Page 100 of Too Many Beds
“No!” I screech and shove myself free. It’s Peter’s turn to stumble now. He falls backward over the low table, knocking PKTs and journals flying. I make a run for the door. He grabs my ankle. I fall on my face, cold cement slapping my cheek as air hisses from my lungs. He’s on top of me now, grabbing my limbs, trying to roll me onto my back despite my flailing protests.
The punch hits me right on the jaw and my lip splits. Blood fills my mouth. Peter lowers his face to mine and kisses me, tongue curling to lap at the wound. His body covers mine socompletely, I can’t move—I can’t do anything but stare wide-eyed into his scarred face.
“Mmm, that’s better,” he says, smacking his lips as if savouring the last drop of a particularly tasty Pod. “I always like it when they struggle. What do you say, little lamb? Gonna put on a show for me?”
I squeeze my eyes shut, tense every muscle in my body, and hope against all hell that I buy Tarrant enough time to make it worth it.
Istagger back to D Block, arm curled around ribs I’m sure Peter must’ve cracked. Everything hurts—my jaw, my chest, my arse. Blood trickles from my nose and lip and I can already feel it starting to swell, tight and hot.
Tight and hot, I scoff.That’s what he said about me.
Tarrant’s sitting on the couch when I return to the common room, head bowed low in hushed conversation with Kon. The other man notices me first, a bemused grin splitting his lips.
“Oh shit,” he says and my head is so fucked it almost sounds … impressed?
“Eden.” Tarrant pales. I must look worse than I feel, if that’s even possible. “Get out,” he barks at Kon and rises to meet me. I melt into his embrace. I think I start to cry.
Everything passes in a blur. I end up in Tarrant’s cell, on his bed, back against the wall as he blots blood from the cuts on my face. He’s gentle and sweet, but I don’t look him in the eye—I can’t. I just sit there, staring past him at the cold white wall of his cell. When he finishes cleaning my face, he eases himself onto the bed beside me, arm curling around my shoulders to pull me close. Lips press against the top of my head in a long, tender kiss.
“You did great, baby,” he says softly, resting his cheek against my temple. “So brave. I’m proud of you.”
“Did you get what you needed from Keven?” My voice cracks.
“No, I didn’t need to. Grey Peter was the one bringing in the gear. Now, thanks to your … persuasive actions … he’ll be working for me, using my network. Keven is cut off. I retain sole control over the supply of phets and nobody had to get hurt.”
I jerk violently away from his touch. “Igot hurt!” I spit, hot tears filling my eyes. “Doesn’t that matter to you?”
“Shh, baby, of course it does.” Tarrant strokes my cheek and turns my face back towards him. “That wasn’t supposed to happen—itwon’thappen again.”
Again. The word sticks in my throat.
“Look, you wanted to be useful, didn’t you?” he asks, fingers twirling my hair. “This is the best way. Once you have power in here, you have to keep it. And I abhor violence, you know that. I gain loyalty through favours, not fear. Always have.”
Free samples—that’d always been Tarrant’s prime marketing move. Share a taste of his finest product and the buyers will always come back. I used to think it was brilliant.
“If I beat up everyone who challenges me, sooner or later, it’ll earn me a stint in the Plunge,” he continues, eyes soft and earnest. “While I’m in there, someone will come for my kennel. It’s what happened to the last top dog and you don’t want that to happen to me, do you? Because if I’m in there, who’s out here with you?” He strokes my cheek. “This is the best way to keep us strong—to keep us safe. You understand that, right?”
I swallow, gaze still distant. Heisright, I know that. But it still hurts. It still feels like betrayal.
“I-I …” There’s a tremor in my voice, but I turn to look at him, taking strength from the conviction I see in his dark eyes. “I understand. This is the best way I can help you. I love you, Tarrant.”
He rewards me with a kiss so deep and sensual, it seizes my breath. Our foreheads remain joined long after our lips part, Tarrant’s hand curled around the back of my neck.
“I know, baby. I know.”
Twenty-seven days. Twenty-seven beds.
I’ve been fucked and fondled by so many men I no longer feel anything. Not when Tarrant takes me to the showers after and tenderly scrubs my body clean. Not when he makes love to me in our bed, or wraps me in his arms for sleep. It’s all just business now.
Since coming to ourunderstanding, Tarrant’s been actively recruiting, trying to grow his pack to have presence in every block. I’ve been sent as a peace offering—a bargaining chip—to every cohort not officially aligned with Tarrant, welcoming them into his crew by welcoming them into my body. Drugs were on offer too—the main course, actually; I was just the appetiser.
We’ve had no luck with A Block, nor with H. Most of them hadn’t been phet users on the outside so that makes them harder to sway—harder to please. Doesn’t stop Tarrant from trying, though.
“Just have to try a different tactic,” he says.
I suspect that’ll have something to do with me.
“Big news, boss,” Kon announces, staggering into the rec space. His limp is more pronounced today; maybe he’s been enjoying too many alcohol tabs in his water ration. “Heron Kim’s being released from the Plunge—this afternoon.”