“You’re the same,” she says.

Not even close. I may be made of the same raw materials as the day I took her, but everything else has changed.

“Eyes on mine. I don’t care who’s down that hall. There’s only you and me.”

Pursing her lips, she presses her palms flat on the glass until the creases make a roadmap of a strange, unpopulated place.

She obeyed. She gave me a corner of order in a world of chaos. She is mine. I am hers.

My cock swells and rages, tenting the loose pants.

I knew seeing her here could break me, but I didn’t predict that it would make me whole.

Speaking softly, I put my fingertips against her flattened palm. “I will do whatever I have to do to touch you again.”

She shakes her head ever so slightly. Denial or warning? Resistance or hopelessness?

“Ain’t this cute?” Sergio’s voice echoes down the hall. “If I’d known this would turn into a porno, I woulda brought a napkin.”

Marco’s behind him, as if Sergio needs muscle to restrain Sarah or me—the guy locked behind a transparent wall.

“I was just telling my wife how to kill you.” I pull my hand away, but she doesn’t move hers.

“You taught her how to drive, but not kill a guy?” Sergio’s comfortable letting me know she drove here, but more importantly, by not commenting on what I actually said, he doesn’t reveal whether or not he can hear us when we whisper.

“I know how to kill him.” Sarah’s taken her palms off the glass, leaving handprints behind, and looks at Sergio. “Don’t think I don’t, asshole.”

“I’m terrified.” He comes closer. “For real. Paralyzed with fear, like on TV. Big eyes, close up with the dunh-dunh-duh.” He slides his hands into his pockets and rocks on the balls of his feet. “And the language… whoo, boy. They’re going to have to send you to the nunnery, sweetmeat. They’ll feed you soap three meals a day.”

He’d be funny if he wasn’t so humorless.

“Only my husband has the right to send me anywhere.”

“Gold star for loyalty.” He turns to me. “Why are you even alive, Lucari?”

“To murder you.”

He tsks and faces Sarah. “Honeypot, do you know why he’s still alive?”

“No,” she croaks.

Her eyes track him as if she’s going to hit him.

Don’t. Sarah. Not yet.

“My God,” Sergio says. “You guys use words and think thoughts, but there’s nothing going on up there. I had this whole organization figured out in two days except for one thing. Why hasn’t the Colonia had a traitor in however long? Why are you all so tight?”

He waits. Sarah takes a half a step out of his reach. He holds his arms out, waiting for the answer to drop into them.

“Say it or don’t,” I demand.

“Fine.” Sergio crosses his arms and leans against the opposite wall. “As the females of the Colonia go, you got your traitors”—he nods in Sarah’s direction—“and then you got your married traitors. The first, well, we know what happens there, am I right?”