Page 27 of Honor Bound

Julia had just become a weapon.

“Take them away,” Coleridge ordered in a cold voice.

Sergi knew he had seconds to act. Fortunately for him, the guard escorting La’Rue had been just as interested in watching the scene unfold as he had. Reaching out, he retrieved the tracking device he had hidden on La’Rue earlier in case something happened.

As the next group of soldiers escorting the Legion officer and Julia passed them, Sergi moved toward Julia.

La’Rue, who had felt his touch, caught his eye. Pride soared through him when she picked up on his unspoken message. Her glare flew to the soldiers advancing and her eyes widened with understanding when she saw Julia. She timed her distraction perfectly, shoving the soldier in front of her into the officer and Julia as they passed.

“I told you to quit pushing me!” La’Rue snarled.

Sergi stepped forward, reaching out as if to grab La’Rue. The forward movement and mass of bodies positioned him between La’Rue and Julia. He reached down and clipped the tracking device to the hem of her blouse. Julia, feeling the slight tug on her clothing, looked up at him with a startled expression. Her eyes widened when they locked with his, recognition flashing, before the soldiers pushed them apart.

“Move out,” a soldier growled at him and his companion.

Sergi’s jaw tightened as he watched them disappear down the opposite corridor.

His mind was already racing. He would rescue La’Rue first and with her help, locate and rescue Julia. He would work out along the way how they were all going to get off a Legion Star Cruiser without getting blown up.

He silently contemplated the tall, muscular Legion officer, his uniform crisp and starched, restrained next to Julia; the man’s rigid posture spoke of simmering anger. He didn’t recognize the dark-haired man, but he did recognize the tension between them—and the importance of the man’s position.

The air crackled with an unusual intensity around this man; he wasn’t just another captive.He was someone important to her — and to General Landais. A military officer didn’t react that strongly to one of his peers, no matter what they had done. No, whatever was between the two men was personal… very personal.

And that makes him valuable,Sergi decided with grim satisfaction.

* * *

The cell was cold, the walls bare metal. The only furniture in the cell was a metal cot bolted to the bulkhead. The thud of the blow to his jaw split his lip. It wasn’t the first cut to it. His tongue slid over the wound and he tasted the metallic tinge of blood.

The second blow, this one to his side, near his left lung took his breath away. He coughed, spitting the blood that had pooled in his mouth onto the floor. He watched through blurred eyes as the crimson stain spread against the dull steel.

The clip of his father’s boot heels against the metal floor as his father circled him caused him to curl his fingers behind his back. His father didn’t fight fair. He would never give anyone, much less his only son, an opportunity to defend himself.

He bit back a groan when his father wrapped his hand around his arm and dragged him back to his feet. Roan teetered, unable to move away when his father slammed his fist into his stomach.

Roan grunted,his knees buckled, and he sank down onto his knees, fighting to catch his breath. Blood seeped from his mouth, nose, and from a cut on his cheekbone. He tried breathing in through his nose, but he was pretty sure it was broken.

He lifted his head and glared at his father as he shook out his hand and flexed his fingers. With an expression of distaste, his father reached into the front pocket of his uniform and removed a crisp, white piece of cloth and wiped the blood from his knuckles.

“I should slit your throat for your betrayal.”

Roan didn’t answer. This wasn’t about questions. This was about control.

His father wanted to see him break. He would be damned if he gave the son-of-a-bitch the satisfaction. Coleridge chuckled, the sound low, almost amused.

“No words?”

His father squatted in front of him, mere inches from his face. Roan could feel his father’s hot breath against his torn flesh. He stared his sire in the eye, refusing to back down.

“You had no words when I slit Calstar’s throat either. I wonder if you would have been just as silent when Andri crushed the life out of your mother.”

The harsh reminder of his grandfather’s murder seared through his brain. Roan knew his father was trying to bait him. Even as the sharp rage exploded inside him, he kept it buried beneath the surface.

He wouldn’t react. Wouldn’t give his father that.

Coleridge rose, partially turned, before swinging back around in a brutal kick. The tip of his father’s boot connected with his ribs. Pain exploded along his side as he flew sideways and slid into the metal post of the cot.

Black dots danced before his eyes as his vision blurred. The blow had come close to knocking him out. Shaking his head, he grunted and rolled clumsily back onto his knees. His breath was coming in short pants as the waves of pain radiated outward from his ribs.

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