a moon-shaped pool - MalevolentReverie - Star Wars (2024)

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

It’s a small miracle when Rey graduates high school: small, on the grand, cosmic scale of the universe, but huge in the narrow focus of her world.

As far as she knows, no one in her family ever graduated from high school. Unkar, her foster father, certainly didn’t, and she can only assume her parents didn’t, either. That’s where her family tree ends—or begins. If she wants to be an optimist, she could consider herself the first healthy branch of a withering tree.

She’s proud when she strides across the stage and accepts her diploma, even though there isn’t anyone in the crowd waving to her. Unkar couldn’t be bothered to come.

People clap politely as Rey shakes her principal’s hand—then a familiar face springs up from the seats with an iPhone raised.

“So proud of you, Rey!” calls Mrs. Tico across the cavernous dark auditorium. It’s hard to make out her face, but Rey can imagine her smile. “Go Rey!”

Rey smiles awkwardly and waves back. Mrs. Tico whistles and keeps clapping until Rey finds her seat behind the principal, where the other students are snickering and whispering. That’s fine. She doesn’t care. It’s nice having someone acknowledge her achievement.

The rest of the names are called out one by one. It’s a slow ceremony, but when it’s over, Rey is more anxious than relieved. Things are going to change.

“Rey! Rey!”

She’s nearly bowled over by a hug. Students swirl around chatting and taking pictures and slowly making their way outside into the sunny May afternoon, and Rey clings to her best friend in the confusing swell.

Rose squeezes her for a full minute before letting go, holding her at arm’s length. She looks good: somehow the white zip-up graduation gown doesn’t make her look boxy the way it does everyone else. Rose is going to Harvard: where her dad went, and her dad’s dad went, and her dad’s dad’s dad went… And where her mom went. Lots of lawyers. Lots of smart lawyers. And Mrs. Tico owns a Taco Bell.

Rey smiles. She’s known the Ticos for most of her life, from third grade on, and it’s hard to think of a future without them around.

“My mom is so embarrassing,” Rose says, rolling her eyes. She curls her hair behind her ear and turns slightly, squinting at the crowd. “I think they’re outside waiting for us. Probably going to force us into a bunch of pictures.”

“Yeah, probably,” Rey agrees. She clutches Rose’s forearms a little tighter. “So, are you taking that gap year, or…?”

“Oh.” Rose looks back at her and bites her lower lip. She sighs, and Rey’s heart sinks. “I want to talk to you about that. Let’s go outside.”

Rey follows Rose through the thick crowd. Rose considered taking two years to go to community college nearby, but it seems like a pipe dream now. She won’t have much time to visit Ohio, and Rey won’t have the money or time to visit Massachusetts. She probably won’t be going to college. It’s too expensive to pay out of pocket and she doesn’t have anyone to cosign a loan.

She was hoping to get in somewhere on a track and field scholarship—but it turns out she isn’t that good.

They run into a few friends along the way: Finn and Snap and Poe and Kaydel, who all stop for hugs and pictures. Their parents want to see them, though, so the goodbyes are short and bittersweet.

It’s warm out. Rose pulls Rey down the steps to where Mr. and Mrs. Tico are standing and waiting with Rose’s older sister, Paige. They’re all dressed up: Mr. Tico in a suit, Mrs. Tico in a pink sheath dress, and Paige in a green sundress. They look nice all together, like a matched set.

Mrs. Tico smiles and pushes her sunglasses up to the top of her head. She hugs Rey and kisses her cheek, and Rey does the same with Mr. Tico and Paige.

“I hope I didn’t embarrass you, Rey,” Mrs. Tico says.

“You totally did.” Paige raises her eyebrows when her mother shoots her a glare. “Rey is too nice to say otherwise.”

“It was nice,” Rey says, smiling sheepishly.

Paige rolls her eyes and Mrs. Tico beams. She sweeps some lint off Rey’s shoulder, then licks her thumb to scrub a spot near the corner of Rey’s eye.

Rose slips her arm through Rey’s and pulls her closer, freeing her from the cleaning. “Can we go get lunch? I want to talk to Rey about that thing.”

Mr. Tico frowns. Mrs. Tico huffs in annoyance at being interrupted and opens up her big red handbag.

“You haven’t discussed it yet?” he asks.

“No—I wanted everyone to be here in case she had any questions.” Rose waves a hand in an impatient circle. “So, can we go?”

They go, but Mrs. Tico insists on cleaning smeared makeup on Rey’s face with a tissue first. Discuss what? Are they going to adopt her or something?

Mr. Tico drives them to an Olive Garden, which Mrs. Tico complains about. Rose loves it though, so they all head inside and get a table, and Rey sits in the far corner. She doesn’t have her wallet—oops. Not that Rose’s parents have ever let her pay for anything.

After they order drinks, Rose exchanges a weird look with her parents. They’re smiling, which is encouraging, but Rey is completely confused when Rose turns to her. Is she taking a gap year? That doesn’t seem like a huge deal, but…

“So…” Rose clasps her hands on the table and pauses, struggling to contain herself. “You know how I wanted to take time off before school, right?”

“…Yeah.” Rey looks between Paige and Rose’s parents and smiles nervously. “What about it?”

“Well, I was going to go on a big trip across Europe—see all the sites and big cities and things like that. You know, really immerse myself in the culture.”

“Oh,” Rey replies, crestfallen. “That sounds—”

“Mom and dad said you can come with me.”

Rey closes her mouth. It opens again, then closes, and she makes a weird confused sound before looking at Mr. and Mrs. Tico. They’re smiling.

Rose touches Rey’s hand on the table. “It’s for three months and we have all the travel arrangements settled, and you already know I speak French and Spanish, and I know enough German to get by. We’re going to start in Germany—”

“Oh,” Rey interrupts, shaking her head. She laughs uncomfortably. “Um… Rose, I don’t have… you know.”

“Consider it a graduation gift,” Mrs. Tico says.

“It’s all paid for,” Rose agrees, glancing at her parents. “And we can call mom and dad if we need anything. You just have to get your passport, but that shouldn’t be too hard. We were going to leave in late August or early September, and my mom knows places where we can work…”

Rose keeps talking, but Rey hardly hears her. She nods along anyhow, stunned to silence. No way. She can’t accept. Sometimes the Ticos help her out—like when she needs tampons or food or help making the rent—and they always tell her not to worry about it. This is… this is a whole different level.

Their waitress drops off their drinks and breadsticks. Paige and Rose start eating, and Rey stiffly accepts a breadstick Rose hands to her.

Mrs. Tico looks at her husband. “And, Rey—when you come back—Mister Tico and I would like to help you with college.”

Rey starts shaking her head again, but Mrs. Tico waves her off and continues: they want to pay for two years of community college, and if Rey gets good grades, they’ll help her with loans and scholarships for whatever else she wants to do.

“But you need to study,” Mrs. Tico says, waving her index finger. “We’ll have space for you to live with us once Rose has moved out, and I don’t want to see you working full time. School is more important.”

“And visiting me,” Rose interjects with a mouthful of breadstick. She grins at Rey and chokes a little when she swallows. “That’s more important than anything.”

“Rey isn’t going to want to hang out with your weirdo snob friends at Harvard, Rose,” Paige snips.

They squabble. Mr. Tico rubs his temple and sips his iced tea and Mrs. Tico snaps at them to be quiet. Rey stares blankly into space.

The waitress returns to take their orders. When she comes to Rey, she finds her voice won’t work—and then, embarrassingly, she breaks down into tears. And thank-yous. Lots of thank-yous.

—•—

The trip comes up much faster than anticipated.

Rey manages to get her passport in time—it comes in two weeks before they’re set to leave, and they’re going to Berlin first. She’s never been outside Ohio; never set foot on a plane. It’s exciting. And scary.

Unkar gives Rey a hard time about the trip and Rey ignores him like she usually does. The Ticos help her start moving her stuff into their house and that really sets Unkar off, and one night he gets into it with Rey. The cops come and Mrs. Tico shows up, too, and she worries maybe she changed her mind. Maybe she thinks Rey is too much work; too much drama.

“You’re never coming back here,” Mrs. Tico snaps when she sees the bruise on Rey’s cheek.

It’s a strange time. A hopeful time. Rey hasn’t felt so excited about anything in a very long time.

And the trip sneaks up on Rey before she knows it. She’d been looking forward to getting away from everything, but when the day comes and Mrs. Tico wakes her at three A.M. for the flight, she can’t imagine leaving.

Paige sleepily says goodbye at the door. She’s home on break from the SUNY school she attends—Binghamton, which was not her parents’ first choice. She gives Rose an extra long hug and tells her to be safe, then they head out into the cool September morning with Mr. and Mrs. Tico.

It’s a quiet drive to the airport. Rey dozes off, and she’s woken up again by Mrs. Tico.

“We’re here, honey,” Mrs. Tico says.

They’ve packed light: Rose has two checked bags and Rey has one. Mr. Tico helps them wheel their things through the small airport, keeping a brisk pace ahead of them, and Rey’s heart starts pounding. This all feels overwhelming and confusing, but Rose has flown before, so she knows what to do. They have a layover at JFK in New York, and then it goes straight to Berlin.

Mr. Tico stops a couple feet away from security. He turns to hug Rey, then hugs Rose, too.

“Be safe,” he says. “Call us if you need anything. Be very wary. Don’t flash your money.”

“Yes, dad,” Rose mumbles.

Mrs. Tico hugs them goodbye next. She lingers on Rey, and when she releases, she has tears in her eyes. She sniffles and clears her throat and picks lint off Rey’s shoulder. Rose is busy fielding more advice from her dad.

“Stay together,” Mrs. Tico says, and clears her throat again. “Call me when you land.”

Rey nods, wiping away her own tears. “We will. Thank you, Missus Tico.”

“It’s the least I could do.” She touches the corners of her eyes with a tissue. “I’ve been waiting to peel you away from that awful man for years—and now I have, and you’re going to be gone for three months.” Mrs. Tico exhales a shaky breath and puts on a smile that wavers. “You’ll always have a home with us, Rey. So have fun—enjoy yourself.”

They hug again. Rey unwillingly lets go, and gives Mr. and Mrs. Tico one more wave as she follows Rose to the security line. They wave until the corner cuts them off and Rey can’t see them anymore.

—•—

The traveling process is stressful as hell. Rey is grateful that Rose is a pretty seasoned traveler, because she gets them where they need to go without missing a step.

Rose doesn’t relax until they’re on the international flight. She finally takes a deep breath and lets it out, then starts listing off all the things there are to see in Germany: museums and artwork and historical sites, and she thinks the food is pretty good, too.

“A lot of them speak English there,” Rose says, adjusting her neck pillow. “We might have more trouble in France, but that’s no big deal. We’ll be fine with Spanish and Vietnamese, too.”

“Collecting languages like Pokémon cards, huh?”

Rose snorts. “Do you know what the Department of Defense pays polyglots?”

“A lot, I’m guessing.”

“A lot.”

They laugh. Rose settles in with a movie on her phone and Rey turns on her music. She’s already texted Mrs. Tico a couple times to let her know everything is going well, and Rose knows exactly what she’s doing. Mrs. Tico sends back smile emojis and a plane.

Stay safe 😃😃😃✈️

The plane lands around midnight in Berlin. They deplane and pick up their luggage from the carousel, and Rey makes sure to send another text to Mrs. Tico. It’s quiet, and Rose’s voice echoes off the walls while she talks about their apartment and getting a cab.

“It’s nice,” Rose says. She leans on her luggage handle. “My mom’s cousin lives outside the city and really wants to see me, so I think we’ll go there tomorrow, if that’s okay.”

“Sure.” Rey locks her phone after getting a thumbs-up from Mrs. Tico. “Do they have Uber here?”

“Yeah, yeah. I think it was banned here or something for a long time. Isn’t that crazy?”

“Really?”

“Yup. We can just get a taxi, too—”

They’re rolling away from luggage claim when Rose bumps into a man. She squeaks and apologizes, and he smiles and nods. She tries to step around him and they wind up stepping into the same path again.

“Ugh!” Rose exclaims. “I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t worry,” responds the man. He’s tall and lean and has red hair. He’s dressed nicely and not a hair is out of place. “It was my mistake.”

Rey doesn’t know accents very well, but his is definitely not German. French, maybe? She smiles slightly at him and he smiles at her, then begins to walk away. And then he stops.

“Forgive me—” He takes two steps back, both hands in the pockets of his long black coat. “Were you two looking for a taxi?”

“Um…” Rose looks back at Rey who tries to communicate ‘no’ with her eyes. It doesn’t work, because Rose looks at the man and nods. “Yes, we were.”

“I could help you,” the man says. He offers a gloved hand for a shake, like an afterthought. “I’m Armitage.”

Rose shakes his hand and offers her name. He smiles and gives her a lingering stare that makes Rey’s hackles rise up.

“I’m Rey,” Rey interrupts, bustling between them. She shakes Armitage’s hand with two quick pumps. “Nice to meet you. We can just get a taxi.”

“I have one,” Armitage replies. He returns his hand to his coat and gives Rey another strange smile. “I was just taking a break, but I can make an exception. Were you two going far?”

Rose tells him their address. Rey widens her eyes and gives her another look, but Rose is too busy staring at Armitage to notice. It’s… weird. Rose is usually the more careful one of the two of them, and she’s not crazy into guys. Must be the accent—and he’s obviously a lot older than them.

Rey takes him in again. He’s not dressed like the taxi drivers she’s used to seeing. Looks too neat and polished. Suspicious.

“Oh, that’s just a short drive,” Armitage says. He takes a half-step away. “Shall we go?”

Rey grabs Rose by her backpack. “I have to make a call. Sorry. Hope you have a nice break, sir.”

Rose shakes her off. She glares and Rey glares back.

“We’re in Berlin, Rey,” Rose says, “not Tijuana. Relax.” She returns her attention to Armitage and nods. “Sorry—if you don’t mind, we’d love a ride.”

Ugh. Rey scowls, but texts Mrs. Tico on their way out of the airport. She snaps a picture of Armitage and sends it over, but Mrs. Tico doesn’t answer. She was probably waiting up all day for their text and finally went to lay down.

Rose and the French guy are clearly hitting it off. They chat in French while waiting for Rey to heft her stuff into the back of his black Mercedes. Seems odd for a taxi driver, but when Rey mentions it, Rose tells her that lots of people in Germany drive them.

“They’re German cars, Rey,” Rose laughs, and the man smiles.

“Well, they’re expensive hot garbage in America,” Rey replies tersely.

Rose sits up front and Rey sits in the back. Armitage keeps rattling off stuff in French and seems to be way too impressed when Rose responds. They laugh. Rey keeps her arms crossed and looks out the window at the passing buildings. It’s too dark to see much.

She’s on edge for the entire half hour drive, and doesn’t relax until Rose looks up and confirms they’re at their building. Rey quickly gets out.

Armitage helps them get their things out of the trunk. He kisses Rose’s cheeks when they say goodbye like he’s going off to war or something. Rey rolls her eyes and impatiently taps her foot. Seriously, what the hell is going on?

“Thank you,” Rose says. She gazes at him for a minute, then gasps and paws around for her wallet. “Oh, shoot—sorry—”

“No worries,” Armitage says. He takes a step or two back and raises his eyebrows. “You can make it up to me tomorrow evening.”

What? Rose nods and smiles and she waves when he gets in his car and drives off.

Rey grabs her arm. “What the hell was that?”

“Yeah, what the hell?” Rose pulls away and puts up both hands, eyebrows raised. “You can’t be paranoid like that, Rey. People will think you’re rude.”

“So? He was weird!”

“We got here in one piece, didn’t we?”

Rose walks past her and up the steps of the building. Rey huffs and follows.

“And what did he mean, ‘tomorrow evening’?’” Rey sarcastically air-quotes the last two words.

Rose shrugs, keys jangling in her hand. “He invited us to a thing.”

“A thing? Does he know you graduated high school three months ago?”

“Don’t go if you’re just going to embarrass me.”

The door opens. Rose leans in to turn on some lights and wheels in one of her bags. She doesn’t look at Rey when she grabs her other two bags, and leaves the door open for her to come in.

Rey remains at the foot of the stairs, wounded and completely confused. What the hell happened? This isn’t the Rose she grew up with—it’s not even the same Rose she was talking to on the plane.

Rey checks her phone to see if Mrs. Tico texted back. There isn’t anything, and she’s antsy standing on the dark street alone, so she lugs her suitcase up the steps and enters the apartment.

Chapter 2

Chapter Text

Rose is in a better mood by morning, and she apologizes during breakfast.

“I’m just so stressed, you know?” Rose shakes her head, watching passerby, more distant than she ever has been. She takes a bite of her omelet and shrugs. “I don’t know. I’m sorry for being such a bitch.”

“It’s okay,” Rey says, shrugging in return. “We had a long day yesterday.”

And it’s a nice day so far: cool, but not miserably cold, and the sun is shining. Their walk to the café was uneventful and the people here seem to be… pleasant. She wouldn’t call them friendly, at least not by the standards she’s used to from her small town. Pleasant, though. One guy helped them with directions to the café, but he seemed kind of annoyed.

Rey picks at her own breakfast: an omelet with sausage. Berlin is big. It’s kind of stressful. But she got a hold of Mrs. Tico, so that was a relief—and she agreed with Rey that Armitage was suspicious. Mrs. Tico texted Rose, but Rose hasn’t mentioned it.

Rose crosses her arms over her chest and shivers.

“He was cute, right?” she asks. “Armitage?” Rey glances up from her plate and shrugs, and Rose gets that far away look in her eyes. “No one has ever looked at me like that before.”

“I think you just liked his accent, Rose.”

That earns Rey a dirty look. She smiles, trying to lighten the mood, but Rose shakes her head and glares out at the street. Whoops.

“Sorry,” Rey says.

“I thought you’d be more supportive. You know mom and dad didn’t want me to date in high school.”

“Was there anyone worth dating in that place?”

“No,” Rose replies curtly, “but there are guys worth dating now.”

“You don’t think it was weird how he happened to stumble across us at that exact moment?”

“It was a meet-cute, Rey.”

“A what?”

Rose heaves a sigh, and for a second Rey thinks she made things worse—but then Rose smiles and laughs. She goes back to eating her breakfast and doesn’t mention Armitage again.

—•—

Rose’s cousin, Nina, and her husband, Paul, are nice. Nina is a teacher and Paul does something for the government. Their apartment is beautiful, just like the one where Rose and Rey are staying, and everything is organized and neat. They also have a big shaggy black dog named Scout and he nearly bowls Rey over.

“Sorry!” Nina sighs, grasping his collar. “He’s still a puppy.”

“It’s okay,” Rey says, smiling and crouching. She scratches behind his ears and he sits and puts a paw on her shoulder. “I love dogs.”

Nina and Paul live in Potsdam, a city outside Berlin. Rey takes tons of pictures of the different palaces they visit and Paul tells them all about each place when they stop. Rey listens politely, though she doesn’t remember most of what Paul talks about from her history classes.

It’s busy here. There are lots of people and they all have somewhere to be as soon as possible. That’s probably par for the course for big cities but Rey has never been to one, and taking public transport has been foreign and a little stressful. Thankfully Rose knows what she’s doing and isn’t bothered by it.

At lunch everyone chats about what it’s like back home, and Rey quietly eats her sandwich. The food in Germany is good so far, but Rey isn’t a picky eater.

“Do you have any idea what you’d like to go to college for, Rey?”

She glances up, mouth full, and hurries to swallow and answer Nina’s question.

“Um…” Rey shrugs sheepishly. “I’m not sure, really. Maybe HVAC.”

“HVAC?” Paul echoes, frowning. Nina says something in German and he nods and smiles. “Ah, I see.”

Rose co*cks her head, also frowning. “Really?”

“Yeah. It’s good money.”

Rose puckers her lips but doesn’t say anything else.

They go back to Nina and Paul’s for the rest of the afternoon and have dinner with them. Rey spends most of her time playing with Scout while they talk about family stuff and the rest of the trip. It’s all planned out. Rey half-listens to what Rose says, interested, but aimless.

It’s late when they get back to the apartment. Rose wanders off to call her mother and Rey takes a shower. Their bathroom is fancy. It has one of those waterfall showerheads. No bidet. Rose told her they’ll probably see those in France.

Rey lays in bed staring at the ceiling after she’s clean and changed into pajamas Mrs. Tico bought her. This trip is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity—she’ll probably never have the money to visit Europe again. It’s nice so far, too. The food is good and it’s not that different from home.

But she kind of can’t wait to get back to Ohio.

—•—

“Rey. Rey.”

It’s still dark when Rey wakes up to Rose standing over her. She squeals in shock, sitting up so fast she almost hits her in the face. Rose laughs.

“Jesus, Rose!” Rey snaps. She rubs her eyes and huffs. “What is it?”

“Don’t be mad.”

Something falls on Rey’s lap. She looks down at a pile of clothes, frowns, and looks up at Rose.

“What…?”

“Armitage texted me—”

“Rose!”

Rose groans and bounces on the balls of her feet. “Come on, Rey! He can get us into Berghain—do you know what that is?”

“Rose—”

“He knows the guy—the bouncer. It’s super hard to get in to and it’s supposed to be really fun, but we have to go now because—”

“No!”

“All the locals go after four to avoid the tourists.” Rose clasps her hands and beams. “I brought you something cool to wear.”

Rey notices Rose is wearing all black: just a plain turtleneck and black pants and boots. She has all her ear piercings and her nose ring in that she still hasn’t told her mom about. Her hair is up and she’s wearing makeup. It’s not her usual style.

Rey blinks blearily and looks at her alarm clock. Yep. It’s four in the f*cking morning.

“I’m not going,” Rey snaps.

“Armitage is bringing a frieeend.” Rose drags out the middle of the word and raises her eyebrows. “For you.”

“Hard pass.”

“He’s German. He works in finance.”

“I don’t care,” Rey hisses, flopping on her back.

“I sent him a picture of you and he thinks you’re pretty. Want to see one of him? He’s hot.”

“You sent him—?!”

Rose sits and tries to show her, but Rey refuses to look. She gets up to use the bathroom and when she gets out, Rose is waiting right outside the door. She still has that sh*t-eating grin on her face.

“It’s a once in a lifetime experience!” Rose exclaims when Rey storms off. “We won’t take any drinks from anyone and I promise we’ll stay away from the dark rooms—”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“Well…” Rose hesitates. “We’ll be safe, I promise.”

Rey keeps refusing and even gets back into bed—but Rose threatens to go alone, and she can’t let that happen. Mrs. Tico will be mad, but more importantly, something bad might happen to Rose.

So Rey gets up and puts on the weird outfit: all black, like Rose’s, but her shirt is long-sleeved tightly knit mesh and her black bra shows through it. Her pants are loose at least, and the boots are comfortable. Rose does her makeup and puts her hair back in a messy bun.

“It’s going to be so much fun,” Rose insists. “Just don’t act like a tourist.”

“Okay?”

“Don’t look surprised or embarrassed, you know? They won’t let you in if they think you’re just going to stare at everyone else.” Rose turns to Rey on the stairs and raises her eyebrows. “And don’t tell mom.”

Too late for that. Rey shrugs and nods, then looks up when someone knocks on the front door.

Rose squeals. She grabs Rey’s hand and drags her down the stairs, then takes a second to compose herself before opening the door.

Armitage is there: tall and familiar, wearing the same long black coat from the day before. His hands are in his pockets and he’s talking to an even taller guy standing next to him, also wearing a black coat. Must be the style here. No one here wears their pajamas in public, apparently.

Armitage kisses Rose’s cheeks and Rey offers him a polite hand shake when he tries to do the same to her. He pauses, but smiles and shakes her hand.

Rey glances up at the friend: his hair is dark and he’s broader in the shoulders than Armitage. He doesn’t shake or anything, just nods to Rose before looking down at Rey. He’s okay-looking: big nose, long face. Definitely way too old for her. He doesn’t smile when she uncomfortably smiles at him, but he just stares, expressionless. Her spine prickles.

“Rey, this is Kylo,” Rose says, smiling from ear-to-ear. “He mostly speaks German, but…”

“He understands English,” Armitage supplies.

Rey nods and tries to smile again, and Kylo’s piercing gaze finally wanders away from her. Jesus Christ.

Rose and Armitage chat as he leads them to a different black car than the one from the night before. Rey frowns, pausing outside it with her arms crossed, and Kylo opens the rear passenger door for her. Rose gets in the front passenger seat without a second of hesitation.

Rey glances up tentatively at Kylo. He’s staring at her again, blank-faced.

“Thanks,” she mutters, and she gets in, because she can just sense he’s annoyed by her. Kylo gets in on the other side and they’re off once Armitage is in the driver’s seat.

Like Rose, Rey didn’t do much dating in high school: there was the occasional lunch date and a kiss or two here and there with Poe, but nothing serious. She’s unsettled by Kylo. Nervous, for sure. But it’s not like she needs to impress him—he clearly doesn’t like her, and they don’t even speak the same language.

She picks at her mesh shirt and watches him from the corner of her eye. He has to be in his thirties. He’s wearing all black like the rest of the group and there isn’t much skin showing, just his big hands and his head. He has veins in his hands—Rey’s gaze lingers there, oddly mesmerized. There’s a silver ring on his middle finger with an intricate design she can’t make out. Is he married?

“Hey Rey, can I have your phone?”

Rey peels her eyes away from Kylo’s hands. She frowns at Rose.

“Why?” she asks.

“We can’t have them in Berghain.” Rose holds out her hand expectantly. “So we’ll just leave them in the car.”

“No pictures are allowed,” Armitage adds.

“…Well—”

“We’ll just put them in the glove compartment,” Rose says. She impatiently opens and closes her hand. “It’s safe in there. There’s tons of security.”

Rey clutches her phone a bit tighter. “I don’t know.”

But Rose insists and Kylo fixates another icy stare on her, so Rey hands over her phone. She feels exposed without it. Uneasy.

Armitage spends some time finding a place to park, and once or twice Kylo speaks to him in German. His voice is deep and he talks fast but says very little. Something makes Armitage laugh and shake his head. Rey can’t even begin to pick out individual words. She knows one: nein. That’s about it.

They get out in the dark and walk towards an imposing concrete building down a wide pathway. There’s a huge line that extends to the sidewalk, but Kylo bypasses it with Armitage and Rose.

Rey stops. “Hey, I think the line starts—”

Someone whistles, sharp and low. Rey blinks and finds the other three watching her from halfway up the line. Rose laughs and says something to Armitage, looking away from Rey, but Kylo is watching her, hands in his coat pockets. He takes one hand out and snaps his fingers rapidly at his side like he’s calling a dog, then he resumes walking, not looking back at her.

Embarrassed, angry heat rushes to Rey’s cheeks. She crosses her arms and hurries after them.

They come to the front of the line, where a very intimidating man with gray hair and tattoos is waiting. He looks at them and Kylo nods and the man nods back. They talk in low voices.

Rey stops beside Rose, shivering. The man looks past Kylo’s arm at Rey, and Kylo turns a half inch to look at her, too. His dark eyes sweep down her before he returns to talking to the man.

“What are they saying?” Rey whispers.

“He doesn’t want to let you in,” Armitage says from the other side of Rose.

Too bad, so sad, Rey thinks, but then the man beckons them forward. Rose makes a soft excited squeak as they approach an ominous black door, and Rey trails a half-step behind. She passes Kylo, who stares at her, then follows.

Inside it’s very dark and kind of loud. Someone stamps Rey’s hand and she mutters a thank you, swiftly moving forward so she doesn’t lose Rose.

The noise through the next door is immense. Rey winces and covers her ears, stepping into a cavernous concrete room with shifting multicolor strobe lights and a thick crowd of people. It smells faintly of sweat and alcohol and mingled perfumes and colognes. It’s gigantic. It’s really hard to see.

Rose has her arm linked through Armitage’s. She laughs at something he says and he leads her forward, and even though Rey calls out, they swiftly disappear. Still wincing, Rey turns around like there might be something behind her that can help find Rose.

Kylo is right there. Rey shrieks and jumps back a step, but her voice is lost in the pounding music.

He fishes in his coat pocket. Rey’s heart is still racing when he offers her something on his open palm: earplugs, illuminated by a passing pink light.

She scowls and shakes her head. He watches her take a few more steps back through the crowd and is still presumably watching when she almost falls over on her butt. Once the crowd merges and blocks him from view, Rey starts hunting for Rose. She couldn’t have gotten far. She wouldn’t be dumb enough to be alone with Armitage anywhere.

It doesn’t take Rey long to find them. They’re at the bar and Rose is drinking; Rey’s eyes widen as she watches Rose take a sip from a pink drink in a tall glass. She hurries over, muttering an apology when she bumps into a tall woman wearing a black choker. It’s slightly quieter here, but not by much.

“Hey!” Rey calls as she comes to stand between Rose and Armitage’s chairs. She offers him a tight smile and looks over at Rose. “Um… you’re drinking?”

“Yeah, it’s not big deal here!” Rose sips her drink and looks over her shoulder. “Where’s Kylo?”

“I don’t know—”

“Would you like a drink, Rey?” Armitage interrupts.

“No—”

He motions to the bartender. Rey tries to refuse but she’s offered something clear in a shorter glass, and Armitage smiles as he offers it to her.

“It hasn’t been tampered with,” he says loudly over the music. He offers it again, still smiling.

Rey glances at Rose. She’s sipping her drink with her eyes closed, head bobbing lightly with the music, multicolored lights dancing across her face. It strikes Rey strongly all of a sudden—they’re too young to be here; they don’t fit in at all. They need to leave.

Armitage brightens. Rey doesn’t have to look up to know Kylo is standing beside her.

“Why don’t you take Rey to the garden?” Armitage suggests. He hands Kylo the drink. “Rose and I are going to dance.”

“Dance?” Rey echoes.

Rose raises her eyebrows and exchanges a look with Armitage. She has that smile on her face like she did the other day; like Rey is her embarrassing sheltered sister and she’s sorry for how weird she is. Rey clenches her jaw and swallows the lump in her throat.

“Go relax!” Rose calls. “We’ll catch up later.”

“Rose—”

Rey grabs her wrist as she gets up. Rose roughly pries her hand off and pushes it to her side, glaring.

“You’re only here because of me, Rey,” Rose snaps. Her jaw shifts from side to side like she’s considering her words. “Quit being so ungrateful.”

The music thumps so hard it rattles Rey’s teeth. She stands there, blinking in shock as Rose fades into the crowd with Armitage’s arm around her shoulders. Rey doesn’t move for a very long minute, then she finally drops her gaze, anger prickling up her nape. Fine. If Rose wants to take risks—fine.

Angry tears burn in Rey’s eyes as she pivots and storms off the other way. Kylo steps swiftly out of her path and she pushes through the crowd until she comes out on the other side, where the music fades enough that she can hear herself think.

She sniffles and wipes her eyes with the backs of her hands. This sucks. It’s so loud and she doesn’t fit in—not that she’s ever fit in anywhere, but it feels even worse being thousands of miles from home.

“The Garden is ahead. It is quiet there.”

Kylo’s voice comes from behind her. His accent is thick but he enunciates every vowel sharply and carefully, so he isn’t hard to understand. Rey nods and sniffles again, and he steps past her to lead the way. That will be good. Somewhere quiet to sit.

They come outside to a big open area that’s swarming with people. Fresh air. It’s lit up with string lights along pergolas woven with vines and flowers and there are fabric lounge chairs scattered around the stone walkways. Rey crosses her arms and makes her way to a blue chair in a far dark corner, where she plops down to pout. Kylo sets her drink on the glass table beside her, then takes a seat at a chair a few feet away.

It’s cold, but the sun is coming up. Rey tries to hide her shivering for a few minutes but it must be obvious, because Kylo gets up and offers her his coat. She shakes her head, glaring ahead. He lingers for a minute, then makes a low irritated huff in his throat.

He sweeps the coat over her and tucks in the corners around her shoulders. Rey stiffens and tries to steady her trembling jaw and glowers at his broad back when he returns to his seat.

They sit in silence for a long time. Kylo’s coat is unfortunately very warm and she can’t bring herself to peel it off in protest. She watches people milling around with drinks and glances at hers on the table beside her. She should go check on Rose.

Or maybe not. She seemed pretty happy with Armitage.

“This is your first visit to Germany.”

Rey peers to her left. It’s a statement, not a question. Kylo is watching her, expressionless, arms on the armrests of his chair. His black sweater clings a bit to his body and he is… big. It makes her belly flip. She’s never felt that around a guy before—like the floor is falling out from under her.

She looks away, back out across the garden. “Yes.”

Nothing else comes for another painful couple minutes. Rey waits and waits, then gets up from her chair. Thirsty. Gotta get some water. Definitely not going to ask for help. She’ll suffer through.

She doesn’t have to go far before she finds a cooler filled with mineral water bottles. She picks up one, sniffling still, then sighs and picks up another. After testing to make sure the seals aren’t broken, she returns to her secluded spot.

Kylo eyes narrow infinitesimally when she offers him a bottle. He leans forward and accepts it, and she feels his eyes on her while she sits. She covers herself with the coat, curling her legs up under it.

She waits. Music floats through the cold air, voices mingling with the tune.

“He won’t hurt her, will he?” Rey asks, tentative.

“No.”

“Oh.” She exhales. “Good.”

“They are probably f*cking.”

Rey blinks. She sits up, coat sliding forward as she turns to look at Kylo. He doesn’t react and heat creeps into her cheeks.

“She’s seventeen,” Rey blurts.

“Yes?”

“Well—Rose has never—” Rey huffs when Kylo continues to stare blankly at her. “She hasn’t… you know.”

“I do not know.”

“She’s a virgin.”

