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“Is there something funny about starvation?” he spat. The man shook his head no as Matthews continued to squeeze his airway shut. “You’ll be the last to eat. Every day. And if we run out, you can eat your words.” He freed the man and turned on his heel to leave. Dean nodded to Matthews in understanding that the order was his to execute, and then Dean headed in my direction.
“Hi darling,” he drawled, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. He wanted to console me or butter me up. I assumed we would avoid talking about what had happened the day before, which was fine by me. I wanted more than anything to forget. “You’re with me for the next few hours. Lucky me.”
I gave him a weak smile in response. Part of me knew this was the beginning of whatever plan Dean had for himself and us, and part of me still felt a little terrible for fucking Sam earlier and loving it.
He led me by my elbow to a boarded room in the center of the unit. I noticed drones lined the roof as we waited for the security door to read his palm and eyes.
“This is the control room,” he explained. “As leadership, we’ll grant you access. After we finish here, I’ll get someone to do your retina scans and handprints.” He dropped a large binder in the center of a small table as I took my seat. The room was simple and well guarded, stocked with a few file cabinets and tables. Several screens covered one wall and displayed images of empty greenhouses. “And this is your AGP, Agriculture and Growth Plan. This keeps us all alive. We’re starting with radishes, carrots, and squash.”
Dean went on for over an hour about the overall projections and my responsibilities. I knew how to farm, so he skimmed most of everything. The vegetables chosen were fast growers. A child could be successful. “What about the chemistry piece?” I asked.
“Not today,” he said and reached across the table for my hand. “This week we just need to get it all planted. Your team starts with your direction tomorrow. Some things will be ready in thirty days, God willing.”
“What about science willing? Is chemistry a way to grow things faster?”
“Not today,” Dean hissed. He gripped my hand so hard it almost hurt. I tensed my shoulders and scooted away from him. He yanked me back. “What’s going on, Row?”
He was pulling me closer to him. The chair squeaked along the cement floor as it moved. His jaw tightened, and he cocked his head to the side. I knew struggling would only entice him, so I conceded and lifted myself to move closer.
“Nothing is going on. I want to do a good job is all. We can talk about chemistry tomorrow.”
Dean narrowed his gaze and loosened his grip on my hand. His eyes moved down my body and back up to my lips. “Okay, Row, whatever you say. How’s married life?”
It took everything in me not to roll my eyes. He would see that as disrespectful, and I knew when I was being baited for a fight. “It’s cramped, so I appreciate getting his clean work clothes today.”
“Hopefully, he’ll be able to walk and shower soon. I’m sure it’s been difficult for you.”
“I’m grateful, Dean. You won’t hear me complaining, but it’s far from a honeymoon.”
Dean seemed pleased with my response. He gave me a wide grin and reached for the radio on his belt. “Intake complete. Please bring in the appointment for Mrs. Lawson.”
“So, I guess we’re almost done here? Do I get scanned now?” I asked. He placed my palm on his thigh and leaned forward. He smelled like he always had of coffee and mint, even now. His fingers pushed up and between my legs, teasing me to notice.
“Do you remember the cruise we took all those years ago?” he responded. “Maybe it’s the water or us together again, I just keep thinking about it.”
“This ship is a little different. Fewer margaritas and more, you know, overall hopelessness.”
“I can be happy with you here.” His other hand lifted to my cheek, rubbing his thumb along my bottom lip. “Remember our first night on that trip? I made you very happy.”
I hated to feel it, but the thoughts came rushing back, and the warmth in my core grew. There had been a time once when I craved Dean like a drug. He was arrogant, but he had a right to be. He never left me unsatisfied, and reminiscing about better times had me holding my breath. His hand on my jaw became stronger, and he drew my face to his.
“You did, it’s true,” I admitted. “But we agreed that part of our lives is over.”
“I think life is different now,” he pointed out. “You know why I need you here, Row? Why I really need you?”
His mouth was on mine, pushing his tongue between my lips. He gripped my throat, holding me in place, and he moved my hand to his cock. It twitched and pulsed from my touch.
He was aggressive, always was, and I’d probably leave the room with a few bruises. Dean had regularly blessed me with love marks when we were together. I loved the feel of them on my body. His force was never unwanted, and a bite mark or hand slap didn’t bother me.
But today, when he gripped the back of my hair, yanking my mouth open further, I was... confused. I kissed him back in my shock and possibly my fear. I still needed Dean to keep me here, to keep us here.
What I felt for Sam was real, but his life, all our lives, were in Dean’s hands. The same hands that moved over my body as if he owned me, and I yielded to his will, trapped by my circumstances.
The door opened, but Dean refused to stop. He was the boss of all things and he would finish when he wanted. Knowing someone was watching, I grew uncomfortable. I pulled back, making his grip on my hair tighter, and I mindlessly moaned in response.
Dean’s smile was criminal as he yanked us apart to look at me. “You like that, baby,” he boasted. Someone at the door gave an awkward cough, and he released me.
When I turned to see Sam, my heart stopped beating.
No tears fell. I looked at him with dead eyes, my heart sinking in my chest. I bore my gaze through him like he was nothing. Dean will not win.
Sam glared at the wall behind us as he gripped the sides of his wheelchair, a spoke breaking free with his bare hands.
