“Duly noted, asshole.”
He doesn’t even look at me as he unlocks the gate. The heavy metalclackof the lock sounding so fucking ominous it’s not true. “Stay by my side. Do not look at anyone. Seriously, Aurora—eyes on the floor.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
In the main Digger corridor, pipes hum and rattle overhead, some leaking a slow, rhythmicdrip-drip-dripof lime-scaled water onto the concrete.
A tall, skinny guy is leaning against the wall, watching me with eyes that are full of awful promises.
Should have kept my gaze on the floor.
“Mason,” Taliesin says, his voice dropping into a dangerous tone. “Get to work.”
“Yes, Boss.” Mason doesn’t move fast, but he moves.
The further we walk, the hotter it gets. It’s like the building is trying to bake us alive. Everywhere I look, there are guys hauling crates, cleaning vents, or dragging trash. I know the age range here is sixteen to twenty-one, but most of them look like they’velived three lifetimes already. I guess that’s what a hard life and no money does to one.
Nobody says a word. No catcalls, no comments. The silence is heavy and suffocating, and honestly? It’s almost worse than the yelling. It feels like they’re all just… waiting.
Finally, we turn the corner into a large, steam-filled room. There are no curtains, no stalls and a few wet, ragged towels dumped in the corner. Taliesin nods to them. “Take one, then five minutes.”
He positions himself by the door, hand hovering over a broken toothbrush tucked into his waistband like it’s a weapon.
On one side, a couple of girls stand together, washing their bodies and looking around with wary eyes. A few feet away, a naked man is watching them, shamelessly jerking off like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
I look back at Taliesin, desperate for him to… I don’t know, do something. But his eyes are fixed somewhere on the ceiling, his jaw set in a hard, unforgiving line.
What the fuck is this place?
I try to catch the girls’ eyes, giving them a small, shaky smile—a "we’re in this together" look. They both just scowl at me.
“Fuck off, Digger trash,” one of them spits.
Right. The gray jumpsuit. I’m not Elite anymore. I’m just a girl who lives in the sewers.
On the far side of the shower block, two more men are minding their own business. I head for the space beyond them, giving a wide berth to the wanker who’s still… doing his thing.
My skin feels like it’s crawling with more than just dirt.
The first guy turns as I pass. “Look what we’ve got here. The Bossman’s pet Barbie Elite.”
Fuck my life.
Trying to ignore him, I wrap the thin, scratchy towel around me and struggle to strip the gray coveralls off underneath it. It’s an awkward, humiliating dance. This is awful. I hate every second. Idon’t let go of the towel as the lukewarm water starts to rinse the sweat and the blood from my body.
The water on my face hides the fact I’m silently crying.
Then, I sense a presence. A shadow blocking the light. Someone is standing right behind me.
I spin around to find one of the men from the Digger bleachers standing inches away, his body slick with water and eyes simmering with resentment.
“Just letting you know, Princess,” he whispers, crowding into my space until my back hits the cold, wet tile. “He can’t watch you every second. And some of us think the ‘no-rape’ rule shouldn’t apply to a monster who bites off dicks for fun. We’re the ones pulling double shifts in the furnace to pay for your stunt.”
He yanks at my towel, his fingers grazing my hip.
I don’t think. I don’t breathe. I just react. I drive my knee up with every ounce of terror-fueled strength I have left. It only catches him in the thigh but it’s enough to make him stumble back with a grunt.
"Go fuck yourself, asshole," I spit at him. "And newsflash, biting off your tiny penis will be the least of your worries if you try anything with me.”
