the cycle lengthened. Coughs and rattling snores of those around them grew. It was as if they waited until the witching hour to be alone and Elodie almost missed the roaring privacy they had been granted the previous night. She missed the temporary closeness she had to another person. She missed the freedom.

She’d come to expect his attention and that disturbed her to the core.

Shadows obscured most of his features and she dropped her gaze to follow the grey and black shades of his gun tattoos, and along his broad jaw.

Elodie noticed when his breath changed to expand his chest, bringing her attention to the outline of his shirt and the muscles beneath. It clung and bunched in all the right spots, and as she focused on the cloth’s subtle movements, his muscles bulged a little farther out. Her brow furrowed and her cheeks heated.

A jerkish smile lifted the sides of his lips cooling off her sudden ardor. She shivered and quickly glanced away, screaming in her head the danger she was putting herself in.

The sound of him moving brought her attention back to him. He picked up the jacket on his other side and placed it on the ground between them, and without a word, threaded and squeezed the material through. Elodie gripped the other end and tugged, and before long had the material in her hands.

She shrugged it on and the smell of him consumed her. It was delicious and spicy, minty and strong. She tugged the collar closer to her nose and caught just a hint of menthol and hops, and lingering cannabis.

The material sat heavy and thick over her shoulders but she didn’t mind as the chill she’d grown used to left her skin. The jacket covered her completely and left excess to hide behind. It was a shield, a cocoon, an added layer of protection. Safety. Gunner had given her safety... She wanted to cry out from bliss at the feel of worn flannel surrounding her hands.

She zipped up the front and checked the pockets, knowing she’d find nothing. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he said, his voice a barely-there whisper.

“Do what?” she asked, hunching into the jacket and all its layered glory. Its heavy warmth.

“Zip it up. It makes you look like a woman with how large it is on you. Keep it unzipped and the sleeves rolled past your wrists and don’t wear it during the day.”

She mulled over the suggestion, having already decided to take it off during the day anyway. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

A few minutes went by as she struggled with the sleeves and redressed her new shield. Her eyes flared suddenly and her fumbling ceased.

Shit! I just gave myself away!

Elodie turned to stone, her mouth opening and closing like a suffocating fish. His eyes burned into her.

“I’m not a woman,” she mustered out in defense, trying to calmly convince him and wishing her heart would stop its pounding. “But I don’t want to give the others more fuel to that fire. Eventually, they might stop caring about what I really am and just focus on what I appear to be.”

Gunner rolled his head to face her directly. “Not a comforting thought.”

“No,” she whispered.

“I’ve completed the end of my bargain. Now it’s your turn.”

Elodie nodded. “Did you kill Royce?” She watched his face but it gave nothing away, only leaving her with more questions than before.

“Does it matter?”

“How did you do it?” she asked.

Gunner dropped his head on the bars and flicked his fingers at Royce’s cell. “I powered down the lights to the brig, broke through the security on my cell door, left, and when I returned, remembered our agreement and entered his cell. The rest you already know.”

Elodie couldn’t tell if he was taunting her or not but her stomach went queasy and she turned to look at the other prisoners around them, to see if anyone was listening in on their conversation.

“They’re asleep.”

“I don’t believe you.” She turned back toward him.

“You don’t? You don’t even know me.”

“Then why did you come back? If you can escape so easily, move through an unknown ship without getting lost, why would you come back?”

His lips lifted again. Elodie still couldn’t read him.

“Maybe I came back for you.”

His words left a mark and she shook off the shiver of fear that wanted to crawl through her. “Tell me the truth.”

“I did. I’m truth incarnate.”

“Prove it,” she hissed and his smile widened into a smirk.

“Why should I?”

“You can’t.” He can’t because it’s illogical and not possible. “So how did you really kill Royce?”

Suddenly several ration bars and a couple water gels appeared in his hand. Gunner shoved them through the bars where no one else could see.

“I told you.”

Elodie stared at the food as if it answered all her questions. Proof. Or was it? He could’ve been saving them up... Her fingers drifted over them lightly to prove to herself that they were real.

