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I have to get out of this cage, this basement. I can’t take it. The second I see my brothers, I’ll run to Ares, and tell him to kill Brandon. How does this idiot not realize I’ll do that? How does he not realize...

“Good.” He grins wickedly. “If you breathe a word of what I did to you, I will kill you. You’re going to tell your brothers you’ve fallen in love with me and that you forgive me for kidnapping you.Andthat we’ve been going at it like maniacs. Consensually.”

Fuck,that’show he plans to explain where the hell we’ve been. He assumes my brothers are morons, but hey, I go with it.

Ares wants the truce and that land deal. Tattling on what really happened these five months might not rouse Cold Ares to do the right thing by me. After all,he’sgiving me away. Alexander protected me, wanted me to destroy the Kellers.

There’s always time. I’ll use what I learned in special ops training and the CIA, play the long game.

“Fine,” I say and saunter to the cage door, waiting for him to bark at me to get back.

He doesn’t. Just smiles, waltzing up to the cage, still swinging that key.

With him so close, my rage bubbles to the surface, stealing my better senses. I act on pure murdering instinct. I can’t help it. I’m too raw and unhinged.

I strike the moment he’s close enough by grabbing his shirt and smashing the top of his head into the cage with such force, he’s knocked unconscious.

Brandon slumps in front of the cage.

If it wasn’t so quick and he cried out first, his guards would have been down here in a second. Then I’d be in trouble. They’ve been threatening to rape me for months and admitted they’d do it if they were ordered to kill me.

They know if I lived to tell my brothers that these men raped me, they’d never see another sunrise. That’s the only truth I know at this point. My only shred of confidence in Ares right now rests in the hope that he’d avenge my death.

Yet, Brandon lies on the ground out cold. The key, where is the fucking key? That ring is not on his finger anymore or in the lock. I thought he had it in there. God, I’m slipping.

Adrenaline-fueled, I keep going, keep looking. The sun peeks into the basement window and glints off metal a few feet from Brandon.

The key!

I drop to the cage floor and reach for it.

Fuck!

It’s just a few inches out of my reach. I push against the bars with bruising strength, my shoulders aching.

Think. Think. Think.

I have nothing in this cage to work with. I’m barefoot in a T-shirt and sweatpants.

I could take off my top and try to cover the key then drag it back. I hate that I worry I’ll be topless or bottomless if those animals storm down here looking for Brandon. Not that a thin piece of cloth would stop them, but sitting here naked with their boss, their leader, the man they see as king lying on the ground out cold, they’ll rape me for sure. Then kill me.

Or the other way around.

In my prime fitness, like during SEAL training, I could take on any man, any size. Maybe two if they were stupid and didn’t think to block their balls. Four meaty, savage guards? I’m smart enough to know when my brawn is useless, and I need my brain.

Brandon alone? I will kick him in the balls so hard as soon as I get out of here, he’ll never be able to procreate.

Kick. Shoes.

“Fuck,” I cuss and work to lift Brandon so I can spin him around.

Unraveling his shoelaces, I pull off one sneaker and nearly pass out from the foot odor. Brandon only let me shower once a week. Watched me himself at gunpoint. That was yesterday. I’m remotely clean. But him, man...

I toss the sneaker, holding it by the shoelaces and it slams down on the key. “Oh, dear God, yes.” I start to cry as I inch it toward me.

Movement upstairs frays my nerves, but I work faster. I get the key and unlock myself. I make a twist with my long hair, tying it into a knot, then stick the key in the bun, praying it holds if for some reason I end up back in this damn cage.

Right now, I have to fight. I frisk Brandon and my heart races, finding a Glock in an ankle strap. I check the clip and want to kiss all eight rounds.