Consummation

FOUR


Jack spent most of her time sleeping. Grange must have done the same thing Riddick had done and programmed the door to respond to his voice alone, because Spinelli hadn’t bothered her since the incident her first day.

When they docked, she hadn’t been prepared. Grange hadn’t said a thing about nearing their destination when he fed her earlier that day. Indeed, the only way she’d been aware of their docking at all was because of the shudder that wracked the entire ship when they reached the port and powered down.

Unwillingly, she had grown accustomed to her days of solitude in the little bunkroom. Her arrival on Uburi meant only one thing—that her entire existence would change again. When Grange came to fetch her, she was curled up in a little ball on the bunk she’d claimed as her own.

“Come on. Time to go,” he called from the doorway. Jack tried to obey him, but couldn’t. She just couldn’t will her limbs to move. Her stomach felt leaden, and her eyes were locked onto the wall she faced.

She’d been trying to keep thoughts and fears about what was going to happen to her at bay, but now that she’d arrived, images of Riddick and Spinelli assaulting her crowded her mind. She wouldn’t be so lucky now. She was about to be sold to a trader. A trader who wouldn’t see her as Jack, not even as a young woman. Just a body. A body to be sold to the highest bidder.

A tearless sob smothered in the back of her throat. Tears wouldn’t change a damn thing, wouldn’t fix anything. She was truly helpless, so much more so than with Riddick. Riddick had at least cared, as much as he was capable of caring, at any rate. She was Jack to him. He wanted her, not some mindless slave. He’d said so himself.

But now he was dead.

The knowledge still felt unreal. Riddick couldn’t die. He was Riddick. He might as well have been fucking immortal.

“Hey.” Grange snapped his fingers, as though she were a dog for him to call. “Come on. We don’t have all day.”

When Jack still didn’t move, she heard him cross the room rapidly. “I’m not kidding. Let’s move.” He hauled her out easily. Jack didn’t resist. Why was he being so cruel all of a sudden? “Cooperate. Now.”

She met his eyes briefly. Fear had rendered her nearly paralyzed. Her trembling was back.

When Grange saw her, his pale eyes softened. Jack dared not hope he was changing his mind.

No. He sat down next to her and stroked her hair, but his face had hardened again. It was cut off, indifferent. “Listen. You need to make a good impression on this trader. You’re not worth shit right now. You’ve never been trained, which makes me look really bad. Now, if you want to make everything easier on yourself, do exactly as you’re told. Don’t speak unless asked a direct question. No hesitation. I can’t talk to you like this once we’re out there. Okay? Just go with the flow, and for God’s sake, don’t act afraid. Can you do that?”

He sat there, looking at her, until she nodded. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?” he prompted.

For a moment Jack didn’t know what he was talking about. Then it dawned on her. “Oh. Yes, sir.”

“Good. Remember that. Something that simple could make or break this. Now here.” He held up a leash. It wasn’t as ornate as the one Riddick had gotten for her. This was designed purely for functionality. Jack blanched. Surely she wouldn’t be subjected to that indignity again, would she?

Apparently yes, that was to be her fate. He clipped the leash in place and gave it a light tug, just like Riddick used to do with her before. In that moment, Jack thought that she would willingly have done anything he’d wanted, if only the past week had never happened.

Despite her inner turmoil, she followed Grange sedately. In truth, she felt sedated. It was the only way to explain the inexplicable calm that now embraced her consciousness. This level of helplessness was almost beyond fear.

Of course, once she stepped out into the bright daylight, she panicked.

“I can’t do this. This can’t be happening. Riddick, damn it, don’t be dead. This can’t be real, oh, fuck!” she whimpered aloud, backing up and fighting the leash as her voice grew in tandem with the boiling onslaught of her fear. Almost without thinking about what she was doing, her hands found the clasp and she fumbled with it.

Promptly she felt a sound blow to the side of the head from Spinelli. Her arms flew up to protect herself, but the blow was soon followed with a harsh slap across the face. “Bitch!” he snarled with unexpected venom.

Her mind and nerves reeling from this abuse, she was taken by surprise when the slack on the leash tightened all the way. Grange was, quite literally, reeling her in. “What the fuck did I tell you?” he demanded, holding the leash right near the collar itself, so that she had no slack with which to move at all and his face was inches from his own. Before she had a chance to respond, he pulled her hair so hard that it brought tears of pain to her eyes.

“Unless you want to go to some cheap whorehouse or a mine, straighten the fuck up, you understand? You’re damn lucky that we’re going to see Bentley right now, otherwise I swear to God I’d beat you black and blue. You got me?” He shook her by the hair for emphasis, and tears streamed down her face.

“Yes, yes sir! I understand! Please, you’re hurting me….”

“Good. Maybe you’ll listen a little better. I was Mr. Nice Guy on the ship, but here they’re watching our every move, both yours and mine. So fucking behave yourself.”

The steel in his voice made her clamp her mouth closed around her next plea. Instead she nodded vigorously and wiped away her tears.

Grange resumed his walk, tugging the leash brutally when she lagged behind. Within moments they were sitting in the backseat of a cab. The entire experience reminded her of her last cab ride, the one Riddick had taken her on to get from her house to his ship.

Given the chance, she would have done anything to be there with him instead of here with this slaver.

As the cab drove through town, Jack looked out the window and was shocked at what she saw. Men, women, and even children were collared. Some were with free citizens, some were on leashes, and some appeared to be entirely alone. What were they doing by themselves? Why didn’t they run?

The cab pulled in front of a regular business office. “Wait here,” Grange said to the driver, reaching through the front seats to slip a generous sum into the tip container on the dashboard.

“How long?” the cabbie asked, eying the wad of UD bills.

“Oh, twenty, thirty minutes, tops.”

The driver took another look at the money and countered, “Fifteen.”

Grange sighed and slid in another bill. “Twenty. Okay?”

The cabbie picked up the bill, looked at it, and nodded. “Twenty,” he agreed, already settling back with his hat tipped over his eyes.

“Where are we—”

“Shut up,” Grange snapped, yanking on Jack’s leash. “Spinelli, you stay here.”

“Why?” Spinelli didn’t sound pleased at this at all. She was unable to turn her head to look at him because of the lack of slack on the leash, but Jack suppressed an expression of bitter satisfaction. She hated that man. Anything that made him unhappy was good in her book.

“Because I said so. I’ve got to register her, and the faster we go, the better. Besides, this way you can keep an eye on the driver and make sure he doesn’t cut out early.”

Spinelli must have agreed to this, because there were no more words between the two of them.

“Eyes to the floor once we get inside. Don’t say a word, you got me?”

Jack nodded quickly as she was hustled inside the cold building. Goosebumps prickled on her skin, but she resisted the urge to rub her arms to keep warm. Careful to keep her eyes glued to the floor, she perked her ears up and tried to get an idea of what was going on around her.