“Where did you get these?” she asked.

Gunner smirked but didn’t answer her. Several minutes passed and her belly groaned.

“That’s my proof,” he said, “Now eat something before you die.”

Elodie wondered if it was a trap, waiting for him to reach through the barrier and seize her hand or her throat and hurt her, but as the seconds passed and Gunner did nothing more than watch her, she closed her hands over one of the rations and tugged up the extra length of her jacket. She twisted to face him dead on and ate the food out of the prying eyes of the others. Satisfaction wasn’t the only thing messing with her head, but shock.

Why is he feeding me? She couldn’t meet his gaze.

When she was done, and after hiding rest of the rations in her pockets, she asked, “What do you want from me?”

He leaned back, and she realized he had been hiding her from view as well. Her chest squeezed and she suddenly wanted to move closer to him. It snapped her back to reality.

That’s exactly what he wants me to do. She jerked back.

“I want you to help me pass the time,” he sighed. “Distract me.”

Elodie hummed and nodded. “I’ll try.” If he was willing to give her food, then she could at least talk to him for a little while. “So what do you want to talk about?”

“What did you do before this?” Gunner asked, waving his hand. The question was innocuous and took her by surprise.

“I was a machiner, like most of the others here. I maintained mining tech at all stages of the process, it’s what I was trained to do and what I’m good at.”

“So you like machines...”

“They make sense, they don’t change, and you don’t need to be anything but what you are around them. Once you learn what you’re doing, what you need to look for, how to maintain it, there’s nothing more you need to know. They’re easy.”

“Yeah they are,” he laughed under his breath and she was unsure why. “So machines... It’s what you’ve done your whole life?”

“Yes.”

“And you like what you’re doing?”

Did she? “Sure.”

“I just don’t see it. How does someone like you get into a field like that? And mining of all things... Can you do a more boring job? Although doing machines doesn’t all have to be boring.”

Elodie narrowed her eyes. “Someone like me?”

“Forgive me. I phrased that wrong. Someone so clearly ill-equipped like you to go into a field like that? You seem more,” he paused but continued before she could interject, “more like the type to go into—I don’t know—something less physically demanding? Like medicine. Or food service...”

She sat back, her body settling against the wall as she debated on how to answer. She slid her hands back into her pockets and curled her fingers. Her dad came to mind, and the long hours of her youth at his side. He was the reason why she did what she did, learning the trade that he worked in because it was easy, and because there’d been nothing better to do. Once her mom died, he signed on for an extended multi-year contract with the government, knowing full well he wasn’t returning to civilization, or to her if she chose to stay behind. Elodie let his choices become her own and not a day had gone by where she wasn’t sure if she regretted it or not.

He dressed her up like a boy, sheared off her long hair, and bought her new clothes. Even as a child she knew what he was doing and never argued or fought against it. Chesnik never offered her another option and she never really tried to pursue it. No one fought him on his choices, not since her mom died, and she became his apprentice, a young boy learning his father’s trade. The persona was easy and involved little effort on her part.

For years it worked, flawlessly, going from one job to the next, moving unnoticed like all worker bees did. Until she got her first period and her body started to change.

“I’ve offended you.” His voice jolted her back to the present.

“I was thinking... I joined because it was my dad’s trade and it was easy.”

He leveled her a hard look that she couldn’t read. “That answers one thing. I really didn’t want to call you an idiot for terrible vocational choices.”

That made her bristle.

“But I’m still confused on why you stayed.”

Because I knew nothing else! Elodie wanted to shout at him. She hated that he voiced her own brewing questions so easily. She gritted her teeth and clenched her hands, feeling the tension rise before letting it go.

“I stayed for my dad,” she said.

“And where is he now? Dead?”

“He’s somewhere on this ship,” her voice wavered. “And now I don’t know if he’s dead.”

Gunner sat upright and clasped the bar between them. She stiffened and leaned back. “He’s on this ship?”

Elodie swallowed and nodded. “They took him in the last recruitment. The cycle before you arrived and took his cell.”

