Page 47 of Jude

“It will be worth it. And keep your filthy hands off me.”

A sneer crossed his face. “You can’t fight me forever.”

“I’ll fight you until I stop breathing.” If this disgusting thug tried anything with her, Octavia wouldn’t care about dying. He was not going to harm her.

The soldier in the front passenger seat turned and grinned at them. “I think even you draw the line at fucking a corpse.”

“I don’t want her now. She’s too ugly for my liking.”

The soldier in the front looked Octavia over. “She’s not bad.”

“Then you have her.”

“No one’s having me,” she growled.

“Like you get to have a say in that.” The soldier in the front of the vehicle gave her a curious look. “You sound familiar. Have we met before?”

Octavia glared at him. “Never.”

“I’m sure I know you.”

She clamped her lips together. If he recognized her voice, recognized her as Flame radio, she was in trouble.

“Are you saying you know this traitor?” asked the acne-scarred soldier.

The soldier in front continued to stare at her. “I’m not sure. I don’t recognize her face, but there’s something familiar about that voice. It will come to me. I’m good with voices.”

As the vehicle moved, Octavia looked for a way out. The back door was locked and the gap into the cab was too small to get through. She was trapped.

She tried to loosen the bonds on her wrists, but they wouldn’t budge.

Her thoughts went to Jude, and she felt sick. What were they going to do to him? He wouldn’t tell them anything. He’d die before he did that.

Octavia blinked away tears. He was strong. He would be fine. He had to be.

They traveled for twenty minutes before the vehicle stopped. Octavia tried to see outside. She got a glimpse of a gray building before the back door was pulled open.

“Everybody out who’s going to die today.” The soldier with the acne scars jumped in and shoved her in the back.

Octavia fell out of the vehicle and onto her knees, her hands still tied behind her back so she couldn’t cushion her fall.

He dragged her up by her hair. “Watch that last step.”

“Go screw yourself.”

“In your dreams.” The soldier dragged her through a set of double doors and into a waiting area.

A narrow-faced man sat behind a desk, enclosed in glass. He peered over the top of his spectacles. “Have we got a new inmate?”

The soldier nodded as he dragged Octavia to the desk and shoved her hand onto a fingerprint scanner. “She won’t be staying long. We’ll get her processed and then get her talking.”

“I won’t tell you anything,” said Octavia.

The narrow-faced man gave a quiet chuckle. “My dear, they all say that when they first arrive. Everyone talks. Don’t fight the inevitable.”

“I’ve got nothing you’ll be interested in hearing,” said Octavia.

“You’re working with the Ember brothers,” said the soldier. “We’re all interested in that.”