She shivers when I kiss her shoulder, remorse gnawing at me. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, but she won’t look at me.
They’re still cheering, throwing things. A bottle crashes near my head and Sasha flinches.
The guards come in to tear me off her but I’m already back in my right mind and haunted by the blood smeared between her thighs. My cock is still wet with it, softening against my thigh, a filthy reminder that my body chose this even when I didn’t.
“Sasha!” I yell, fighting the five guards on me as one lifts her limpbody.
Fuck, I’ve split her lip too.
Roaring, I throw one of the guards off my back and struggle to push forward before a cattle prod digs into my ribs. My muscles seize, body convulsing as I watch Sasha carried away.
This is what I deserve.
But her empty eyes meet mine and she mouths the words, “Thank you,” before the darkness swallows me.
Six months later
The Pit smells like piss and iron.
Same as it always does.
But tonight, I’m not in it. I’m on guard duty, perched on the edge of the upper walkway with a dull rifle in my lap, eyes scanning a horizon I’ll never reach.
I’d almost rather be in the Pit tonight.Almost. But there’s a dark part of me that loves to watch as well.
Heavy footsteps sound behind me. I turn to see Crane, one of the lieutenants. A sadist. One of the worst. Always smiling like this is all a big fucking joke. As if other’s suffering is his version of a good time.
He spits before he speaks. “You hear about Sasha?”
My spine stiffens. “No.”
“Didn’t make it.” He grins like a wolf.
My stomach drops. “What do you mean she didn’t…”
“Pregnancy fucked her up. Fever, infection, whole mess. Bitch started convulsing this morning. Screaming…for you, apparently.” His tone pretends at sympathy, but that sick gleam in his eyes tells the truth.
The words hit like a crowbar to the gut. I stare straight ahead, jaw clamped tight, not trusting my face.
“She die?” I force out.
“Oh yeah,” he laughs like it’s the punchline. “Baby too.Should’ve just opened her wrists as soon as she missed her bleed.”
The rifle creaks in my lap as my grip tightens on it. The urge to shove the barrel through his teeth nearly overtakes me.
Crane claps me on the back like we’re mates. “Don’t pout, Zane. She was gonna die anyway.” He laughs his way down the catwalk, boots echoing until they fade.
I sit there for a long time. Until purple bleeds out of the sky and the Pit lights hum to life beneath me.
She screamed for me.
And I wasn’t there.
She gave me something I didn’t know I needed in that Pit—something I didn’t deserve. Dignity. Solidarity. A shred of humanity.
It’s my fault. I killed her. My stupid idea. But she was left to deal with the consequence on her own. Used and discarded like all the others.
But this time, numbness doesn’t come. This time, it actually hurts.