“What does he look like?” he asked, his voice harder, lower than before, making her heart beat faster.

“Why does it matter?”

“Tell me.”

Elodie clenched her hands tighter. “Bald. He’s bald and tall, taller than me with thin wrinkles. He’s missing two fingers on his left hand and both hands and arms are covered in scars. Like mine.” She lifted her arms to show him, tracing some of the burns she’d received over the years and showing the pads of her fingers where her skin had healed over a dozen times. “But a lot more and a lot worse.”

Gunner relaxed, visibly, as he eyed her hand. “Good,” he said confusing her even more.

“Why good?”

“He wasn’t one of the men I killed last night.”

She couldn’t tell if he was taunting her or not and she leaned back slightly to get a better look at him. It didn’t help. Nothing about Gunner was easy to read.

“So that’s why you said this cell doesn’t belong to me. I get it now,” he huffed. “Speaking of which,” he got to his feet and slowly spun in a full circle before stopping and facing her again. “I need to mark.”

Elodie frowned. “You need to what?”

But he was already cupping the clasp of his pants and unzipping them. It took her several damning moments of confusion until she realized what he was doing, shifting his clothes and grasping his dick. She twisted away, scrambling to the center of her own cell, but not before she saw it.

“You might want to turn away.” He chuckled low, making her ears burn and an unpleasant blush heat her skin. I saw it. I saw his cock.

A faint stream of water toyed with her disgust as she grappled with what the hell was happening. He continued to taunt her as he moved around and she pressed her palms hard against her closed eyes.

“You know, Ely, it’s rude to look when a man is...doing his business. Someone should have taught you that by now.” Low raspy laughs punctuated his words.

“I didn’t look,” she stammered, embarrassed. Not because she hadn’t seen dick in her life but that it was his dick.

“Tsk, tsk.”

She counted down the seconds, waiting for it to stop, and hoping to god that none of it reached her space so she wouldn’t have to smell the stench of urine all night. Who the hell is this man?

Damnit, I’m giving myself away again...

Elodie lowered her hands and peered over her shoulder. Gunner’s back was toward her. She sucked in a shaky breath and recomposed herself, pleased with the courage she was able to muster to look at him dead on.

And then he turned to the side, holding his cock, and she regretted every decision she had made in the last twenty-four years of her life. Because Gunner was big.

He stopped and their eyes caught, his widened in shock, knowing hers looked the same. She released a long strenuous, almost painful whistle of air while waiting for the next move. His shock was short-lived, ending in a knowing smile she wanted to tear right off. But she had already played her cards and refused to back down.

“Curious?” Gunner cleared his throat and faced her, giving her full frontal viewing access. Elodie dropped her gaze because she was curious, and shrugged.

“I expected more.”

“What do you mean, more?”

Gunner’s cock hardened before her eyes. His hand stroked it once, slow and deliberate. His long fingers wrapped around his own girth. Her legs clamped together and she shrugged again. Suddenly she was even more thankful for the jacket; it was one more layer to hide her newly found shock and horror behind.

He just peed. On everything. And I’m focused on his size.

Elodie felt more messed up by the second.

“More,” she stammered. “Don’t act so offended. Not everyone can be well endowed.”

That’s right. My dick is bigger than yours. It is now, at least. Now that she had a mental image to go by.

He tucked his erection away with a grunt but a heavy protruding tent remained. “You want to compare sizes?”

“No.”

“Drop your pants and let’s see.”

“I don’t drop my pants for men, only women,” she said quickly, her heart beating a little faster. “You’re clearly not a woman.”

“Clearly not.” He laughed again. “But now you have me curious if I have a contender. I can’t have a contender.”

“Why is that?” she asked before she could stop herself.

“Because the first woman I see is mine.”

She stiffened—heart racing—wanting to jump right out of her chest. The words that came out of his mouth were words she didn’t want to hear.

“And I won’t have her running off with a man with a better package. Women have a million men to choose from out in space, I need to make sure they don’t look past me.”

