“Because we’re surviving,” he answered for Aydin. “When you can’t run to the supermarket or get takeout from a restaurant, you have to make sure people don’t overeat.”

“Or maybe controlling basic necessities helps you control the people,” I retorted, shifting my gaze from Taylor to Aydin.

It was a basic tactic common amongst dictators. When people spent their days fighting for food, shelter, and safety, they didn’t have the time or energy to fight for anything else. Keep them poor, hungry, and dumb.

“In any case,” I said, looking him up and down, “you don’t seem to be underfed.”

Unlike Will, who gave his ration to Micah, and how often was he doing that anyway?

But Aydin simply smiled. “Stay on my good side, and you won’t be, either.”

I’d rather eat razors.

He walked out of the pool. Taylor tossed him a towel, and I watched him dry off his face as he stood there naked, because he could.

“You want to walk out of here with a bag of food and water, right?” he guessed. “Maybe a sweater?”

Yes.

“Tell you what, then…” he said. “We earn what we eat here. You can fight for it. If you win, you can leave. Or try to,” he added. “But if you lose, I’ll show you to your own room with a private bath and some clean clothes until the restock team arrives in twenty-nine days.”

He wrapped the towel around his waist and approached me.

“Or, if you prefer, we can come up with another arrangement.” His eyes drifted down my body. “Women have their uses, after all.”

Taylor laughed under his breath to my left, and I stared at Aydin, trying to keep my nerves in check, even though my insides were bouncing off the walls.

Fight for it? Jesus, he was so nervous about how the size of his cock measured up against everyone else here that he made them fight him—or beg—for whatever it was they wanted or needed.

Did he expect me to have a chance?

“Ready to give up?” he asked, a smile ghosting his lips.

But I stood there, thinking about my options. I could hunker down, earn his trust, hoard supplies when no one was watching, and then make my escape some night when they’d lowered their guard.

That would be smart.

But I also had no idea I wouldn’t be put through hell in this house if I stayed, either. I couldn’t risk it.

“All I have to do is win?” I pressed.

Will lurched forward before he could respond, his whole body tight and flexed.

“One more step,” Aydin growled over his shoulder to Will, “and the choice is no longer hers. We can explore a whole slew of other arrangements to help her earn her freedom.”

Will halted, breathing hard, and the first glimpse of worry in his eyes I’d seen since I got here darted between Aydin and me.

“Isn’t that right, Micah?” Aydin prodded. “And Rory?”

Both boys stood off to the side, bleeding, sweaty, and defeated. “Right,” they murmured with their eyes downcast.

Taylor stepped forward, throwing off the towel around his neck and circling me in his black sweatpants.

I took in his wide chest, thick arms, and the ridges of his stomach, flexing as he stepped around me.

I spun around slowly, following him.

All I needed was one good hit. The jaw was the knock-out button. If I hit his jaw, he’d go down like a dead deer.

“If you’re lying,” I said, turning my gaze to Aydin, “they’ll know your word means nothing.”

He nodded once. “You win, you walk.” And then he waved his hand, signaling us to start. “Taylor?”

“No, me.” Will pulled up next to Aydin. “Let her fight me.”

“But then how can you watch?” he retorted.

He didn’t really want Will to answer the question. He knew—love me or hate me—Will would go easy on me, and I was starting to get the feeling that Aydin wanted this to hurt Will, too.

Hands slammed into my chest, and I flew back, the wind knocked out of me as I landed on my ass.

Shit.

Pain shot through my tailbone, and I sucked in a breath, déjà vu washing over me.

“Instead of winning, maybe you should worry about just staying on your feet,” Taylor teased, followed with a laugh.

It sounded like Martin, though, the dark sound burrowing through my stomach like a screw.

I pushed myself to my feet, feeling Will off to the side, the energy in his legs ready to move at any second.

But I didn’t need him.

I reared back my fist, aiming straight for Taylor’s jaw, but he caught it, squeezing my wrist with one hand and throwing the other across my face.

“Ah,” I gasped, my cheek bursting into flames.

Grabbing the back of my hair and making my scalp scream, he threw a fist into my stomach, and I collapsed to my knees before another hand flew across my face again. Blood filled my mouth, my eyes watered, and I could barely see.

No.

I clenched my teeth to keep the cry in, but then I remembered my grandmother wasn’t upstairs to hear anything.

“Enough!” I heard Will yell.

I flexed the muscles in my thighs, forcing my legs to stop shaking. Will had never seen me get hurt. He didn’t know what I could take.

And Taylor Dinescu was nothing.

Opening my eyes, I saw his groin right in front of me, and I shot out the palm of my hand, roaring and using every ounce of strength as I slammed my hand into his dick and then quickly rolled backward, out of his reach.

He howled, falling to one knee, and I threw off my glasses and charged for him while he was down. I jumped onto his back, locking my arm around his neck and squeezing as hard as I could, paying no mind to the whispers or chuckles going off around the room.

Taylor hunched over with my weight on him, but pushed himself to his feet, breathing a mile a minute and no longer at ease.

“I went easy with those hits,” he gritted out.

“And believe me when I tell you I know how to take one,” I replied.

He popped up, flying backward, and I cried out, seeing the ground rush us over my shoulder. I landed on my back with his weight crashing into me on top, and I coughed and gasped for air, my ribs aching with pain.

“You fucking bitch,” he muttered.

He rolled over, shooting off me, and I opened my eyes in time to see his foot come in for my head.

I widened my eyes and rolled away, my heart in my throat just as the toe of his foot hit me in the eye.

Fuck.

I squeezed my eyes shut, and I could feel the blood dripping over my cheek bone.

“Goddammit,” Will yelled. “Enough!”

“Is that enough, Emory?” Aydin chimed in. “You giving up?”

I didn’t have a chance to respond. Taylor straddled me, slapping me once and then again, and I barely had time to catch my breath before he planted his hand over my mouth and plugged my nose.

I inhaled, blood coating my face, but I couldn’t get any air in. My lungs constricted, my brain shut down, and all of a sudden, I was home with Martin like it was yesterday. I thrashed, flailing my hands as my body screamed for oxygen. I slapped Taylor’s chest, scratched his face, and clawed his neck, kicking and squirming under his hold.

His thighs tightened around me, and I twisted and twisted, trapped. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. Tears filled my eyes as my pulse flooded my ears.