Kylo’s poker face doesn’t change. Rey presses her lips together and flops back in her chair, embarrassed. Yeah, she really doesn’t fit in here. She’s not crazy, right? Rose shouldn’t waste her first time on some random guy in a loud, crowded club. She’ll regret it. What if she’s been drinking?

She waits another few minutes, tapping her fingers nervously on the side of her bottle.

“I should go check on her,” Rey mutters. She gets up, letting Kylo’s coat fall to the chair. “I’ll just find her downstairs and make sure she’s okay.”

Kylo doesn’t respond. He takes a sip from his water bottle and looks ahead as Rey bustles by.

It’s oppressive inside. The booming music pounds up the soles of Rey’s shoes and the air is thick and heavy, and it’s much darker than the garden. Rey swallows back her anxiety as she presses into the crowd, squinting, searching for any sign of Rose. Maybe she’s in the bathroom, or one of those rooms lining the walls. Rey has a sneaking suspicion that she shouldn’t go into any of those rooms.

She’s pushed around and squished in the crowd, and for a while she gives in to it, letting herself be moved along towards the edge. Rey is spat out by the bar and she stumbles a step, catching her breath and running a hand through her hair. She leans up on her tiptoes and squints—and then she sees a redhead. It’s a relief. Getting hot in here.

Rey sighs and starts to wave to catch Armitage’s attention. Good, he and Rose haven’t gone anywhere. Rose likes him now, but she’ll… regret…

Rey stops waving. Her smile fades, hand falling slowly back to her side.

He has Rose in his arms. Her head lolls on Armitage’s shoulder, arms limp at her sides. Her face is pink and sweaty and her hair is a mess, lips parted, eyes closed. She’s unconscious.

Armitage is talking to another man with an earpiece, and while Rey watches, the two men start forward through the crowd. It takes a split second for them to be lost. Gone.

“No,” Rey whispers. She shakes her head, frozen in fear, then lurching forward. “No—no!”

Panicked, Rey shoves through, ignoring the hisses and cursing and glares. She stops to catch her breath, squeezed again, heart pounding up in her throat. Then she’s clawing and pushing and finally gets to an empty pocket: empty, with no sign of Rose or Armitage or anything else.

Rey clutches her head in both hands. It’s hard to breathe. She hyperventilates, eyes wide and staring in the direction she thinks Rose went. She just stares, nauseated from terror—then she turns, slowly.

Kylo looms in the not-so-far distance. Blue and pink lights dance across his long, blank face, and people dance around him, but he towers over them and isn’t moved by them.

Rey stares. He stares back.

She runs.

It’s almost impossible to move people, but the white-hot terror pumping through Rey gives her strength she didn’t know she had. She pushes and pushes, not bothering with ‘excuse me’s’; not bothering with being polite. It’s getting hot. Suffocating.

And he’s there, not five feet in front of her. Her heart stops and she backpedals in a panic. Kylo just watches until she’s swallowed up in the safety of the crowd.

Rey struggles to catch her breath, hand trembling as she passes it through her hair. Sweat beads on her neck and chest. She swallows and tries looking over the dancers for Kylo, and backs carefully away, watching the strobe lights dappled over the sea of people. Even if she screamed, no one would hear her.

She bumps into someone who doesn’t move. She keeps her eyes straight ahead on the lights moving across the crowd as fingertips brush over her hair, so light and tentative that she hardly feels it. Rey swallows, coiled like a spring, waiting for him to grab her—but he doesn’t. Her breaths come faster and her eyes close as his light touch brushes her cheek.

Rey bolts sharply to her left. She aggressively forces her way out of the crowd and this time, she doesn’t encounter Kylo on the fringe.

It’s hard to see. She’s hot and disoriented from being pushed around on the dance floor, and she staggers to the closest wall to catch her weight. Her cheek tingles where Kylo touched her and it’s like all her consciousness tunes in to that sensation; like the music and light and heat are twisting in a spiral towards that point.

Rey’s knees buckle. She manages to stay upright, vaguely aware of how hard she’s breathing, pressing her hot cheek to the cool wall. Her eyes flutter. It’s so hot in here. It’s so hot.

“Shh, shh.”

In the next moment, Rey is being picked up off the floor, and her captor is shushing her confused whimpers. Her head lolls on an unfamiliar shoulder and she shivers as she’s carried from the dark, cramped club into the cool morning. Her eyelids lift, brows raising, and she sees a brown door shut.

She’s carried down an alley and around a corner. The light fades and there’s only the soft sound of traffic far off in the distance, and the closer, more ominous sound of echoing footsteps on cobblestone.

They stop. Rey shivers more from memory than instinct, and she is placed on the cold ground, leaned against the brick wall.

Her eyes roll back in her head. She doesn’t feel any better after leaving the club: her head is swimming and her eyes are heavy and she doesn’t know how she’ll face Mrs. Tico. Rey whimpers, head drooping to the side. She blinks slowly at the person standing before her, only managing to look up to his black belt. Kylo, she thinks.

Something glints. Rey swallows and watches as the shiny black barrel of a gun is aimed at her face. It doesn’t waver. She blinks slowly. Somewhere in the back of her mind she feels afraid.

It’s quiet for a long pause. Rey keeps watching the gun, and the hand holding it trembles. Metal rattles briefly, like a breeze has gone through Kylo.

“You are a loose string, little mouse,” he says. The gun co*cks. “I cannot leave a loose string.”

Rey doesn’t reply. She closes her eyes and waits. She’s always been a loose end.

Nothing comes. She waits, teetering on the precipice of unconsciousness, listening to the vague whoosh of traffic off in the distance. Rey manages to open her eyes and she finds Kylo staring down at her. Glaring down at her. His lower eyelid twitches. His knuckles go white on the gun and he raises his arm, locking his elbow, shifting forward a step.

Traffic carries on. Quiet carries on.

Kylo’s arm falls slowly to his side. His jaw shifts from side to side, sharp and angry, but his face is unreadable. His eyes flicker down to his gun and he presses something on the side. It clicks.

Rey’s eyes flutter shut. Well… at least now she doesn’t have to tell Mrs. Tico that she lost Rose.

Chapter 3

Chapter Text

Rey wakes in the dark. She’s on a floor—lying on a hard mattress. A thin and scratchy blanket covers her, but it isn’t doing much to keep out the cold.

She slowly blinks her eyes as the room swirls around and fractures in two, and she decides to try to sit up. It’s a bad choice. Nausea comes and she nearly vomits but she manages to lie back down quick enough to avoid it. She doesn’t get a good look around and it’s too dark to see much, but there is a small window high up above her.

Rey shudders and sniffles. It smells odd in here. Musty and sweet, like perfume in a basem*nt. Cheap perfume. Where could Rose be? Is she nearby? Hopefully they were taken to the same place. Hopefully Rey can see her and apologize and try to make it right. Hopefully she can get them out of here before…

A sound comes from the darkness.

Rey lifts her head and sees a strange man entering the room. His features are indistinguishable in the dark, but he’s too short to be Kylo or Armitage. She shrinks back as he comes to kneel beside her. He says something in German, she guesses, but she can’t be sure.

He repeats himself when she doesn’t answer. Rey stares, too dizzy and disoriented to think of what to say. What does he want? Who is he?

The man grasps the edge of her blanket. Rey shakes her head and pulls it tighter. She can make out her surroundings better, and she sees featureless gray cement walls all around. Is this… what is this?

“No,” she says when the man pulls harder. “I’m sorry—I don’t—”

The man yanks the blanket away. He leans forward, pushing Rey on her back, and she becomes suddenly, frighteningly aware of what he wants. She screams.

He claps a hand over her mouth and hisses. Rey thrashes and screams and paws at his wrist: he pushes down and slots a knee between her thighs. She struggles frantically with her attacker; doesn’t beg or scream again. Her throat grows tight and her skin tingles with anticipation because she knows exactly what he wants.

The door groans open again. There is a pause, and the man looks toward the door.

Rey shrieks at an ear-splitting bang followed by a sickening thunk. She jerks back as the man collapses to his side on the floor, blood gushing from a hole in the side of his head. It’s gory. It can’t be real. She breathes hard and heavy and stares at him, too stunned to look at the door and too stunned to make a sound.

Footsteps come. Rey blinks and looks up, lightheaded.

Kylo looms over the man’s corpse. His gun is at his side, shiny black and reeking of smoke and fire, and he has another gun in his belt loop at his back. He studies the body, unflinching and stony-faced—and then he raises the gun.

He lets off another round in the man’s skull, then another, and he keeps going, each bullet casting a split-second golden glow that lights up the small room. Rey cowers against the wall with her hands over her ears, stuck in a permanent flinch from the loud bang of each shot. She’s never heard a gun go off before. She had no idea it was so loud.

The shooting doesn’t end until the chamber clicks empty. Kylo tries a few more times after the fact, still expressionless, then finally lets his arm fall back to his side.

Rey trembles against the wall while Kylo tucks his gun somewhere behind his back. He stares at the corpse and still doesn’t look at Rey as he turns and leaves the room without saying a single word to her. He slams the door shut behind him.

Loud voices come a few minutes later—or maybe it’s an hour. She’s still pressed against the wall in frozen shock, trying her best not to look at the bloody stump of a skull three feet away from her. Throwing up would not be good right now. Maybe Kylo will shoot her. Maybe he just didn’t do it outside because he didn’t want to get caught.

But it’s hard to think right now. Her brain is going in a thousand different directions and when the door opens for a third time, Rey is shaking so violently that she realizes she isn’t going to be able to hold back her vomit. Thankfully she manages not to vomit directly on the corpse.

Multiple footsteps come her way. She’s hardly done spitting out the remnants of puke before she’s grabbed by the back collar of her shirt and hauled to her knees. Fingers tangle in the hair at the base of her scalp. Her head is roughly pulled back to look up, and she meets Kylo’s dark, inscrutable gaze.

Rey shivers, staring up at him in terror. Two other men are working together to pick up the dead body. She should ask where Rose is. She should say something.

He releases her hair and Rey’s head slumps forward. Fingers snap and he gestures for her to get up, and she tries, but doesn’t move fast enough for him. Kylo yanks her to her feet by the forearm and keeps a firm grip on her as he leads her to the door.

It opens into a dark, narrow hallway. Rey can’t see to either end of it and she’s dragged along to the right, past a few rows of doors that give way to rooms concealed only by thin, torn blankets. She stumbles and tries peering into the rooms as she passes them and she glimpses bare human skin: feet, hands, a calf. Moans echo off the walls, female and male, mingling together in a way that makes her cheeks hot.

Kylo stops abruptly at a new door. He pulls Rey into a big bathroom with open showers and toilets and a row of old, crumbling sinks. The walls are the same flat cement gray as the rest of the building. It feels like an old locker room.

Rey is pushed by the small of her back towards the sink. She staggers forward, catching herself on the rim. The mirror is up above her eye level. She swallows and stares into the basin while Kylo opens a cabinet off to her left side. She should ask where Rose is. If she’s alive. If she isn’t alive, then there’s no need to fight back. Can’t go home to the Ticos without Rose.

“Is…” Rey swallows again, glancing to her left, but not fully looking at Kylo. “Is Rose… okay?”

The cabinet shuts. Kylo offers her a blue toothbrush still wrapped in plastic and a small tube of toothpaste. He doesn’t answer her question. Rey brushes her teeth anyway because she can’t stand the taste of vomit.

He takes the brush and toothpaste when she’s done and puts them in a plastic bag. He drops it on the sink and grabs Rey’s arm again.

“W-Wait,” she stammers. He looks at her and she shrinks a little under his penetrating gaze. “Can I shower? And use the bathroom?” She hesitates. “Please?”

No point in trying to be Rambo. Kylo has multiple guns, even if one is empty, and he clearly isn’t afraid to kill people. Plus, there must be lots of other men here, and pissing off the only one that’s showing her a sliver of kindness would be really stupid. He even shot someone for her—she thinks. Maybe there are orders she doesn’t know about. Maybe she and Rose are a set. This is a dungeon. Trafficking. It’s just like in Taken.

Anxiety and adrenaline are helping focus her thoughts. It’s a good thing, because she never wants to think about the way that bloody stump of a head looked ever again.

Kylo tilts his head. He doesn’t say anything but releases her arm and leaves the room. The door locks behind him.

Rey waits a few seconds before shuffling to the door and trying the handle. It doesn’t budge. She crosses her arms over her chest and shivers, then does a round through the bathroom to see if there are any other ways out. No windows. The floor and ceiling are cracked in a bunch of spots and the toilets are all welded firmly to the ground. No way out except through the door. She uses the toilet before Kylo returns.

He has clothes draped over one shoulder, a towel over the other, and a small bottle clasped in his enormous hand. He closes the door behind him and snaps his fingers.

Rey hesitantly approaches. Kylo offers her another travel-sized item: this time it’s shampoo, but she can’t read the name of it. She takes it and waits for the clothes, but he just stands there and stares at her. She stares back at him.

“Can I—”

“No.”

A tense moment passes. She would like some privacy, but apparently that isn’t going to happen. Still, she chews her lower lip and decides to ask again. Just in case. Maybe he didn’t understand.

Rey curls her hair behind her ear. “I just want to shower al—”

Kylo takes a sharp, threatening step toward her. She jerks away and hastily gets to peeling off her clothes without another word.

It’s awkward but the bathroom is dark enough that she hopes he can’t see much. He dismissively waves a hand when she tries handing each article of clothing to him, so she drops it all on the floor, turning a bit to hide her nakedness. It’s very awkward. Painfully awkward. It’s humiliating and it’s cold in here and she just wants to shower without being stared at.

Her eyes are filled with tears by the time she’s done getting undressed. The floor is rough and icy on her bare feet and she crosses her arms and avoids Kylo’s eyes. This is so f*cking embarrassing.

“Go,” he snaps. He snaps his fingers for good measure and waves her off.

Rey scurries to the showers across the room. She picks the one in the middle and spends a few seconds trying to figure out the handles, and it’s once again a few seconds too long for Kylo’s liking.

He huffs, stomping over to reach past her and turn on the water. It comes out cold and Rey takes a sharp breath and jumps a bit. He glances at her and she glances at him and his gaze wanders down from her eyes to her chest. His jaw works from side to side. He looks away and points at the left handle.

“Hot,” he says. He points at the other. “Cold.”

“Sorry,” Rey apologizes.

Kylo grunts. He turns up the hot water before withdrawing back a couple steps, arms crossed. His eyes roam along the ceiling.

Rey washes as best as she can with the shampoo. She scrubs her hair and cleans the rest of her body, and she feels somewhat better after. Kylo offers her the towel and she dries off and mutters a thank-you. She shouldn’t be thanking him for anything. He kidnapped her. He was going to shoot her.

But being rude to a guy with a gun seems like a bad idea. He obviously isn’t afraid to use said gun.

The clothes are not what Rey expected. They’re clearly his: black, bulky, and much too big for her. He watches her put on the long-sleeved shirt, which is somewhat fitted, but it drapes down to her thighs and the cuffs go a couple inches past the tips of her fingers. His jaw does that thing again where it shifts around and he clicks his teeth together, but his face stays blank and unreadable. It’s eerie. It feels angry.

He drapes the pants over his shoulder and roughly rolls back the sleeves to her wrists. Rey doesn’t resist, and when she puts on the pants and he adjusts the cuffs on them, she doesn’t resist, either. No underwear, unfortunately.

An unpleasant tingle runs down her spine. Why is he giving her his clothes? Is there a meaning behind that?

“Are—” Rey staggers as Kylo roughly pulls on her leg, still adjusting a cuff. She grabs his shoulder for support. “You’re not going to—is someone going to—?”

How does she ask if she’s going to be for sale? The question is getting stuck in her throat; it’s too horrible to think about a strange man buying her like livestock, and then getting bored of her one day, and then…

Kylo gets back to his feet. Rey swallows the hard lump in her throat but the tears run down her cheeks anyway. How could this happen? How could she let this happen? She should’ve called Mrs. Tico. She shouldn’t have come on this trip in the first place. It’s like bad luck follows her everywhere she goes.

Rough hands wipe the tears from her cheeks. Rey grasps Kylo’s wrists and twists her face away, and he seizes her by the jaw, big fingers digging into the soft flesh of her cheeks.

She sucks in a frightened breath, eyes wide, staring up at him. He searches her face and squeezes a little harder. He leans closer, and holds firm when Rey tries shrinking back. Her pulse thrums in her throat. She can see green flecks in his dark brown eyes, and she stares, and she waits.

He doesn’t speak. He lets go, giving her one last long look before he turns away, snapping his fingers at his side.

Rey follows, sniffling and wiping her eyes. No answers. No hope.

Chapter 4

Chapter Text

Kylo returns Rey to a different room, thankfully. There isn’t a bloody corpse or a pile of vomit, just another dirty mattress and barred window far too high for her to reach. The doorway is covered by a tattered flower-print blanket that doesn’t offer any privacy.

He pulls her in by her elbow and pauses. Rey waits, tense, as Kylo surveys the room.

He huffs, then pushes Rey down to the mattress and leaves without saying a word. She stares at the fluttering blanket, frozen for several minutes as his footsteps fade down the hallway. She could run. Or, she could try to run. Death might be better than whatever Kylo has in store for her.

But it’s a good thing she doesn’t try, because Kylo swiftly returns. He seizes her by the elbow and drags her back into the hallway.

They head the opposite direction of the bathroom. Kylo brings her up a flight of stairs and catches her when she trips over the hem of her enormous pants. The third time she trips, he snaps at her in German. He seems mad. He always seems mad.

“I’m sorry,” Rey blurts, “but it’s really—”

He leans over and sweeps her over his shoulder in one fluid motion. Rey squeals and kicks in surprise, grasping the back of his shirt for balance.

“—Jesus f*cking Christ!” she gasps.

Kylo continues up the stairs without missing a beat. Rey tries turning her head to get a feel for her surroundings, but she’s carried into a room too quickly for her to make anything out. It’s an old, rotting building. It could be anywhere. It could be anything. For all she knows, they could be in another country.

Rey is deposited in a metal chair. She looks around the new room, trembling: there are rows and rows of cabinets with glass windows, and inside those cabinets are rows and rows of vials and bottles. She’s sitting at a small plastic table. There’s a sink straight across from her that’s stained from rust. It… smells in here, like bleach and rot and rust. It turns her stomach. It smells like cleaned blood.

“You—you don’t have to kill me,” Rey says, gaze lingering on the rusty sink. Her eyes flicker to Kylo’s gun in his belt loop. He’s searching through a cabinet. “I’m not going to run away. If you just let me go, I won’t tell anyone about any of this.”

Kylo shuts the cabinet. He draws fluid into a needle, then opens a drawer and rummages around. Rey stares at his back. She glances at the door.

It opens. Rey guiltily tries to look away, but she can’t help watching the man and woman who enter.

The man is tall and blonde and pulling the woman along by her elbow. She stumbles as he drops her into the chair across from Rey: she’s very thin and her blonde hair is a tangled mess. She sways in her seat, hardly managing to lift her head, but trying to pull the strap of her blue dress up her shoulder. Her eyes are distant and watery.

Rey stares at her. The man nudges Kylo and says something, then laughs and claps him on the back. Kylo grunts in response.

He turns and seizes Rey by the arm. She struggles as he yanks down the collar of her shirt, exposing her shoulder—and after one wipe of her skin with a wet pad, he sticks her with the needle. Cold plunges into her flesh, and Rey can only watch.

She yanks away after it’s done. Kylo doesn’t stop her, and he turns to toss out the needle without a word. What did he inject her with? Is it something to kill her? Is it to sedate her so he can bring her somewhere else? Sell her?

“What was that?” Rey asks, struggling to keep her voice even. Her lower lip trembles and she glances at the other woman, now slumped against the wall. “What… what was that?”

The other man draws up his own needle. He and Kylo ignore Rey.

She’s dragged to a new room, leaving behind the strange man and woman. Rey peers over her shoulder while Kylo unlocks the door, and she squeaks in surprise as he pushes her inside. He’s rough. Really rough. It must come with the territory.

This room is… almost normal. It has a real bed with sheets and a window that isn’t fifteen feet above the floor, but there are still metal bars across the glass. There’s a dresser and a red rug and an alarm clock. It’s bare bones, like an extremely cheap hotel. It doesn’t look dirty at least, and it smells better than anywhere else in this awful place.

“Um…” Rey eyes the bed. “Is someone…? Are you going to make me…?”

The door slams shut behind her. She whirls around and finds, with mixed relief and dread, that Kylo is gone. Will he be back? Will he expect her to…

Rey crosses her arms, shivering. All the anxiety is making her sick to her stomach and she can’t afford to throw up again. She’s thirsty as it is, and who knows when she might get food or water. If she’ll get them. Realistically, those things will come at a price, and there’s only one way she can pay.

Hopefully Rose is okay. Hopefully she isn’t… in this kind of situation.

Tingles wind up the nape of Rey’s neck. She rubs at the spot and the tingles slither down her arms into her fingertips. She’s warm suddenly. Heavy.

Rey makes it to the bed. She sits on the edge of it, trembling, teeth chattering as the warmth and pressure creep across her skull, sinking into her brain. Maybe she’s dying. Maybe Kylo brought her here so he wouldn’t have to watch her die. Then again—he clearly doesn’t mind killing people.

Darkness presses in.

—•—

Rey wakes to the smell of food.

Her eyes peel open with enormous difficulty. The room spins and shimmers and she closes her eyes to fight the nausea creeping up in her stomach. She’s heavy. Hot. Her fingertips twitch on the comforter, but she can’t move her hands.

It takes a handful of minutes for her to get her bearings. She’s hungry and nauseous in equal measure, but the hunger wins out.

Rey sits up. She clutches her head as the room spins like a merry-go-round, colors blurring together. She rubs her eyes and groans. Jesus f*cking Christ. What did Kylo give her? It’s like her brain was dunked in syrup. It’s extremely unpleasant.

There’s a tray waiting on the beside table: a glass of water, a muffin, and a bowl of scrambled eggs. Rey briefly wonders if it might be poisoned. It could be. But Kylo doesn’t have issues injecting her with drugs and if he wanted to kill her that badly, he wouldn’t be so sneaky about it. He wouldn’t have any qualms with just shooting her in the head.

Rey starts with the eggs. She eats slowly, eyes fluttering shut mid-chew. Getting food in her stomach does help the nausea, though, so she eats everything on the tray and guzzles the cup of water. Hopefully Kylo brings her more. She’s really thirsty.

She gazes at the floor after she’s done, shoulders sagging. Is Rose eating? Is she okay? Does Mrs. Tico know they’re missing yet?

The door opens. Rey lifts her head as Kylo enters, and she notices he’s changed into jeans and a dress shirt. There’s a gold chain under his collar and, Rey notices for the first time, there are smudged black tattoos on his fingers. Surprising she didn’t see them when he had a gun pointed at her face.

“I’m still thirsty,” she mumbles.

Kylo picks up the empty tray. He beckons her, and when he turns, Rey doesn’t see a gun in his belt loop. Is he unarmed?

She gets up, swaying as she follows him out the door. Maybe he thinks she’s too drugged to run off. She is, probably—she’s dizzy and it’s hard to walk straight—but if they happen to be near a forest, she could get lost in the trees. Hide under a log.

It’s starting to feel hopeless. Rey shivers, arms crossed, staring at the back of Kylo’s head. What if he’s just getting her ready for someone? No amount of good behavior will get her out of that. He might not plan on killing her, but being sold into sex slavery is a much worse fate than death.

Kylo pauses to open a door. Rey’s heart begins to pound as she glances between him and the end of the hallway some ten feet away. The stairs are that way.

When the door opens, Rey bolts.

She slips past Kylo, swiftly turning the corner and running down the stairs. The tray clatters to the floor but she doesn’t stop to look back, just keeps racing down the next flight of stairs to the bottom floor. Blood roars in her ears as she comes off the last step, and she sways, catching herself on the wall. He isn’t far behind—but she sees daylight coming through the narrow windows on the enormous doors dead ahead.

Rey’s bare feet slap on the cold cement as she hurries headlong for the door. It has a bunch of locks and a big dead bolt, and her hands shake while she struggles to get them open. She swallows, head spinning, and checks over her shoulder for Kylo.

He’s there. He’s standing at the foot of the stairs, but he isn’t coming towards her.

“I would not do that if I were you,” he calls.

Now he speaks f*cking English. Panicked, Rey shoves open the heavy dead bolt and she hurls her entire body into the door. It groans, but grinds open.

She tastes fresh air: water and grass and sunlight. Rey stumbles and falls, panting, and scrambles quickly back to her feet. It’s dusk and she’s in a forest with thick undergrowth, but that’s okay, because she ran track, and she’s sure she can outrun Kylo. Rey hurries down the stairs and takes off across the muddy front lawn, brushing off the frantic pounding in her skull. She can do this. She can do this.

A sharp, high-pitched whistle comes from behind her. Rey ignores it, fighting the darkness ebbing in around the trees—

A mass of black and brown erupts from the bushes. Rey stops so fast that she falls back in the mud, stunned, ears ringing. She breathes heavily and squints at the menacing shape as it comes closer.

The mass consolidates into an enormous dog with a black collar. The breed escapes her, but it’s big with pointed ears and a mean face, and it has its lip curled, baring shiny white teeth. It growls as Rey gapes at it, shocked at first—then it snaps it’s teeth at her ankle and she scrambles back, collapsing again in the mud. It snaps and snaps and Rey can only take sharp, terrified breaths as she struggles to escape. It’s going to kill her. It’s going to rip her throat out.

“Here, Hilda.”

The dog suddenly stops. It gives Rey one last growl before trotting past her.

Rey hyperventilates as footsteps approach. She slowly looks up when Kylo walks around to stand in front of her, hands in his pockets. He co*cks his head and quietly watches her for a long, uncomfortable minute. How should she react? What should she say?

“I’m… I’m sorry,” she rasps. She lowers her gaze to his black belt, eyes fluttering. “I’m sorry. Please don’t—please don’t—”

In the blink of an eye, the cold barrel of a gun is pressed inside Rey’s mouth. She puts up her hands and breaks down into tears as Kylo co*cks the gun. It tastes like ash and steel and she’s terrified her sobbing will trigger a shot, but she can’t stop herself. She squeezes her eyes shut, delirious from fear.

Kylo stays that way for an eternity. He finally withdraws the gun with a line of Rey’s saliva, and she falls back on one palm, slumped over and sobbing.

“Helmut, foos,” Kylo calls.

Feet come splashing through the mud. Rey jerks back when she sees a black paw not a foot away from her, and she comes face-to-face with a dog just like Hilda. It has a red collar and squarer head, though, and it just sits and stares at Rey instead of attacking. She stares back at it—it must be Helmut, and it’s a boy—and the dog looks up at Kylo. Helmut looks back at Rey, but he watches Kylo from the corner of his eye.

Voices rise behind them. Kylo responds but Rey has no idea what he’s saying. Her eyes flutter and for a split second, she loses consciousness, head dropping.

Helmut whines. He looks up at Kylo again, shifting about. Kylo doesn’t acknowledge him, and the dog returns his attention to Rey. She should lie down. It’s inevitable now—she’s going to faint.

She collapses. Helmut barks and in her last fleeting seconds, Rey feels a warm tongue on her cheek.

Chapter 5

Chapter Text

Loud voices rouse Rey. She feels like sh*t.

She’s lying on a torn mattress in a cramped, musty room, apparently downgraded after her escape attempt. Her head pounds and her stomach turns and she groans as she rolls over on her back. She’s covered in mud. Didn’t make it very far, and now she’s even more miserable than before.

Rey tries to sit up—and she hears a soft, low growl.

One of Kylo’s dogs is in the room with her, sitting ramrod straight in the far corner, lip curled. It’s the smaller one, whatever its name was. Helga? Hela? She’s mostly shrouded in shadow but her eyes and teeth gleam, and Rey gets the message. She slowly lies back down and doesn’t move. Being mauled isn’t a good way to go out.

The arguing is in German so Rey can’t make any of it out. It reaches a fever pitch and the door bursts open.

Hux and Kylo come in together, with Hux leading the way. Rey’s eyes widen at the Glock in Hux’s hand, trailing it as he gestures with it while arguing with Kylo. What are they fighting about?

“The ransom will be sent with or without this one alive,” Hux snaps. He co*cks the gun. “A photo of her corpse will prompt Tico to act quickly.”

“These are wealthy American girls,” Kylo retorts, hand on his hip as he steps closer to Hux. “There will be outrage if one dies—the Americans will be whipped into a frenzy. Their government will pour all its resources into finding us. They will send CIA agents. They will engage Interpol. They will twist the arms of our local contacts until they break. They will—”

“She will be soon forgotten.”

“They will avenge their martyr. They always do.”

Hux glares at Kylo and Kylo glares back, unflinching. Rey watches them, digesting what she’s hearing about ransom and executions and Rose. They took Rose for ransom? Why?

Hux’s green eyes flicker to Rey. He clenches his jaw and disengages his gun. “Fine. What do you propose we do with the spare, then? She’s seen too much to be released, and she’s of no use to us.”

Kylo responds in German, and whatever he says makes Hux raise his eyebrows and smirk. He tucks his gun behind his back and turns his smirk on Rey. She doesn’t move a muscle. Helga is still watching. Hilda. Whatever her f*cking name is.

“Very well,” Hux says. He lifts a hand dismissively. “Do as you please. I came here for pleasure. I’ve already wasted countless hours arguing with the other spoiled f*cking brat and I am in desperate need of—”

“Rose?”

It comes out in a breath before Rey thinks about it. Hux’s smirk widens, and her heart sinks into her stomach.

“Where—where is she?” Rey whispers. She licks her lips and swallows. “Is she… is she okay?”

“She’s alive, if that’s what you’re getting at.” Hux tilts his head. “She isn’t of any use if she’s dead, though…” He puckers his lips. “I suppose she could be returned to her parents with a few pieces missing.”

Rey sits up, tears brimming in her eyes. Hilda growls but stays put.

“Please.” Rey sniffles and swallows again, trying to steady her voice. “Please don’t hurt her.”

“Oh, but I was looking forward to cutting off one of her pretty little fingers.” Hux sighs and rolls his eyes up toward the ceiling. “What to do, what to do?”

“You can do it to m-me instead.”

His eyes flicker back to Rey’s, lips pulling back to show his teeth in a beastly smile. She told Mrs. Tico she would keep Rose safe. She promised. After all they’ve done and sacrificed, she can’t go back home without Rose in pristine condition. She can’t.

Kylo seizes Hux by the arm. He huffs and swats Kylo’s hand away but is seized again, clearly harder, and their eyes meet. It seemed like they got along well before—but as Rey watches them glower at each other, she realizes that was a façade, too.

“For thirty million euros, I am sure they expect to receive the girl in one piece,” Kylo says.

“Yes, but not this girl. They don’t care about this one.” Hux shakes his head, laughing slightly. He looks at Rey. “My own little captive hasn’t bothered to ask about her—not even once.”

Rey’s brow furrows, searching Hux’s face for a hint of a lie. What? Of course Rose has asked.

Kylo drags Hux from the room. As the door opens, Rey glimpses Helmut’s massive head peering in. He looks at her and co*cks his head, and the door slams shut.

—•—

Kylo returns later to drag Rey to the bathroom for a shower. She stumbles along, still dizzy and nauseous from whatever he injected her with earlier in the day. Her eyes are heavy, and her head lolls to the side when Kylo pauses to open the bathroom door. So tired. She didn’t sleep with the dog staring at her.

The enormous crumbling bathroom is occupied in the very worst way: two couples having sex right out in the open. Loudly.

‘Couples’ is a bad term because it implies consent. One woman is bent over a cracked sink, upper body pooled inside it like she’s melting, and her eyes are almost closed. The other woman is on her knees against the shower wall and Rey quickly looks away as she chokes on the co*ck shoved in her mouth.

It doesn’t perturb Kylo. He hoses her down with icy cold water, clothes still on, and he dismisses her to the toilet after he’s satisfied. Teeth chattering, Rey shuffles into a stall. She stares into space and shivers and tries to imagine the sounds she’s hearing are something else. Anything else. A movie or a TV show.

The woman at the sink is still slumped over it when Rey emerges. The man that had been raping her is chatting with Kylo. Rey slowly washes her hands and stares at the woman. She’s breathing—barely.

Kylo takes Rey by the upper arm. He pulls her close to his side and she keeps staring at the woman in the sink. Where is she from? Where will she go? Is that how the future is going to look for Rey, too?

The man says something and laughs. Kylo’s fingers tighten and Rey’s lazy gaze wanders to his hand, then up at his face. Inscrutable. Blank. She isn’t sure what she’s expecting to—

She startles as the man pinches her cheek. He laughs again and teases her skin between his fingers, baring his shiny white teeth at her.

“Look at this,” he says in a thick French accent. “Such a pretty—”

Kylo punches him.

He’s a beefy guy, but he instantly crumples to the floor, grunting in surprise. Kylo flexes his fingers and gets an odd look in his eyes that reminds Rey of a big hawk on a nature show zeroing in on a rabbit. His lower eyelid twitches as the man crawls back and groans, clutching his bloody face. Kylo flexes his hand again, slowly curling his fingers back into a fist, and he descends on the man.

Rey can’t look away at first: Kylo seizes him by the collar and punches him, so hard that bones crunch and blood sprays—it’s terrifying and brutal and within a few strikes, there isn’t much face left. It happens fast and not fast enough and she realizes that Kylo is going to kill the man. She’s around someone who kills easily and without remorse.

This is wrong. This is murder. This isn’t a movie or a TV show. He’s really going to die.

“W-Wait—” Rey hastily grabs Kylo’s shoulder, emotions swimming back in a frenzy. He shrugs her off, but Rey tries again, pulling on his shoulder. “Stop! Stop!”

Kylo plants a hand on her stomach and roughly shoves her to the floor. Rey hits the concrete hard on her shoulder and she bites back a yelp.