Elodie shrunk under the pressure of his gaze, feeling his intensity like she always did, straight to the very core. It left all her layers behind in ashes, weak and useless on the floor. Her tongue felt too big for her mouth.

She watched warily as he reclaimed his spot next to the bars, draping his arms over his knees, keenly aware that the tent of his pants appeared to grow bigger the closer he got to her. It’s just my imagination.

The tension between them was stifling and it was too thick for her to respond. She couldn’t think of a good retort. Her silence had always been a shield for her but now it felt no better than yet another prison.

What if he finds out I’m a woman after all? The question made her shiver and she wished again for the darkness to return.

As time crept by, all types of thoughts filled her head as she tried to imagine what Gunner had really meant. It made her feel things she didn’t need to be feeling, because the idea had an allure to it.

‘Because the first woman I see is mine.’

Mine. The word held weight. It drew her in. She pulled her knees to her chest and hugged them, squeezing her legs together as much as she could. A knot grew in her belly, a faded yet forming bloom of arousal.

Elodie choked back a self-deprecating giggle. Weeks in a cell, barely fed, and covered in dirt, and now...fucking aroused. It was laughable. It really was.

She tried to argue it out. Surely what she felt wasn’t actually arousal but something else, something less feminine, possibly affection. But the idea was shot down as soon as it arose. She didn’t want to hug Gunner, or crawl into his lap and nuzzle him, to whisper sweet nothings in his ear. She didn’t want to sneak a soft kiss through the gaps of the metal between them. It wasn’t affection she felt.

Maybe she’d chalk it up to lust. Animal magnetism. Elodie plucked at her lower lip. After everything that had happened—that was still going to happen—a little relief from the stress seemed like a good idea. At least her body felt that way.

Elodie got to her feet and started to pace. The smell followed her as did his eyes; she didn’t need to spare him a glance to know. Her sixth sense had come out strong since he was thrown into the cell next to hers.

“Ely.”

She stopped in her tracks.

“Come back to me,” Gunner beckoned.

She didn’t move.

“Please.” He said it so low she wasn’t sure if she’d actually heard it. She turned to face him and slithered back down to her spot next to him.

“Thank you.” His head fell on the bars, and Elodie was taken aback by how tired he looked.

“Are you okay?” she asked, suddenly concerned.

“Am I?”

Her eyes went to the food rations that he hadn’t touched, sitting on the other side. “You need to eat. You haven’t eaten yet.”

“I’m not hungry for food...”

Elodie shook her head and crawled forward, and she heard him lift up to watch her as she positioned her shoulder into gap closest to the food. She dropped the jacket, snaked her fingers through, twisting her wrist, pushing her limb between the small space. It was slow going and for once she found her emaciated body helpful. The cold metal rubbed the skin of her arms uncomfortably as she strained and reached, spreading her fingers out, managing to roll both water gels in her direction.

She wiggled the ration closer until she was able to grip it between the tips of her fingers. Pulling out was just as difficult.

With her conquest complete, and the food in her hands, she went back to Gunner, who hadn’t moved during the entire demonstration. He hadn’t shot up to grab a hold of her, but simply looked at her with a tired fascination. Elodie pushed back her bangs and offered him the nourishment. “You need to eat. The first days are the worst.”

“Why don’t you keep it?” His eyes flashed red, startling her, but returned to their milky dead sheen soon after.

“I’m not hungry.” She pushed the food back into his cell. A peace offering. “And because I don’t want to know what happens to those that steal from you.”

“They die.”

“There you go.” Elodie pushed the food a little farther in and jerked her fingers back out. “Good enough reason not to eat your food.”

“I’m not hungry for food,” he whispered.

“What are you hungry for?”

His crimson irises staked her to the spot. It was all the answer she needed, as damning as the moment she decided to speak to him in the first place. His stare spoke more than any amount of words uttered ever could.

Her fate was sealed.

She turned away slowly and curled up on her side. Squeezing her eyelids shut, she pressed her hand hard over her heart, and wished for the sanctuary of her grey place. How she longed to go there and never return.

He knows.