My sneakers crunch into leaves and snap twigs as I run. Branches slap my arms and snag in the sleeves of my torn blouse. My pulse races so loudly in my ears that I can hardly hear anything else, other than the huffing of each breath, ripped from my throat by exertion.

Years ago, the doctor told Varian that my lungs were permanently damaged from growing up on Ananke. From breathing toxic fumes while my body was still developing. Varian didn’t mind. He liked me weak, as long as my shortcomings didn’t affect my performance.

Fuck my performance. My weak lungs are now a risk to my life. Those long walks weren’t enough. I should have been running. I should have been doing calisthenics with Barrett. I should have been pushing myself. I will, once this is all over.

Please, god, let this be almost over.

When I stop to catch my breath, I hear footsteps behind me. The men have made it into the woods. I can’t tell how many there are but they aren’t running. They don’t seem worried that I’ll get away.

“Mallory!” My name echoes through the forest toward me, and I freeze as the blood in my veins runs cold, in spite of the heat of the day. The sweat beading all over my skin.

How do they know my name? It’s not like Barrett could tell them. I mean, I guess he could have written it in the dirt, but he wouldn’t have. He wouldn’t give me up.

“Come on out, sweetheart!” that same voice calls. “This’ll go better for you if we don’t have to drag you out.” Chill bumps rise up on my arms, in spite of the sweat still beading there, when I realize I recognize that voice. I can’t place it, but I know it.

At least it’s not Varian.

I press forward again, slowly this time. Careful where I put my feet. I can hear the stream up ahead, between my own huffing breaths. Over the crunch of footsteps following my trail.

Have I left a trail?

“Mallory!” It’s a second voice, but this one’s also familiar. How is that possible? I don’t know anyone in zone three, other than Varian, Barrett and the people at the Sorority.

The stream appears up ahead, but my relief is short-lived. This is where Barrett told me to wait for him, but I have no idea where to hide, and the men are getting closer.

Near panic, I duck behind a thick clump of underbrush and set my satchel on the ground. Through the tangle of brush and vines, I can see large swaths of the forest. Does that mean I’m also visible?

For a few minutes, I ignore the voices calling my name. There are several of them now, but I don’t recognize the new ones. Their footsteps clomp closer and closer, and a couple of them sound uneven. Lumbering. When they get close enough for me to see, I understand why.

Two of the men are carrying Barrett by his wrists and ankles, his unconscious form draped between them, brushing the ground with every step.

No! I clap one hand over my mouth. The men I can see from my hiding spot look bloody and bruised, but so does Barrett. He was outnumbered, four to one. No, wait. Five to one, I realize as a fifth man steps into sight, headed for the stream with his water pouch open.

Varian. Shit.

I scan the faces of the men with him, and now I understand. Two of them are his bodyguards from before prison. Leon—he looks different with a broken nose. And Filip, I think. They were with him long before he bought me.

They were in the guard lineup, the day Varian beat Billy to death.

What the hell are they doing here? What are the chances they’d wind up in the same prison as Varian, much less in the same zone?

Slim to none. Unless his father paid someone off.

I watch, trembling as quietly as I can, while Varian’s men lay Barrett on the ground, then join him at the stream to refill their pouches and drop purification tablets into the water. Varian looks around as he caps his pouch. “Mallory! Come on out, sugar. You’ve been a very bad girl. It’s time to come home and face your punishment.”

It’s like he’s never heard the saying about catching flies with honey, rather than vinegar.

“If I have to drag you out, this’ll go much worse for you.”

I remember. He had to pull me out from under the bed once. I spent three days in the hospital. But there’s no hospital here. If I go out there, he’ll hurt me, and even if I survive, there’ll be no one to put me back together. Just like there’s no one to put Barrett back together, right now.

I can’t just leave him with Varian. But I wouldn’t do Barrett any good if I gave myself up.

“You’re not leaving me much choice, Mal,” Varian calls as he turns slowly in a circle, scanning the forest for movement. “You’re not going to make me hurt him, are you? Not after he’s already taken such a beating, trying to protect you…”

No. No!

Varian pulls his foot back and kicks Barrett in the ribs.

I cringe from the blow, but Barrett doesn’t even flinch. He’s out cold. I have to look closely to make sure he’s even still breathing.

“The next blow will break his ribs, and there’s no one out here to set a broken bone, Mallory. Or fix a punctured lung.”

“Like he’ll live long enough for that,” Filip whispers, evidently unaware that I’m close enough to hear him.

“Come on, sugar. Do the right thing for your lover. You don’t want to be the cause of his pain, do you?”

I don’t. Tears fill my eyes, and I blink to clear my vision because I’m afraid wiping them will rustle the brush I’m crouched behind and give me away.

“Okay…” Varian shrugs. Then he pulls his foot back and kicks Barrett again.

Barrett’s eyes flutter, and he grimaces. But he doesn’t wake up. He’ll be black and blue when he regains consciousness. But giving myself up won’t stop that. If I turn myself in, they’ll just beat us both.