It distracts Kylo for a second. His pale face is smattered with blood spray and he has the man by the collar, fist co*cked for another punch. He blinks, like he’s waking up from a dream, and his gaze roams back to the man. His head rests unnaturally off to the side. There’s nothing left of his face but a mangled pile of meaty flesh and flecks of white bone.

Kylo drops him. He thumps to the floor, lifeless.

Rey stares as Kylo gets to his feet, blood-coated hands hanging at his sides. He gazes at the body and doesn’t react when the other man approaches, speaking in hushed tones. It seems like a normal conversation at first, but the man’s voice raises when Kylo doesn’t respond.

Kylo pulls his gun from his back and shoots him in the head without a single glance.

Rey hyperventilates, clutching her injured shoulder. Jesus f*cking Christ—she needs to get out of here. She needs to get up and run and who cares if a few dogs eat her alive? No one is coming to save her, anyway. There’s no point in waiting around.

No one cares. No one cares.

Bare feet patter on the floor. Wincing, Rey just notices as the woman from the shower runs past her. Rey’s eyes widen and flicker to Kylo, but he already has the gun pointed, arm straight, dark eyes locked on.

“No—!” Rey shrieks.

A shot rings out. She flinches and cowers and Kylo snaps a curse. The bathroom door opens and he shoots again, and Rey hears a scream—but there isn’t a dull thump. She isn’t dead.

Kylo gets to his feet. Rey chokes on her sobs as he strides to the door and steps into the hallway, grasping the doorframe. He pauses, gun clenched in his hand, eyes narrowed. Sobbing echoes down the hall, and a hollow, metallic sound, like the woman is stumbling around. She hasn’t gotten far.

Rey shudders when the shot comes. Just one.

Kylo returns to the bathroom. His eyes are unfocused and blank as he shoots the woman in the sink in the back of the head. She slides to the floor in a lifeless tangle of limbs. Just like that. Dead and gone. Three people in five minutes.

It’s nauseating beyond comprehension. Rey clutches her shoulder and pants heavily, staring at the woman slumped underneath the sink. Her brow draws together and relaxes as she fights tears or vomit or some other bizarre emotion. He didn’t have to kill her. She wasn’t trying to run.

Kylo whistles. Hilda comes to his side like she’s a part of his shadow, and she sits and fixates her black eyes on Rey. Helmut emerges on his other side, shifting unsurely on his forelegs. He looks up at Kylo, but Kylo doesn’t look at him. He flips his gun to take it by the barrel, and he drops it on Rey’s stomach.

She breathes hard through her nose, throat constricting. It’s cold. Heavy. Still loaded.

Kylo pulls off his sweater over his head and tosses it aside. He’s working open his belt as he steps over Rey’s trembling legs, heading toward the showers. It’s a test. He’s testing her. She can’t grab the gun fast enough to kill him and the dogs. She probably couldn’t even kill one of the dogs.

Rey closes her eyes as the shower hisses on. She stays perfectly still while Kylo is gone, and he takes his time.

She can’t help any of these people. She can’t even help herself. If she wants to live long enough for people to come looking for her, Rey knows she has to stay calm and obedient. But that’s easier said than done. Watching people die in real life is… is…

The gun is plucked from her belly. Rey opens her eyes and sees Kylo looming over her, shirtless, skin shiny from the water. He tucks the gun behind his back. A silver cross hangs around his neck, resting low on his sternum, and Rey tries not to follow it with her eyes. He is very big.

She shivers. She feels weird. Numb, and heavy, and cold. Her teeth chatter behind her closed lips. Her shoulder hurts pretty bad.

Helmut whines. He gently nudges Rey’s sore arm and she can’t even bring herself to wince. Wow. Pretty breathtaking pain. And her arm feels weird, and her fingers are tingling. She hadn’t noticed it before. Maybe the adrenaline is wearing off.

Kylo studies her for a minute, hands on hips. Then he shoos the dogs away. He scoops Rey up and brings her upstairs to the bedroom—which, she guesses, is a silver lining to the day.

He sits her on the edge of the bed. Woozy, Rey clings to her arm and sways, shivering. Kylo pries her fingers from her arm and as her hand falls in her lap, she realizes her injured shoulder feels… low, in a way. She tries rolling it back and searing pain shoots up her neck. It isn’t moving. Why isn’t it moving?

“Oh god,” Rey croaks. Her breaths quicken, shallow and panicked. “It’s broken. It’s broken. I can’t… it won’t move.” She flexes her fingers, on the verge of tears again. “It’s broken, it’s—”

She tries looking and Kylo firmly but gently pushes her cheek away. He grasps her upper arm and takes her wrist, lifting her hand from her lap. Rey heaves dry sobs as he slowly guides her wrist up toward her upper arm, bending her elbow, and he gently draws back towards his stomach. He bends her wrist forward then, turning her forearm toward her stomach. It’s slow and uncomfortable, and as he cycles through the motions again, Rey’s temper flares.

“I already told you,” she snaps, near hysterical, “it’s f*cking—”

There’s a loud, startling pop, and the pain suddenly disappears. Rey jumps. Kylo presses her wrist to her chest.

“Hold,” he says.

She holds. The worst of the pain is gone, replaced by a dull, throbbing ache, and the tingling in her fingers has faded. Oh. Her shoulder was just dislocated.

Kylo returns with a white sheet that he’s tearing in her bare hands. He fashions it into a sling, looping it around Rey’s neck and adjusting over and over. She sits in silence.

“It feels better,” she ventures.

“The joint will be weak for some time.” Kylo steps back to examine his handiwork and walks off to the dresser. “Do not exert it excessively.”

Rey watches as he removes a black Henley from the dresser and pulls it on over his head. She wants to make a comment about him claiming not to speak English, since he clearly can—maybe even better than her. But she keeps quiet.

Kylo tosses her a clean green Henley and black sweatpants. He closes the drawer and goes to the door without a word.

“Thanks,” Rey blurts.

He pauses. She shouldn’t be thanking him. It’s crazy. It’s the delirium from the pain and shock and terror. But it’s too late to take it back, and he did fix her arm, and he did convince Hux not to kill her. He also kidnapped her.

Kylo half-glances back at her and opens the door. Hilda and Helmut are waiting outside, ears pricked. Rey stiffens at the sight of them.

Kylo snaps his fingers, gesturing back toward the room, and he murmurs ‘Helmut, blibe’. Helmut wags his tail and trots in, head bowed as he approaches Rey. He sits a few feet away and stares at her. Better than Hilda. He doesn’t look so much like he wants to rip her throat out.

The door closes and locks. Rey stares at it for a moment before glancing at Helmut again. He co*cks his head.

“…Could you turn around while I change?” she rasps.

His stubby tail wags faster and his tongue lolls from his mouth. That’s a no.

Chapter 6

Chapter Text

Going to sleep seems like a bad idea, but Kylo doesn’t come back for a long time, and Rey is exhausted. Terrified and in pain, but bone-tired; heavy and cold and maybe still reeling from watching people get shot and beaten to death. And narrowly escaping death herself. Again. It seems like that should be a once in a lifetime thing.

She dozes off on her back to avoid putting pressure on her sore arm. Helmut sits at the door and watches her.

A sharp prick in her upper arm wakes her up—sort of. It’s dark and Rey is delirious, shaking so hard her teeth chatter. Her eyes roll back and flutter shut as cold fluid seeps under her skin. She could try to scream, or beg, or ask questions, but she doesn’t have the energy to pretend any of that will make a difference.

Instead she lies there, boneless, a pincushion once more. She slips into a deeper sleep.

—•—

Rey wakes to a sweet-smelling breeze and the vague, distant sound of barking dogs.

Her eyes are impossibly heavy and her mouth feels glued shut. She groans, rolling her eyes back to force them open, turning over on her side and rubbing the weariness away with both hands. She’s in a bed. A real bed. The air smells sweet and earthy, like rain. It’s a dream. Once she opens her eyes, she’ll see nothing but concrete and a barred window and an enormous dog glaring at her from three feet away.

But she’s definitely not in that room anymore.

Rey frowns, looking around and propping herself up on her only elbow that works. She’s in a plain bedroom with a big open window, white curtains gently swaying in the breeze—and through the window she sees miles and miles of steep, endless green hills sloping down to a wide river. Small trees grow on the hills—or maybe they’re grapevines. Maybe this is a vineyard.

Her stomach sinks. She isn’t in Italy, is she? That would mean she’s really far away from Rose.

She sits all the way up in the white sheets. As she does, she feels cold pressure on her left ankle. Rey peers back at her leg and finds a thick metal manacle wrapped around her ankle, hooked to a thin chain. It disappears over the edge of the bed.

“sh*t,” Rey croaks. She swallows and lifts the chain in trembling fingers, and when she tugs, she pulls a fair amount of slack. “No, no, no. No.”

She manages to get out of bed. The chain rattles to the dark hardwood floor and Rey follows it all the way to an enormous metal ring protruding from the wall near the door. It looks freshly drilled, and when she pulls, it doesn’t budge. Her bum shoulder pulses with sympathy pains for the one she nearly dislocates with her pulling.

But the chain leaves her enough slack to open the door. So she does.

Rey steps into another sunny part of the house: a long, wide hallway, with a stained glass window directly to her left, too high up to reach, and an open curve at the other end where the stairs must be. There are two other doors, one very close, but the other is near the stairs.

She hurries down the hall, even though she knows it’s a lost cause. Rey makes it to the second door before the slack gives out, and she tries opening it. Might as well. Maybe she can find something. Maybe there’s a way out. Her window is high up, but she could jump out and risk a broken leg.

The door opens. Rey has enough slack to take two steps inside the room.

There’s a bed just like the one she woke up in in the middle of the room: and Kylo is asleep in it. He’s lying on his stomach with his face turned towards his own window, and his arms are looped under his pillow. His muscled bare back is very clearly on display, and Rey blinks in rude surprise. He’s sleeping?

She keeps staring as his arms move. Kylo turns his head to bury his face in his pillow, then he lifts his head and looks directly at Rey. His eyes are half-open.

Rey slams the door shut.

She stumbles back, bumping into the wall. The bed creaks from inside the room and she hurries back down the hall, but checks the other door, just in case. A bathroom, with a tub and a shower and a perfectly clean white mat. It looks like she has enough slack to use the bathroom, too.

Kylo’s bedroom door opens. Rey jumps, looking back his way like she did something wrong. He’s leaning out of the room, still bleary-eyed, black hair a ruffled mess. Still no shirt. He stares at Rey and she takes two small steps back. Where is she? Where is everyone?

“I…” Rey swallows. “Where am I?”

He doesn’t respond. He just stares, so Rey carefully backtracks all the way back to her own room.

She picks up the chain as well as she can with one hand, wrapping it around her forearm as she hurries to the window. But it stops short a foot away. She can reach out and brush the windowsill with her fingertips, but that’s all she can manage, even when she’s teetering on one foot with her arm outstretched.

Rey stares out the window. There’s a small town at the bottom of one hill, with a big white church and smatterings of houses with matching brown roofs. Maybe they could hear her scream.

Kylo whistles behind her. Rey turns just in time to panic when she hears nails clicking on the floor.

Hilda appears near Kylo’s hip. She sits and glares at Rey as he takes something off her collar—a key. It’s right where he knows she’ll never be able to get it.

Rey stays very still as he meanders up to her, then kneels to unlock her restraint. Hilda continues to glare at her from over his back. Rey averts her eyes. She’s definitely never getting that key.

But it’s a relief that she won’t be chained to the wall all day. She obediently follows Kylo from the bedroom, Hilda trailing behind her. It’s not worth making a break for it yet. She has to wait. Plan. Figure out where things are. She’s a hostage just like Rose, but they don’t have any interest in keeping her alive for very long.

Kylo sits Rey down at a worn wooden table with intricate flower designs carved into the legs. Hilda sits a few feet away and he goes to the kitchen, which looks like something out of a storybook. It’s a weird mix of modern stainless steel and very detailed antique pieces that look like they cost a fortune. And Kylo is a bit out of place. He towers over everything. It’s like he’s in a dollhouse.

“Where am I?” Rey tries again. “Did we… did we leave Germany?”

No response. Kylo carries on.

He brings her a small plate with two bread rolls smeared with what she thinks is raw meat. Raw onions are sprinkled on top and Rey raises her eyebrows as he places a glass of water next to her plate. It can’t be raw meat. That’s not healthy, right?

Helmut emerges from another doorway and wags his tail when he sees Rey. He sits next to her as Kylo sits across from her with his own raw meat rolls, and Rey raises her eyebrows even higher when he takes a bite. Did he forget to cook it? Maybe he’s still half asleep.

“Um…” Rey starts. Kylo’s dark eyes flicker to hers. “Could I… cook mine?”

“It is Mettbrötchen. Pork.”

Rey gives him a helpless look with an embarrassed shrug. No clue what that word means. He rolls his eyes and nudges the plate towards her.

She glances at Helmut. He tilts his head, tongue lolling from his mouth. Kylo will probably be pretty mad if she gives her food to the dog. And if he’s eating it, she’s sure it won’t make her sick.

It seems like Kylo waits for her to take a bite before he gets up. Rey frowns at the texture, but it’s not bad—after two bites, she thinks it’s actually pretty good. Kylo takes her plate when she’s finished and Rey stays in her chair while he washes the dishes. Hopefully Rose is eating well.

Hux was just trying to upset her with all the stupid sh*t he said the other day. Rey is positive Rose is wondering about her, too.

She picks at the crumbling edge of a grapevine carving, gazing blankly at it. Positive.

“What do you want from Rose’s family?” Rey asks, searching for a distraction. Once again, she encounters silence. She glances at Kylo and at least sees his jaw is clenched. Good. “They don’t have that kind of money. They’re wealthy, but they don’t have thirty million dol—euros lying around. So what are you going to do when they can’t pay?”

Kylo dries his hands on a towel and hangs it over the oven handle. Rey’s gaze wanders to the kitchen doorway. Hilda isn’t paying attention, but she’ll come back to attention pretty quickly. And Rey has no idea where to run to.

“Helen Tico can pay thirty million euros,” Kylo says.

“I’m telling you, they don’t have that kind of money. I grew up with Rose.”

“Helen Tico can pay.”

“What if she can’t?”

“I have been in business with her for over a decade. She has many lines of business. She can pay.”

Rey frowns. In… business? With Mrs. Tico? That can’t be true. That isn’t true. Kylo is lying just like Hux did. They lied so easily to her and Rose before. She has no reason to believe he’s stopped or will ever stop lying.

“Whatever.” Rey shrugs, unnerved. “It doesn’t matter. I’m sure they already called the cops.”

Kylo doesn’t respond. He leaves the kitchen with Hilda trailing behind him.

Rey waits a bit before getting up. She pads out to the living room, another eclectic mix of modern and antique, lined with bookshelves filled to the brim with neatly organized books. She checks near the fireplace for a poker and doesn’t find one, so she continues on to the front door. Helmut follows.

Kylo is nowhere to be seen. Rey sweeps the first floor once, then returns to the front door and gingerly pulls it open.

She’s greeted by an endless sea of grapevines. They go on for ages it seems, all rowed evenly, all tall and twisted like a picture from a book. Rey peers over her shoulder and takes a step out onto the small porch. She squints and shields her eyes with one hand. It drops off suddenly a ways away, but she’ll roll down the hill if she has to. Even with her bum shoulder.

Helmut whines softly behind her as she walks down the steps. The sun is sinking and the vines cast long, ominous shadows sprinkled with warm sunlight, swaying in the quiet, gentle breeze. Rey walks toward them, again checking over her shoulder. She smiles as she faces forward. That was easy.

Far off in the distance, an enormous black dog steps into her path. Rey stops.

A cold sweat breaks out on her palms as the dog stares in her direction. It’s too far away to make out it’s facial expression, but just seeing it makes her blood curdle in her veins. Rey swallows the frantic fluttering in her throat and takes a small step back—and from the corner of her eye, she spies another dog off to her left. It’s a little closer than the other one. Staring.

Helmut nudges her hand. She scratches his head with trembling fingers, glancing between the two dogs as she continues walking slowly backwards. They don’t move. They stare at her until she walks back into the house and closes the door.

Rey sits heavily on the arm of the beige couch, heart still pounding in her chest. Helmut sits in front of her and rests his big head against her knee, and she stares at him, ice tingling down her spine. How many of these dogs does Kylo have? Do they all patrol the vineyard? Will they… kill her?

She isn’t going anywhere until she finds the answers to those questions. Nothing could be worse than being torn apart by a dog.

Chapter 7

Chapter Text

Kylo disappears with no explanation. Rey wanders through the small house and finds a few locked doors and no way to escape—unless she wants to risk the Dobermans ripping her to shreds.

Helmut follows a step behind her all the way. He watches quietly, like he’s going to make a report to Kylo whenever he turns up again. Maybe he has a camera in his collar. That’s a creepy thought, but it wouldn’t be surprising. Kylo clearly doesn’t leave many things to chance. He even has the length of the chain in the bedroom perfectly calculated.

Rey arches on her tiptoes to peer through the window over the kitchen sink. Darkness blankets the endless sea of vines, and she can’t make much out besides a small, distant building, and it’s too far to be worth wondering about. She’ll never reach it with the hellhounds on patrol.

They must have to go inside some time. They must need to eat and sleep. Maybe if she leaves in the middle of the night—

The front door opens behind Rey. She spins around with a guilty pit in her stomach as Kylo strides into the kitchen with Hilda behind him.

He gets a glass and opens the refrigerator without saying a word to Rey. She waits and watches, trying to think of something to say that isn’t a question about if he’ll ever let her leave and how Rose is doing, and also, he and Hux do not know Mrs. Tico very well.

“You have a lot of dogs,” Rey tries. It doesn’t get a response, so she tries again while he’s drinking juice. “Are they all Dobermans?”

“Yes.”

“No German shepherds, huh?”

“Dobermans are the superior dog,” Kylo replies tersely, like he’s telling her something obvious.

“I like corgis. They seem cute.”

Kylo scoffs and shakes his head. It’s something, at least. Rey really doesn’t want to be chained to the wall again, even if it means making nice with her kidnapper.

“Do you breed your dogs?” Rey asks.

“Yes.”

“What do you do with the puppies? Do you keep any?”

“They are sold as guard dogs or retained for later breeding.”

Rey glances at Hilda sitting by the kitchen door. Yeah, she’s definitely a guard dog—but when Rey looks at Helmut sitting a foot away from her, he wags his tail. He’s not such a good guard dog.

Rey crosses her good arm across her middle, peeling her gaze from Helmut. Kylo is busy washing his glass.

“Does someone take care of them when you’re gone?” she asks.

“No. There is food in the kennel, and they are free to roam the property.” Kylo shakes out the glass and sets it aside to dry. “They will kill trespassers.”

“Oh. Great. That’s great.” Great. Very good. Rey nods, pretending not to be scared sh*tless. “That’s great.”

Kylo dries his hands on a towel and doesn’t say anything more. He looks through the window over the sink, then glances at Rey, eyeing her while he wipes his hands. His gaze wanders down her body. That doesn’t give her a good feeling. He definitely didn’t bring her here for the fun of it, and he’s already shown how brutal he can be—but she’s holding out hope that if she complies, she can maybe make him think twice about… forcing her into things.

But Rey isn’t sure if Kylo can feel guilty. He didn’t shoot her, though, so there has to be something there.

She tries to keep talking so he doesn’t have a chance to consider what she’s sure he’s thinking. “Has, um… has Missus Tico said anything yet?”

“No.” Kylo returns the towel to the oven handle.

“Oh. Well, like I said, she doesn’t have that kind of money.”

“She has funneled many girls into our operation.”

Rey laughs. “Your operation?” she echoes.

“Yes.”

“What exactly is your operation?”

“Selling girls.”

He says it very matter-of-factly, like he’s telling her the weather outside. It makes Rey hesitate, and Kylo casts her a blank, unblinking stare. Mrs. Tico wouldn’t… where would she even find…?

“But…” Rey shakes her head. “You said American girls are more likely to raise questions.”

“She funnels immigrants to us. Easier to control. Buyers do not want an American girl giving them constant…” Kylo pauses, searching for the word. “Back-talk.”

“Missus Tico doesn’t do that. That’s—”

“She also assists with moving other product through German customs: heroin, cocaine.” Kylo shrugs and adjusts the towel on the oven handle. “Things of that nature.”

“Shut up,” Rey snaps. He raises his eyebrows and she knows she should rein herself in, but what he’s saying just doesn’t make any f*cking sense. “The Ticos are good people. Shut up.”

“Good people?”

“Yes.”

Kylo sets one hand on his hip, tilting his head. Hilda stirs near the doorway to the living room.

“You do not understand, then?” he asks. Rey glares instead of answering, and he clicks his tongue in a condescending way. “I think you do, little one. But you do not want to admit it to yourself.”

“Shut up.”

“Helen has brainwashed you very thoroughly to protect her brat—even if it costs you your life.”

Rey slaps Kylo across the face.

Hilda snarls and charges for her, but Kylo whistles sharply and she comes to a skidding stop. Rey glowers as Kylo rolls his tongue inside his cheek.

“You do understand, then,” he says.

She moves to slap him again, but he catches her wrist, and it throws Rey just enough off balance. She hops back two steps and pulls angrily against Kylo’s grasp, but he holds her firm.

“Let… go!” she hisses.

“As I said—” He gives a sharp tug, bringing her in close. Rey meets his dark eyes and struggles to glare into them. “American girls are a hassle.”

Kylo lets go. She rips her wrist away and collapses against the island as he passes behind her and out through the kitchen doorway. Hilda follows, but Helmut remains behind and watches Rey with his big head tilted. Rey huffs and pushes her hair out of her face. She hasn’t even begun to show him what a f*cking hassle she can be—

She swallows and clenches her jaw. And maybe she shouldn’t. Being here is better than meeting the fate as the women in the compound. If she’s too much of a hassle, Kylo might decide to get rid of her.

He peers back into the kitchen, eyebrows raised. When Rey doesn’t come, he snaps his fingers.

She follows Kylo upstairs. He corrals her to the bathroom with a warning to be careful with her arm, then he walks off down the hallway again. Rey finds clean clothes waiting for her on the counter: a huge black long-sleeved shirt that buttons up the front, and equally oversized sweatpants. They’ll both be falling off her, just like what she’s wearing now.

But at least she has clean clothes and can take a shower. She doesn’t want to lose either of those privileges, or go back to that awful place in the woods.

Rey gingerly frees her arm from its sling. She showers one-handed with the shampoo and body wash available to her, both of which smell very much like Old Spice. There’s face wash, too, and she finds lotion and a surprising amount of hair products in the cabinet. All good things. She feels truly clean for the first time in a long time.

She dries her hair a bit with a dryer before going back out into the hallway. Kylo is waiting, and he leads her into the bedroom, where the chain is lying on the floor. It makes her palms sweat.

“I’m not going to go anywhere,” Rey tries as he picks it up. She shakes her head, clutching her bum arm, and takes a small step back when he approaches. “I mean, I can’t even get out through the window, and—”

Kylo snaps his fingers. She hesitates, considering the ramifications of running for her life right this second. How far could she get? Maybe the dogs are all asleep. Maybe she just has to outrun him.

But Rey obediently shuffles closer. Kylo kneels and latches the cuff around her ankle, and she grabs his shoulder when the weight of it surprises her.

He adjusts her pantleg around the cuff. “Tomorrow we will go to town. You will be quiet and polite.” Kylo looks up at her and Rey’s heart skips a beat. “Difficult for an American girl, I am sure.”

She gives him an unfriendly smile.

He gets to his feet and remakes her shirt scrap sling. It’s a relief, honestly. Rey mutters a thank you, which Kylo doesn’t respond to. He checks her closet and pulls on the window bars, then he heads for the door. That’s good. Not like she wants him hanging around.

“Do the—?” Rey turns mid-sentence, and Kylo pauses at the door. “Do they know… what you do?”

“No.” He grasps the door handle and gives her a pointed stare. “And it will remain that way.” He waits until Rey nods hastily before he closes the door.

She stays standing in the middle of the room for a while, staring through the darkness at the tempting window.

She’ll never reach it. Even if she does, she can’t rip out iron bars.

Chapter 8

Chapter Text

Kylo wakes up early and also wakes Rey up early, just as the sun is rising. She isn’t in a terrible mood, though. She even forgets the chain around her ankle until she stretches her leg out and feels the heavy weight of it.

But it’s not that bad, really, she thinks as she sits up in bed, rubbing her eyes with her only free hand. She could be sleeping on a dirty mattress.

Rey is fed some kind of porridge that’s impossible to choke down. Kylo gives her a look that suggests she needs to try her damndest, so she does, secretly feeding some to Helmut when Kylo turns his back. Don’t they have Cheerios here? McDonald’s? Regular processed food?

It’s so deceptively peaceful and domestic that Rey is just about able to forget the past few days. It all seems far away, like she saw it in a movie and is confusing it with real life. Kylo is ornery, but he’s been… nice. He’s even letting her walk around town, and kidnappers don’t usually do that sort of thing.

Maybe he’ll let her go home. Maybe if she’s obedient and nice to him in return, he’ll feel bad and let her go.

Kylo brings Rey upstairs to her bedroom and offers her a dress. It’s blue, sleeveless and simple, and he looks at her for approval as he drapes it over the edge of the bed.

“It should fit,” she says. She thinks of asking who it belonged to, but she doesn’t want to know. Can’t bear to know. Needs to be obedient. “Thanks.”

Kylo nods. He stares at her, and Rey realizes he’s not going to leave while she gets changed. Hilda is also watching from the door with Helmut beside her. There’s a full viewing party.

“Could I…?” She gathers up the dress. “Change in the bathroom, maybe?”

“No.”

It’s his usual firm, indisputable no.

Rey nods and places the dress back on the bed. She faces the wall as she unbuttons her shirt—his shirt—but she feels Kylo’s eyes on her. It only takes a minute of struggling before she hears footsteps rapidly approach from behind her.

Kylo roughly turns her around. He unties her sling and Rey winces as her arm lets down. Kylo moves quickly through the buttons and slips one arm free, then gently slides the shirt from her injured side. He crouches to pull off her sweatpants and discards the clothes on the bed.

It doesn’t matter, really. He’s already seen her naked. But she’s concerned—now that they’re truly alone—that he might do something. That he’s been waiting and dragging it out and just wanted privacy, and now he has it.

But Rey steps into the dress without incident, clutching Kylo’s shoulder. He fixes her sling and brings her flats. He doesn’t linger or touch. He never has. Maybe he’s not interested in women.

The sun is up over the horizon, spilling pink and orange light through the rows of vines. She waits on the porch for Kylo to finish locking the door, her eyes peeled for dogs. Maybe she didn’t see any yesterday. There aren’t any out right now, save for Helmut and Hilda.

Kylo whistles and they sit at the last step on the porch. He says a command in German and they break apart, wandering off around the back of the house. He walks down the steps and Rey hesitates before she follows. The dogs don’t trot along behind them.

“They’re not coming?” she asks.

“No.”

He leads her through the vines to a Mercedes parked in a shrouded wooded area at the edge of the forest. Rey tries to take in what she can: this would probably be her way out if she ever tries to run. But it would expose her to whatever dogs are patrolling the property, and if she can’t get into the car…

Kylo whistles. She blinks, and sees he has the passenger door open.

It’s a steep, tedious drive down the mountain. Rey suspects he wants her to see that—the road is narrow and bumpy and she already doesn’t know how to drive, so it wouldn’t be easy to navigate. She sits quietly in her seat and plays with her hands dappled in sunlight and shade. At least there’s a road to follow.

It lets out to another unpaved dirt road. That leads directly into the town, which does have paved roads, and Rey sits up straighter in her seat, clutching the door. People mill around on the sidewalks with shopping bags, and some are eating in outdoor cafes. There are more than she expected. Safety comes in numbers.

Kylo parks down an alley alongside a row of other cars. He takes off his seatbelt but grabs Rey’s wrist when she moves to take off her own.

“Do not say a word,” he warns. He raises his eyebrows. “Or your friend will be punished.”

Rey swallows. She nods, and Kylo releases her. He unbuckles her seatbelt.

The town is bustling with activity: shoppers and cafes and kids running around chasing each other. Rey does her best to meet Kylo’s long strides, and as instructed, she doesn’t say a word when people stop him and they chat in German.

They’re friendly. Rey watches their conversations and smiles when she’s gestured to, and Kylo repeats a similar phrase with each person he speaks to: sueshish crank, which Rey can’t even begin to try to translate. But she notices sympathetic glances after he says it. She files it away to ask about later on.

The town is cute. It’s the kind of place Rey was hoping to visit—with Rose.

Kylo brings Rey to a café for lunch, where they have two very normal sandwiches without uncooked meat. Rey looks at the sunny street while she chews. If she runs, she could probably get lost in the crowd. Hilda isn’t around to stop her. Maybe she can disappear before Kylo can even begin to think of chasing her.

But that means Rose will end up suffering the consequences. Rey’s hands shake as she politely sips her ice water. All these people, and not one can help her.

“I don’t have any clothes,” Rey says, still watching the people milling around. She sets down her glass and glances at Kylo. “Can I have more?”

He doesn’t answer, per usual. He’s smoking a cigarette, disinterested in Rey and everyone else. What is she supposed to do, wear his oversized clothes all the time? What if she needs to go out? People will be suspicious if she’s inside all the time.

But they don’t make any more stops. Kylo speaks to the owner of the café and they have a hushed conversation, during which Kylo gestures to Rey and repeats the German phrase she can’t parse out. After that, they head back to the car, and Rey obediently slides into the passenger seat. Kylo shuts her door.

Without thinking, she opens it.

Rey gets out. She stands there, clutching the edge of the door, heart pounding in her ears. The alley runs straight and narrow to the main square. She could make it.

“Your friend does not need to be returned with her fingernails still attached.”

A chill creeps down Rey’s nape. She glances over her shoulder at Kylo, leaning casually on his door, staring at her. He raises his eyebrows.

Rey swallows. She gets back into the car, tears in her eyes, and she slams the door shut.

Kylo drives them back up the mountain. Rey keeps her mouth shut and glares out the window, struggling not to cry. Maybe the worst part is not knowing. She doesn’t know what he wants or what will end up happening to her if the Ticos pay the ransom.

She’s not included in that price. What if they never let her go back home?

Rey gets out when Kylo opens the door for her. He closes it, and the sound echoes through the trees, snuffed out into a muffled breeze. She crosses her good arm over her chest and doesn’t follow when he walks several steps toward the path to the house. The dogs aren’t around. Yet.

“Will you send me back, too?” Rey asks. Kylo turns to regard her, blank-faced. “If the Ticos pay the ransom—will I go back home, too?”

“…Yes.”

“What if they never pay it? What happens to me and Rose?”

“Helen Tico will pay,” Kylo says.

“But what if she doesn’t? What happens to us?” Rey swallows when her voice rasps. “Will I stay here forever? Will I ever see Rose again?”

Kylo stares at her, hands in his pockets. Rey’s pulse beats faster and faster and she presses her quivering lips together. If she just turns and runs—

“You will regret it,” Kylo says.

She will. She won’t escape. But it’s a nice thought. And she stands there, staring at him, chin trembling. She has to do what he says. She can’t risk Rose getting hurt. It’s not even that bad here: she has clean clothes, a bedroom, food. All she has to do is wait.

“If you just let me go—” Rey shakes her head, voice wavering. “I won’t tell anyone—”

“Do not beg. It is tiresome.”

“I’m not begging!” Rey hisses. “I’m… I’m bargaining.”

Kylo tilts his head, eyebrows raised. “You are begging. You are always begging, and wheedling, and whining.” He turns away. “You will regret it if you run. I will send Hilda after you, and this time I will not stop her from tearing off your arm.”

Rey balls her fists. She bites back her tears and hurries after Kylo. Another failed negotiation.

They arrive at the cottage, and a short whistle brings Hilda and Helmut running. At least four other Dobermans come behind them, each with its own collar, but Hilda and Helmut are unmistakable. Rey sticks close behind Kylo as the dogs wander up behind her, caging her in. Their eyes are beady black and intense, like they can sense how badly she wants to run.

Kylo beckons her up the porch steps. Rey gratefully and swiftly follows.

He herds her up the stairs once inside, and Rey realizes he’s going to chain her up for the rest of the day. She balks, nearly tripping backwards and tumbling down the stairs. Kylo pauses two steps behind her.

“I could—” Come on, come on; she can make herself useful somewhere. “I could clean, if you want? Or make dinner?” Kylo gives her an unimpressed, bored look, and Rey hurries through other options. “I could help feed the dogs?”

Luckily, that gets his attention. She could do that. Put down some kibble? Sure.

Kylo drums his fingers on the banister, studying her. “If you try to run, they will attack.”

“Yes, I won’t go anywhere. I’m not going to.”

“Mm.”

He turns and walks back down the stairs. Rey hustles after him.

The dog kennel is a big building set back near the woods. There are flaps on either side and a door in the front, and as they approach, two dogs emerge from the flaps on either side. They watch Rey as Kylo unlocks the door.

It’s big inside, too: there are a dozen separate runs, each with a metal gate and a flap door that leads outside. They’re clean—scrupulously clean—and each has two fluffy dog beds and a dripping system to a water bowl with an agitator. Food comes from the ceiling on the opposite side. Timed, maybe.

Torn toys are scattered throughout the runs. Rey stares at a sheep with its head ripped off as Kylo stops before a ladder.

“The feeder is in the attic,” he says. He pulls the ladder into place. “It is refilled and cleaned once per week. Water runs directly from the pipes. It is cleaned once per week.”

“And they just wander around on their own while you’re gone?”

“Yes. Rex maintains the pack.”

Rey nods. Good. Another terrifying dog for her to meet.

