We’d be at the lodge site right now, doing what we usually did.

  Travis would still be locked up in a pen awaiting whatever fate Samael chose for him. He’d been brought along because we needed whatever information he had. The man had tried to help us. That was worth some small acknowledgement.

  Aside from that, his death had no impact on my emotional wellbeing. I cared more for the proselytes who’d done nothing but their jobs.

  I racked my brain, trying to come up with a realistic solution to get us out of this. Our bags had been taken away from us, so the gear was gone. My rainbow gambit was gone as well—it had been strapped around my waist before they knocked me out.

  Takara and I bounced ideas off one another and took suggestions from Cherry and Hannah.

  When there was no longer any light coming through the cracks of the boarded-up window, and a symphony of crickets had started, I realized the day was gone.

  We’d gotten nowhere.

  Unable to stand any longer, I sat on the opposite side of the stall.

  With my back to a grime-coated wall, I dozed without intending to.

  A clinking sound had me waking back up. It took my sluggish brain a second to place what I was hearing.

  Chains.

  “What are you doing?” Takara’s tired voice lured me from my spot on the floor.

  Ignoring the soreness in my lower half, I stood and walked to the front of the stall. The lighting in here was even worse now that it was dark outside, but I could make out one of the men from earlier. Tyson, I think. He was undoing the padlock on the outside of Hannah’s stall. She said something I couldn’t understand, following it with a soft plea.

  “Hey!” I shook my stall’s door, trying to get his attention.

  He paid us nor Hannah’s objections any mind. She was removed from the stall with little difficulty.

  Her hands wrapped around the bars in an attempt not to be carried off. All it took was a rough tug to remove her grip.

  “Hold still,” Tyson grumbled, struggling with her in the barn’s aisleway.

  His words had no effect whatsoever. She twisted and shoved at him, trying to get away. It only made her predicament worse. Tyson cursed and swung his fist, catching the side of her face with a solid hit. She instantly dropped to the ground, sobbing in distress.

  “I told you to stop.”

  He yanked her back up by the arm and walked off, leaving her the option to follow obediently or be dragged.

  “Where are you taking her?” Cherry called after him.

  Still without giving a response, he exited the barn with Hannah. The slamming of the door overshadowed the last of her cries we were able to hear.

  “We’ve got to find Poet and get the hell out of here,” Takara monotoned.

  I pulled my gaze away from the lines of light beginning to creep back in and took a quiet breath to keep myself calm. I knew we needed to get out of here; that was a redundant statement.

  Snapping at her wouldn’t help us any, though. Given where she came from, she was handling this exceptionally well. I wasn’t a mind reader, so I couldn’t tell what was going through her head, but I knew this had to bring back memories of the time she was at A.R.C.

  Before Mal and Amo had infiltrated them, her old faction had been running a strict regimen that kept their women severely oppressed, branding and bartering them. Those who didn’t meet whatever ridiculous standards they had were killed.

  A lot like…livestock.

  “We’ll find a way out, Kara. We just got away from one of the most powerful factions in the Badlands. This should be nothing.”

  “Did we?”

  I stretched my arms out on either side. “Do you see Mal anywhere?”

  “That isn’t what I meant. I’m asking—” She cut herself off and glanced in the general direction of Cherry, cautious of what was being said in front of a stranger.

  I expected this girl to be somewhat emotional over her friend being punched in the face and hauled off, but nope. She’d been eerily silent since Hannah was dragged away.

  Come to think of it, neither of these women had uttered a word about the guy who’d been shot in the back. I was sure Hannah was overly hysterical due to a personality flaw, not because whoever that man was in Phobos had been killed. So Cherry was either intently listening to everything we were saying, or she’d gone into shock or something.

  “Hey, are you all right over there?” I asked.

  “As okay as I can be.”

  “I’m sorry about your friends,” Takara said softly.

  “They weren’t really my friends. We just met six days ago.”

  Well, now I had questions. Why had she been travelling with two strangers, and how did they end up in Phobos of all places?

  The barn door suddenly slid open, causing sunlight to blast into the building’s poorly lit interior.

  I squinted, watching the silhouette of someone approach.

  “Good morning, girls,” Knox greeted us cheerfully. “Ma’s got your breakfast nearly ready to go. I need to borrow her for a few.”

  The ‘her’ he was referring to was yours truly. He lacked the bandana he’d had on the day before, but the ridiculous goggles were back in place. And, of course, he had his gun cradled in the crook of his arm.

  I wondered where he was going to take me. Hannah had yet to come back from wherever Tyson had dragged her off to. Something told me she wouldn’t be.

  An apprehensive energy zinged down my spine, but I kept my mouth shut and held my composure. When he grabbed hold of the padlock to let me out, I could tell Takara was going to say something in my defense. I shook my head to deter her.

  “I’ll be back for you after tonight.” Knox spoke to her directly.

  He pulled open the stall door and leveled a stare at my partially exposed chest, motioning for me to come forward.

  “You even think of trying something and I’ll blow a hole in ya.”

  “Noted,” I quipped dryly.