Varian turns in another circle, and now his jaw is clenched. His eyes are narrowed in fury, and I know that look. “I’m done playing with you Mallory. Come out right now, or I’ll fucking kill him.” He makes a gesture to the biggest of his guards, and the big guy puts his foot on Barrett’s neck. “Fucker’s got it coming, but you can keep him alive a little longer by coming out here. Protect him like he tried to protect you.”

My hands are shaking. I have to grit my teeth to keep them from chattering. I don’t know what to do…

“Evan. Do it,” Varian says, and the big guy starts applying pressure on Barrett’s neck with his foot. “He’ll break your lover’s neck. Remember Billy? You know I’ll go through with this, sugar. His life is in your hands.”

A whine leaks up from my throat, and I cut it off before it can be heard. Barrett would tell me to stay put. I know he would. But for the first time since I met him, Barrett is helpless, and I can’t let him die. I can’t.

“Kill him,” Varian says.

Evan leans forward, shifting his weight onto the foot pressed into Barrett’s neck.

“No!” I pop up from my hiding place, shaking with fear.

Evan lifts his foot, looking to Varian for instructions. Varian waves him off, then he marches toward me. “Mallory. Good to see you again, sugar. You remember Filip and Leon, don’t you?” There’s a cruel glint in his eyes. “Because they remember you.”

“Best blow job this side of the galaxy,” Leon says, wiping blood from beneath his nose, and I can only glare at him. “We’ve missed you, Mal.”

“Come give me a hug,” Varian orders.

I settle my satchel over my shoulder and circle my clump of brush toward him, breathing deeply. Trying to slow my racing heart. Varian heads for me with his arms open, rage shining in his eyes, and each step I take feels like a step backward in time. Like someone’s reversing the vid of my life, playing it all backward until I’m right back there again. With Varian.

I’m going to be sick.

My stomach lurches, and I bend over with my hands on my knees. My breakfast deserts me, and I scramble to keep my bag out of the mess, as it swings forward, off my shoulder. I still feel sick, but there’s nothing left to throw up. But I stay bent over while the men laugh at me. I’m milking this moment for every second of delay it brings.

“Don’t make me come get you, Mallory,” Varian says.

Slowly, I stand. I feel like my existence just got a million times smaller. Like someone’s zipped me up in a dress I can’t fit into anymore. I’m too big for this now, because I’ve fucking grown! But instead of bursting the seams, I’m trapped by them. I can’t move. I’m suffocating. Panicking.

“Breathe,” Varian orders, and I realize that I’m actually panicking. Hyperventilating at the very thought of going back. “Take a deep breath, sugar. Then move your ass.”

I make myself walk, because if I don’t, he’ll hurt me.

He’ll hurt me anyway. I sent him to prison.

When I’m close enough, Varian wraps me in a toxic embrace. I’m smothering in him. Choking on him. He’s as poisonous as the air on my homeworld ever was, and I can’t fucking escape him.

He smiles as he takes my hand, as if we’re lovers on a casual stroll. “Welcome home, sugar. Let’s go get reacquainted.”

We walk for at least two hours. Varian sets a slow pace, but not for my benefit. Barrett is heavy, and even though the other guys take turns carrying him, he slows them down. But Varian refuses to leave him.

They let me keep my satchel, but I’m hesitant to dig in it for food, even though I’m starving, because I’m afraid that if they see it, they’ll take it, even though their bags are heavy with their haul from the supply crate.

Finally, not long after the sun has passed its apex, we come to a building all alone in the middle of a field. The back of it looks oddly and catastrophically crushed. Like some giant tried to squish it like a bug, but only managed to hit half of it

Varian grabs my arm and drags me through the front door. The central hallway ends in a twisted, crushed tangle of metal that reminds me of the wreckage of the blimp.

We pass through a small vestibule on the way to the first room on the right, which looks like it was once a lobby or a waiting room. This room is upright and intact, though the windows are oddly cracked, as if the destruction of the back half knocked the whole frame off-kilter. There are still several chairs, though any cushions they once had are long gone. And there’s a three-legged, scarred coffee table in the middle of the room, propped up in one corner by a thick branch that’s at least an inch too tall for its job.

The walls are sheets of metal, dented and scratched in several places, and the floor is concrete, scarred with divots, as if someone’s been pounding on it with… Rebar. There’s a steel bar about the length of my forearm in one corner. I saw several like it on our way here, exposed by crumbling foundations of buildings that are no longer there.

Somehow, Varian and his men have managed to cut or break a piece off. They have the first weapon I’ve seen on Devil’s eye, other than my bottle of vodka and Sylvie’s knife. And Barrett’s fists.

They’re probably going to beat me to death with it.

Filip and Evan drop Barrett in the middle of the room, and when Varian lets go of my arm, I sink onto the floor next to him. I brush hair back from his forehead, and my fingers skim the gruesome dent in his skull. The wound that took his voice. There’s a fresh lump next to it, and I’m terrified that the beating they gave him did more damage than just rendering him unconscious.

How much more damage can he take?

“It’s a metal plate. Dented, now. Did he tell you about that?” Varian asks as he sinks onto a chair a few feet away. Then he chuckles. “No, I guess he couldn’t, could he?”