She offers to climb the ladder and clean the feeder, but Kylo only gives her an incredulous eyebrow raise and goes up himself. She waits at the base of the ladder, and slowly but surely, dogs trickle it to stare at her.

No big deal, Rey tells herself. She smiles at them. If they see her as a friend, maybe they won’t attack if she tries to run away.

Kylo returns from the attic and whistles to scatter the dogs. An old one with a gray muzzle shuffles up to him, and Kylo pats his head before he carries on, shuffling into a kennel. He lays down with a big huff. Must be Rex. Looks like he’s pretty old.

“Are there any puppies?” Rey asks as she’s led from the kennel. Trying to kill time. “Or plans for any?”

“I do not have time.” Kylo gives her a pointed look while he locks the door.

“I can help. I love dogs—I can play with them and take care of them while you’re gone.”

“They are guard animals, not pets.”

“But… but don’t puppies usually play to learn how to behave?”

Kylo clenches his jaw. He doesn’t answer, and Rey once again rushes after his long strides toward the house. It could be fun having puppies around. It would be a nice distraction, and she really does love dogs.

But she doesn’t push the issue. Kylo feeds her a sandwich for dinner, and she keeps her complaints to herself when he chains her up again.

She’s sitting on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the heavy manacle around her ankle. Kylo’s footsteps amble to the door, and Rey just sits there, silent and bereft. She wants to go home. She misses home. She should be getting ready for college, but—

“Bella may be ready.”

Rey slowly lifts her gaze to Kylo. He has a hand on the door handle, and he’s staring at her.

“I have been seeking to breed her to Helmut for some time,” Kylo continues. “If she is ready, I will proceed.” He starts to leave, then stops. “Gestation is roughly sixty days. It will be some time before she whelps.”

“Okay.” Rey plays with her fingers and nods. “Thanks.”

Kylo nods stiffly in return. He toys with the door handle for another minute, then he leaves, closing the door sharply behind him.

Chapter 9

Chapter Text

It rains that night. Rey sleeps better than usual, right through early morning and maybe through breakfast. She sleeps and sleeps, and when she finally wakes, Kylo is standing at her beside staring at her.

She blinks up at him. She’s tangled in the sheets and the chain, pajama top askew, bottoms bunched up near her knees. Kylo stares into her eyes until she feels embarrassed. Doesn’t he know it’s creepy when he does that? Maybe he just doesn’t care.

“It is done,” he says simply.

“Wh… what?”

“Bella. It is done.” Kylo doesn’t blink. “She has been bred to Helmut.”

“Oh.” Rey nods slowly, still groggy from just waking up, and even more embarrassed thinking about dogs breeding. “Okay.”

“I have business in Vienna next week. You will come.”

Rey sits up. Vienna… Austria? How is he going to move her across a border? Aren’t people looking for her?

“Okay,” she replies.

“We will travel by plane.” Kylo raises his eyebrows. “You will behave.”

“Right. Right.”

“If you do not, I will remove Rose Tico’s fingernails. Do you understand?”

Rey swallows the lump in her throat and nods. Kylo nods in return. His gaze wanders down from her face to her legs, and his Adam’s apple bobs. He gives her another short nod and turns to leave the room.

Rey scrambles out of bed. “Wait—how long are we going? What are you doing there?”

“One week. Negotiating.”

“With the Ticos?”

Kylo pauses at the door. He looks back at Rey and shakes his head, and it’s like her heart falls through her stomach. Oh. Well, maybe they’re still getting the money together for the ransom. She probably won’t be brought to that, anyway. Wouldn’t make sense.

Rey is left alone, and she shuffles to the bathroom to shower and get dressed. There are new clothes folded on the counter: a long-sleeved gray shirt that buttons down the front, which is obviously Kylo’s, but there are black leggings that are obviously not—and clean white panties. But still no bra. Almost normal clothes. Really, with the right accessories, the shirt wouldn’t look that bad.

She’s able to untie the sling and showers with the ankle cuff still attached, but when she gets to the part that involves dressing herself, she stops short. Her arm feels weak and her fingers tingle. She’ll need help getting the leggings on and getting the sling tied again. Unfortunately.

Rey pops the bathroom door open. She’s wrapped in a towel, clutching it to her chest with one hand as she leans on her tiptoes to look down the hallway.

“Kylo?” she calls. The bedroom door near the stairs opens. Kylo comes to her in three short strides, and Rey smiles feebly as she gestures to herself. “Sorry, but do you think you could help me?”

He nods. Rey ambles back into the bathroom to get the clothes, and to her surprise, he follows her and closes the door. No dog audience today.

“I can’t get the shirt on,” Rey says, trying to be conversational so she feels less uncomfortable. She turns. “If you could… just…”

Kylo is standing directly in front of her. He’s not even a foot away, so close that she can feel the warmth of his body and see the flecks of green in his eyes. Rey presses back against the counter and instinctively places a hand on his chest when he takes a step even closer.

It doesn’t stop him. He kisses the corner of her mouth, once, light and tentative.

Rey hesitates, avoiding his eyes, even though she feels his gaze intent upon her face. She’s not sure what to do. She may be on borrowed time with slapping him the other day, and if she says no and he keeps going anyway—she’s not sure how she’s going to live with that. And it feels like he’s looking for permission. Maybe she can just…

“Um…” Rey swallows as Kylo grasps her jaw in one hand, guiding her lips to his. “I, um…”

He kisses her. She blinks, recoiling, but he holds her firm, deepening the kiss. It’s not nearly as rough as she expected. Rey kisses him back as his hand slips down to her throat, encircling it entirely, squeezing. She lets go of the towel to brace her shaky, tingling hand against his chest with the first, and he squeezes her throat tighter, so tight that it makes black sparkles dance under her eyelids. Her ears ring.

Kylo releases. Rey gasps, and he kisses a trail down her throat, fingers skimming across her stomach. She clutches his shirt as his touch meanders between her legs. She jerks away, rattling the cupboards as he traces a delicate line along her slit. Kylo gently, absentmindedly shushes her, pausing his nibbling on her neck to do so. One long, thick finger presses lower and deeper.

Rey startles again. It pushes inside her, sinking in before she can breathe out her shocked, anxious breath.

Kylo slowly pumps his finger. To her horror, her body reacts to his touch, hips twitching when he strokes a certain spot inside her. Rey ignores the pain radiating down her shoulder as she balls her fists on Kylo’s shirt, and she whimpers as she gets close, shaking her head, squirming to escape. This can’t be happening. This isn’t supposed to happen. She presses her bare foot down on Kylo’s smooth, cold shoe, and the chain around her ankle clinks along the floor. Rey’s eyes flutter, breaths quickening. Kylo hungrily rolls her skin through his teeth, and she knows he’s leaving marks—

She moans when she comes. It clenches in her belly and she shudders, rocking against his hand, trembling and twitching.

There isn’t a warm, sleepy afterglow. Nausea comes instead, and a violet pulse of humiliation and shame. Tears well up in Rey’s eyes as Kylo gently kisses her neck, finger still buried inside her. No one has ever been around when she’s done… that.

Rey stiffens as Kylo pushes a second finger inside her. She squeezes her eyes shut and can’t help shaking her head when he starts gently pumping inside her again.

“Stop,” she rasps. “S-Stop—”

But he doesn’t. He keeps going until she comes again, painfully, like it’s ripped out of her. She’s too stunned to even cry, but she struggles against Kylo, repulsed and mortified. He doesn’t need to work very hard to keep her in place. His fingers withdraw from her body, sliding up her stomach, and he blocks her from escaping by grasping the counter with his other hand.

It strikes Rey that he’s probably done this before. She’s probably another woman in a long line of women that he’s forced himself upon.

“Get away from me,” Rey breathes. Her chain rattles as she pushes her foot against his shin. “Get away from me!”

Kylo seizes her by the throat. Rey instantly grapples with his wrist with both of her hands, rasping, eyes going wide. He glares into her eyes and ignores her nails digging into his fingers. She can’t even think of being obedient. He’s going to f*cking rape her.

His jaw shifts from side to side. He shoves her back, and Rey gasps and catches herself on the edge of the counter. Kylo slams the bathroom door behind himself.

Rey waits on pins and needles for him to come back. She manages to dry her hair and get her underwear and the shirt on, but it’s too difficult to move her fingers when she gets to the leggings. She shakes the entire time, on the verge of tears, pain radiating up her thighs. It was going so well. She was doing everything he wanted.

She’s still chained to the bedroom wall. Helpless. If Kylo decides to come back…

Rey limps back to the bedroom. Her arm stings from her neck down to her fingertips, and try as she might, she can’t get it back in the sling. She gives up after a while and decides to cry instead.

—•—

Kylo doesn’t return for the rest of the day. Rey can only make it to the very end of the hallway, so she drinks water from the sink and waits for him with her arm propped up on a pillow. Even Helmut isn’t around.

A nauseating possibility comes to Rey: that Kylo may expect favors in return for things like food and clothes, and if she doesn’t give him what she wants, she’ll go hungry and naked. But he’s given her both those things without any expectation so far. She isn’t sure why he’d change his mind now. She hopes she’s wrong.

Her stomach grumbles in a petulant, keening whine throughout the day. She waits and waits. She’s gone hungry before. She can go hungry again.

Rey twiddles her thumbs as she stares into the growing darkness, chin trembling. Kylo won’t really let her starve to death. Will he?

Well after dark, Rey hears footsteps on the landing. She scrambles out of bed and pads to the door, and she just sees Kylo disappearing into his own bedroom. She starts to call out to him, lifting a hand, but he closes the door. Her arm really hurts. And she’s hungry.

Her throat feels like it’s closing up. She clutches her injured arm by the elbow, shifting from one foot to the other. He won’t really let her starve to death. He’s just mad at her. Tomorrow morning he’ll wake her up for breakfast like he usually does.

But he doesn’t.

Rey manages to sleep through the night, and she wakes up when the sun is high in the sky. She rubs her stomach and gets out of bed, checking the hallway. Empty. No dogs, no Kylo. It’s well after morning. Well after breakfast. She gets up and showers, and forgoes trying to get the leggings on.

She decides she’ll just ignore it. She has her ways: pinching to distract herself, drinking lots of water, and sleeping as often as she can. Rey sleeps and sleeps, but she’s wide awake by dusk, left to miserably pinch her inner thigh every time she thinks about food. She’ll be fine. He’s not going to let her starve to death.

Footfalls come across the landing after dark, and Rey doesn’t get up to investigate. She stares at the ceiling and closes her eyes.

The door opens.

Rey sits up quickly as Kylo enters the room. He sets a plate on the floor with two small slices of bread, and he pushes it a few inches toward the bed with the tip of his boot. He turns to leave without a word.

It isn’t enough food, Rey knows. He’s not going to let her starve to death. He’s going to give her just enough food to keep her alive.

“W-Wait!” she croaks.

Kylo pauses. He looks at her over his shoulder, impassive. She’s hungry. She knows what’s going to happen the longer she goes without enough food. She knows how sick she’ll get. Then she’ll never go home.

Rey clings to her injured arm’s elbow. “Is… is there any way I could have more food?”

“No.”

“Please?” she tries, raspy. She swallows. “Please?”

Kylo doesn’t respond, but he also doesn’t leave. His thumb rubs along the edge of the door handle.

“What would you like?” he asks.

“Anything is fine. Vegetables? Fruit?” Rey shrugs and her shoulders tremble. “Please?”

“Vegetables and fruit?”

“And cheese, maybe?”

Kylo stares at her as he nods. He steps back into the bedroom and closes the door behind himself.

Rey’s heart hammers so hard she feels it reverberate through her back. She straightens a little as Kylo approaches, staring straight ahead at his stomach when he stops between her knees.

He leans over to kiss her cheek. Rey closes her eyes, bracing herself for more, but he only kisses the corner of her mouth. He lingers before he steps away.

“I will return,” Kylo says.

Rey almost asks if that’s it. She keeps her mouth shut, though, and nods in response. Kylo leaves her door open when he goes.

Chapter 10

Chapter Text

A plate of food is brought as promised: not a lot, which Rey figures is a good thing since she hasn’t eaten much in the past few days. Her arm is even feeling well enough that she lets it out of the sling and gives it a stretch. She nibbles on different cheeses she doesn’t know the names of, crackers, and crunches fresh vegetables. Kylo gives her a glass of water and then he unchains her.

She’s led downstairs to the living room and gently, but firmly, pushed to sit on the couch. Rey sits very still, picking at her nails and watching Kylo go to the bookshelf and pick something out. Maybe he just wants a companion. Maybe he’s lonely. It must be a lonely lifestyle, right? If he wanted to… make her do something, he could’ve by now. And he hasn’t. She can tolerate being kissed.

Rey glances to her left as Helmut approaches, head bowed, tail wagging. She lifts her hand and pets him, and he sits next to her legs.

Kylo picks out a red book. He offers it to Rey without a word and goes to sit in the chair nearer to the door. The Trial by someone named Franz Kafka. She’s never heard of it. She tentatively opens it and finds it’s written in English. Well, that’s good. She doesn’t want to have to pretend to read it.

Rey peers over in Kylo’s direction. He’s already looking at her, Hilda gravitating to sit next to his legs. Rey quickly averts her eyes to the book.

They sit reading in silence for a long time. It’s fine: the book isn’t the most exciting thing Rey has ever read, but she knows better than to ask for something else. It doesn’t make a ton of sense, either. But she reads it, and Kylo reads his own book across the room. Helmut lays on the floor and rests his head on his paws and gives a big sigh.

Rey is almost a quarter way through the book when there’s a knock on the front door.

Hilda’s head snaps right around to look. She growls and gets to her feet, and Kylo shushes her and gets up, too. He pulls a pistol from his belt loop and stalks to the door, and Rey almost asks if she should go hide somewhere. But he peers through the viewing window and puts the gun away.

Kylo looks over his shoulder at Rey like he’s considering something, jaw shifting, hesitating. He opens the door.

Two men enter: a burly bald guy Rey doesn’t recognize, and the tall, sinewy form of Hux—who she does recognize. She scowls upon seeing him slink inside, and he breaks into a wide smile when he spies her.

“I see you two are having an exciting afternoon,” Hux drawls. He nudges the big guy with an elbow. “This is the spare that Ren had to have. I’m not sure I would pay—”

“Do you have news?” Kylo interrupts as he closes the door.

“Yes.” Hux raises his eyebrows and jerks his head in Rey’s direction. “It would be better discussed elsewhere.”

“Fine.”

They walk out to the kitchen. The big guy lags behind, staring at Rey with the same smarmy smile on his face that Hux has. Rey glares, and he stops, and he takes a step in her direction.

Hilda leaps on the couch, snapping and snarling, ears pinned back. The man recoils instantly with a foreign curse word. A laugh floats out from the kitchen.

“Raoul just nearly lost his hand,” Hux calls over his shoulder, still laughing. Kylo appears suddenly in the doorway with a blank, tight expression. “Better watch where you step, Raoul. Helmut isn’t of much use, but Hilda will tear your throat out.”

“Hilda,” Kylo calls. “Here.”

Raoul glowers at Hilda. She still has her paws perched on the back of the couch, lip curled in a snarl. Kylo has to repeat himself, sharper and firmer, and she finally pushes off the couch and jumps down. She herds Raoul out to the kitchen. Kylo gives her a pat on the head.

Maybe Hilda isn’t so bad.

Rey leans back to peer through the kitchen through the sliding doors that lead to the back. The men are standing in a circle talking, and she knows it isn’t any of her business and she shouldn’t listen. She stares for a few minutes before going back to her reading. They’re speaking in German, anyway.

She could try another great escape. Rey fingers the edge of her book and furtively looks at the door. It’s tempting. It’s right there. Hux and Raoul must have driven a car here, and Hilda and Kylo are both distracted.

But she has to consider Rose and what might happen to her if she has another botched escape attempt. Or a successful one.

The men are gone for a long time, just standing around talking. Eventually they come back through the house, with Hux leading the way with a smirk on his face and his hands in his pockets. Raoul comes second, and last is Kylo with Hilda at his heels. He doesn’t look pleased. His facial expressions don’t change much, but his jaw is set and his eyes are tight, and Rey knows he’s pissed off about whatever they just discussed.

“Arrangements have been made in Prague, of course,” Hux calls as he opens the door. He holds onto the handle and furrows his brow to Kylo. “Though, I’m not sure why you’re not amenable to me babysitting.” His green eyes flicker to Rey. “I am a verygood babysitter.”

Kylo doesn’t respond. Hux’s smile falters somewhat, like he’s disappointed he didn’t get a reaction. He rolls his eyes and sighs and snaps his fingers to Raoul. They walk out the door, and Kylo shuts it behind them.

Rey waits, hoping he may clue her in as to what they were all talking about. But he locks the door and walks out to the kitchen without a word.

Pots and pans bang and clang; cabinets slam. Hilda stays by the doorway watching Kylo, but Rey can’t quite see him around the corner. She twiddles her thumbs and exchanges a glance with Helmut. He’s lying down, head on his paws. That seems like a good idea.

She goes back to reading, and soon the smell of cooking food floats out to the living room: onions and meat and something else Rey isn’t familiar with. It smells so good—she’s excited at first, then her stomach twists with anxiety. Food is going to come at a price from now on. She hopes it isn’t too much.

Kylo silently collects her with snapping fingers. Rey holds her tongue and joins him at the table, pleasantly surprised when she sees stir fry instead of raw meat. Helmut sits next to her and stares while she eats. Hilda patrols the house, nails clicking on hardwood, just as agitated as Kylo seems to be. He eats, and Rey tries not to study him too closely, but the way he eats seems… irritated.

“Is something wrong?” she asks. He ignores her. “I can stay here. I won’t try to—”

“You will come,” Kylo interrupts coldly. He pulls a vegetable off his fork with his teeth and chews and swallows. His gaze wanders away. “You will behave.”

Rey nods, lapsing into silence. They eat for a few minutes before she decides to try talking again. Sometimes he’ll talk.

“The book you gave me is interesting,” she says. “Kind of weird, but interesting.”

“Yes.”

“I’ve never heard of it before.”

“Mm.”

“We read The Great Gatsby last year in English. Have you read it?”

“Yes.”

Rey widens her eyes and nods slowly. Kylo’s dark eyes return to her, like he’s coming out of a dream. His throat bobs.

“I like your Ernest Hemingway,” he says. He pauses, giving his shoulders a slight shrug. “He is straightforward.”

“Really? I liked him, too. We read The Old Man and The Sea in tenth grade and I thought it was good. The Great Gatsby had a lot of metaphors and stuff.”

“Yes. Flowery.”

“But I think the one you gave me is good. It’s still kind of straightforward, even though I think it’s a big metaphor.”

“Yes. But it is honest.”

“It reminds me of Nineteen Eighty-Four, a little?” Rey ventures, and Kylo tilts his head. “Because of the big secret organization.”

“That is similar.”

Rey smiles at Kylo and he smiles back, strained and odd. She’s satisfied with that conversation. Maybe it will be harder for him to do anything to her if they’re on friendly terms.

She finishes eating and offers to wash the dishes. Kylo obliges, but he stands two feet away with a hand on the counter, watching every move she makes. He drums his long fingers on the granite. Rey tries to smile but he doesn’t smile back this time. It’s like he wants to jump out of his skin.

And she feels something weird: a brief flicker of sympathy. For a second, she imagines what his life must be like, and the things he must have done, and she wonders if it ever makes it hard for him to sleep.

“You will read Nothing New in the West next,” Kylo says suddenly.

Rey nods, swallowing and focusing on the soapy water. “Okay.”

“It is an important novel.”

“Sure.”

Kylo nods once, satisfied with her answer.

Rey drags out dish-washing as long as she can, but eventually they’re all cleaned, dried, and put away. Night is falling, and Helmut and Hilda are waiting for them by the kitchen doorway. Rey slowly dries her hands and meets Kylo’s silent, penetrating stare, shrouded in shadow.

“Um…” She clears her throat. “I should probably take a shower and put the sling back on.”

“Fine.”

She’s herded upstairs first in line, and at the top of the stairs, Kylo turns and shoos the dogs. Rey’s heart pounds, eyes wide and staring into the darkness. Her hands tremble as she picks at her cuticles.

“I can get dressed by myself,” she says. Her voice wavers as Kylo touches the small of her back. “I think my arm is basically all better.”

He doesn’t lead her down the hallway. He opens the door to his own bedroom, and Rey considers making a break for it.

But she doesn’t. Her eyes fill with tears as Kylo guides her into the bedroom, plain and simple just like the one he keeps her chained up in. He closes the door behind them.

Kylo walks toward the dresser against the wall as he pulls off his shirt over his head. He drops it into a basket and reaches back for his pistol, which he places on top of the dresser. Rey hopes she disappears into the darkness: that it swallows her up whole. She stands there with tears in her eyes, wondering if this is happening to Rose, and wondering how either of them will ever come back from this.

“Undress,” Kylo says. He unbuckles his belt.

“I should go shower—”

“Undress.”

Rey tries to babble out another excuse. Kylo rolls his eyes while she talks, changing into joggers but leaving his shirt off.

He closes the dresser drawer sharply and stalks over to Rey. He pulls off her shirt over her head. She halfheartedly resists, staggering a step, but not managing to stop him. He makes short work of her pants too, and they’re added to the basket near the dresser.

She shivers, tears streaming down her face. “Please—please don’t—”

“Get in the bed. Face the window.”

“Please—”

Kylo seizes her by the upper arm. Rey sobs and shakes her head, and he drags her to the bed, ignoring her attempts to dig in her heels. He drops her on the blue sheets and she scrambles for the opposite side of the mattress, hoping to climb out and run for her life—but Kylo grabs her again.

She shrieks as she’s pulled backwards against his bare chest. No, no, no—he’s not supposed to do this—this isn’t supposed to happen.

Warm skin presses against hers; warm and hard and unyielding. Rey sobs and begs as Kylo pulls the blanket over them, and he continues to ignore her, unmoved, uncaring. He tucks the blankets in around her neck before winding his thick forearm around her middle. His fingers creep along her ribs, wedging between her body and the mattress. His breath is in her hair, hot and steady. He’s smelling her. Why is he smelling her? What is he going to do to her?

Nothing happens for a minute—and then a minute stretches into five, and five stretches into ten or fifteen or however long an eternity is. Rey waits and waits, and her sobs quiet down to pathetic sniffles.

Kylo rolls her over to face him. Her chin quivers and she winces as he shuffles lower to nuzzle his head under her jaw, wiry black hair tickling her flesh, giving her goosebumps. Rey’s breath catches in her throat when he grasps her wrist. She shakes her head, but Kylo pulls her hand up to slip her fingers through his hair. His hand falls away, coiling around her waist.

She doesn’t move. Doesn’t breathe. Rey waits, breathless and confused.

Kylo grunts impatiently and reaches up again to push her fingers through his hair. Rey realizes very suddenly what he’s demanding, and she starts gently running her trembling fingers through his thick hair. It’s soft and clean and rolls through her hands.

Kylo exhales a soft, rumbling sigh. He nuzzles her throat and places a kiss there, then he goes still.

Chapter 11

Chapter Text

As promised, Rey is obedient during their trip.

They fly first class, which sort of makes up for her being a victim of human trafficking. Kylo leads her through the airport and provides the gate agents with a passport that isn’t hers, and they wave them through without incident. She could make a big scene—tell them she’s been kidnapped and so has her friend.

But they could hurt Rose. They still have her, as far as Rey knows.

Kylo sits in the aisle seat and Rey sits against the window. They’re comfortable seats, at least. Plenty of room. Better than being packed into a coach seat like a sardine.

Rey peers out the window while Kylo scrolls through his phone. He’s wearing sunglasses and a hat and made her wear a big, stupid hat, too. She pulls it off her head and he grunts and puts it right back on.

“They can tell who I am!” she hisses.

“Behave,” he snaps.

She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms like a petulant child.

They haven’t talked about the weird cuddle session the night before. Kylo just got up and went about his business the next morning like nothing was out of the ordinary, and Rey didn’t want to ask too many questions and give him any gross ideas. She stayed awake half the night worried he was about to force himself on her. But he didn’t. He just slept.

Their flight takes off on schedule. Rey grips the armrests tight on the ascent, wincing. Kylo gives her a smug smirk.

“Air travel is the safest mode of transportation,” he tells her.

“Yeah, well—” Rey glares at him. “I’ll remember that when we’re plunging thousands of feet through the atmosphere to a fiery death.”

Kylo shakes his head, still smiling slightly.

They lapse into silence. The stewardess brings drinks and snacks, and that keeps Rey busy for a bit, but soon enough she’s back to being bored to tears. She doesn’t have her phone, of course, and she doesn’t feel like reading. She could watch a movie.

She peers at Kylo. He’s reading a book, a German title she doesn’t recognize.

“So,” Rey says. He doesn’t look at her. “Whatcha reading?”

“Tolstoy.”

“Cool. Cool.” She taps her fingertips together. “So, um… how did you get started in your line of work, anyway?”

Night has fallen across the plane, and Rey feels like her voice carries further than she wants it to. She looks around warily as Kylo flips to the next page of his book. She waits, but he doesn’t answer her question. Fabulous.

“Do you have any family?” she presses.

“Yes.”

“Do they know what you do?”

“No.”

Rey rolls her eyes and settles back in her seat. Another productive conversation. It’s like getting blood from a stone.

More quiet passes. Rey gazes out the window at the black sky and thick white clouds, wondering where Rose is, wondering what’s going to happen to them. Maybe she should make a scene. The police could help. They could at least arrest Kylo.

“My mother is an attorney.”

She lets her head loll toward Kylo. He’s still reading, and is silent for a long beat.

“And your dad?” Rey asks.

“Dead.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

Kylo shrugs. “It is of no consequence.”

“Do you have siblings?”

“No.” He gives her a look, eyebrows raised. “And I do not often speak with my mother.”

Damn. Rey nods, pretending she wasn’t planning anything. Maybe she comes to visit sometimes.

“So, why do you…?” Rey gestures to nothing in particular. “I just don’t get how someone starts doing something like… what you do.”

Kylo doesn’t give in. He returns to his book, clearly not interested in discussing why he buys and sells people. But she has a little more information today that she didn’t have yesterday. That’s good.

| | |

After dropping their bags off in the hotel, Kylo gives Rey a very skimpy black dress to wear and informs her they’re going to be attending a meeting with some important people. Prague looks like an interesting place, and Rey gazes out the window of the bedroom while she puts on her dress. She’ll never get to see any of it.

She isn’t even sure why Kylo brought her along to begin with—and why he’s risking bringing her to a meeting. But she changes, as instructed, and she pulls her hair up in a ponytail to keep it out of the way.

It isn’t until after dark that they leave the hotel, and a mysterious black car picks them up from the front steps. A burly guy puts a bag over Rey’s head, which doesn’t scare her as much as it should. She sits wedged between Kylo and the car door, hands clasped in her lap, twiddling her thumbs. This is fine.

Kylo speaks with the other men in the car: Rey counts four. But they’re speaking a foreign language; not German, but something else. She tries to parse our words but it’s no use.

Rey is dragged from the car and into a loud, hot building, pounding with music. It reminds her of the night she and Rose met Kylo and Hux, and her blood pressure skyrockets as she’s led by the elbow, blind, completely at sea. She could be anywhere. They could do whatever they wanted with her.

But she at least recognizes Kylo’s grip on her. She presses closer to his side as he leads her, and he gives her a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

She’s pushed into a soft seat. Rey huffs as the bag is slipped off her head, and she glowers at Kylo before looking around.

It’s a small room. It’s dimly-lit with white and red lights and smells strongly of cigarettes and alcohol. The carpet is fire engine red and there are black drapes on the walls, obscuring half a dozen even smaller rooms. There are women scattered around. Seven of them. They’re all wearing next to nothing, draped over the red padded chairs or lying on the floor.

Rey frowns as Kylo leaves with two big guys in black without a word of explanation. Where is she? What are they doing here?

None of the women talk to her. They’re all pretty, lithe and young, some wearing heavy makeup. Some are half-asleep, and some are unconscious, soundly passed out. Music pounds through the big black door off to Rey’s left, but she doesn’t dare get up to check it out. She sits very still in her seat, jet lag fading into anxiety. What is this? Who are these women?

It feels like a lifetime passes waiting for Kylo to return. Lots of possibilities run through Rey’s head: she’s being sold, she’s going to be killed, she’s being transferred someplace else where they can hide her better. But another possibility rears it’s ugly head, one that Rey finds especially gross.

She jumps when the black door off to the right opens. Kylo comes out, trailed by a short red-faced bald man. He shouts and points with a bejeweled finger, hopping up and down. Kylo snaps his fingers to Rey.

“Come,” he says. He’s calm. Cool as a cucumber.

Rey doesn’t need to be told twice. She hops to her feet and is led from the room.

It’s dark when they emerge from the packed club into an alleyway. Rey takes deep, heaving breaths as the door slams shut behind them, relieved to be tasting fresh air. Kylo lights a cigarette.

She isn’t being sold off, then. Or killed. Rey crosses her arms, shivering.

“You could’ve just left me at the hotel,” she says. “It’s not like I have anywhere to go.”

Kylo pulls from his cigarette. He looks around the shadowy, empty alley, then heads off to the left towards the street. He snaps his fingers.

Rey doesn’t move. She waits until he notices, which he does just before he reaches the street. He turns and stares at her, and she steels herself against it. He didn’t bring her to the meeting because he had to. He wanted to. She was being shown off, and kidnappers don’t bring their captives around to show them off.

“Why did you bring me?” she asks. “I’m a hostage.”

Kylo’s cigarette glows bright orange. He slowly lifts it to his lips and takes another drag, staring at Rey all the while. Her spine prickles.

She takes a small step back. She pivots on her heel and starts swiftly toward the other end of the alleyway.

“Rey,” Kylo calls. His voice turns sharper when she doesn’t stop. “Rey.”

It can’t be that way. He can’t feel that way towards her. Rey runs as she turns the corner of the alley and finds herself in another one. He’s just holding her hostage until the Ticos pay the ransom. They don’t feel anything towards one another, and that’s why this is a lot easier than it could’ve been.

She races towards a street, terrified. She isn’t his girlfriend. She f*cking hates him.

“Rey! Rey!”

Rey looks over her shoulder for a second, not sure where she’s going, but sure she doesn’t want to go back. She turns around and takes a couple steps back to scream at Kylo not to follow her—and she bumps into someone.

“Oh sh*t—” She stumbles a step. “Sorry, I’m sorry—”

It’s one of the big guys wearing black. Rey blinks, then she’s grabbed by the arm.

She shrieks. The guy drags her a couple feet towards the end of the alley, and a shot goes off. His body jerks and he grunts and drops her as he collapses to the ground. Rey covers her ears as another shot comes. Blood pools on the pavement, gushing from the man’s leg.

Rey’s hands shake as she uncovers her ears. Kylo pauses to check her out, brushing her hair from her face, examining her upper arm where she was grabbed. His concerned furrowed brow slips into a hard, unreadable mask as he turns toward the man. He’s dragging himself down the alley, blood smeared behind him.

Kylo steps on the bullet wound in his calf. He howls, pounding his fist on the ground, and Kylo leans more weight on the wound.

“Sloppy,” he says coldly. He rests his elbow on his knee, lowering his voice. “Tell Pietro we may discuss business if he wishes to. There is no need for retaliation.”

The man breathes hard through his teeth. Kylo lets off his leg and watches him haul himself to his feet, staggering along by gripping the wall. His injured leg slides behind him.

Rey hears soft rattling. She glances down, eyes still wide, and sees Kylo’s hand holding the gun violently shaking at his side.

She winces when he shoots the man in the back of the head. He collapses face first with a soft thump.

Kylo exhales, closing his eyes and putting his gun in his belt loop. He seizes Rey’s hand and pulls her in the opposite direction away from the body. She’s in too much shock to do anything but be pulled.

They don’t speak on the short trip back to the hotel. Rey hears emergency services distantly as Kylo helps her from the back of the taxi. She resists a little as they walk in the big double doors, but Kylo gently guides her inside with a hand on the small of her back. Maybe they could help her. He can’t just shoot people in the middle of the street. They’re going to find him, she’s sure.

Kylo stops her at their hotel room door and does a sweep with his gun drawn. Rey just stands there again, numb and confused and petrified. Will she get in trouble for not stopping him from killing people? Will she get in trouble for going with him to his meetings?

He locks the door. “We will leave tomorrow. Pietro should receive the message.”

Rey remains frozen in place. Kylo places his various guns and knives on the nightstand, then half-turns to look back at her. Silence follows.

“There is a shower,” he says, nodding toward the bathroom. “I will order room service.”

She forgot she hasn’t eaten since the flight. Rey nods absentmindedly, then shuffles to her suitcase to pick out the pajamas Kylo packed for her. She’ll shower and brush her teeth. Have something to eat. That will make her feel better.

It does—sort of. The food is waiting on the small table in the corner of the room when she emerges from the bathroom, washed and still tense. Kylo gets up from his chair as she wanders closer and he gestures to the plates.

“Chicken breast,” he says. He pulls out Rey’s chair. “Sit.”

She sits. He pushes in her chair and returns to his seat, and Rey stares at the plate. Chicken with sprigs of something on it, maybe rosemary, and a side of vegetables and potatoes. It looks good, and she thinks she’s hungry, but she can barely stomach more than a few bites. Her thoughts spiral to the possibility of being arrested, and the possibility that Kylo… likes her.

It’s repulsive. Terrifying. Rey puts down her fork and pushes her half-empty plate away, shuddering.

Kylo doesn’t say anything. Her dread builds while she sits there, waiting for him to finish and decide it’s time for bed. She could sleep on the couch. There’s a perfectly good red couch in the little sitting area, and she could easily curl up there for the night.