  When I was within reaching distance, he grabbed hold of my arm and led me out of the barn. We stepped out into blazing heat, and I got my first real look at where we were. An old show arena. To the far right was a small house that appeared to be in better shape than the barn.

  Roboys’ Roadhouse was painted on a handmade sign near the pick-up and blue car we’d been brought here in. There didn’t seem to be any type of civilization close by.

  Knox continued to lead me to where voices were coming from like I was a dog.

  We walked alongside another building, this one made from sheet metal. Arrows were hung on the side of it, guiding us along.

  “Get yourself ready.”

  I stared at the side of his head. “Ready for what?”

  We rounded a corner, and the smell that had been bothering the hell out of me in the barn became eye-wateringly potent. And no wonder.

  “We got a bit behind on clean-up,” Knox explained.

  “You don’t say?” I mumbled.

  At least a dozen bodies were stacked on top of one another inside a smaller paddock. Some were half burnt. I should’ve known this was what I was smelling. Decomposition. Burning flesh.

  This odor was always easier to recognize than to describe. You never really forgot it once you breathed it in a few times.

  Imagine beef in a frying pan with a side of pig fat. Then, because these people hadn’t been gutted, burnt liver mixed with a nice musky perfume curated from spinal fluid.

  Basically, the scent was both nauseating and sweet. Sometimes, like now, it was so thick and putrid that there was a richness to it you could almost taste.

  These idiots had put the corpses on a large grill-like rack, which wasn’t doing them any favors. As the bodies gradually melted, bits and pieces were getting stuck in the grates. Thankfully, I didn’t see anyone that resembled Poet amongst them.

  I looked away from the display to the arena coming up on my left.

  They hadn’t cleaned this, either.

  The sun shined down, casting a haze over bloodied sawdust, making it that much more vivid.

  The surrounding bleachers were empty of all but four people who paid us no attention.

  An additional four men were inside the arena. Jacob and Tyson. A man I didn’t recognize. And Poet. Both were facing our general direction, their backs to the other two.

  “What is this?” I questioned.

  “It’s going to determine what I do with you.”

  “Like Hannah?”

  “Who?”

  “The blonde your friend took out of the barn in the middle of the night.”

  “That’s my brother.”

  “Okay?” I didn’t care what the relation was. I was fishing for some clarity.

  She wasn’t anywhere to be seen, so what had they done with her?

  “She’s been put to good use,” he jeered, stroking my arm with his thumb.

  I didn’t need any further details.

  He led me through a solid red gate, and we walked down a slight slope that took us deeper into the arena. I couldn’t think of any reason why I’d be brought here.

  Tyson began saying something to the guy he was standing behind; at the same time, Jacob brought a massive blade up to rest against Poet’s throat.

  “What’s going on?” I demanded.

  “You see that man by your friend?” Knox asked quietly.

  “Yes…”

  “I need you to kill em.”

  I couldn’t have heard that correctly. “Why would I kill him?”

  Knox stopped walking. His grip on my arm tightened. “I can tell you why you’re going to.” I shifted away from him as much as I could, not liking how close he suddenly was to my face. “Because if you don’t, I’m gonna sell your ass to the highest bidder. You’ll be fucked every which way to Sunday until they get tired of your pussy or make you spit out a couple kids.”

  “Anything else?”

  “That big guy with Jacob is—”

  “Poet. His name is Poet.”

  “Well, if you lose, Poet’s going to have that blade wedged in his throat.”

  He could have led with that. I looked my supposed victim over, seeing him do the same. He was sizing me up. If we were going off size alone, he had me beat, hands down. Tall and stocky, I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to take him.

  I was running off maybe twenty minutes of sleep and hadn’t had anything of substance since leaving the lodging site.

  “What happens if I win?”

  He resumed his pace. “If you win? Your friend gets to live, and you’ll be staying with me tonight.”

  That was a shitty consolation prize. I didn’t want to be anywhere near this sicko. I had to win this for Poet, though. I could never stand by and let something happen to him or Kara.

  We got within a few feet of the others and Knox relinquished the hold he had on my arm, giving me a shove in the direction of my opponent.

  “Go head now.”

  The man immediately began coming towards me without pause. I took a few steps backward and he grinned. I’m sure this seemed like it would be relatively easy from his perspective.

  I licked my lips, unsure how to make my first move.

  It’d been years since I was told to fight someone like this, and back then it had always been under the supervision of my father. He never shoved me in a freaking arena and told me to battle to the death.

  “Let’s go, Kyle,” Tyson yelled, clapping his hands.

  Like an attack dog that had just been given a command, Kyle rushed forward. There was less space between us than I’d initially thought. He swung, and his fist made impact with the side of my face. Pain exploded through my jaw.

  I stumbled, feeling blood pool in my mouth. I spat it and excess saliva onto the ground while the pieces of shit who’d orchestrated this whooped and hollered, cheering Kyle on.

  “You got this, Lils,” Poet called to me encouragingly.

  Kyle came at me again, charging like a brazen bull.

  There was no way I could take a full-on body hit from him and remain standing. I barely got out of the way in time, side-stepping before we collided.

