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“That means thirty minutes for all forty-seven of you!” He grins in a way that’s both wicked and fun. “You can go one at a time, lather one another together, clean each other balls, or whatever equation you can come up with, buteveryonegets wet.”

The barn reeks. Not from the former occupants—from the pledges. Two days of nervous sweat and anxiety has turned the room noxious. It’s common for the goats not to bathe during the gauntlet, but it’s also fun just to fuck with them a little. It was Royer’s idea. Go figure.

The cocky guys hop up first, peeling off their clothes before they even get to the bathroom, cocks and pale asses disappearing into the next room. It’s not actually a shower. It’s a stall for hosing off horses and cattle. A couple of long arms that swivel around a concrete floor area with a drain.

The next phase of guys moves quickly, just less enthusiastic, leaving the remaining goats behind. Rat runs behind them, corralling them like livestock. The other brothers, here mostly for the show, form a funnel for them to channel through. Rat runs around waving his tattooed arms.

“Come on little goats,” Rat calls. “Baaaa, we’re family here. No one cares if you have a tiny cock.”

“Jesus,” Royer laughs. “This is hilarious. Picking Rat for Warden was an excellent choice, Hansen.”

They all herd together, but there’s one dragging. Shuffling slowly behind the others in oversized sweats, while anxiously rubbing his hand over his shorn hair. That one little runt that maybe isn’t going to make it with the rest of his brothers.

“Who’s that lagging behind?” Royer asks, narrowing his eyes. “Fuck. It’s forty-seven.

He jabs me with his elbow. “Not sure your precious Theo is going to make it.”

“I’m sure he’s fine,” I reply nonchalantly.

Unfortunately, Rat is the next one to notice Theo falling behind. A dark expression crosses his face, shifting from fun to mean. My spine straightens and I watch closely.

“You afraid of water, number forty-seven? Worried about showing your tiny, limp dick to the other goats?” His hand shoots out, grabbing Reagan’s arm. To her credit, she keeps a straight face, but there’s fear lurking in her eyes and a guy like Rat can smell it. “Or maybe you like dick so much you’re scared to go in the room with forty-six of them. Afraid you’re going to get hard?” He looks her up and down. “What’ve you got hiding under all those clothes, boy?”

He lunges for her hem, and I push off the wall.

“What are you doing?” Royer asks.

I don’t answer. I don’t have a good one, but I know that if Rat gets that shirt off, my plan goes to hell. I stride across the empty barn and step between them just as Rat’s hand goes for Theo’s crotch. I stop him midair.

“What the fu—” Rat’s expression transforms in a heartbeat when he sees me. “VP.” He straightens. “What’s up?”

“Just came down to see what’s the problem.”

“It seems like forty-seven is afraid of the shower. I was just encouraging him to get in with the rest of the goats.” He looks over my shoulder to where I know Royer is watching. “Pres said, everyone gets wet.”

I nod and spare a quick glance at Reagan. She looks exhausted and harsher without the hair. It also highlights her features, the sharp cheekbones, and long eyelashes. Those goddam lips. She’s kept it together better than I expected, even though I thought she may break when Royer was talking about all the lies he told her. That’s the only time I saw a crack in her façade.

“You get in there and deal with the others.” I let my lips curl. “I deal with him on my own.”

“But everyone—”

“Gets wet. I know.” I let my eyes sweep over Reagan one more time. “Don’t worry, brother. I’ll make sure he gets a thorough soaking.”

Rat’s eyes flick between me and Reagan. His urge to fuck with the runt is overwhelming. I get it. Before Rat, the goats had to deal with me. I was the Warden last year. That’s also why he knows better than to question me. I have seniority here.

“You got it, VP. I trust that whatever you have in store for him will be equitable.” A shout comes from the shower room, and it draws his attention away. “Sounds like my supervision as warden is needed elsewhere, anyway.”

Once he’s gone, I jerk my chin toward the wide double doors. “Go.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Go to my room. Shower. Wait for me.”

Those big eyes hold mine for a minute, like she’s trying to decide which punishment is worse. The shower full of degenerate recruits? Rat? Or me?

I won’t lie and pretend like there’s a good choice here, but there is one that keeps us both from going down in flames.

“Fine.” She exhales. “Thank you.”