He leans back and pats his mouth with his napkin. Rey watches from the corner of her eye as he gets up. To her relief, he goes to the bathroom instead of the bed.

She seizes the opportunity to get herself settled on the couch. There’s a quilt folded at the end of the bed, and she hastily carries it to the couch along with two pillows. She’s lying down facing the back of the couch by the time the shower starts, and she pulls the quilt up close to her ears. There. Now he won’t say anything. It would be awkward if he said something.

Rey is too tense to fall asleep. She flinches when the bathroom door opens. Kylo moves around the room for a couple of minutes. He won’t say anything. That’s not the way this thing works. Even what he did the other day, when he fingered her in the bathroom, that was just a tactic to scare her. She’s a hostage, and soon he’ll let her go back home, and she’ll go to school—

“Get in the bed.”

Rey pretends not to hear. She stays perfectly still, hoping he thinks she’s asleep.

Footsteps approach from behind her. Rey stiffens when she feels a warm hand on her shoulder. It’s meant to be gentle, she thinks, but she feels the threat in it.

“I’m fine here,” she feebly tries.

“Get in the bed.”

“But… but I’m—”

“Now.”

She ignores him again, hoping he’ll give up and go away.

Kylo lifts her from the couch, quilt and all. Rey gasps as he carries her to the bed and drops her on one side. She’s tangled in the quilt, but Kylo helps free her from it, and she rolls to the other side of the bed. He climbs in after her and before she can scramble away, his big arm is wrapped around her waist. He’s just wearing a sleeveless white shirt and sweatpants.

Rey winces as she’s dragged up against his chest. Kylo pulls the quilt over them, letting her waist go for a few seconds. She tries to roll on her back to get away and he follows, wedging a knee between her thighs. He’s heavy. She pushes her palms against his chest when he leans in to kiss her, and she twists away from it, and he kisses the corner of her mouth. He smells like mint and musky shampoo and his hair is still dripping.

“Wait—” He kisses her on the lips and Rey draws back. “Wait—”

Kylo ignores her. He deepens the kiss, grasping her jaw. She squirms and pushes on his hips and she feels a very worrying hot, hard pressure against her thigh.

He seems to realize it at the same moment she does. Kylo breaks their kiss, taking a shallow, shuddering breath against her cheek. His fingers curl around her throat as his hips start swaying—testing, curious, like he isn’t sure he wants to. Rey shakes her head and keeps pushing his hips, then digging her nails into the soft skin beneath the hem of his shirt.

“Please don’t,” she begs. She jerks, trying to push him off. “Please don’t—”

Kylo shifts his weight, now fully on top of her, breathing hard in her hair. He presses his co*ck between her legs and rolls his hips, rough and erratic. He moves faster and harder, rocking the bed in a creaky, incriminating rhythm, just barely managing to stifle his deep grunts. Rey closes her eyes and waits, and soon enough, his movements come to a sharp, abrupt stop.

Kylo rests his head in the pillow beside hers, catching his breath. Her pajama bottoms are damp. Maybe that was payment for dinner.

He doesn’t say anything when he rolls off her. They lie there silently beside each other, staring at the ceiling.

“I’m your hostage,” Rey says, voice wavering. She picks at the edges of her nails as tears well up in her eyes. “You’re not supposed to do anything to me.”

She isn’t supposed to have to do things with him to get food. He isn’t supposed to like her, and he isn’t supposed to touch her. They’re supposed to be two ships passing in the night until this whole nightmare comes to an end.

Kylo gets up without a word. He changes, and when he comes back to the bed, he wraps an arm around Rey’s waist like nothing happened. He takes her hand lying at her side and guides her fingers to his hair. She rips her hand away, twisting in his arms to face away from him, lower lip quivering.

He follows, tightening his hold around her waist, hand sliding beneath her shirt. He nuzzles into her neck, and when she starts crying, he rubs his thumb in sympathetic circles on her stomach.

Chapter 12

Chapter Text

When Rey wakes in the morning, Kylo is still in bed with her. He’s coiled around her, one arm secure by her waist, face buried in her hair. She feels his chest gently rise and fall against her back. He’s still asleep.

She swallows, eyes wandering the room. She doesn’t want to wake him up, but she kind of needs to go to the bathroom, and she can’t stay here forever.

Rey tries pulling herself to the edge of the bed. Kylo’s arm tightens around her waist and he grumbles in his sleep and drags her closer. She huffs, fear turning into annoyance. How is he still asleep? He’s always up at the ass-crack of dawn at the house, but now he’s sleeping in all of a sudden?

She picks at his thick fingers, but it’s no use. Irritated, Rey pushes back against him, thrusting hard to see if she can force him backwards and wake him up—and she feels unwelcome hard pressure push back against her.

“Jesus—” Her cheeks burn and she tries pulling away again. “Hey—hey! Get off me!”

Kylo grunts in her hair. His fingers move, but instead of sliding away, they wander lower. Rey’s eyes widen as he slips his hand down the front of her pajama bottoms. No, no; that’s not what she wanted—

She goes ramrod straight as he brushes her cl*t. She pushes back again, struggling for an escape, and Kylo releases a rough, rumbling breath against her scalp.

There isn’t any way out. Rey squeezes her eyes shut and gasps softly as his fingers move, rubbing lightly on either side of her cl*t instead of that direct, harsh pressure she learned she hates a long time ago. She jerks with one last attempt to get away. No, no. No. This isn’t what she wants. This isn’t what she wants.

But she remembers what happened the last time she rejected him: how he grabbed her throat and took away her food. She swallows, tears welling up in her eyes. She can’t just let him do this. That would be bad—that would make her bad. It’s just as bad as going to meetings with him. It makes her complicit. It makes her bad.

Kylo seems to notice he’s not getting much of a reaction. His hand slips lower, stretching the fabric of her bottoms so he can angle two fingers to gently touch her entrance. Rey whimpers as he presses his middle finger inside her. He pumps a few times, slowly, breaths light on her cheek—and he finds that spot again, and it makes Rey squirm. Kylo adjusts his arm and settles in. He kisses the corner of her mouth.

There isn’t any escape. Rey’s chin quivers, tears rolling down her cheeks while Kylo’s finger rocks inside her. She sobs, shaking her head, squirming her hips. She pushes back against him and he shushes her, low and soft, like he’s genuinely trying to help her relax. Her thighs tremble around his wrist and she takes shallow, rapid breaths. Kylo rests his cheek against the side of her head. No escape.

She unwinds the longer he touches her, and she’s so tired; too tired to fight. Rey relaxes on his chest. Her thighs squeeze around his hand, and he starts kissing her neck, sucking and biting, soon grinding in a slow, distracted rhythm against her ass. He grunts and slips his hand from her underwear to paw at her leggings, desperate and hungry as he peels them down her hips.

“Wait,” Rey breathes, wincing as Kylo bites her shoulder. “Hang—Hang on—”

There isn’t any stopping him. He digs his fingers into her hip, desperately grinding his hard-on against her, clearly spinning out of control. Rey starts to panic at the thought of him shoving his dick inside her as hard as he can. She doesn’t want to have sex. She really doesn’t.

She gets an idea. Not a perfect one, but one that she thinks will work well enough.

Rey turns to face Kylo. He kisses her, all force and desperation, rolling his big body forward to pin her beneath him. She kisses him back as she hurriedly slips a hand under the hem of his boxers. Her heart pounds and her belly flips when he takes a sharp, surprised breath. He stops kissing her.

It’s not so bad, really. Rey pumps her fist up and down his co*ck, noticing with a nervous flutter in her guts that it’s really big.

But Kylo relaxes, thrusting into her grasp, then reaching down to show her how to move her hand. He nuzzles into her hair, smelling her between his harsh, deep breaths. Rey closes her eyes while he lightly kisses her face, from her forehead to her nose to her cheekbones. His co*ck thickens and hardens in her hand. Sticky fluid runs down her fingers.

“Are you going to come?” she whispers. She isn’t sure why. Her tears are still drying on her cheeks, and she still f*cking hates him. But Kylo nods, breathless, mouthing at her bare shoulder, and she feels… weird.

She stops. He stops, sucking in a sharp, irritated grunt. He bites her shoulder and reaches down to move her hand, but Rey doesn’t move.

“I want to talk to Rose,” she says. Her heart pounds. “Today.”

Kylo grapples with her hand again, trying to move it up and down his co*ck. She squeezes, and he exhales a low, strange sound, and he starts nodding, struggling to thrust into her grasp. Rey still doesn’t move her hand. She keeps it there, wound around his throbbing length, waiting to see what he’ll do.

And he starts kissing her: light and soft, trailing her forehead and nose and cheekbones again. Rey stares at the ceiling at first, then she closes her eyes and lets herself be kissed. She presses her thumb against the bundle of nerves under the head of Kylo’s co*ck, and his entire body shudders.

“And don’t chain me up when we go back,” Rey continues, voice shaking.

Kylo tears her hand away from his co*ck. He seizes her by the throat, pinning her to the pillows, and his other hand pumps between his legs. Rey winces as hot, sticky fluid splashes on her bare stomach.

Kylo gets up without a word. He goes to the bathroom and slams the door shut.

| | |

Rey realizes she kind of messed up a golden opportunity. She got too greedy.

Kylo doesn’t immediately leave the country, so she’s left to think about it all day. He takes her to museums and shops and they have dinner at a nice restaurant, and it seems like nothing has changed with him. Like he didn’t just murder someone the night before. She wonders if she’ll be able to backtrack at all, or if she did something to really offend him.

That’s how this works, though: tit for tat. He gets something, and she gets something. That’s how this is supposed to work.

But as they walk back from dinner late that night, and he strolls along beside her with his hands in his pockets, Rey gets that nagging, terrifying feeling again that that isn’t how this works—that Kylo doesn’t see her as his captive. That she’s never going home.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” she blurts, grasping at straws. Kylo glances at her as they come to a stop. “Or… or something?”

“No.”

“I have a boyfriend. Back home.” Might as well lie. “He’s waiting for me.” Kylo stares blankly at her. “I just—we’re getting married,” she falters. She has no f*cking idea what she’s doing. “So… you know.”

“You are seventeen.”

“Well, when you know, you know.”

Kylo keeps staring at her. He looks to his left and right, then reaches into his jacket pocket for a small black box.

Rey stays very still as he opens it up. There’s a big diamond ring inside, encircled with smaller diamonds, and it looks very expensive. She lets him lift her hand and slide the ring on her left ring finger. It fits. When did he get it? Today?

Kylo snaps the box shut and tosses it into a nearby trash can. Her plan backfired tremendously. Rey stares at the ring. It feels like it weighs a ton.

“This is…” She shakes her head. “Don’t… don’t do stuff like this. I don’t want this.” Kylo watches as she peels the ring off. She holds it out in her fist, but he doesn’t take it. “Take it back.”

He stares.

Rey drops it on the sidewalk. She turns and keeps walking, faster than before, arms crossed over her chest. She feels sick. Disoriented.

They arrive back at the hotel and Rey hurries up to their room. Kylo follows, not in any rush. He grabs the room door when she lets it fall shut on him. Rey paces to the middle of the room and rubs her chest, hoping to keep her tears at bay.

“When am I going home?!” she snaps, voice trembling. Kylo shuts and locks the door. “I… I should be going home by now. Have you met with the Ticos?”

“No.”

“I have to go home. I have to get out of here.”

Kylo remains near the door. He watches her pacing, slowly spinning out. Why did he give her a f*cking engagement ring? That’s not some cheap random piece of jewelry. And why is he giving her jewelry at all? What does he think this is?

“I’m not your f*cking girlfriend!” Rey hisses. She glares, lower lip quivering as she meets Kylo’s blank stare. “You kidnappedme—you’re holding me f*cking hostage! Don’t buy me f*cking jewelry. Don’t talk to me about f*cking books. And don’t… touch me!”

Still nothing. Rey angrily wipes her eyes, and Kylo takes a step towards her. She shakes her head, stepping back.

“Stay away from me!” she demands. He continues forward, dark eyes on hers. “I mean it! Stay away—!”

He seizes her by the forearm. Rey shrieks, letting her feet out from under her to fall to the floor, yanking at Kylo’s immense grip. He staggers a step but doesn’t let go, then he drops to the floor with her, straddling her body with his. Rey flails and screams and he kisses her, like that’s what she really wants right now.

She bites him.

Kylo withdraws with a sharp hiss. He leans back on his calves, broad chest rising and falling rapidly as he looks down at Rey. She glares, licking his blood off her lower lip. There’s more where that came from.

He reaches into his pocket and takes out the ring. Rey clenches her jaw as he slides it on her left finger.

Kylo drops her hand on her stomach and gets up. He walks toward the bathroom, and Rey turns over on her hands and knees. She pulls off the ring and hurls it at the back of his head—and it makes contact, plunking lightly off his hair and bouncing to the floor.

“I’m not your f*cking girlfriend,” Rey snaps.

He turns around. His eyes flicker to the ring on the floor. He bends to pick it up, and he advances on Rey again.

But someone knocks at the door.

Kylo pauses, instantly reaching back for his gun. He tosses the ring on the bed and gestures for Rey to move, so she scrambles to hide on the other side of the bed. She watches him walk to the door and check through the peephole. He speaks to the visitor in German, and they answer in the same rough accent.

He opens the door. It’s a burly guy, like one of the ones from last night. Rey huddles into the corner while they talk. It doesn’t seem to be an angry conversation.

The man leaves after a few minutes. Kylo shuts and locks the door.

“I have a meeting to attend,” he calls. His gun co*cks. “Do not leave the room. Do not order room service. Lock the door behind me.”

Rey peers over the side of the bed. Kylo doesn’t so much as look at her as he gathers a couple more things and leaves.

Chapter 13

Chapter Text

Rey could run away. She should run away. It’s not like she’s in a hostile country. People will help her. Bring her to the embassy. She could be home tomorrow.

But she lays in the bed instead, staring at the ceiling, frozen by something she can’t quite place. Rose will probably be fine if she leaves. They want the ransom, so they won’t risk killing or hurting her. All Rey has to do is walk down to the nice man at the front desk, tell him she’s been kidnapped, and wait for the authorities to arrive and arrest Kylo.

That’s all she has to do. They could even find Rose, she’s sure.

Rey tells herself she’ll get up and open the door—peer out into the hallway to flag someone down. She’s wary of walking downstairs herself, but with support, she’s sure she can do it. But she just lays there, sunken to the mattress like she weighs a thousand pounds, spinning wild revenge fantasies. Kylo won’t see it coming. He’ll come back and the police will throw him to the ground; handcuff him and drag him off to jail. All his stupid f*cking dogs will starve. She’ll be on the next flight home and will never think of him again.

She ran away before. Multiple times. There isn’t a Hilda or Hux to stop her this time. No threat of her throat being torn out.

Her throat closes up, tears beading in her eyes as the weight in her chest just gets heavier. All she has to f*cking do is get up and walk. Open her mouth. Tell someone what’s happening. Get on a plane. Go home.

Get up. Get up. Get up—

Pounding comes suddenly from the door. Rey gets up, heart leaping into her throat. She grabs the phone on the side table, brandishing it like a weapon—then the door swings open, thudding against the wall.

Kylo staggers inside. He’s holding his upper arm, fingers covered in bright red, shiny blood. Rey slowly lowers the phone as he kicks the door shut behind himself. Another wet red stain is seeping beneath his shirt on his left side. He’s bleeding. A lot.

His breaths are hard and fast as he heads toward the bathroom. He catches his weight on the doorway, smearing blood on the white paint, spitting a curse. His hand slides away as he staggers two more steps into the bathroom. Rey hears a dull thud as he collapses.

She scrambles out of bed. “Kylo? What—?”

“Medical kit!” he barks from behind the corner. “Duffel bag—” He takes a couple more breaths. “And bring whatever is in the refrigerator!”

Rey makes a beeline for the duffel bag. She rummages through ammo and weapons, trying not to think too much on it, and finds a first aid kit buried at the bottom. She goes to the mini fridge, which is just stocked with tiny alcohol bottles. She grabs as many as she can.

Kylo is leaning against the cabinets, eyes squeezed shut. His hand rests over the wound in his side and he lifts it as Rey kneels with the first aid kit. There’s a maroon hole in his body. It’s pouring blood. His hand shakes as he presses a towel against the spot.

Rey unscrews a tiny vodka and offers it to Kylo. He parts his lips, so she carefully tilts it to his mouth. He drinks the whole thing in two swallows.

“Bullet did not pass through,” he grits out. He snaps his fingers. “Saline—stitches—”

Rey’s hands shake violently as she opens the first aid kit. She hands Kylo the bottle of saline and he irrigates the wound in his side. He pauses, clenching his jaw, huffing through his teeth. Rey gives him a rum bottle, then turns away when he pushes his finger into the bullet hole. Her stomach lurches at the sickly squelch.

Kylo thumps his head back against the cabinets and tosses a silver piece of metal into the tub. His eyes roll back, lips turning pale.

“Arm,” he mumbles. His eyebrows lift, but his eyes barely open. “Bullet.”

“I can’t—” Rey shakes her head, terrified. “I can’t—”

He drops his blood-soaked forearm in her lap. There’s another hole, smaller, but still hard to look at. Kylo irrigates it with the saline and has to take a break. He looks worse and worse by the second. He’s turning ghostly white, sweat beading on his forehead.

Rey just goes for it. She doesn’t think. She pushes her finger into the wound and only slightly hesitates when Kylo groans in agony. She keeps her jaw tight as he roots deeper until she finds something hard, and she draws it back out and hurls it into the bathtub.

Her heart is racing. She pauses, sort of reflecting on what she just did, then she quickly washes out the wound.

Kylo’s eyes are closed, breaths ragged and shallow. Rey hurriedly searches the first aid kit and finds something called Dermabond, which looks like a bottle of superglue. She isn’t sure what exactly she should do, but carefully, shakily applies it to the edges of both bullet holes and presses the skin together. It doesn’t work.

“Okay. Okay.” Rey trembles as she rummages again and finds a suturing kit. “Okay, I can do this. This is fine.”

Kylo barely reacts when she pierces his skin. She’s sewn before, in sixth grade when they learned some basic life skills in home ec—this is a much grosser, weirder version of it. She pushes the skin together while she works, needle passing back and forth through Kylo’s bloody skin. It holds. Just in case, she applies the Dermabond to the top of it.

She climbs over Kylo’s lap to sew his other wound closed. He twitches this time, and when she’s half done, his dark eyes roll open.

“Almost done,” Rey says, apologetic, like she should be going faster.

He doesn’t respond. She feels him staring.

It gives her a weird sense of satisfaction when she’s done. Her handiwork isn’t pretty, but he’s not bleeding anymore, and it looks like it will stay closed. Rey leans back on her thighs and exhales the breath she feels she’s been holding for half an hour. She unscrews another tiny vodka and offers it to Kylo.

“I hope that works,” she says while he slowly drinks. Her hand shakes. “I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

The adrenaline fades as she throws away the empty liquor bottles. Rey washes her hands and pauses after, grasping the edge of the sink. She’s light headed. Nauseous.

She nods, swallowing. “I’m, um… I’m going to lie down, I think.”

Kylo seizes her hand before she takes two steps. He tugs, weak, but insistent. Rey could pull herself free, but instead she turns and looks down at him. His dark eyes are hooded, sweat shiny on his face and neck. His Adam’s apple bobs as he pulls her again.

She should’ve let him bleed to death. It would’ve solved all her problems. Why didn’t she just let him bleed to death?

Rey slips her hand free. She walks out of the bathroom, blood roaring in her ears.

“I… I love you.”

It’s like a cold knife in her throat—pathetic and warbling, slightly slurred from the alcohol, coming from him like he’s been waiting for weeks to say it. It stops Rey in her tracks. She stares ahead at the wall, motionless.

“I love you,” Kylo repeats, plunging the knife deeper. His voice cracks with emotion and rage boils in Rey’s stomach. “I love you, little one.”

“You kidnapped me. You ruined my life.”

“I will take care of you. I want to take care of you. No one will—”

“You’re drunk,” Rey interrupts, terrified, furious.

“—No one will ever love you the way I do.” There’s movement behind her, like he’s adjusting. “Helen Tico, Rose Tico. They will never love you, no matter how much you give them. But I love you. Even if you do not love me in return.”

Rey turns against her better judgement. Kylo is slumped against the cabinets, eyes heavy and watery. He’s surrounded by empty liquor bottles.

“Missus Tico treats me like I’m her daughter,” Rey spits. “And Rose is like a sister to me. They love me. I’m not falling for—”

“Rose has returned to the States. Helen declined to pay your ransom.”

Rey jerks back like she’s been slapped. Confusion and fear pass through her first, then she shakes her head, laughing tremulously.

“You’re lying.”

“She was returned to her parents two weeks ago.”

“Shut up.”

“Helen does not want you. She does not love you.” Kylo pushes himself up a bit, hardly wincing except for a twitch in his jaw, meeting Rey’s glare. “Hux suggested we return you to the compound and she did not care. She was utterly unfazed at the prospect of you becoming a sex slave.”

“Shut up!”

“But I cared. I love you.” Kylo searches her face. His chin quivers. “I paid your ransom.”

Tears come up burning hot in Rey’s eyes. She clenches her jaw; tries to hold back the furious, wounded sob clawing in her throat. He’s f*cking lying. Mrs. Tico wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t leave her here. Rose wouldn’t abandon her.

Kylo leans forward with some effort. He pants, then rests back against the cabinets again. His eyes flutter.

“I know you do not love me,” he mumbles. His eyebrows lift, but his eyes don’t open. “But I love you. Even if I receive nothing in return.”

Rey glares as his head lolls to the side. She balls her fists, shaking with fury, unable to make a sound. She pivots on her heel, stalking to the bed, and screams into a pillow. She should’ve let him bleed to death.

| | |

Rey absolutely f*cking hates Kylo, but she can barely sleep that night because she’s worried he’ll actually bleed to death. She tells herself it’s just because she’s a generally decent person, but even generally decent people would wish for him to die.

She wakes up around two and finds him slumped over in the bathroom doorway. He’s shaking and cold, eyes rolling, bleeding from the wound on his side. Rey rolls him on his back and fixes the stitches. She shouldn’t.

She knows he’s lying about Rose and Mrs. Tico. It can’t be true. He just wants her to trust him. Like him. Which she doesn’t, and never will.

Rey gets up after she’s done restitching and heads straight for the bed to go back to sleep. But when she turns, she sees Kylo struggling to drag himself across the floor.

“You’re going to rip it open again!” she snaps. She gets out of bed and stomps over to him, and he pauses, peering up at her with sad, doleful eyes. “Just… go to sleep. Stop moving.”

But he refuses to stop. Rey has to help him to the bed, and once there, with a lot of huffing and puffing, he grabs her wrist when she tries to leave. His fingers are cold and clammy and his grip is insistent; weak, but needy. Rey feebly tries to pull away, but he pulls back, and she makes the mistake of looking into his heavy, pitiful eyes.

“I know you’re lying,” she seethes. “I’m not going to fall for it.”

Kylo doesn’t respond. He just tugs.

Rey yanks away from him. She sits in the armchair near the window, glaring out at the city lights. After Kylo falls asleep, she lets herself cry.

Chapter 14

Chapter Text

Somehow, the return trip to Germany is even more awkward than the trip out was.

Kylo doesn’t look great: he’s pale, clammy, and trying to hide his limp. He gets pills from somewhere—Rey isn’t sure where exactly, but she sees him take a bunch of them before they leave the hotel. He has to pause to catch his breath while they walk through the airport and eventually, Rey insists upon carrying the duffel bag full of ammunition. Nerve-wracking, but they go to a specific gate, and the security agents don’t give them any trouble. He must have connections in high places.

He doesn’t talk much. Not that that’s anything new. But he’s quieter than usual, not even taking the time to quiz her on books or remind her to behave. He falls asleep on the plane.

Rey is left to turn over what Kylo told her: that Rose has gone home, and the Ticos abandoned her. She isn’t convinced. He could be lying; trying to manipulate her into giving up and staying with him. But she doesn’t care, even if he paid her ransom and he’s all she has. She still f*cking hates him. That’s never going to change, no matter how much he claims to love her.

She glares at his peaceful sleeping face in the big first-class seat beside her. He’s crazy if he thinks anything is going to change.

They have only one verbal exchange upon landing when they get lunch in the airport cafeteria. Kylo barely touches his food but takes a couple more pills from three different bottles. Rey slowly chews her panini, eyeing him. He’s shaking. She can see sweat beading on his neck.

“Are you going to see a doctor?” she asks.

“I do not need a doctor.” Kylo swallows the pills dry and shivers. His eyes are heavy. “I already have antibiotics and pain medication.”

“You got shot. Twice.”

“I have been shot before.”

Rey furrows her brow, perplexed. She had no idea what she was doing when she stitched up his wounds. He probably has a raging infection brewing.

“Well, I’m not burying you if you die,” she says.

“Fine. Let the dogs eat me.”

“I don’t think they’ll be interested in your bacteria-infested corpse. Isn’t healthcare free here? Just go to the doctor.”

“I am fine.”

“You’re not even eating.”

“I am fine,” Kylo snaps.

“Okay, whatever. You won’t feel so tough when they chop your arm off to stop the infection from going up your neck.”

He huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

On the drive back, Kylo stops at big grey medical building and brings Rey inside. She sits in the waiting area, twiddling her thumbs, smiling at the random people who pass by. Once again, she’s shot herself in the foot. Should’ve let him die of sepsis.

Kylo is only gone for an hour and comes back with more medication. Rey follows him back out to the car, slightly smug.

“How did it go?” she asks once she’s buckled in.

“Fine.” Kylo tosses the bag of medication to the back seat and winces as he turns. “Mild infection.”

“Told you. I’ve seen House, you know.”

“Your stitches were inadequate,” Kylo continues, terse. He winces again as he puts on his seatbelt. “And you did not debride the wound effectively. But the physician was able to correct your mistakes.”

“Next time I’ll just let you bleed to death.”

Kylo shoots Rey a dirty look as he starts the car. She sticks out her tongue, and in the blink of an eye, he grabs it between two curled knuckles. Rey squeaks and jerks away, slapping at his arm. He smiles smugly.

Whatever. She still hates him.

The dogs are happy to see them when they get home—especially Hilda. She comes bounding from behind the house with her tail wagging as Kylo steps out of the car. Helmut trots up to Rey, more muted, slowly wagging his tail and looking to be pet. The other dogs bark and dance around Kylo while he walks slowly to the kennel.

Rey starts to go into the house, determined not to help, but she huffs and follows him when he has to pause to catch his breath.

Kylo doesn’t reject her help. She refills the food dispenser for the dogs while he cleans the water bowls and fountain, and they barely talk through the whole process. She’s not cleaning up dog sh*t. He can do that.

The dogs sniff Rey and tentatively wag their stubby tails, unsure but curious. When she’s done and walking back to the house, two of them trot after her with Helmut, who turns and growls in his throat. The dogs hang back for a minute but follow them all the way to the door.

Rey sits on the couch, arms crossed, staring at the television. Helmut lays down on the floor by her feet, and she decides a nap is a good idea.

| | |

Rey wakes up after dark. A heavy, warm blanket has been draped over her.

She sits up and it slides away as she rubs her eyes and looks around. Kylo is nowhere to be seen, but Helmut is still asleep on the floor. She yawns and gets up, gingerly stepping over the dog. She needs a shower.

Helmut follows her upstairs and lays outside the bathroom with a low huff. Rey takes her shower, yawning all the while. She wraps her wet hair in a towel after and goes to bed in her room, nearly tripping over the metal chain snaking across the floor. She swallows and nudges it aside with the tips of her toes.

Once again, the dog takes a spot on the floor. Rey tries to entice him up on the bed, but she guesses a guard dog is a guard dog. She rolls over and closes her eyes, and soon she falls back asleep.

Soft snapping wakes her again—and this time she’s irritated. Rey scowls, eyes still closed, listening to nails click across the hardwood. She drifts off, too tired to pay much attention, even when the mattress shifts.

But her eyes open when a warm arm slides around her waist. Rey blinks, grabbing Kylo’s hand as it slithers up the front of her shirt. What the—

He pushes her roughly onto her back. Rey squirms, not quite refusing as he moves on top of her without saying a thing. He kisses her neck, hungry and biting, angling his hips between her thighs and moving, rolling rhythmically against her. She grabs his broad back, fisting his t-shirt in her fingers. Okay? Okay?

She’s not really sure what to do, and she guesses since it isn’t hurting anything, she just won’t do anything at all. Rey’s eyes roll slightly as Kylo’s co*ck rubs along her cl*t. Really, there’s no point in trying to stop him.

She stifles her moan when she comes, but she’s pretty sure he can tell, because he moves faster and his big body shudders. Kylo pulls away and leans back on his calves, slipping his co*ck from his sweatpants, pushing up her shirt past her stomach. She swallows and can’t help watching, fascinated, as the pleasure softens his features while he brings himself to completion, cum spilling down his fingers and on her bare skin. The muscles twitch in his lower stomach and he makes a low, stifled sigh.

The bed creaks as Kylo rests his clean hand beside her head. He slips his other hand into his panties. Rey’s mind swims and she shakes her head, but he gently presses his cum-soaked finger inside her. He pumps with equal gentleness before pushing a second finger inside her, and it’s so f*cked up and weird that Rey isn’t sure how to react.

She pushes against his chest. Her legs writhe and her breaths quicken and she pushes, but he doesn’t move. Kylo kisses her instead, and when she bites his lower lip, drawing blood, he completely ignores it. Rey tastes copper and mint, and soon the pressure between her legs is surging again. She whimpers into his mouth and struggles, digging her knees into his hips.

His words from the previous night drift through her mind: sex slave. She didn’t go back to the compound where all the drugged women laid around in cages. She’s had it pretty good so far, with clean clothes and showers and food. Technically, she’s still a hostage. Not a slave.

Kylo nuzzles Rey’s temple when she comes again, and this time she can’t hold back her moan. She tries to play it off as she catches her breath, legs shaking, thighs tight around his hips. He kisses down her cheek to her jaw and wraps his hand around her throat. Rey’s eyes flutter closed, lips parted.

Then he leans away, resting back on his calves, drawing his hand down between her breasts and across her stomach. He gets up and pulls his shirt off.

“I will bring you food.” Kylo wipes off her stomach and chest with her shirt and balls it up in his fist. “Sit up.”

“I’m fine.”

He snaps his fingers, and when she glares, he slaps the side of her thigh. Rey jerks away with another seething glare and reluctantly sits up. He gives her a stern, lingering look before he leaves the room.

She scoots to the edge of the bed and waits. Helmut peeks his head in and comes to sit next to her legs. She scratches him behind the ears. Really, it’s not that bad. She hates Kylo, and she’s not giving up hope that she’s going home sooner or later, but she could be worse off. It’s not like she’s actually a sex slave.

A weird, nagging discomfort blooms in her chest. She’s still a hostage. Kylo is just manipulating her.

He returns with a plate of cut-up chicken and vegetables and a glass of water. Rey mutters a thank you and eats while Kylo stands there with his arms crossed. He makes a sharp sound at Helmut when he shifts on his forelegs, longingly watching each time Rey spears a piece of chicken. She gives him one.

“Do not feed him scraps,” Kylo snaps. “You enable his begging.”

“It’s just a little piece of chicken.” Rey waggles another in his fingers. “You want one?”

Kylo glowers, but leans over and takes it, and she feels his tongue as she pushes it through his lips. He keeps glowering as he straightens, jaw working slowly as he chews. Then he huffs and shakes his head, eyes rolling and wandering elsewhere.

He takes her plate when she’s done. Rey lays back down, facing the window that had seemed a million miles away not too long ago. Now she can get up and touch it.

Helmut is sent out of the room when Kylo returns, and his thick forearm is soon wrapped around her middle. He buries his face in her neck, inhaling, rubbing his palm on her stomach. He turns Rey to face him, and she obediently trails her fingers through his hair as he nudges beneath her chin.

Kylo lightly, lazily trails his fingertips along her lower back. Rey stares at the door. She wouldn’t say she’s enslaved. She’s just being practical.

Chapter 15

Chapter Text

Rain comes the following morning, drumming on the roof, tapping on the windows. Rey wakes to the steady cadence, prone, face buried in the pillows. Kylo is nowhere to be seen.

She gets up after a while, driven out of bed by hunger. Helmut is waiting in the hall and wags his tail when he gets a pet on the head. He follows Rey to the kitchen, sitting by with his tongue lolling from his mouth while she eats a yogurt. She sneaks him a couple licks.

No other dogs are around. Rey peers out into the rain from the safety of the warm, dry house, but she doesn’t see a single dog. Or Kylo. She’s all alone. She could try to run away. Helmut probably won’t stop her.

But she just lingers by the sliding door, waiting, debating, and then the front door opens behind her.

Kylo limps inside with Hilda. She shakes off the water and whines after the door is closed behind them. Hard to read a dog’s face, but it looks like she’s concerned.

And Rey can tell why: when Kylo turns, he’s pale, lips a sickly shade of pinkish white. His hair is wet and he’s clutching his side where he got shot. Red has soaked through his jacket. He must be bleeding again.

“You’re going to die if you keep moving around,” Rey snaps, crossing her arms. He ignores her, limping to the couch to sit. “What were you even doing?”

“Feeding the dogs.”

“You’re going to get an infection or bleed to death. And I’m not taking you to the doctor.”

“The wound is weeping,” Kylo retorts. “It is normal.”

Whatever. She’s doesn’t care. If he dies, she can go back home.

Rey goes back out to the kitchen to make herself oatmeal. Helmut trails her, hoping for another handout, not bothering to pay any attention to Kylo. She’s just finishing up and putting her bowl on the table when she sees Kylo standing from the corner of her eye. He grabs the edge of the couch, shuffling toward the stairs.