  He’d gotten close enough that I could reach him. I grabbed handfuls of his hair and dragged his head down. My arms felt as if they would pop out of their damn sockets. I ignored the pain and slammed my knee into his face.

  This too hurt like hell. The satisfying crack was worth it, though. Kyle tore out of my grip, leaving me with two handfuls of hair. Blood ran from his slightly crooked nose down to his lips. He paid it no attention, swinging at me again.

  The air whizzed in front of my face as I dodged it. I squared up and swung back, delivering a solid blow. We circled each other like two wild animals, neither willing to go down easily.

  The sun beat down on us, zapping stamina and making this ten times more difficult. From the corner of my eye, I saw something shiny land on the ground a few feet away.

  “Dropped something,” Jacob called out flippantly.

  The slight distraction cost me. Kyle lunged again, this time taking me down to the ground with him attempting to land on top of me. Pain jolted throughout my body. My head hit the sawdust; teeth sunk into my tongue. I managed to escape being crushed beneath his weight, but he still got hold of me by the legs. His eyes flashed to the object lying in the sawdust.

  A knife.

  “Give it up, princess,” he taunted with an infuriating smirk.

  “You fucking wish,” I snapped.

  Clearly, he thought this was over.

  No way would this be where my story ended. Not Poet or Takara’s, either.

  My blood hummed in my veins as determination and anger took over. Ignoring the cheering, I leered at the dipshit behaving as if he’d already won. With a growl, I lurched forward and grabbed his head on either side. I caught the widening of his eyes as I slammed my forehead into his.

  A slew of curses flew from his mouth.

  Stars burst in my vision, but I shook them away. With a new vigor and untapped rage that had me boiling from the inside out, I fought my way to my feet.

  I immediately kicked him square in the jaw. His head snapped to the left and he stumbled sideways. Now I knew why Brody had pissed on Jim. If I had a penis, I would’ve done the same to this guy.

  He didn’t attempt coming at me again.

  With wild, enraged eyes, he went for the knife. I dove, landing on his back and bringing him back down with a grunt.

  Moving quicker than he could, I used his body as leverage and pushed myself forward, nearly sitting on his head as I went for the same blade.

  I grasped it, lost it, then managed to finally pick it up just as Kyle dislodged me. Clutching the handle tightly, I came at him, stabbing just beneath his left eye. His cry of pain spurred me on. I got him on his back and climbed on top, using the full weight of my body to keep him down. I pulled the blade out and stabbed him again, randomly. Then again and again, anywhere I could reach.

  Blood seeped between my fingers, coating my midriff. I didn’t stop until Knox was dragging me off him and Tyson pried away the knife.

  “Calm down, girl,” Knox soothed with a laugh, hauling me to my feet.

  Sweat dripped down my body, mixing with the sawdust and blood I was covered in.

  I took in Kyle’s body. His face was a mess of gaping holes. A few were on his neck and the side of his head. Crimson pooled around his unmoving form. The metallic scent was heightened by the blazing sun.

  “Let’s go get your prize,” Knox said, guiding me away from Kyle with his hold on my arm.

  Jacob began leading Poet in the opposite direction. I pulled against Knox’s grip, wanting to go to him.

  “I’ll be okay,” Poet tossed over his shoulder reassuringly.

  I didn’t believe that for a second. None of us were safe here.

  “Where are you taking him?” I heaved through a ragged breath, still trying to calm myself.

  “Don’t you worry, I was never going to kill that big fella. I have some plans for him.

  “If I were you, I’d be more concerned about yourself.”

  I ignored his advice and stared after Poet, willing him to be safe.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  After being led out of the arena, I became acutely aware of my new predicament. I was beyond filthy, and, as the adrenaline wore off, everything started to hurt.

  I was momentarily confused when Knox led me back the way we’d come but then bypassed the barn. It only took me a second after that to realize where he was taking me. I still played dumb in hopes I was wrong.

  “Where are we going?” I questioned.

  “To get your prize.”

  “What if I don’t want it?”

  “Do you think you’re in any position to negotiate?”

  Of course I wasn’t, but I would have spent weeks locked inside his barn if it meant not going inside the damned farmhouse. Without having any choice, I was led up the rickety front steps and through a torn screen door. I noted a strange smell as soon as we entered, but I couldn’t place it.

  “Ma!” Knox called.

  “Bring her back,” an elderly voice replied.

  “Move.” He nudged me with his leg, proceeding to lead me past a staircase, through a doorway that opened into a vintage kitchen, and towards what appeared to be a small bedroom.

  There was a tall mirror angled inside the room, and a bed was partially reflected in its glass. Once Knox fully opened the door, I was assaulted by dark pink floral wallpaper, shag carpet, and a wall full of porcelain dolls.

  Hideous décor aside, I didn’t know whether to focus on Hannah, who was in terrible shape tied to the bed, or the small old lady standing beside a vanity. Her gray hair was pulled back in a bun so tight that it made her brown eyes seem even sharper. They regarded me with open suspicion from behind a pair of oval framed glasses. She hobbled forward and stopped two steps away from me.

  “This is her? The one you were telling me about?”

  “Yeah. Can you get her cleaned up? I’ll take the slop out to the others.”