“It’s from a war wound,” I tell him. “I know who Barrett is, Varian.” He’s the kindest, strongest man I’ve ever met. I hate that he’s been hurt because of me. “And I know what you made him do to Avery.”

“To Avery…?” Varian frowns in thought. Then his eyes light up with the memory. “That was a fun night! But I didn’t make him get it up for her. I didn’t make him shoot down her throat. That was all Barrett. If he didn’t want what he was getting, he wouldn’t have been hard.”

That’s not true. Physical stimulation is independent of consent. I know that for a fact, after my nights with Gerald and Phoebe. But I also know better than to argue with Varian.

“There’s probably a lot you don’t know about Barrett. For instance, the fact that he used you as bait, just this morning.”

“You’re lying.” He has to be.

“Sugar, you should be careful what you accuse me of.” Varian stands and stalks toward me, and I scoot away from him until I see the warning in his eyes. It’ll be worse if I run. He pulls me up by my hair, then wraps one hand around my throat. “Your new lover is a cold-blooded hitman who would do anything to hit the target he missed. Which is why he showed up on my doorstep this morning with a holo-vid of your hot little naked ass and directions to that shelter.”

Oh my god.

“You’re bait, Mallory,” Varian says. But he’s wrong. If Barrett were using me, he’d have dangled me in front of Varian, rather than that vid. He left me at the Sorority to protect me. Because he cares about me.

“What other use would Barrett have for a burned-out little slut like you?” he continues.

“I can think of a use for her.” On the edge of my vision, Evan adjusts his erection.

“Yeah, we’re all going to take a turn or two. No need to be gentle. Mallory’s used to rough and rowdy. But we’re going to wait until Barrett’s awake to enjoy the show.”

“But until then…” Filip stalks toward me, and Varian shoves me at him. “I say we get this party started.” He runs his hands down from my waist over my backside, and I grit my teeth. “Barrett won’t care if he misses the beginning.”

“Holy shit, look at this.”

Filip turns, and over his shoulder, I see Evan sitting in a chair against the wall with my satchel open on the floor between his feet. He’s holding the bottle of vodka. Barrett and I haven’t opened it since he used it to kill Carson. Well, to almost kill him. There’s still a smear of blood around the base of the bottle.

Varian snatches the bottle and uncaps it, then swigs from it. “It’s real. That’s the first real alcohol I’ve had in years! What else is she hiding in there?” He hands Evan the bottle and then he dumps my bag out on the floor.

I don’t care what they take. The clothes won’t fit them, they have no use for Phoebe’s makeup, and the food is a small loss compared to what they’re going to take from me next.

“What the hell is this?” Varian’s fourth man—I think I heard him called Nick—picks up a familiar metal cylinder, and my heart drops into my stomach.

Varian takes the cylinder and reads from the side of it. “Holy shit. Nympho.” He looks up at me with a hungry grin, and my stomach begins to churn again. I stuffed the pneumatic injector back into my bag because Audra and Maci didn’t want it floating around the Sorority. “Looks like there’s one shot left, and the dosage is enough to fuel an orgy.” He turns to me with a sadistic grin. “Now it’s a party.”

“No.” I try to back away as Varian crosses the room toward me, but Evan catches me and holds me with my back against his chest, gripping my arms with fists of steel. “No! Varian please! You’re going to get whatever you want from me anyway. You don’t need that.”

“She’s gotten sassy,” Filip notes, arms crossed over his chest.

“That’ll end when we give her something better to do with her mouth. Hold her still,” Varian orders, and Evan’s grip on me tightens.

“No!” When Varian reaches for me, I throw myself back against Evan and kick Varian in the chest with both legs. He stumbles backward and lands on his ass. The injector hits the floor and slides several feet.

“Bitch, you better hope that isn’t broken.” Varian pushes himself upright and retrieves the injector. His relief tells me it’s intact. The cold anger flashing in his eyes tells me that if we were still on Kallisto, I’d be ending the evening in the hospital.

Here, I’ll probably end it in a hole in the ground.

“Get a better grip on her,” he orders, and Evan wraps one huge arm around my entire torso, pinning my arms to my side. His free hand turns my face toward his chest, my right cheek pressed against his grimy shirt.

“Please. Please, Varian,” I beg as he steps so close that his chest brushes mine. “Please don’t do this.” As bad as it was with Phoebe and Gerald, it’ll be worst with Varian and his men.

“Oh, come on.” His lips brush my ear, and I shudder with disgust. I can’t believe it was once my mission in life to make him happy. To keep him happy. “You know this’ll make it more fun for you. What’s the problem?”

The problem is that I don’t want to enjoy what they do to me. I don’t want to have to beg them for release.

And I can’t stand the thought of Barrett seeing that.

Varian slides his hand down my stomach and grabs my crotch, over my exercise pants. He squeezes, forcing his fingers into me, through the material. “This is mine,” he whispers. “I say who gets to use it. Tonight, I’m going to remind you of that over and over.” He presses the injector against my neck and punches the button on the end. I sob as I feel the sting and hear the soft hiss. “Then, tomorrow, I’m going to kill you. And your new lover’s going to watch the whole…damn…thing.”