“Now where are you going?” Rey calls.

“That is none of your concern.”

“Did you even eat anything today? You barely ate yesterday.”

He pauses, glaring at her over his shoulder. Rey raises her eyebrows expectantly and Kylo’s jaw shifts from side to side. Not like she cares, but he should probably eat.

He grudgingly shuffles to the kitchen, still clutching his side. Rey gestures to her bowl of oatmeal and he mutters something in German under his breath. He sits, and she gives him a lingering glare before turning around to make herself another bowl. Helmut glances between them, not sure if he should try his luck begging Kylo.

They eat in silence. Color comes back to Kylo’s cheeks but he still doesn’t look great. Rey watches him from the corner of her eye, not concerned, but maybe a little interested.

Kylo collects the bowls when they’re finished and starts washing them. Rey gets up to intervene.

“Go lay down,” she says, trying to push him aside. “You look awful.”

“I am fine.”

“No, you’re not.” Rey brushes her fingers on his nape and wrinkles her nose when she feels sweat. “You’re all sweaty. Go shower or something.”

“I am fine.”

“Fine. If you pass out and brain yourself on the way down, I’m not—”

Kylo seizes her throat in his soapy hand. Rey has a split second to take a surprised breath, eyes widening, hands going up to his wrist. Kylo gives her a cold, irritated look, scowling, dark eyes searching hers—then he kisses her.

Rey huffs into his mouth, shaking her head. She pushes both hands against his chest as Kylo turns and pushes her into the edge of the table. She keeps pushing, resisting, trying to pull away from his kisses, but he just follows insistently. His hand slips away from her throat and he lifts her onto the table with one arm.

“Kylo—” Rey twists away when he kisses her again, and she falls back on her palm. “Stop—”

He drags her to the edge of the table by her hips, and Rey collapses on her back with a soft thump. She catches Kylo’s chest again with her hands, elbows bent, now pinned under his body, but he ignores her like he usually does, kissing insistently at the corner of her mouth even as she tries to turn away. No matter what way she turns, he’s kissing her.

Rey worms her heels into the edge of his hips as he sucks and bites at her neck, too rough, making her wince and squirm. She could dig her knuckle into the wound on his side. It’s right under his ribs. That will get him off her.

Her hand wanders down, inconspicuous, she hopes—but Kylo grabs her wrist and pins it roughly next to her head. Rey’s heels lose their grip on his hips and her thighs slip around his waist as he leans closer, resting all his weight on her, lips at her ear.

But he doesn’t say anything. Kylo’s breaths are harsh and shallow, rumbling into a low groan as his co*ck presses between Rey’s legs. It sends a shiver up her spine. She struggles again, yanking on his belt loop with her free hand, trying to dislodge him. His fingers slide from her wrist to grasp her hips, angling her the way he wants, and Rey starts pushing against his shoulders instead. She doesn’t want to do this. She f*cking hates him.

He’s rough again. His grip is hard and punishing and the table rocks back and forth in time with his thrusts. Rey gives up on escaping and glares at the ceiling over his shoulder instead, trying to tune out the low grunts he makes in her ear that make her stomach flip. She’s relieved when he slows—maybe he’s done—but he just straightens between her knees and pulls his co*ck from his sweatpants. Rey reddens.

“Can’t you—?” She kicks her feet when he tugs her panties down to her knees. “W-Wait—”

Her heart leaps into her throat when Kylo crowds closer. She doesn’t know what to do other than slightly shake her head, but he doesn’t try to f*ck her. He exhales as he comes on the next harsh stroke, spilling cum on Rey’s lower belly below her navel.

Kylo’s eyes flicker back and he heaves a contented sigh through his nose. Good. That’s over.

Rey swallows, averting her eyes. Good. He’ll clean her up and she’ll go take two showers, just to make sure he’s off her. Then they’ll read books or something.

Her pulse quickens when she feels Kylo’s fingers slick and sticky against her inner thigh. She pretends to ignore it, even when he trails lightly through her folds; even when he teases her entrance with the tip of his wet middle finger. Rey clenches her jaw as he pushes it inside her, burying up to the knuckle. He lingers that way. She can feel him staring.

“You shouldn’t… do that,” Rey bites, uncomfortable with the warmth in her lower belly. She keeps her jaw tight and ignores Kylo’s stare.

He’s quiet and unmoving for a minute. Then he gently presses his other hand to Rey’s inner thigh, spreading her open. She writhes as he adds another wet finger, sticky with cum, pushing deep inside her. His fingers pump slowly, and bit by bit, her hips start to roll in time with them. His thumb strokes her inner thigh in light, soft circles.

Rey tries to push against the hand on her thigh; halfheartedly tries to get free. But Kylo easily and firmly resists her movements, soothing her in a tone so low and soft she can hardly hear it. She arches off the table when she comes with a whimper, shuddering, eyes rolling.

Her heart hammers in her chest as she comes down, trying to stifle her breathing through her nose. Hostage. Hostage. She’s a hostage.

“You know how babies are made, right?” Rey hisses. She’s still exposed to him, vulnerable and helpless and trying to convince herself that she’s just trying to survive. She has to do this. “I think Missus Tico might be mad if I come back… if I’m…”

Rey trails off. Kylo stares down at her, hand still warm and steady on her inner thigh. She tries not to look away—tries to meet his gaze—and something uncomfortable creeps up her throat. He knows what she means. She knows what he’s trying to do.

She presses her lips together and doesn’t say anything more. Kylo cleans her up with his damp shirt, and he fixes her pants before helping her down from the table.

She’s nauseous. Her hands and head feel like television static; like she’s not attached to them. Like she’s just floating in her skin. She’s a hostage. She’s got to cooperate and stay alive and get back to Rose, because Kylo is lying, and Rey knows Rose is still in Germany. Of course he’s lying. He wants her to give up.

Rey glances up at Kylo, gaze passing over his bare, broad chest. “Don’t… don’t do that again. I can’t go back home like that.”

“Like what?”

The prickling in her hands and head worsens. Rey peers up at Kylo again, and he’s staring at her, like he’s daring her to say it out loud; daring her to call out what he’s doing. She imagines herself however many months pregnant, puttering around with the dogs. Her lips tingle like she’s about to faint. That can’t happen. That won’t happen. That would be the worst thing in the world.

“I love you, little one,” Kylo says, matter-of-factly, like he’s telling her it’s raining outside. He follows her as she shuffles from the kitchen. “No one will ever love you the way I do.”

Rey keeps walking, rubbing her forehead. She trudges upstairs, and though Kylo follows her to the stairs, he doesn’t walk up them. He stands at the bottom and watches her go.

| | |

Rey sleeps most of the day. She ventures downstairs for a book in the afternoon, and Kylo isn’t around, so she hangs out in the living room for a while. But she goes back up to her bedroom when she sees him coming through the sliding glass door with Hilda.

It’s not like she can avoid him forever, but she does dodge him for that day. He doesn’t come looking for her, either. He goes in and out with the dogs, working on something off by the kennel. He’s going to push himself too hard again, Rey is sure. But she doesn’t care.

She reads The Trial, even though it’s boring and confusing. Why doesn’t he have Harry Potter or something? The Hunger Games? Twilight? If they’re suggesting books to each other, she’s making him read Twilight.

Rey takes a shower after dark and scurries back to her room. She gently closes the door and climbs into bed. The book is getting better. She still doesn’t know what crime Josef committed, and she’s going to be deeply annoyed if that never comes to light. What’s the point of the book if she doesn’t know what to think of him?

Her door opens. Before Rey can pretend to be asleep, Kylo enters, hair damp from a recent shower. He closes the door softly behind him.

Rey closes her book as he approaches the bed. He pulls off his shirt and drops it on the floor. She knows how the rest of this goes. She can try to fight it if she wants to—kick her feet and mumble and recite in her head that she’s just trying to not get sold or killed. But she knows no matter what she does, Kylo isn’t going to kill or sell her. She could slap him across the face and he wouldn’t.

Her head spins with different choices she could make: get up and run, scream, really fight back and claw out his eyes. He has two big weak spots now.

Rey knows how this is going to go. It goes the same way every time. And every time, Rey is less and less sure why she’s even bothering to put up a fight at all. She’s not his f*cking girlfriend. She’s not going to have a baby with him. She’d rather die. But she has food and shelter, and it has been a long time since she and Rose were separated.

That static feeling creeps back into her fingers as Kylo climbs on top of her. What if Mrs. Tico did leave her here? What if she’s going to be here forever?

“Don’t do that—” Rey swallows, watching Kylo push down his sweatpants. “Don’t do that thing.”

He kisses her neck, rolling her skin through his teeth, pawing her pajama pants from her hips. Rey closes her eyes and wriggles slightly when her panties roll and catch on her hip. Kylo huffs against her throat, a guttural, pleased kind of sound that vibrates through her chest. He’s going to do it. Not like he ever listens to her.

He nudges the head of his co*ck through her folds. Rey squirms, digging her nails into his back as he sets a steady rhythm. Kylo mouths at her throat, distracted, shuddering when she bucks in time with his thrusts. He grabs her jaw and kisses her, and Rey kisses him back, and she angles her hips a little higher, just because it feels good; just because it makes him slip lower and press against her entrance. Kylo readjusts twice. The third time, his kisses pause, and he pushes—

Rey’s breath hitches in her throat. “W-Wait—”

“Shh.” Kylo kisses the corner of her mouth, and he cups her cheek in his palm. His voice is low and soft and soothing. “Shh.”

He’s so heavy and warm and when Rey closes her eyes, just listening to his voice, she imagines she’s being tucked in under a blanket back home. She’s in her old bed with her stuffed animals, teetering on the edge of sleep, hearing the vague sounds of Unkar shuffling around down the hall. This is all just a dream.

And it doesn’t even hurt. It’s not even scary. Kylo whispers to her as he slowly pushes inside her, thumb lightly stroking her cheek, and Rey is so thoroughly pinned that she can’t even imagine struggling. Her thighs squeeze around his hips as he fills her completely. It’s really not that bad, she tells herself, clammy and shaking from the adrenaline. Her teeth chatter and she feels like she doesn’t remember how to swallow, and when she whimpers, the pressure seems to tighten around her. It’s really not that bad.

Kylo rocks inside her, not quite thrusting. Rey paws at his hips as he starts moving, and the pressure of him inside her and on top of her and his stifled, pleasured breaths—she whimpers again, and then she gasps.

“Kylo—” Her jaw snaps shut and she whines, shaking her head. She doesn’t like this. She doesn’t like this. She hates him. “K-Kylo—”

He clenches his jaw and doesn’t move when she comes, clutching his hips and squirming down on his co*ck. It’s so sudden that Rey is left too breathless and shaky to hide it, head swimming in a haze of pleasure. Kylo breathes hard through his nose, rapid and sharp—then he grunts and starts roughly thrusting into her. Rey rocks into the pile of pillows, still clinging to his hips.

Then his breaths catch and his thrusts stagger and deepen. Kylo shudders as he comes, face buried in Rey’s neck, groaning her name. She feels him pulse inside her. He’s coming inside her. It’s too late to stop him.

Her heart is hammering after he stops, breathing hard and fast against her skin. He kisses her neck and nuzzles in again. He’s heavy and hot. Oppressive.

Rey pushes on his shoulders. “I… I need to…” She’s hyper aware of his softening co*ck still inside her, his cum trickling between her legs. “You can’t—”

Kylo grabs her throat. Rey goes still, staring at the ceiling. Her head swims. He can’t. He can’t. This isn’t the way this is supposed to work.

Kylo waits a few moments, maybe for his breathing to slow. Rey trembles as he nudges his nose against her cheek. He’s so heavy. She can’t breathe. She wants to go home. She wants to go home. She can’t go home if… She can’t go home if she’s…

“Helen Tico does not want you, Rey,” he whispers. “Rose Tico does not want you.” He traces his thumb along her lower lip as her chin quivers. “I want you.”

Rey’s eyes fill with tears. She shakes her head and sobs, and Kylo slips his hand from her throat to rest on his side. He rubs her stomach in a slow circle.

Chapter 16

Chapter Text

Rey wakes to the bedroom door opening. It’s semi-dark, bluish and cool, and for a few moments, she thinks she’s back home in her own bed, waking up on a Saturday morning. She stretches out her legs and smiles faintly to herself as she opens her eyes.

A wide shadow stands in the doorway.

Her heart skips a beat as Kylo comes into view: he’s not wearing a shirt, and his black hair is wet and slicked back against his head. He closes the door behind himself and Rey quickly squeezes her eyes shut, hoping he didn’t notice she’s awake. Maybe it will work this time.

But everything comes back to her as the bed shifts from his weight: the pulsing ache between her legs, his voice in her ear, the weight of his body on top of hers. Rey stares at the door as Kylo rolls to his side and wraps an arm around her middle. She’s naked. She barely noticed. She was so warm and comfortable and it felt like a dream—like she was just about to text Rose and see if she wanted to hang out later on. Go to the mall. Swim.

Kylo yanks her hips up into his groin. Rey startles, pulling away instinctively; grabbing the sheets and taking a sharp breath. He nudges between her legs, smelling her hair, pushing even as she recoils and squirms. He leans his upper body across her back to pin her to the bed, not saying a word, barely taking a breath.

Rey breathes hard. Her eyes are wide, heart hammering. She’s still a little wet, and it’s enough for him.

She can’t do anything about it. She can only lay there, frantic and terrified and panting as Kylo pushes inside her. It stings slightly and she flinches, jerking against his immovable broad chest. His skin is hot and damp, firm, and his co*ck feels like it’s a thousand degrees. Her ears are ringing. This can’t be happening again.

All she hears are his stifled breaths in her hair. Kylo grasps her hip and f*cks her slower than he did before, and he pauses a couple times, like he’s trying not to come. He smooths Rey’s hair away from her face and kisses the corner of her mouth, and lazily kisses her cheek and temple and down to her throat. She fists the sheets. She squeezes her eyes shut and huffs through her teeth, trying to ignore how he’s rocking steadily inside her; trying to angle her knee up and push him off.

But there isn’t anywhere for her to go. Rey focuses on her breathing, chin quivering as Kylo winds his hand between her thighs. It’s okay. It’s not that bad.

It’s over soon enough, but Kylo lingers, running his hand along her body, smelling her hair. Rey remains very still as he leans across her to open the nightstand drawer. He slips his other arm beneath her, rolling her back against his chest, then he takes her trembling hand fisting the sheets.

He pushes the ring on her finger. It scratches her skin, twisting and biting her flesh as he secures it down by her knuckle. Rey stares straight ahead, flinching when Kylo nuzzles her temple with the tip of his nose. His big, warm hand gently closes around her fist, and he presses a kiss to her knuckles.

It’s a little difficult getting out of bed, with her shaking legs but Rey manages. The dogs are waiting outside the bedroom door, ears pricked, tilting their heads as Rey hobbles into the hall with Kylo’s help. She stops in the bathroom to brush her teeth and get cleaned up, and after she feels better; less cold and clammy. She’s able to walk downstairs by herself.

In the kitchen, Kylo pulls out a chair for her before he starts breakfast. They have oatmeal and eggs and fruit. Rey is able to eat a few bites.

She sits silently in her chair, staring out the window over the sink. Helmut rests his head in her lap and sighs.

“I have business at the border for several weeks.”

Rey turns her head slowly to look at Kylo. He’s not looking at her, but scraping his spoon in his bowl, finishing the rest of his oatmeal. He glances at her as he takes the last bite. His bullet wounds are patched up, but red persists around the white border of the bandages.

“Okay,” Rey says.

“You will come.” Kylo gathers their bowls and stands, still talking as he turns away. “You will have accommodations separate from the girls.”

Her heart sinks into her stomach. They’re going back to the compound? Which one? Does she really have to go?

“I can stay here,” Rey suggests, raspy. She swallows, twiddling her thumbs, watching Kylo’s back as he turns on the water to rinse the bowls. “I can feed the dogs and—”

“You will come.”

She can’t go back to that place. Her head aches thinking of the things she saw and heard: the sobbing and the blood and Kylo’s cold, heavy gun on her stomach. Rey wants to cry just thinking about it.

“You need to recuperate.” She’ll try a different angle. “You just got shot.”

“I am well enough to travel. We will return in time for Bella’s puppies to be born.”

“Can’t I just stay here? Should the dogs really be alone again for that long? We just got back—”

“You will come.”

Rey stands up abruptly, slamming both hands on the table. Kylo regards her, but only just so, turning at his waist, gaze flickering up and down her body with cool indifference. The water keeps running.

“I’m staying here,” she snaps.

He raises his eyebrows. Rey clenches her jaw as Kylo shuts off the water and dries his hands.

“You will come,” he repeats. He hangs the towel back over the handlebar of the oven, once again not looking at Rey. “And you will behave.”

Anger spikes in her belly, hot and sharp. Rey grabs the small salt shaker in the middle of the table and hurls it at Kylo’s broad back.

It glances off him and clatters to the floor. He turns fully this time, expression blank as he looks down at the white shaker on the floor. Heart pounding, nauseous from anxiety, Rey snatches up the pepper shaker.

“You will regret it,” Kylo says.

She throws it anyway.

He blocks it with his forearm so it doesn’t hit him in the face. Rey turns tail and runs, and she makes it out to the living room before Kylo seizes her by the upper arm. She twists around, lashing out hysterically with her feet and free hand, kicking and flailing until she falls to the floor behind the couch. It’s not going to help her situation, she knows—but she can’t go back to that place. She can’t.

“I’m not going—” Rey kicks her feet against Kylo’s shins. “I’m not going—you can’t make me!”

“You will come. And you will behave—” He grabs her forearm and hauls her up from the floor, and she shrieks, twisting around. “Or you will spend your time chained to a wall in the cellar.”

Rey bursts into tears, shaking her head. Kylo’s grip on her loosens, then he releases, easing her to the floor. She sobs as she rolls to her side between his feet.

Kylo huffs. He doesn’t speak, and Rey cries and cries, too angry and scared to do anything else. She can’t go back there. She can’t be in that basem*nt again. She can feel the dank, musty cold on her skin; taste the freeze-dried food on her tongue. She can’t go back there.

“If you behave, I will allow you to speak to Rose Tico.”

Rey stops crying. She peers up at Kylo, sniffling. He has his hands on his hips and his jaw is shifting from side to side like he’s uncomfortable. He gives her an imploring raise of his eyebrows: take it or leave it.

“When?” Rey rasps.

“Next week. I must make arrangements.”

Why can’t she just talk to her now? Why does he need an entire week to set it up? Rey nods anyway, desperate to hear Rose’s voice and know she’s okay. She’s desperate to hear a friendly voice in general.

Kylo helps Rey up. She spins the ring around her finger while he finds her a book to read, and, true to her word, she doesn’t complain about it. He goes to let the dogs out and Rey leans back, craning her neck to watch them disappear through the sliding door.

She sets down her book on her lap and rubs her eyes with two fists, sniffling and hiccuping pitifully. It will be nice to talk to Rose. Maybe she can talk to Mrs. Tico, too, since Rose is home now. She’ll tell her she’s not mad—she knows she did the best she could.

Rey sniffles again as she picks up her book. She’s sure Mrs. Tico did the best she could.

Kylo returns a few minutes later with the dogs in tow. Hilda plants herself at the other side of the couch to watch Rey while he goes upstairs, presumably to put a shirt and real pants on. Helmut lays on the floor by Rey’s feet and heaves a big sigh. Rey toys with the edge of her book—she’s not really reading it and has barely any idea what it’s about—watching the stairs, debating following Kylo. She could try to plead her case again.

She looks down at her book, cold creeping into her fingertips. Maybe it’s better if she just goes. Like Kylo said, she’ll have her own room. She won’t see much.

He comes downstairs dressed in a shirt and jeans. Kylo takes a seat in the chair and either doesn’t notice or just doesn’t bother acknowledging Rey staring at him. She wants to make sure she won’t… see anything. Or hear anything. But she doesn’t want to piss him off, either.

Before she can summon up the courage to say something, someone knocks on the door.

Kylo glares at it. He huffs as he gets up, and Hilda obediently follows him to the door. Helmut lifts his head but isn’t interested enough to stand up. Words in German are exchanged, and Kylo takes a slight step back to allow someone inside.

Rey scowls as Hux enters the house, tailed by another enormous goon. He plucks off his sunglasses and grins when he spots Rey as Kylo closes the door.

“I wondered why you’ve been so distracted,” Hux says. His gaze wanders to Kylo and he only pretends to lower his voice. “You are enjoying your investment, then?”

Rey’s scowl fades. Kylo casts her a sideways glance, and coupled with Hux’s smarmy grin, she turns away to face the fireplace, embarrassed. She opens her book and resumes reading, but the words float straight through her brain as she listens to the conversation behind her.

“The Russians were not pleased to see me,” Kylo snaps. “They claim you did not send their money.”

“Oh, I may have forgotten.”

“I was shot.”

“You’re alive, aren’t you?” Hux responds, bored, irritated. “And we’ve already retaliated and dispatched Pietro. You’re welcome.”

Kylo replies in harsh, furious German. Rey doesn’t know German curse words, but she’s pretty sure he throws a couple in. Hux still sounds bored and annoyed, and he wanders towards Rey, steps lighter and more measured than Kylo’s. She stiffens as he circles the couch. His cologne smells like sharp, cloying aftershave.

Hux sits at the other end of the couch. He extends an arm over the back, placing an elbow on the armrest to balance his cheek and jaw on two graceful fingers while Kylo continues to berate him.

“You’re needed by the border, regardless,” Hux interrupts. He casts a sly smile to Rey. “We have assets to move.”

“He’s injured,” Rey retorts. Her anger comes on suddenly, and even she’s surprised that she speaks. Hux raises his eyebrows. “He needs to rest.”

“I’m sure he isn’t getting much rest with you around, now is he?”

Warmth creeps into Rey’s cheeks. She glances at Kylo, and he has his jaw clenched, hands on his hips. Hux keeps his eyebrows raised and his smug smile widens. No one speaks for an awkward minute.

Hux moves first, clicking his tongue. “And what is this, hm? Something sparkly?” Rey recoils when he reaches over to touch the ring on her finger. Hux laughs, readjusting with an elbow on the armrest, then looking up at Kylo. “You’re bringing it gifts?”

Kylo doesn’t answer. His expression is blank and unreadable and terrifying, and his knuckles are white on his hips. He stares at Hux, who stares back, smiling. Rey looks between them, heart pounding, hand cupped around her ring.

“You have a job to do, Ren,” Hux murmurs. “And if you fail to do so, your new little toy will be taken away.”

Kylo has his gun brandished in the blink of an eye. The bodyguard by the door takes out his, but by then, Kylo has the gun pressed against Hux’s forehead. Rey wedges herself into the corner of the couch, eyes wide.

Kylo pushes hard, forcing Hux’s head back against the couch. Hux raises his hands and closes his eyes, still smiling, still unconcerned.

“Rey will not be touched,” Kylo says, cold, unwavering.

“I am simply communicating—”

The gun co*cks. Hux’s smile disappears, Adam’s apple bobbing.

“Fine, fine!” he snaps. “Pursue whatever delusions you wish. But do not let them become a distraction, Ren. You are bound to your contract.”

Kylo withdraws his weapon. Hux glares as he gets up and brushes off his jacket. The goon puts his gun away and he and Hux leave without another word.

Rey looks over her shoulder at the door, trembling, wondering if they’ll come back. Kylo stashes his gun and returns to his chair, opening his book like nothing happened. Hilda clicks over to his side and sits by the table. Helmut lays down again.

It takes a couple minutes for Rey to turn around. She picks up her book and opens it, but the words swim and blur and she can’t comprehend them.

She lowers her book, staring at the empty fireplace. Words churn up her throat. Time ticks by, and she struggles to find the courage to ask:

“How much did you pay for me?”

A page turns. Kylo doesn’t answer, and Rey risks looking at him. He isn’t looking at her.

“Have there been… others?” she croaks. That’s what she’s really worried about. That’s what she really wants to know. If he’s done this before; if he’s a serial sad*st and she might wind up dead no matter how well she behaves.

“No.”

Rey exhales the breath she’s been unwittingly holding. Okay. Good. At least there’s that. She swallows, settling back again with her book. That’s good.

“You are my first.”

Now Kylo’s dark eyes are on her. Rey nods hesitantly, kind of confused because he just told her that.

“Okay,” she says. “That’s—”

“In all things.”

She frowns and starts to ask what he means—but Kylo raises his eyebrows, and the implication is obvious. Oh. In all things.

“Oh,” Rey says out loud. She shrugs, sheepish. “Me too.”

Kylo nods and drifts back to reading. Rey is incredulous. Isn’t he in his thirties? Doesn’t be traffic women for a living? How is it possible that he’s never… indulged?

But it’s comforting in a strange sort of way. She’s not another notch in his bedpost. He doesn’t do this kind of thing—ever. She’s special to him.

Rey clears her throat, shifting in her spot. Not that she cares. Not that she wants to be.

He can drop dead for all she cares.

Chapter 17

Chapter Text

Rey keeps reminding herself, while she sits in the passenger seat of Kylo’s car, staring out the window: if she behaves, she gets to talk to Rose.

He doesn’t hide where they’re going this time. There isn’t a bag over her head or a blind over her eyes. Rey is able to see the roads and exits, and Kylo doesn’t seem even slightly concerned that she might take off when he stops for gas. She sits silently in her seat, twiddling her thumbs. Hilda and Helmut are in the back, equally as obedient.

They pull down a network of unpaved side roads, rattling over potholes and rocks and dodging trees. Rey wonders if maybe he let her see everything because he doesn’t intend on letting her leave the compound. She glances at Kylo from the corner of her eye. Unlikely. He wants her to come everywhere with him now. Maybe he trusts her—or he just knows she’s too much of a coward to run away from him.

Her heart hammers when they pull up to the compound. It’s a miserable-looking building, gray and crumbling with thick black bars guarding all the windows. Cars are parked outside, from rickety old rust buckets to new luxury SUVs. She doesn’t remember there being so many cars.

Kylo gets out first. Rey waits, and he circles around to open her door. He lifts her out and sets her on the grass, planting a light kiss on top of her head before he lets the dogs out of the back seat. Rey stands there with her arms folded over her chest, waiting while he gets their bags.

They enter up the concrete stairs and into the big front room. Hilda and Helmut stay outside.

“Hux is waiting,” Kylo says. He gestures to the black stairs off to the side, where Rey tried and failed to run away some weeks or months ago. “Up.”

She walks up the stairs to the second floor. Kylo leads her down the hall to an unfamiliar room, bigger than the one she remembers, but still will bars across the window. He drops their bags next to the dresser and beckons for Rey to follow.

Downstairs they go, then through another door, down a hidden set of stairs. Rey’s pulse picks up as they enter a dark, musty basem*nt, where she hears indistinct sobbing and moaning echoing off the cold walls. Kylo follows behind her, and when she stops at the last stair, he gives her a light push at the middle of her back. Rey teeters forward. He passes her, and she hurries to catch up.

Fluorescent lights line the hallway, illuminating rows of concrete and steel cages with wire roofs. Rey pads quickly after Kylo as he heads toward two figures. This is worse than upstairs. She tries not to look; tries to avoid meeting the eyes of the women and girls lying on dirty mattresses in each cage. There isn’t anything she can do to help them.

Hux has an elbow resting on the edge of a cage with an open door. Raoul stands beside him, thick arms crossed over his chest.

“So nice to see you two again,” Hux says, breaking into a smile. His sunglasses are on top of his head, glinting in the low light. “I trust your journey here was enjoyable?”

Kylo responds in German. Rey hates looking at Hux, so her gaze wanders away, over the low wall of the cage. Inside is a young girl, probably no older than thirteen. She’s on her stomach, pink shorts and tank top askew. Nausea rises in Rey’s guts. She averts her eyes and rocks back a step away from Kylo.

Something tugs the hem of her shirt.

Rey glances down, fearful at first—then she sees wide blue eyes staring at her through bars, and a grimy, petite hand reached out toward her. Her blonde hair is matted and tangled and there’s a weird smell about her; like rot, like a festering wound.

“Help,” the woman whispers. She rolls her cracked, bleeding lips, voice wavering. “Please h-help me. Please.”

Rey isn’t sure what to do. She stares back at the woman, ashamed by how repulsed and scared of her she is; ashamed that she feels like she’s looking at a wild animal. The woman reaches out to tug her shirt again and Rey takes a sharp step away, bumping into Kylo.

“Making new friends, Rey?” Hux asks with a laugh. The hand swiftly withdraws as Hux shrugs off the wall. “Oh, not fast enough, Mia. What have I told you about reaching your hands outside your kennel?”

Hux makes a gesture with two fingers. Kylo gently pushes Rey back as Raoul passes them and enters the cage.

Mia screams. Rey sees her scramble away, kicking and thrashing as Raoul seizes her by the hair. He forces her down to the mattress and Rey peels her eyes away from the scene, but she still hears it: Mia’s gurgling wails, Raoul’s low, stifled grunt. Mia breathes hard and fast and it’s muffled and choking and Rey knows exactly what’s happening. Her ears ring.

“It’s going to be a bit challenging this go around,” Hux says. His voice sounds far away. “Just you and two others.”

Rey can’t help it: she looks at the cell, and she sees Raoul moving, and she hears Mia choking. Her ears ring louder and louder and she grabs weakly at Kylo’s arm before she faints.

She’s pretty sure he catches her.

| | |

Rey wakes in a bed with a splitting headache. She winces as she turns over beneath the wrinkled sheets, cupping her forehead, pain pulsing behind her eyes. It’s quiet. Dark. How long has she been unconscious?

She sits up almost all the way before she notices Kylo sitting in a chair by the door, hands folded in his lap. His expression is blank. He’s staring at her, unmoving and unblinking, shrouded in shadow.

A wave of nausea passes through Rey at the echoed memory of Mia shrieking and Raoul grunting. She shudders, covering her mouth.

“I have to get out of here,” she mumbles. She sits all the way up and throws back the sheets. “I have to get out of here.”

Kylo watches her swing her legs over the side of the bed. She hesitates. It’s cold, and he’s blocking her exit. And Rey knows he won’t let her leave.

Tears well up in her eyes. Kylo continues to stare back at her, utterly impassive.

“I can’t stay here,” she says, voice cracking. “I’m sorry. I have to—”

“If a wolf kills a sheep, has the wolf committed a sin?”

Rey rolls her lips as the tears run down her cheeks. Her chin quivers and she shakes her head, brow furrowing.

“Wh-What…?” She rubs her nose with the back of her hand and sobs. “What do you…?”

“If a wolf kills a sheep,” Kylo repeats, patient, calm, “has the wolf committed a sin?”

“They’re not sheep!” Rey hisses. “They’re people! They have families and children and—” She starts to put a foot on the floor. “I can’t stay here. I can’t stay here.”

Kylo stands. It’s not sharp or sudden, but slow and menacing, drawing him to his full height before Rey. She draws her foot back from the floor and goes as still as she can manage while crying. She clings to the edge of the bed, trembling, revolted and terrified.

“I can’t stay here,” she sobs, shaking her head. Kylo ambles closer and she bows her head. “I can’t stay here—I can’t—”

She can’t breathe. Rey struggles to get a hold of herself, hyperventilating, head swimming as Kylo comes to kneel before her. He takes her hands in his and squeezes, shushing her softly, dark eyes trained on hers. It’s like an eternity passes that way. She clings to Kylo’s warm fingers as the dizziness and nausea ebb through her, and her teeth chatter, and her chest aches. She can’t stay here. She can’t stay here.

These women aren’t sheep. They aren’t product. They’re real people, just like her, with families and homes. They aren’t animals to be hunted and fed upon.

Kylo waits patiently until Rey’s sobs die down. She sits there, slouched over, eyes swollen. Her clammy, shaking hands clutch his. She can’t let go. She might float away.

“If a wolf kills a sheep,” Kylo asks, gently, “has the wolf committed a sin?” She starts to shake her head and recoil, crying again, and he shushes her, holding her hands tight. “Does the wolf not deserve to feed?”

“Stop—stop—”

“They are not like you and I, little one. They exist to be consumed.”

“I hate you!” Rey spits. She yanks on his hands, trying to free herself. “I hate you!”

She lashes out with her feet, and Kylo grabs her ankles. She keeps trying to kick, uselessly lifting and pushing her knees, then finding a foothold on his ribs as he stands. He ignores her thrashing, big fingers hooking over the hem of her leggings, roughly yanking them down off her hips. Rey shrieks and kicks him hard in the stomach and he drapes his big, heavy body across hers.

“Get off me!” she screams. She bites his shoulder when it comes in range.

Kylo draws back with a surprised grunt. Rey grapples with his throat, clawing with both hands, not quite able to reach his face. He scoops her up and drops her in the center of the bed as he gets a knee up on the mattress, turning his head to avoid her scratching nails. He buries his face in her neck while she continues to frantically kick and shriek, digging her fingers into his soft sides as he yanks down her leggings. His breaths are at least harsher—he breathes hard through his nose against her neck, like he’s struggling to restrain her.

Rey keeps fighting even when Kylo unzips his jeans, and when he roughly pushes inside her, shuddering with pleasure, she doesn’t do anything at all. Her hips crumple from the force of his thrust, burying his co*ck deep inside her, drawing a soft, relieved breath from him. She flinches, tears coming back all over again.

Kylo mouths at her throat, lips wet and hot. “I love you,” he breathes, all at once, just for her, earnest and reverent. He starts biting and huffing, eagerly thrusting. “I love you.”

Rey pushes her feet against his calves, squirming, then sobbing again. “Get off me,” she pleads. She twists away from his roaming lips at the corner of her mouth. “Get away from m-me!”

“I love you. I love you.”

