Be safe. Oh, please, be safe.

Without speaking—something he did less and less—Aric trotted out the door. He might go back to the barracks; he might not. Within a month of being here, her son had found every hiding place possible. Other children tried to hide; Aric succeeded.

“Whiny-ass brat.” Obadiah turned his attention back to his food, chewing it thoroughly. Crumbs tangled in his yellow-brown beard.

Hoping not to attract his attention—his interest—she concentrated on tucking in the blankets.

With a loud belch, Obadiah pushed the empty plate away. “Clean up good before you go to bed. Captain Nabera’s going to pay you a visit some time tonight. When he gets back.”

Her balance wavered, like the floor had sagged beneath her. “Why?”

“He says you know more ’n you’re saying.” Her husband’s jaw jutted forward. “You better not lie to him, or you’ll learn what a real beatin’ is.”

“I told you the truth,” she whispered, going clammy with fear.

“If so, he’ll probably reward you with a cleansing.”

She’d undergone those “cleansings” before with Nabera. With Parrish.

Frankie would call those sessions rape.

Me, too. As sickness welled inside her, Kit started to gag.

Obadiah slapped her to the floor, and pain exploded in her head. “Get those sinful, hate-filled thoughts out of your head. The Captain is right. You need to be purified.”

Holding her hand to her burning face, Kit regained her feet. Her arm throbbed, but she kept her head bowed.

She probably wouldn’t survive the next twenty-four hours.

What will happen to my baby?

Damn. Bull had known Frankie had secrets, ones that involved the PZs. The truth, though, was a hell of a lot more than he figured.

“We’re going downstairs,” he told her and held open the door to the stairway for her.

He might’ve been angrier except he understood her reasons. If she’d told him, he would have insisted on going with her, and she hadn’t wanted to put him at risk. Not if she could accomplish the mission herself. He’d have felt the same.

Her loyalty to her friend? Well, fuck, he had to love that about her. Who wouldn’t?

With her behind him, he led the way down to the tunnels that connected the five houses together. The cool, damp air held the harsh tang of minerals…and weaponry.

Because, naturally, the sarge had built a bomb shelter as well as an armory beneath his house. Mako, you were one crazy bastard.

His brothers and JJ were already in the room, pulling out what they wanted to take.

A few feet past the thick armory door, Frankie stopped to stare.

Bull smiled. “Impressive, isn’t it? Mako did most of the construction himself.”