Page 38 of Volatile Waters

Two days later, I rolled my eyes while unlocking the door Crash was banging on. I wasn’t surprised he was irate when I finally opened it. He charged me. “We are fucking starving!” I let him shove me across the hallway and into the wall so that waiting Kirill could make his move. Crash froze when he heard the door behind him slam shut and lock. Then, he spun around to see Adrian smirking, leaning against the wall—right next to Sam’s room.

Crash was already in protective mode. That tends to happen when someone inferior is looking to you for shelter. Sam was afraid her door would never open again when we refused to answer Crash’s insistence to be set free, but she also feared what lay waiting in her future.

Once the drugs from her kidnapping had worn off, the cold room seeped into her body as if she’d been soaked in a tub of ice. She was from Florida and craved heat like a coldblooded snake. I had sat in the viewing room, witnessing some important physical bonding in the middle of the night. Sam had asked for Crash to leave the floor and lay in bed with her. Crash may have been only six inches taller than her, but he managed to wrap his growing body around hers as she burrowed close, anxious for warmth. The thin, dingy green blanket we provided was inadequate, as planned for all slaves. Hungry and cold for endless hours tended to make them desperate for options. Only providing cold water for showers also made them willing to partake in ‘trades.’ And so, the process of earning their keep began. Hence, no food for two days.

Frantic, Crash scanned the hallway. “Where’s Kirill?”

Perfect timing had Sam screaming, “Get away from me,” from inside the room.

Crash was now ramming his shoulder into the door to get back in. I scoffed, “Do make up your mind, Crash. You wanted out. I’m starting to suspect you’re unstable.”

He ignored me, yanking on the locked doorknob and banging on the metal. “Kirill! Stay away from her!”

The two innocent young souls had truly bonded during their duress. Would they have done so in normal circumstances—a boy taking a girl to the movies? Fuck no, but that is not where I had them locked away. Being confined can be lonely, the unknown terrifying. So, they had talked and brought each other comfort, a connection that would prove to be hard to break.

Crash looked to Adrian. “Please. Give me a key.” Adrian pointed to behind him where I was waiting for an audience. Crash smacked the door twice, more in frustration than trying to get in, then told me, “I won’t be you.”

“She’s beautiful. What is the delay? Leash her.”

Tiredly, he rolled along the door as he turned to face me. “It’s wrong.”

“Only according to you.”

“I… I can’t hurt her like you hurt the others.”

I threw my hands into the air. “Who is asking you to mistreat her? I’m only asking you to claim her before someone else does.”

Crash jerked when Sam beat on the door behind him, crying out, “Crash! Help me!”

He spun again, his forehead to the door, telling her, “You don’t understand what they want.”

“H-He’s trying to pull down my pants!”

Crash roared to the ceiling, then to me. “Stop him!”

It was now or never. I had to push the kid over the edge of his morals. “She is free game! We have rules! Ones you are refusing to follow.”

Another scream came from Sam as the doorknob jiggled, a clear sign of her trying to escape. Then it stopped moving. I was impressed by Kirill’s ingenuity when I heard the springs on the little cot squeak, Sam begging for help. “Crash! Do whatever they want! Please!”

“Kirill!” screamed Crash. A fist opened up long enough to pull the leash and collar from his back pocket. He held it in the air above his head. “I’m claiming her right now!” He faced me with a rage that was impressive for such a young man. He screamed in Russian, “Call him off her!”

Delighted to have won this round, I nodded. “As you wish.” To the door, I shouted, “Kirill. Well done.” I head-gestured for Adrian to unlock the door.

As soon as Adrian opened the door, a disheveled and horrified Sam flew through the doorway, running straight into Crash’s chest, burying her face from all surrounding witnesses.

Crash’s arms blanketed her as they panted together, backing away from us. “I’m so sorry, Sam.”

“H-He almost—”

Crash wrapped his arms tighter, her long blonde hair getting tangled around them. “He won’t again.” When his back hit the wall behind him, the three of us men slowly closed in, being sure his promise—his claim—was solidified. Our unified approach was intimidating. Crash’s wide eyes told me so. He may have been trained, and a natural fighter, but no fourteen-year-old had a true chance against our extensive experience and icy hearts.

Swallowing, Crash raised a palm, silently begging for us to stop. We didn’t. We only prowled forward. Kirill even added a tug at his crotch to remind Crash of his capabilities. Crash blew out a shaky breath then finally said, “Keep your eyes closed, Sam.” Her head bobbed as she nodded, refusing to let him go. When his arms released her to open the collar, she pushed into him. He laid his head to the top of hers. It was impressive how fast the simple gesture settled her tense body. In what felt like only hours, they had become emotionally intertwined.

Crash ran his hands under her hair and up her back, his eyes filling with water. Her hair moved as his hands started wrapping the collar around her neck. Sam slowly peered up at him. I don’t know what those doe eyes were asking him, but Crash whispered, “If I don’t,” he moved his stare to Kirill, “someone else will.”

I explained, “You two will be staying in my room from now on.”

As Crash’s mouth fell open, he pulled Sam to his chest again as if he suspected we were about to steal her from him. “But you only have Elites in your room.” He tightened his hold on her, Sam most willing to be protected. “I claimed her as you asked.”