He keeps repeating it, whispering, panting, nudging into her neck and her hair and her jaw, letting the words pour down her ear like acid: I love you, little one. Rey desperately struggles; desperately tries to ignore it. But he just keeps repeating himself until she’s in hysterics. She hates him. She hates this awful place. She isn’t his girlfriend—she isn’t anything to him. She’s a captive. She’s a hostage.

But it wears on her. It hurts more than she expects it to. And it makes her so tired, crying and begging, that she just decides to stop, and she lays there quietly, eyes wide, trembling. She can’t listen to it anymore. She wants it to be over. She wants to go back to sleep.

Kylo kisses her, and his tongue traces the seam of her lips. Rey whimpers, but she’s too exhausted to resist. She lets him in, and he cups her cheek and teases her tongue, and she finds herself kissing him back. He rocks his hips in shallow, light circles, and she tentatively rocks against him, new warmth creeping in where her energy has been sapped out.

He trails kisses up her temple and nuzzles her hair. Rey clings to Kylo’s shirt at his hips and she buries her face into his collarbone, squirming now, puffing lightly. He’s still, but his arm is curled up by her head, and she feels him gently petting her hair.

It’s not that bad, really. Rey’s eyes roll back and she shivers as she comes, easing the tension in her muscles, washing away her anxiety. Kylo kisses her face during the comedown, humming while she pants and shakes and her eyes flutter shut. It’s not even bad, really. It’s not like he’s hurting her. She gets in her head about it. She just needs to relax.

Maybe he does love her. She entertains the possibility with his soft groans in her ear and his hips thrusting roughly between her trembling thighs. He bought her. He saved her. Without him, she’d probably be dead.

And he said she was his first. She’s the only one that’s been good enough for him. Maybe she is special. Different.

Rey clutches Kylo’s shoulder blades, mouth pressed against his shoulder as he comes inside her. Her heart makes a panicked flutter but she doesn’t say anything, even when he’s still and sated and catching his breath in her hair, even when she feels his cum trickling between her legs.

And in hindsight, those noises Mia made actually sounded a lot more like moans.

Chapter 18

Chapter Text

Rey sleeps all through the night, and when she wakes after the sun is up, she goes back to sleep. She only rises when the sun is high in the sky, just to shuffle to the closet-sized attached bath.

There isn’t a mirror for her to study her reflection in—no way to verify that she’s actually here. Rey stands quietly in the threshold, staring straight ahead at the door on the other side of the room, watching the sunlight slowly move along the peeling white wall. She could be anywhere. She could be a million miles away.

Someone knocks softly on the door. Rey’s gaze wanders to the window as the door opens. Her legs are sore. How long has she been standing?

Kylo has a tray of food. He sets it aside on the nightstand and adjusts it once or twice until it’s in the exact position he wants. Rey feels his eyes on her as he turns and grasps the door handle. She doesn’t look at him. She stares out the window, and a bird flies by.

His hand slides from the door. Rey remains still and silent as he approaches with slow, uncertain steps, then pauses a foot away. He seems to have a short internal debate—at least, she assumes that’s why he hesitates. Her jaw tenses as Kylo brushes his fingertips along her temple and through her hair to curl it behind her ear.

The need to retaliate—the need to make him hurt—comes over her like a flash of lightning. She bites him.

Kylo seizes her face, fingers pressed hard into her cheeks, palm over her mouth. Rey huffs and grabs his wrist with both hands, flustered. He holds her like that for a few humiliating seconds before he lets go.

Rey stumbles a step. She rubs her jaw, blood burning. She wants to punch him. She wants to kill him.

He curls her hair behind her ear again, and she bites again, and he grabs her face again. He holds slightly longer this time, and she’s furious when he lets go. It prickles under her skin and knots in her chest and burns up into her throat. She’s never really hated anyone until now—she’s thought she’s hated people, but she’s realizing that she’s never really hated anyone until now.

Kylo pauses before his next attempt. Rey swallows as his fingers graze the shell of her ear and trail down the edge of her jaw. She doesn’t budge. Doesn’t flinch.

His hand slips away, and he leaves without a word. Rey remains where she is as he closes and locks the door. She doesn’t budge. Doesn’t flinch.

| | |

When Rey wakes again, nighttime has come again. Her room is blanketed in darkness, and she hears the distant sound of barking dogs, somewhere far off, maybe hunting. Her eyes flutter closed. She’s lying on her stomach and she’s somewhat comfortable for once. She’ll just go back to—

“You did not eat your supper.”

She blinks, then rolls sharply to her side to look behind her. Kylo is examining the untouched tray on the nightstand, lifting the lid of the plate cover with the tip of his nail. He’s wearing all black.

“I wasn’t hungry,” Rey rasps.

He lets the lid fall back in place. Kylo picks up an apple resting against the lip of the tray and lightly tosses it to Rey.

“Eat,” he says. “Then you will get dressed.”

“For what?”

He picks up the tray and leaves. She scowls.

Rey takes a few small bites of the apple, because she probably should eat, but it tastes terrible, and she struggles to swallow any of it. She sets it on the nightstand just as Kylo comes back. Just her f*cking luck. He looks right at it, too, like he knew she would barely touch the stupid thing; like he’s looking for an excuse to torment her.

Her queasy stomach flutters uneasily as he picks up the apple and takes a bite. He holds it in his teeth, snapping his fingers and gesturing for her to stand up.

Rey stands. She doesn’t resist while Kylo undresses her, peeling off her leggings and his oversized shirt he gave her the night before. Her nausea intensifies as she clings to his back to keep from falling over while he pulls her leggings off her ankles. It wasn’t that bad. Everything seems worse in hindsight. It wasn’t that bad.

Her thoughts start to drift to Mia and cells and basem*nts and blood, and Rey clears her throat.

“Where have you…?” She clears her throat again, voice strained. “Where were you today?”

Kylo takes another bite of the apple and offers an untouched spot to Rey. She hesitates before she takes a small bite.

“Working,” he replies, then puts the apple between his teeth again. He opens a drawer of the nightstand and takes out a black dress, tights, and underwear, which he piles on the bed.

“Tutoring orphans?” Rey croaks, unmoving, but trying to smile.

Kylo bites the apple again, staring down at her. Rey’s smile wanes. He chews, jaw shifting slowly. Her stomach starts to churn.

But he just reaches out with his free hand to curl her hair behind her ear: gently, tenderly. Rey tries not to show any emotion. She swallows down the knot in her throat as his long fingers trace the shell of her ear and then tug very lightly on her earlobe.

“Your ears are not pierced,” Kylo says.

“I don’t wear a lot of jewelry.”

He doesn’t respond. He finishes the apple in one more bite.

After Rey is dressed, she’s led outside to one of the black SUVs. Hux is leaning against it, also dressed in black, grinning bright white in the darkness.

Rey isn’t sure where they’re going, and she doesn’t care to ask. Hux sits in the passenger seat with her and Kylo in the back, and one of the many goons is in the driver’s seat. Rey stares out the window while Hux goes on about something in German and Kylo occasionally mutters something in return. It seems like a boring conversation.

The SUV stops in an alley. Kylo and Hux get out, and Rey waits, twiddling her thumbs, until Kylo opens her door.

“It would be simple, is all I’m saying,” Hux says, continuing the conversation in English. He lights a cigarette while Kylo helps Rey step out of the SUV, and his voice is muffled. “They aren’t very smart.”

They’re behind a building with two security guards before a black door, and Rey feels music pounding through the pavement. It isn’t the place where she and Rose were kidnapped, but she knows it must be a club. Rey frowns slightly as the SUV pulls away. Why would they bring her here?

Kylo lights a cigarette, too, and Rey takes the opportunity to look around, rolling her ankle a bit to tilt her heel, hoping she looks casual. It’s definitely a different place. Bigger. Her pulse pounds as she scans the alleyway and trails up to an open window with a light on across the street. Maybe they could hear her. Or see her.

Or maybe she’s lucky to be out of that place. Maybe she should enjoy her night of freedom. Maybe it will be fun.

Rey glances surreptitiously at Kylo while he smokes, nodding along with clear disinterest to whatever Hux is saying. He exhales into the breeze and meets her gaze, and when her heart flutters, thoughts spiraling to him inside her, whispering in her ear, Rey quickly looks away.

It’s not as crowded or loud inside as Rey had dreaded, and this time, they sit at a small table instead of wandering around. She gratefully slides into the booth with Kylo, and Hux sits at the other side, where he has a better view of the enormous room. People mill around with drinks, and there’s dancing somewhere in the corner of Rey’s eye, hopefully far away and not in her future. She can sit. It’s just nice to be out.

Someone brings a clear drink in a tumbler to the table. Kylo leans forward and slides it to Rey, then puts an arm around her shoulders. It’s alcohol, she’s sure. Could even be drugged.

She stares into the fizzy drink. Could make her pass out.

Slowly, mechanically, Rey lifts her hands from her lap and draws the glass closer to herself. She takes a tiny sip through the tiny black straw.

Hux and Kylo don’t have drinks. Hux is turned, one arm on the table, the other over the back of the booth. It looks like he’s searching for someone, and as Rey sips her drink, she glances up at Kylo and notices he’s doing the same thing. She squints into the crowd. What are they looking for?

No answers are forthcoming. They sit in silence for a long time while Rey nurses her drink and tries to hazard a guess at what’s going on. People-watching? This is what they do for fun? Trying to psych her out? Drug deal? She knows there’s no point in asking.

Hux’s roaming gaze suddenly stops. A smile spreads across his face and he gets up from the booth. Rey frowns, craning her neck to see where he’s going and what he’s doing.

“Finish your drink.”

Kylo’s voice is in her ear, gentle, easily heard even over the loud music. Rey doesn’t take her eyes off Hux as she turns her chin a few centimeters towards Kylo to respond, and he dips his head closer to hear her.

“It tastes like battery acid,” she says, not so easily heard over the noise. She slips a hand beneath the table and pushes on his thigh to adjust herself, stretching a bit to keep track of Hux. “Where’s he going?”

Rey stills as Kylo cups the side of her head: firm, but not rough, touching the side of her head to his cheek. It’s almost affectionate, she thinks, especially when he murmurs to her in a patient, low voice.

“It will help you relax.” He strokes her hair with long, lazy movements of his fingers, and Rey shudders. “Things will be more enjoyable for you if you are relaxed.”

Things. Rey presses her lips into a tight line as her hands squeeze around the small glass, making the surface of the drink shiver. Things. She would have confronted him on that two weeks ago—Why are you being so coy all of a sudden?

But the thought of Kylo uttering out loud what he’s doing to her—what she let him do to her—is terrifying. Rey drinks her drink.

She notices Hux across the room, seated at the bar beside a short woman with dark hair. They’re chatting, both all smiles. Rey furrows her brow and pauses, peering up at Kylo, curious.

“Who is she?” Rey asks, raising her voice above the din.

Kylo doesn’t answer. He’s watching Hux, too. Unnerved, Rey returns to her steady sipping.

She’s warmer, muscles a little looser than when she walked in, but she’s still uneasy about Hux. She watches him and the woman for a while, and eventually, he makes a gesture towards the table.

She looks their way: she’s beautiful, with high cheekbones and large, dark eyes. Rey waves instinctively, and the woman smiles and waves back. She seems nice. What horrible line of business could she be in?

Hux guides the woman to the table with a hand on the small of her back. She’s clutching a small folded black bag in her hands, smiling as she approaches, but she seems uneasy. Maybe she’s new. Maybe she’s never met Hux or Kylo in person before. That may be why they brought Rey along—not that she’s very good at putting people at ease.

“This is Sophie,” Hux says, motioning for the woman to have a seat. He gestures to Rey and Kylo as he sits beside her. “Sophie, this is my friend Jack and his wife, Kira.”

Rey blinks. Sophie beams.

“Hi there!” She sounds American. She has a vague Southern drawl. “So nice to meet you.” Sophie motions to the ceiling, wincing. “So loud in here, isn’t it?”

A waiter drops off two drinks. Kylo slides one towards Rey and Hux casually rests an elbow on the table, partially blocking Sophie from their view.

“Your accent is so interesting,” Hux says. He tilts his head, and Sophie’s smiling face disappears. “Where were you from again?”

“Um, I’m from Mississippi? But I grew up in Pennsylvania, so…”

Rey peels her gaze away, confused, frowning. She isn’t sure what’s going on—but when she glances to her right, hoping Kylo might offer some explanation, she sees him drop a tiny white pill into the drink in front of her. It dissolves almost instantly, fading into the carbonation bubbles.

Kylo swaps the two drinks, pushing one towards Hux, who half-turns to draw it around and in front of Sophie. Bewildered, Rey looks again up at Kylo in search of answers. What did he just do? Who is she? Why aren’t they using their real names?

“…and I really want to be a doctor, I think. But you have to take all these tests, and y’know, I just think that stuff is hard.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’re more than capable,” Hux says. He nudges the drink towards Sophie, who brightens and picks it up. “You seem like a very intelligent woman.”

“Thank you! I feel like people don’t take me seriously here because of my accent. But it’s just the way I talk, you know?”

Rey sits a little straighter when Sophie sips the drink. Wait a second—

A big, warm hand settles on Rey’s thigh under the table. She stares at Hux and Sophie while they laugh during their conversation, and her chest tightens, nausea creeping into her guts. They’re going to take her. She’s just a regular person, not one of them. They brought Rey along as a prop. She’s just here to put her at ease. They’re going to drug her and kidnap her.

Rey stares at the strange woman’s face, and the music slows, contorted, eerie. They’re going to take her.

“Hey!” Rey exclaims, practically jumping out of her seat. Hux and Sophie look her way, and Kylo tightens his grip on her thigh. “I, um… I have to use the restroom. Sophie, would you mind coming with?”

“I will show you to the restroom,” Kylo says.

“Oh, no, I’ll go!” Sophie takes another long drink from her glass as she gets up. “We’ll be right back.”

“Don’t take too long,” Hux says, smiling at Sophie. It disappears as Rey passes him, and she doesn’t dare look at Kylo.

Rey’s blood roars in her ears as they wander into the crowd. Sophie follows her, making small talk.

“Are you from the States, too?” Sophie calls. She pauses, apologizing as they squeeze between two people. “Do you go to college someplace? I’m on a break right now while I try to figure out what I want to do…”

Rey doesn’t answer. She can’t even pretend to lie, so she just doesn’t say anything. It feels like the room is pressing in on her; dark and heavy, air too thick to breathe. She pauses to catch her breath and look around: and over the sea of heads, she spies a sign for the bathroom not too far to their left.

Sophie tugs down the hem of her dress, huffing and apologizing. She supports herself on Rey’s shoulder.

“Sorry!” she sighs. “This looked cuter in the store than it does in real life.” She beams and looks back over her shoulder. “Have you known Hux for a long time? He seems so interesting.”

Rey scans the crowd. Her heart leaps in her throat when she spots Kylo dead ahead, just standing there, staring at her. Just like that night.

“Um…” Rey swallows, trying not to panic, trying to resist the cold terror crawling into her chest. “We’re almost there, if you don’t mind?”

“Oh, sorry! Sorry.” Sophie laughs and throws her silky dark hair over her shoulder. “Such a klutz, ugh.”

They make it to the bathrooms. Rey holds the door open for Sophie, who staggers in a few steps behind, laughing when the door almost hits her in the face.

“Whoops!” She laughs again, shaking her head. “I swear, you can’t take me anywhere.”

Rey crosses her arms over her chest, then she starts chewing her nails, breaking out in a cold, clammy sweat. Just tell her. Tell her the drink was drugged. Tell her she should go home. Tell someone else, even. Just tell someone something.

Rey’s gaze flickers sharply to Sophie as she staggers to a sink. It must be affecting her already, whatever it is: she grabs the edge of the sink with both hands, clinking her pink nails against the porcelain. She manages to straighten up to fix her hair, still smiling, still clueless, tan cheeks flushing pink.

She didn’t even hesitate—she didn’t bother to check the drink. Rey clenches her jaw, staring as Sophie combs her fingers through her hair. She wasn’t careful. She didn’t pay any attention. And even though Rey paid attention—even though she was so careful, and she did everything she should have, and she tried to protect Rose, and she took pictures and sent texts and stayed vigilant—she isn’t going to be able to leave.

Rey’s chin quivers, tears threatening to well up in her eyes. Why does everyone get to go home except her? Rose got to go home. Sophie gets to go home. They were both f*cking careless and stupid and annoying, and they get to go home. Rey paid attention. Rey tried to be a cooperative captive. And now she has to—now she’s going to go back to that awful place and that awful room and feel those awful, confusing, terrifying things, and she’ll just be a footnote in Sophie’s life; some tale of caution she’ll barely be able to remember.

Sophie rubs her forehead, slouching over the sink. “Ugh… I think it’s too hot in here.” She huffs, and her doleful eyes meet Rey’s in the mirror. “Are you hot?”

Rey shakes her head tentatively. Sophie’s eyebrows draw together in vague confusion. She groans and rubs her eyes.

“I’m gonna sit for a sec,” she mumbles. She teeters away from the sink to the wall behind the door, and she slides down it to the floor. “I’m gonna… sit.”

Tears roll down Rey’s cheeks as she watches Sophie’s eyes flutter shut, and a small sob comes when her head lolls to the side and she goes still. It isn’t fair. This isn’t fair. She just wants it to be fair for once.

Rey chews her nails, cheeks wet with tears, terror twisted in her throat. She isn’t sure what to do—where to go, or who to talk to, or what to think. She’s doing something wrong, she knows. It burns. It hurts.

She stifles another sob and walks woodenly to the bathroom door, stepping over Sophie’s feet along the way. She pushes the door open with her shoulder and is stunned for a minute by the music and the vibrations, and it reminds her of that night, realizing she failed to protect Rose, and that dread when she saw Kylo staring at her over the crowd, bathed in menacing red light—

“Little one.”

His voice carries above the noise. Rey stares dead ahead at nothing at all, unblinking, bewildered, sheltered against the wall. She did everything right. How could this happen?

Kylo places a hand between her shoulder blades and softens his voice. “Is she asleep, little one?”

Rey looks at him, then, into his dark eyes, so beguiling; so nice to get lost in. He searches her eyes in turn, unyielding as always—and she can’t resist. She gives a slight, timid nod.

“f*cking finally.” Hux heaves a sigh, shrugging off the wall behind Kylo, materializing from the shadows. “That was like tranquilizing a horse.”

Rey averts her eyes to the floor as Hux passes them. Dread settles on her shoulders. She’s doing something wrong. She needs to tell someone. She needs to get help. She’s just as bad as them if she doesn’t do something.

She sobs, covering her mouth. Oh god. She had an opportunity and she f*cking wasted it. What the f*ck is wrong with her? Why didn’t she get help? Why does she want this poor girl to suffer, too?

Kylo rubs Rey’s upper back in small, slow circles. He gives her a gentle push, and she starts walking, aimless. But he guides her through the pounding music to the rear exit, and when they emerge into the very early morning, Rey finally takes a deep breath. Her breaths keep coming, deep and slow, making her head spin. She grabs Kylo’s forearm for support.

“Good girl.” He leads her along towards the SUV, soothing, patient. “Good girl.”

Kylo helps her into the backseat. He climbs in after her and shuts the door, and Rey grabs the front of his shirt, relieved as he puts his arm around her shoulders. She cries, much harder than she’s cried in a long time.

Eventually, the trunk opens. By then, Rey has mostly quieted down, reduced to sniffles while Kylo murmurs to her. She hears a heavy thud and winces.

After Hux gets into the passenger seat, they drive off. Rey wants to turn around—she wants to look—but she can’t bring herself to. She clings to Kylo, and he runs his fingers through her hair. If she just stays still, she’ll be fine. If she just doesn’t think about it, she’ll be fine.

Kylo helps her from the car when they arrive back at the compound. Exhaustion comes over Rey in a wave as she steps out onto the gravel. But she manages to walk up the steps into the building, Kylo walking right behind her. And she doesn’t see whatever it is Hux is taking out of the trunk. Could be anything, really.

She shuffles obediently to her room once upstairs. Kylo follows her in and locks the door.

Rey stiffens. “I should—” She turns, bumping into Kylo’s chest. “I have to—”

He turns her roughly around to unzip her dress. Rey stares at the wall behind the bed, eyes wide, guilt rearing its ugly head. She should have said something. She should have done something.

Kylo turns her to face him again, then kneels to take off her tights and shoes. She grabs his shoulder to keep from toppling over.

“I—I wasn’t helping you,” Rey says, shaking her head, voice trembling. He slides his hands up to her hips, softly kissing beneath her belly button. She swallows. “Don’t try to—I’m not going to help you.”

His mouth roams lower. Rey tries to pull away, but he holds her firm, huffing as he mouths hungrily between her thighs. She chokes, squirming, pushing on his shoulders. Oh god, what is he—

She wriggles free, stumbling back and grabbing the side of the nightstand. Kylo stares at her, chest heaving as he rests back on his heels to pull off his shirt. His bandages have small red spots. He’s bleeding again.

Rey clenches her jaw, eyes widening as Kylo gets to his feet. He seizes her by the upper arm, and she tries to recoil, sucking in a sharp, terrified breath.

He pauses. His grip loosens, then gets tight again, and he drags her forward the foot she grants him. Rey clings to the edge of the nightstand as she looks up into his dark eyes, brow drawn. He searches her eyes.

“I love you, Rey,” he says. His jaw shifts. “You will learn to tolerate it.”

Rey’s chin quivers. Kylo releases her, turning and rummaging through the dresser drawers. He tosses pajamas on the bed: the usual mismatched stuff, all too big, all his. He snaps his fingers and gestures to the pile, and Rey hastily starts putting the clothes on.

“Shower,” Kylo snaps, and she practically jumps out of her skin. She grabs the clothes and scurries off.

Kylo follows. He stands at the bathroom door with his arms crossed, watching her adjust the temperature dials and step in. Rey draws the curtain and tilts her head back to wet her hair as Kylo’s immense shadow passes by. He paces the bathroom the entire shower, slowly moving back and forth, steps heavy and meandering.

Usually, she’d tell him off. On any other day, she’d let him know he’s being creepy and annoying. But Rey just washes her hair and scrubs herself clean and keeps her comments to herself.

Kylo offers her a towel as soon as she steps out of the shower onto the pink tile. Rey dresses in a rush, trying to watch him from the corner of her eye as he meanders to the bathroom door. She’s clean now—did he just want her clean before he…?

“I think my period starts soon,” she blurts to his back. Kylo turns halfway to look at her, arms still crossed. “So… so… might want to keep your… your…”

He stares at her, like he’s daring her to say it out loud. Rey folds her arms instead, clearing her throat, looking anywhere but at him.

“Lie down,” Kylo says.

Rey doesn’t have any other bright ideas. She’s exhausted and emotional and sick to her stomach and as she shuffles to the bed, trying not to cry, she thinks maybe this will be a good thing. It will distract her. She can just close her eyes and relax.

She takes a shaky breath as she pulls back the sheets, Kylo looming behind her. It wasn’t even that bad last night—it’s easy when she stops fighting it.

Rey swallows the lump in her throat when Kylo climbs into bed behind her. He wraps an arm around her waist, and she squeezes her eyes shut, waiting, dreading his wandering hand. It’s not like he ever asks. He doesn’t have to ask.

The room becomes very quiet. Rey waits and waits.

Kylo nuzzles her hair. He inhales deep, and his rough palm slides over her stomach, rubbing back and forth. Rey’s heart thunders in her ears.

“One day…” he murmurs, then trails off, quietly smelling her hair for a minute before continuing in an odd, distracted tone. “One day—I will come home, and you will smile, and you will tell me you missed me.” He kisses the side of her head. “And all will be well.”

All will be well. Rey swallows, staring at the wall. All will be well.

Chapter 19

Chapter Text

“Rey.”

The sun hasn’t risen, and Rey’s eyes roll open in blue-gray darkness, slowly adjusting to make out Kylo standing at the side of the bed. Her gaze wanders up to his face and pauses there. He snaps his fingers.

“Up,” he says.

She gets up. It’s cold, and she trembles as she puts on the dress he has set aside for her and steps into her shoes. Kylo corrals her to the bathroom and looms behind her while she brushes her teeth. He’s already dressed.

He takes it upon himself to brush her hair into a ponytail. Rey avoids meeting her eyes in the mirror, but she winces when he pulls a little too hard, hissing, instinctively jerking her elbow back into his ribs. Kylo tightens his grip and she’s drawn up to her tiptoes, clutching the edge of the countertop. Rey grits her teeth and glowers at him with one eye open. He looks at her reflection in turn, unblinking.

“That hurt,” she snaps.

He pulls harder on her hair, and Rey screws her eyes shut, swallowing hard—then he releases. She opens one eye again and sees him close his briefly, Adam’s apple bobbing, a muscle twitching in his jaw. Kylo gathers her hair in his hand again and resumes brushing.

Hilda and Helmut are waiting outside the room. Rey is more relieved than she thought she’d be to see the latter: she pets his head as she and Kylo walk past. He has a new red collar with small spikes.

She realizes as they walk outside to a sleek black car that she has no idea where they’re going. The dogs don’t come with them. They stop at the bottom of the stairs, watching Kylo open the passenger side door for Rey. It could be good that they’re not coming. Or it could be bad. Maybe she made a misstep yesterday and Kylo is going to kill her.

Rey slides into the car. Kylo shuts the door.

They drive down the long dirt road through a maze of trees and come out to a side road with cracked pavement. Rey bunches her dress in her fists, dread rising in her belly. He wouldn’t kill her now. What’s the point of that? She didn’t help the woman from the night before escape. She told him she fell asleep. And she barely even argued with him when they got back to the compound.

Cold, clammy sweat beads on Rey’s palms. All she did was nod when he asked if Sophie had fallen asleep. It’s not like she carried her out with them. It’s not like she spiked her drink. It’s not like—

Kylo’s door slams. Rey jumps, startled from her ruminating. She swallows, straining against her seatbelt to look around, turning and feeling her heart leap into her throat as he passes behind the rear window. He’d bring Hilda if he were going to kill her. He brings her everywhere. He’d have brought her if he were planning on killing her.

Her door opens sharply. Rey flattens herself against the seat, stiffening as Kylo leans in and across her lap to unbuckle her belt. He stands aside and offers a hand to help her from the car.

Rey is so sick with fear as she ducks out that it takes a full minute for her take in her surroundings: a white and brown building with tables out front, some with people sitting around them, eating food, talking. It’s a café. The sun has come up. The temperature has come up along with it. And they’re at a café.

Kylo shuts the door behind her, and she jumps. He twists her ponytail around his big hand, tugging gently.

“Behave,” he says.

They’re seated at one of the outdoor tables and given menus. Rey looks over hers with glazed eyes, too uneasy to even begin to pretend to know what any of the German means. Usually she’d hazard a guess; pick out the similarities to English and try to find something she might like. But today she can’t. She doesn’t care. Kylo plucks the menu from her fingers when the waiter returns and orders for them both. She sips her water.

He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t offer an explanation. They haven’t gone out to eat in a long time, and this is a new place. Rey folds her hands in her lap and picks at the edges of her nails.

“It will be cool today.”

She glances up. Kylo is looking off into the distance.

“Oh,” she says.

“It will be too cool for dresses in the coming weeks.” He roots around in his breast pocket until he finds a cigarette and a lighter. He sets it between his lips and lights it before he continues. “Unfortunately.”

Rey isn’t sure what to say to that. She just nods, and the waiter comes with their food.

She begins to have déjà vu when they meander down the small block to various clothing stores. He did all the shopping previously; bought a bunch of things she hardly ever wears. Usually she’s draped in his oversized clothes. But she remembers when they went out to eat that one afternoon, not too long after he first brought her to the cottage. She was still bargaining back then. Still trying to find a way out.

Kylo leads her to different stores, offering her things to try on: pants and jeans and bulky sweaters and boots. Rey goes along with it, not bothering to parse out the bits of German she thinks she recognizes from Kylo’s conversations with the employees. He buys things and loads the bags into the car. Rey follows. She wonders what Rose is doing. If she thinks about Rey at all. What’s going on back home?

A soft whistle draws her from her reverie. Rey blinks and realizes she’s in another store. Not sure when that happened. She swallows and raises her eyebrows as she looks to Kylo touching the edge of a green sweater.

“This will be warm,” he says.

“Um… sure.”

He takes it off the rack and folds it over his arm. Rey trails behind him through a sea of clothes racks, around tables and displays. She twiddles her thumbs and cranes her neck to stare at the two big black front doors. After another idling distracted step, she bumps into Kylo’s back.

She scowls, recoiling. He’s looking down at something, and just before she opens her mouth to tell him off for getting in her way, she notices what he’s so fascinated by.

It’s a small table stacked with folded fuzzy baby onesies—on sale it seems. Rey’s mouth slowly presses shut as Kylo runs two fingers along a pink onesie. His face is impossible to read. Blank. And bizarre, animalistic fear plunges through her stomach like an icy knife. It’s so intense she can practically taste it on her tongue, sharp and metallic like steel, but she shuffles it away; refuses to engage with the prickling possibilities skittering around in her brain. Die. Die.

“I think I have enough ugly sweaters,” she snaps, irritated enough to make Kylo glance at her. “Can we go?”

It’s already pawing around in his brain, she’s pretty sure. He gives her a weird, long stare, and she knows he’s hungry for every scrap and shred of her he can peel off her bones, and the wheels are turning.

Don’t even f*cking think of it, she wants to say.

“Fine,” he says.

The drive back to the compound is silent and tense. Rey senses that he senses that she could see his thoughts written on his face. She tries not to think about it. If she thinks about it, she gives it a corporeal form. She grants it substance. If she ignores it, it remains as it should be as a menace from a nightmare she can’t quite remember.

Kylo unpacks the car. Hilda and Helmut greet them at the stairs, and Rey sits to pet Helmut while Kylo and Hilda make a few trips up and down.

“She won’t have much opportunity to wear any of those things, Ren.”

Hux saunters out from the front door, smiling down at Rey as he ambles down the first few steps. Rey glares and Helmut growls low under his breath. Good dog.

Kylo shuts the car door. “What do you want?”

“We were going to play a little game of poker if you were interested. Wagner and Fischer are participating.” Hux looks down at Rey, still smiling. “Easy victims.”

“Fischer?” Kylo echoes.

“Mm.”

Rey looks at Kylo as he approaches with Hilda. Hux raises his eyebrows in a smug kind of way while Kylo adjusts his belt, not speaking for a moment.

“Fine,” he says.

“Lovely.” Hux takes a step back up the stairs. “Feel free to bring the girl. It may be unwise to leave her unattended.”

He leaves. Rey scowls after him.

They go up to the room to change, and despite the handful of bags full of new clothes, Kylo tosses Rey more of his things to wear. He brings her a sandwich for dinner and fixes his hair in the mirror over the dresser while she eats. Plain old turkey and mayo. She hasn’t had a plain old sandwich in a long time. It tastes good.

Rey watches Kylo, chewing slowly. She swallows. “Getting all dolled up for your boyfriends?”

He glances at her through the mirror. Hilda is sitting at the open door, and she casts Rey the most irritated look a dog is capable of. Helmut has his head on her thigh, trying his best to patiently wait for scraps. Rey gives him a tiny piece of sandwich while Kylo is watching.

“I told you not to feed that dog scraps,” Kylo says.

She takes one more bite of her sandwich and stares at Kylo as she gives the rest to Helmut. The dog excitedly scarfs it down, and Kylo’s lower eyelid twitches, jaw clenching.

“Oops,” Rey says.

She knows it’s a stupid move—she knows by now that she shouldn’t poke the bear. But it’s oddly satisfying when Kylo huffs and shakes his head and doesn’t do a thing about her defiance. They’re each doing their own little petty power grabs. Hers just don’t mean much.

Kylo sends off the dogs on their way downstairs. Rey’s smug satisfaction ebbs away as they walk down into the basem*nt and her blood ices over at the soft sobs of the captives echoing off the cold walls. She pauses at the bottom of the stairs, and Kylo has to walk around her, leading her down the hall to a room. She shuffles in, thick socks catching on the sharp metal edge of the transition strip.

A table is set, surrounded by six or eight men, some sitting, some standing, most smoking. A few look their way, and Rey is glad to be led to a pile of pillows and blankets in the corner where a small group of women are gathered. It reminds her of the disastrous meeting Kylo brought her to. All those women were drugged, and as she finds a cushion to sit on, she realizes all of these women are drugged, too: slumped over, eyes glassy, lips parted. It smells like cheap perfume and cigarettes. It’s too much to bear.

“I can go—” Rey tries to stand. “I’ll go wait upstairs.”

Kylo pushes her back down. One of the women blinks slowly at her in a peculiar, unnatural way, and Rey grabs Kylo’s forearm as he turns away.

“Not cooperating, hm?” Hux steps up beside Kylo as he pries Rey’s hand off his arm. He smiles at her and casually offers Kylo a small syringe. “We can’t have her interrupting our evening, now, can we?”

Rey glances between them, shying away when Kylo takes the syringe. He hesitates, rolling it between his fingers, jaw working from side to side.

“Wait,” she says. “Wait—”

She shakes her head and falls back on her elbow as Kylo leans over. He pushes up her sleeve and sticks the needle in her upper arm before she can yank it away from him. Rey doesn’t scream; doesn’t shriek. Her mouth snaps shut and she presses her lips into a firm line, frozen in fear.

“Very good,” Hux says. He takes the syringe when Kylo holds it toward him between two fingers. “Now we won’t have to listen to her carrying on.”

Kylo gives Rey one final look before he turns around, rolling up his sleeves. “Quiet.”

“Her voice carries, is all I’m—”

Kylo seizes Hux by the throat with one hand—and it must be a hard grab, because Hux instantly starts choking, jerked back by the force of it. Hux’s knees buckle as Kylo looms over him, expression icy, dark eyes blank.

“I told you to be quiet,” Kylo repeats. Hux’s pale face flushes a sickly shade of red and purple as Kylo’s grip tightens. “So be quiet.”

He lets off as suddenly as he grabbed. Hux gasps, choking but remaining on his feet. He irately rubs his throat and gives Kylo a slight shove that doesn’t make him move an inch. They head to the table together. It’s not very far off, maybe twenty feet.

Rey swallows. She looks at the other women, all young, all half asleep. There are four including herself. This must be a thing for these terrible people; toting women around like accessories to show off. None of them speak or even seem to realize she’s there. She crawls back to the wall, gathers blankets and pillows, and lays down. Not like she has anywhere to go, and if she’s going to get drowsy, she doesn’t want to be out wandering around.

The drug oozes into her blood stream. Rey watches the game across the room with vague interest, then she dozes off for a bit, and she wakes to raucous laughter and cheering.

Two men are on the floor and the rest are gathered around, watching the one crouched over the other punching him repeatedly. Bone crunches. Blood sprays on the cement. Rey blinks slowly, carefully, and recognizes Kylo as he gets to his feet, flexing his bloody hands at his sides. Hux gives him a slap on the back and hands him a bottle. Light spills across their wide, beastly smiles and silver cigarette smoke curls towards the ceiling. Rey weighs a thousand pounds. Her hip hurts from sleeping on her side.

Hux makes eye contact with her. A slim, lipless smile touches his gaunt face. He points to Rey, a cigarette between his index finger and middle finger, leaning in to speak in Kylo’s ear. Kylo looks at her. Through her.

He brushes his black hair back from his face with his bloody hand and takes a drink from his bottle. Hux is still talking to him, and Kylo shoves him off with an elbow to the ribs. He tosses the bottle on the table, turning, now staring at Rey, too far away to be readable. She blinks slowly, and when her eyes open, he’s only a few steps away.

The floor falls away. Rey is draped over Kylo’s shoulder, limp, not even bothering to grab his shirt when she slides. He carries her from the room, down the dark hallway, away from the light and laughter and smell of alcohol. But the smell of blood persists. It burns in her nose.

Metal creaks. A door opens and shuts. Rey is slipped down from Kylo’s shoulder to her feet, and she clings to him, eyes closed, oddly comforted by his scent. He kisses her hair and her cheek as he works open his pants.

“On your knees,” he breathes. She doesn’t move, struggling to process the instruction, and he repeats himself in rushed German, then English. “On your knees, little one.”

Rey needs a hand on the shoulder to finally drop to her knees on the hard cement floor. She sways, head tilted, staring at nothing as Kylo steps closer. Hot wetness brushes her lips, and she licks away salt from her mouth. It comes back, urgent, pushing, and she opens her mouth.

“Good girl—” Kylo exhales a short, sharp breath. His big hand comes to rest on top of Rey’s head, urging her closer. “Look at me.”

She rolls her eyes lazily back to look up at him. His pupils are wide and black and his eyes flutter as he pushes deeper into her mouth. Rey draws back with it, but he holds her firm, crowding closer, filling her throat. She doesn’t cough or resist. She breathes evenly through her nose, numb, hands draped loosely in her lap.

Kylo fists her hair, thrusting in gentle, deep strokes. Rey keeps swallowing, only vaguely aware of what’s happening, and her eyes roll shut.

“Look,” Kylo says, and he tilts her head to the side as her eyes open again, only halfway. “Be a good girl and swallow.”

Saliva runs down her chin. She’s a mess when Kylo finishes, grunting, thrusts staggering. Rey huffs and blinks hard in surprise, helplessly swallowing as his cum flows down her throat. He pets her hair and shudders while she struggles.

She coughs when he withdraws, drooping to the side and catching her weight on her palm. The door to the left spins when she looks at it, trying to wipe her chin with her hand and missing, somehow. Her throat is sore.

“I want to taste you,” Kylo mumbles. His zipper zips but he doesn’t fix his belt. He kneels before Rey, passing a big hand over her mouth and chin to clean off the saliva. “Lay back.”

Rey shakes her head weakly, but he persists, creeping forward until she’s forced to fall to her side. The floor is hard and cold under her back as Kylo yanks down her pants and pushes up her shirt past her belly button. He smooths his warm hand on her stomach, then he leans over her, whispering in her ear as she trembles.

“I want to fill your little belly.” He nudges her temple, squeezing her stomach in his palm. “I want to slice you open and climb inside you.”

Her chin quivers. Kylo bites her jaw, then he trails down her throat, and he moves back to feast between her legs. Rey is semi-conscious for most of it, slipping in and out of tendrils of light and dark, holding on out of fear that Kylo may really cut her open.

And he does, in a way. When she slithers back into awareness, he’s on top of her, inside her, languidly f*cking her on the cold, hard floor. And he fills her up.

Chapter 20

Chapter Text

Rey has a splitting headache when she wakes, and she sits up immediately. Her vision cracks and swims around like she’s inside a shattered mirror, and Kylo’s voice echoes in her skull, radiating off the needle-sharp shards. Her throat aches. She thought he was going to kill her—she was positive he was going to kill her—but she’s still alive and she’s here again, in the bedroom—

“What… what am I…” She reaches up to clutch her head and finds her hair is damp, and her voice wavers, bordering on a sob. “Did you wash my hair?”

“Yes.”

She rubs her eyes with her fists and cries. Kylo puts a hand on her back between her shoulder blades and she furiously shrugs him off with all the strength she can muster. When his hand returns, she doesn’t bother shaking it off again. She just cries.

“I will be gone until this evening,” Kylo says. “Is there anything you would like?”

“I want to go home. I want to go home—”

“We will.” Kylo slides his hand up to squeeze the back of her neck, big fingers curling around her throat, and Rey stifles her sobs. “Is there anything you would like?”

Her eyes are wide, breaths sharp and fast. Rey glances up at Kylo and as her terror reaches a fever pitch; as she dreads peeling back another brutal layer to him—it all goes very still. She can read the impatience in the lines around his eyes. She has to give him an answer.

“Jewelry?” she rasps.

Kylo’s hand slips away. He kisses her forehead and Rey closes her eyes, quivering from relief.

“Do not leave the premises,” he says. “Hilda will kill you.”

Then he’s gone.

Rey isn’t sure what to do with herself. She ignores the muffin Kylo left her on the nightstand when she eventually gets out of bed, shaking, nauseated and confused. She staggers to the door and opens it, looking for Kylo—but she just sees the dogs waiting for her. Hilda glances back at Rey and watches her stumble out into the hallway.

It’s quiet. Rey can hear her own heart beating; she can hear the air rushing into her lungs when she breathes. She rubs her chest and withdraws into the bedroom without closing the door, and Hilda follows.

Rey stands motionless over the bed for a few minutes. She grabs a pillow and screams into it.

Hilda and Helmut follow her downstairs and out into the backyard. Guards patrol the perimeter and a couple of men pass them as they walk down the steps. Rey shuffles to the middle of the lawn, drops to her knees, and falls on her back.

It’s cool. Soft. Rey swallows and rests her palms on the short, prodding grass, eyes closed, and the sound of her breathing and pulse drift away. She listens to the crickets and birds and the wind rustling the trees, and she focuses on how warm the sunshine feels on her fingers and toes and the earthy, wet scent of the grass. She takes a deep breath and slowly exhales. Given enough time, she might melt into the ground and disappear.

Something plops on her stomach.

Rey’s eyes fly open: Helmut looms over her, jowls open in a slobbery grin. There’s a worn tennis ball on her stomach.

She tosses the ball without sitting up. Helmut goes running after it, and he returns a couple seconds later and drops it on her stomach again. She’s not really in the mood for playing fetch.

Rey sits up anyhow, this time throwing the ball further than before. Hilda is sitting not ten feet away, ears pricked, back straight. She casts Rey a sideways glance as Helmut trips over his front paws just before getting to the ball. What an embarrassment.

“Normal dogs like to play,” Rey says. Helmut comes back and drops the ball in her open hand. “You should try it.”

Hilda watches as Helmut hauls off after the next throw. She adjusts her front paws and snorts.

Helmut tires eventually, and Rey lays in the grass again while he snoozes a foot or so away. No one approaches them, even though she hears men coming and going and sees them from the corner of her eye. Hilda stays rigid and alert, hardly squinting as the sunshine rolls across the cloudless sky and shines in her brown eyes.

Rey’s thoughts wander to Kylo. She sits up, shuddering, wrapping her arms around herself. At least he didn’t bring her to see whatever he’s doing.

She peers over her shoulder at the somber gray compound, thoughts continuing to wander. Is Sophie still in there somewhere? Are they keeping her around?

Hilda blinks and stands when Rey gets up. Helmut is a little slower but follows a few paces behind as she heads back into the building. Rey isn’t quite sure what she’s doing, but she does it anyway: finds the stairwell and descends a flight to the basem*nt, prickling with unease, nauseous considering the possibilities. They probably killed her. Or got rid of her. They wouldn’t still have her here.

The door slams shut behind Rey, cutting off Hilda and Helmut. Hilda growls from the other side, scratching at the steel, but Rey wanders onward, flexing her cold fingers at her sides. It’s not like they’d keep her. She’s probably far away by now.

Her blood pounds in her veins as she takes heavy step after heavy step. She tries not to think about the previous night, but the sensations burn inside her skin; the musty smell is like acid in her throat, and she feels so hollow, so cold and lifeless without him here. Rey pauses to touch the rough concrete wall, breathing hard. She wants to go home. She wants to go back to the vineyard where it’s quiet and warm—

“You.”

Rey looks to her left.

Sophie is clutching the bars of her cage with dirty fingers. Her nails are torn and bloody, and she’s wearing an oversized shirt with a cartoon character on it and nothing else. She’s riveted on Rey. Her eyes are sunken and wide, her lips chapped and bleeding. A dull, thick chain curves from her ankle and vanishes into the shadows of her cell.

“You,” she repeats. Her voice is a crackling whisper, so full of malice that Rey winces. “You bitch.”

Rey’s head pounds like a drum. She takes a teetering step back, and Sophie leans forward, staring.

“What did you do?” she rasps. Rey does an about-face as she breaks out in a cold sweat, and Sophie raises her voice, shrill. “What did you do?!”

Rey trips. She skins her palms when she falls but keeps running, and she runs right past the dogs, up the stairs, straight to her room. Her legs feel like lead, but she avoids the bed, repulsed by it; sickened by what she allows there. Rey stumbles into the bathroom and climbs into the tub instead.

She lays on her back, knees bent, eyes wide. Her heart twists and thunders in her chest, and the image of Hilda peering at her beats in a hazy black and gray. Rey’s ears ring and as she takes her last panicked breaths, she hopes she doesn’t wake up again.

| | |

Wet warmth on Rey’s cheek drags her back.

Her eyes flutter open to Hilda’s head leaned over the edge of the tub as she gently but persistently licks Rey’s face. Helmut watches, but his attention is taken by the door shutting in the other room. He whines, glancing at Rey, and Hilda lifts her head to look, too. Rey is on her side, curled into a ball. She’s stiff.

Kylo appears in the bathroom doorway. He frowns, tilting his head as he approaches.

Hilda growls. It’s a low, rumbling growl that makes Rey’s hair stand up on end. Kylo pauses, eyeing her as he pushes up his sleeves.

“Off,” he says. She doesn’t budge, and he steps closer, voice sharper and sterner. “Hilda—off.”

She reluctantly moves away.

Kylo scoops Rey up from the tub. He carries her out to the bed and sits her on the edge, then sends the dogs out. Hilda goes last, and she sits right outside as the door closes and locks.

Rey swallows. There’s a small pile of brown gift bags on the nightstand. Pain pulses in her palms as Kylo returns to her and takes something out of one of the bags.

A jewelry box. He doesn’t speak as he opens it, revealing a diamond necklace inside. Rey doesn’t speak while he puts it on her, then he snaps the blue box shut and tosses it aside. He moves on to the next bag and takes out another jewelry box, this time with a bracelet. He loops it around Rey’s limp wrist.

He adds more and more: rings that complement her ‘engagement’ ring, more bracelets, and more necklaces. Rey remains silent, trembling, closing her eyes when he’s finished and runs his thick fingers through her hair. Her scalp tingles, and her stomach flutters when he kisses her forehead. She’s warm again.

Kylo pulls off her shirt over her head. He kisses down her temple and her throat as he sinks to his knees, lingering on her breasts with his big hands resting on her thighs. He leans back to pull off her baggy pants and Rey lays flat on her back as she lifts her knees over his shoulders. He buries his mouth between her thighs.

The warmth creeps higher into Rey’s belly. She squirms and whimpers, hips twitching against Kylo’s mouth. He’s so hot. His big hands are hot on her waist, his tongue is hot stroking her sensitive skin, his dark eyes are hot watching her over the plane of her stomach. When he stands suddenly, looming over her and pulling off his shirt, broad shoulders shifting to drag her to the edge of the bed—Rey realizes with horror that she thinks Kylo is hot.

He unbuckles his belt, and tears fill her eyes, chin quivering. Her necklaces slither back across her collarbone as he gently pushes inside her.

“My little one—” He draws her necklaces back between her breasts and arches over her, thrusting his co*ck deep inside her, big hand sliding down to her waist. His eyes roll back as he exhales, breathless. “Good girl.”

Rey’s fingers rest loose on his tense stomach while he pounds into her. The bed rocks against the wall. She thinks about his co*ck in her mouth the night before; about his harsh breaths and the feeling of his cum flowing down her throat. She swallows, rolling her hips, remembering his big fingers clutching the back of her head the way they’re clutching her hips right now.

She’s nauseated—she tries to think about something else; anything else, but he drapes his big body over her and drags her hips flush against himself, and his lips are at her ear, voice soft and rumbling with lust, and he smells so nice, and he’s so warm—

“I love you.” Kylo kisses Rey’s temple, and she closes her eyes, shivering as he nuzzles her hair and whispers, gently rocking inside her. “My little princess. You are so beautiful.”

“S-Stop—”

“My beautiful little princess. I want to fill your belly.” That makes Rey sob, but Kylo keeps going, murmuring like he’s hypnotized. “Tell me you want me to fill your belly. Tell me you love me. Be a good girl and tell me you love me.”

“I want to… I want to go home…”

“We will. Soon.” Kylo cups her cheek, thrusts lengthening. “Tell me you love me, little one.” When she sobs and doesn’t respond, he grasps her jaw and squeezes. “Tell me you love me.”

She strains beneath Kylo, shaking her head. “Please don’t make me—” He squeezes harder and she says it, and it’s acid on her tongue, but a weight off her shoulders, like vomiting after trying to hold it down for hours on end. “I… I love you.”

Kylo huffs, grabbing her hips in both hands, breathless. “Say it again. Say it again.”

“I… l-love you—”

“Again,” he whispers, and when Rey squirms, he says it for her. “I love you.”

“I love…”

“I love you.”

“I love you.” Rey swallows and repeats herself, voice trembling. “I love you.”

It’s easier. More natural. She loves him, because he takes care of her, and protects her, and he brings her gifts. Kylo is warm and safe and she loves him, and allowing herself that last thought almost makes her spin out again—but she distracts herself, thinking about how he looks loading a gun, and him bleeding out on the bathroom floor admitting his love for her, and him beating a man to death for looking in her direction. Her thighs squeeze around his hips as she drifts back to the vague memory of him watching her through the crowd at the club; of the fear she felt when he looked at her. Of the dreadful excitement.

Rey paws at Kylo’s shoulders, shivering at the way his muscles move beneath her fingertips. She rocks her hips against his rough thrusts, and when he kisses her, she kisses him back, toes curling, insides clenching—

She gasps into his mouth when she comes. Her nails dig into his hard muscle and Kylo groans gutturally, following right after her, f*cking her into the mattress. Rey squeezes around his hips as he empties inside her with harsh, satisfied grunts.

Her heart flutters while they both catch their breath. Rey swallows, eyes closing when Kylo kisses her cheek.

He withdraws, zipping up, broad chest shiny with sweat, pale skin flushed pink. He uses his shirt to clean between Rey’s legs and throws it out. She sits up, trembling, watching him put on a shirt and open the dresser. She didn’t even notice he brought food.

“Hux needs assistance moving a dozen girls over the French border.” Kylo approaches her with clothes and Rey obediently lets him dress her. “I will be busy for the next few weeks.”

Rey nods, shame creeping up.

They eat quietly. Rey leaves most of her food untouched, and Kylo doesn’t complain. He puts away her jewelry, then they take separate showers and go to bed together.

Rey stares at the wall. Kylo’s thick arm is heavy around her waist.

“My father was a carpenter.”

Her skin crawls. She swallows a lump in her throat, trying to pretend he didn’t just speak to her. For a couple minutes, she almost convinces herself that’s the case—but he speaks again.

“I was a carpenter.” Kylo toys with her shirt, rubbing it between two fingers. Rey stares ahead. “For a time.”

She doesn’t respond. She can’t.

Kylo slides his hand back and up the front of her shirt, fanning his palm across her stomach. He settles closer. Rey’s breaths come a little faster.

“I enjoyed books back then. Gardening.” He’s wistful, almost, but it’s gone in an instant. “But after this life found me, there was no going back. There is no way out.” He pauses, thumb stroking her sensitive belly. “You find ways to live with the things you do.”

Rey doesn’t say a word.

| | |

Kylo falls asleep, but Rey can’t stop thinking about what he left her with.

She manages to extricate herself from him, driven by guilt and shame and a tiny pinprick of hope. Rey wraps up biscuits and fruit into a napkin, then she wanders barefoot into the hallway, where Hilda and Helmut are asleep. She tiptoes to the stairs, and she descends, cold step by cold step.

Sophie is asleep when Rey comes across her. She’s relieved: she unloads her pittance into the cage, carefully through the narrow bars. A blueberry rolls away.

“What is that?”

Rey stiffens. Sophie is awake, glaring at her from the mattress in the corner.

“I…” Rey shrugs feebly. “I thought you might be hungry.”

“Oh, great.” Sophie sits up and the blanket falls away, revealing fresh purple bruises on her throat. “f*cking bitch.”

Rey twiddles her thumbs. She stands, hesitates, then turns to leave. This was a mistake. She can’t make this better. She’s just going to have to live with—

“I’ll take whatever you can get tomorrow.”

She looks back. Sophie sits cross-legged before the bars, shoving blueberries and raspberries in her mouth. She glares at Rey.

“Anything… else?” Rey asks.

“Another blanket would be nice. It’s cold.”

“Okay. Sure.”

“You must be f*cking that guy from the club, huh?” Sophie narrows her eyes, chewing. “Well—at least you look like sh*t, too.”

Rey’s gaze roams away. She walks woodenly back up to the bedroom, and Hilda lifts her head this time and huffs.

Kylo doesn’t stir, even when the door closes. Rey stares at the wide expanse of his bare back, broken by the patched-up gunshot wounds. She tiptoes back to the bed and takes up her spot again, heart beating in her throat. At least he’s still sleeping. At least—

His warm hand slides over her hip. Rey and shudders as he kisses the side of her throat. He doesn’t speak to her—he doesn’t say a word. He tugs down her pants, and she closes her eyes.

Chapter 21

Chapter Text

For the next two weeks, Rey continues to bring food to Sophie. She hides it during dinner if she can, or leaves leftovers, and after Kylo falls asleep, she tiptoes down to the basem*nt and drops it off. She and Sophie don’t talk much, but Rey doesn’t mind. She just wants to help.

It goes well. Kylo doesn’t notice, maybe because he’s too tired from his work with Hux. But one night, after he’s done f*cking Rey and gets up from the bed, he turns and pauses, and she thinks he’s noticing something she hid beneath the mattress. She’s lying on her back, naked and trying to catch her breath.

Kylo places a big hand on her stomach. “You are thin.”

“Yeah?” Rey swallows and sits up, brushing her hair from her face. “So?”

He tilts his head to the side and runs his fingertip down her spine. She can feel the ridges of her vertebrae under the pad of his finger.

“You have not had your cycle,” he says.

“That’s because I’m so f*cking stressed out.” Rey gets up from the bed, legs trembling. “It stops when you’re stressed.”

“You are not eating enough. You will eat everything I bring from now on.”

“I’m not hungry,” Rey snaps. She snatches her shirt off the floor, shaking as she pulls it on over her head. “I hate this place. I want to go home.”

“You have not felt anything?”

Her back is facing Kylo, and she’s glad, because a pulse of fear runs through her that she’s sure shows all over her face. Rey shifts her jaw from side to side and shakes her head, leaning over for her panties.

“No? I feel fine. And—”

“Get back into bed.”

“I have to take the dogs out—”

Kylo seizes her around the waist and drops her over the side of the bed. He just finished with her a few minutes ago, but he’s still able to f*ck her again.

He brings her things: clothes and jewelry and little baubles. Sometimes they go out to the nearby town and have lunch, and during those outings, Rey will look at him and think he looks terrifying, big and intimidating and out of place. Then he brings her back to the room and wrings her out, and in the sweaty delirious afterglow, she’s sure she loves him.

Someone knocks on the door. Rey opens her eyes, shifting against the mattress. Kylo pauses. He’s inside her, fingers clutching her hips—he’s close, and she’s close, too.

They knock again, and Kylo mutters a curse and slips from her body. Rey draws herself up onto the bed and covers herself with the blanket as Kylo fixes himself in his sweatpants and rips the door open. It’s Hux.

He raises his eyebrows, peering over Kylo’s shoulder. “Apologies, I didn’t realize you would be busy—”

“What do you want?” Kylo interrupts. He notices Hux watching Rey and slaps him hard across the face without much movement. “Schau sie nicht an.”

Hux replies in German, clearly angry about being slapped. Kylo slams the door shut in his face and twists the lock. The muscles in his back twitch as he sets his hands on his hips and mutters, then turns back to Rey.

“I have to leave,” he says. He grabs his grey shirt and pulls it on. “Hilda will come with me.”

Rey nods, somewhat disappointed that he didn’t finish. She rubs her thumbs on the edge of the blanket, and as he turns, she reaches out to grab the back of his shirt. Kylo glances at her over his shoulder.

She doesn’t say anything. She just looks at him, and he searches her eyes.

He turns and rips the blanket away. Rey is dragged to the edge of the bed, legs spread, and he unzips his jeans.

| | |

Rey sneaks down to see Sophie late that afternoon with a near-full tray of food. She drops it off like usual and turns to leave.

“Hey—you can stay if you want.”

She pauses. Sophie pulls the tray through the grate, and Rey tentatively returns to the front of the cage. She sits on the cold, hard floor.

Sophie looks okay, all things considered. Some bruises and her hair is dirty, but she hasn’t lost any weight. She digs into the dinner—a sandwich with chips and fruit—and Rey clasps her hands in her lap and twiddles her thumbs. Hopefully no one has been too bad to her.

“How have you been?” Rey asks, stupidly.

Sophie raises her eyebrows without looking at Rey. “Great. The guards pass me around a few times a week, but I’m getting used to it. I heard them talking about someone buying me.”

“You speak German?”

“Duh. Wouldn’t have come here if I didn’t.” Sophie swallows and glances at Rey. “I know you don’t. You and that other girl. You’re that girl from the news.” She lowers her eyes back to the tray, chewing while she talks. “Didn’t recognize you at first.”

Rey frowns. “News?”

“Don’t have a thumb on the pulse, huh?”

“…No.”

Sophie grins at that. Rey looks down at her lap, embarrassed for some reason.

“I thought I’d see the other one, too.”

Rey pauses in her twiddling. She looks up at Sophie again.

“Other one?” she asks.

“Yeah. Rose Tico?” Sophie swallows, shrugging. “She’s still missing, too. Everyone figured you were both dead because of the crazy ransom—”

“Rose went home already. They paid the ransom.”

“No. The kidnappers went kinda radio silent. Her parents have been begging for her for weeks and weeks.” Sophie’s grin widens. “Not you, though. I guess they figured you got sold off as somebody’s sex slave pretty quick.”

“I’m not—” Rey grits her teeth. “I’m a hostage.”

“The guards talk about how much more tolerable Kylo has been since he started f*cking you, and how he’s bringing you all kinds of stuff. You seem pretty comfortable for a hostage.”

Rey lunges for the bars. She slaps Sophie across the face.

Sophie clutches her cheek, eyes wide—and then she laughs. She laughs and laughs, and Rey gets up, trembling, palm stinging.

“Yeah, I thought so.” Sophie calls after Rey as she walks down the hall. “I bet you like being his little pet, you f*cking slu*t! f*cking c*nt!”

Rey doesn’t know where to go. She wanders up to her room, where she paces, reeling. She just slapped that poor girl. She’s a sex slave—she’s a pet. Her stomach turns and her ears ring. She’s a sex slave. She’s a sex slave. She’s not a hostage: she’s a pet with an owner, and sometimes he lets her out of her cage on a leash.

She hears car tires on gravel outside. Rey stumbles from the room and heads for the stairs, Helmut two steps behind her.

Kylo is climbing down from the SUV when Rey emerges from the house. Hilda jumps from the backseat, and Kylo smiles as she approaches, but it swiftly fades. He slams his door shut as Rey strides straight toward him, tears in her eyes.

“What happened?” Kylo asks. He looks up and around, eyes hard. “Did one of them hurt you?”

Rey flings her arms around his waist and sobs. He staggers slightly, then embraces her.

“I’ve been—I’ve been visiting that girl,” Rey cries. “I’ve been bringing her food, and… and…”

“Which girl?”

“S-Sophie.” Rey swallows and lifts her head from his chest, looking up at him. He cups her cheek. “She… she slapped me.”

It has the intended effect. Kylo’s jaw clenches, dark eyes roaming to the building—and Rey feels that sick sense of satisfaction; that comfort that he’s going to kill whoever crosses her. She swallows and gazes up at him, thinking of all the ways he takes care of her and loves her, and how she isn’t a slave, she could really leave anytime she wants, and he probably just made a mistake with Rose—

Kylo whistles. “Here, Hilda.”

Rey furrows her brow as Kylo gently disentangles from her and starts toward the compound. Hilda trots along at his heels.

“W-Wait—” Rey hurries after them, heart sinking. “What are you going to do?”

Kylo ignores her.

She follows him inside, then downstairs to the basem*nt, and she starts pleading, trying to walk back what she said, but he continues to ignore her. Rey tries to grab his arm and he turns on her, grabbing her by the throat.

“I am going to speak with her, Rey,” Kylo says coldly. He squeezes harder. “That is all.”

Then he turns and carries on. Rey hesitates before she runs after him.

The heavy doors screech as Kylo flings them open. Hilda’s nails click on the cement floor, mingling with the ominous echo of Kylo’s boots. He stalks down the rows of cages and stops when he reaches Sophie’s. Rey hears her laugh as Kylo unlocks the cage.

“Finally,” Sophie says, sarcastic and exasperated. “I thought your boyfriend would never come!”

Hilda snarls under her breath. Rey lingers several steps away, too afraid to come any closer. Kylo puts his hands on his hips.

“Did you slap Rey?” he asks.

“No, that little bitch slapped me. And quite frankly, I’m thinking of pressing charges.”

Kylo doesn’t respond for a minute. He’s staring at her, and Hilda peers up at him, ears pricked, like she’s sensing what he’s going to say next.

“Hilda—töte sie.”

Hilda lunges into the cage.

The screams and sounds Rey hears are impossible to comprehend. Her ears ring louder and louder until she can’t hear anything at all, she just sees Kylo standing there and watching, hands still on his belt. Blood flings out from the cell and splatters on his boots. He doesn’t bat an eye.

She stays stone still, frozen even after Hilda trots out of the cell covered in blood and chewing on something. Kylo turns, peeling his eyes away at the last moment as he walks back to Rey. Hilda wags her tail.

He stops next to Rey. She stares ahead at the wall, twitching when he leans over to whisper in her ear.

“Did she tell you anything interesting, little one?” Rey gives a small shake, and he hums. He looks back at the cell briefly, then murmurs to her: “Do not mingle with the livestock anymore.”

Rey is guided gently toward the stairs. She knows what’s coming next.

Chapter 22

Chapter Text

It’s hard to sleep that night. Whenever Rey closes her eyes, just as she’s about to drift off to sleep—she hears it.

She bites back the scream in her throat over and over, eyes wide, heart pounding, afraid she’ll wake Kylo. His heavy arm draped over her waist feels like a rope, like a noose that’s going to slither up her body and tangle around her throat. Over and over she wakes in clammy terror that she’ll upset him; afraid that he’ll turn his dog on her next—

Then she opens her eyes, and the sun is up. And the bed in empty.

Rey springs to her feet. Trembling, she pushes her hair back from her face and stumbles to the window to check the yard. Kylo and Hux are standing on the front steps smoking cigarettes. She exhales, head drooping as she pushes away from the windowsill.

She showers off the sweat and cold, brushes her teeth, and gets dressed. Rey hesitates as she opens the door, peering into the hallway for any sign of Hilda. She waits for the sound of clicking nails or panting, but it doesn’t come, so she hastily exits and makes for the stairs.

Her eyes burn when she walks outside. Squinting, Rey shields them with a shaking hand and staggers toward the sound of Hux’s voice. He’s speaking German. Laughing. Her ears ring loud and high and she has to pause and get her bearings. Cold creeps back into her stomach, twisting with the smell of cigarettes and fresh cut grass, and Rey is dizzy, hot, breathing hard.

She hears a familiar whistle. Rey swallows and rubs her eyes, and she sees Kylo looking over his shoulder at her. He snaps his fingers.

“…Would have been a worthwhile payout,” Hux says, finishing a thought as Rey approaches. He eyes her as she shuffles to Kylo’s side. Hux takes a drag from his cigarette and says something to Kylo in German that ends with a grin and laugh.

Kylo puts a hand on the side of Rey’s head and draws her closer to kiss her forehead. He nudges an overturned crate on his opposite side with his boot. The blood is gone.

“Sit,” he says.

Rey sits.

Presently, the sound of a diesel engine comes through the trees. Rey looks up at Kylo and he and Hux don’t seem concerned, so she twiddles her thumbs and watches the dirt road.

A rumbling old truck emerges from the forest. Hux waves to the two men in the front, and Kylo puts his cigarette out under the toe of his boot. He exhales his smoke and rubs between Rey’s shoulder blades. She leans to the side to rest against his hip. What are they having delivered?

The truck pulls up close to the building. Both men climb out and meet with Hux, carrying papers and folders. Rey frowns and peers up at Kylo, but he continues looking straight ahead. He whistles.

Her spine prickles as Hilda appears from the opposite side of the steps. Rey realizes she does a bad job hiding how tense she gets when Kylo pats the top of her head and clicks his tongue. He slides his hand beneath her chin and tilts her jaw to make her look up at him. Sunlight glows in the silhouette of his hair, but his eyes are flat.

“Hilda only herds livestock, little one,” he murmurs. He brushes her lower lip with his thumb. “You are not livestock.”

“Kylo.”

His hand slips away when he’s summoned by Hux. Hilda follows him to meet with the other men, and they review the papers. Rey looks up at the sky. Not a cloud in sight.

The two men and Hux walk to the back of the truck. More men come from the compound, all carrying guns, and fan out in a big circle. Rey crosses her arms and warily stares at a few of them until she hears a high-pitched scream. A woman.

Something tumbles from the back of the truck. It’s hard to see, so Rey stands, moving a couple steps over and craning her neck. Hux has his hands on his hips and kicks whatever fell.

“Up, up!” he snaps. He huffs and leans over. “Up!”

It’s a woman. Rey stops dead in her tracks, unblinking as she watches Hux drag a woman in torn clothes to her feet. She’s covered in dirt and bruises and sobbing hysterically, hands bound behind her back, dark hair a tangled mess. Rey averts her eyes as one of the other men approaches and drags her off towards the compound. She’s screaming in a foreign language—Spanish?

Hux climbs into the back of the truck and Rey hears more incoherent noise: sobbing, begging, shrieking. An intense urge to run overcomes her, but she can’t, and she stands there and watches as Hux and the other men unload different women from the truck. Rey gropes blindly for the wall behind her and leans against it, breathing hard through her teeth as the shadow of the roof overtakes her. It’s a dozen women. They corral them together and urge them toward the building.

One breaks from the group. She stumbles but doesn’t fall—and then she runs.

Hux looks at Kylo expectantly. Kylo and Hilda watch her make a beeline for the forest, and a muscle in Kylo’s jaw twitches. She’s not running very fast. She’s limping, dragging her left ankle.

“Kylo!” Hux shouts. He gestures toward Hilda.

Kylo’s gaze slides to the side, glancing back at Rey. Hilda looks up at him just as expectantly as Hux, shifting on her front paws. Kylo reaches back to draw his gun level and straight with one hand, aiming for the woman. His index finger adjusts on the trigger.

Hux makes a furious sound in his throat and draws his own gun on her with both hands. He shoots.

Rey flinches at the sound, whimpering. The woman collapses to the fresh cut grass with a soft, horrible thump and doesn’t move.

Hux holsters his gun and glares at Kylo, but his green eyes shift to Rey, too. He shakes his head and angrily shouts at two men and motions toward the body. They hurry across the sunny lawn, and Rey peels her eyes away. She feels stuck to the wall. Frozen solid. She hopes if she doesn’t move—doesn’t breathe—maybe she’ll disappear into the concrete.

“Little one.”

Rey looks toward Kylo. He motions to the crate with his gun.

“Sit,” he says. “Rest your eyes.”

She doesn’t make it to the crate. Rey slides down the wall and sits in the cold grass, and she closes her eyes, and she waits.

It’s like being asleep. Like passing into a void. Soon she just hears ringing, and when she opens her eyes, her head is pounding and there’s static running though her brain and buzzing behind her eyelids. Rey takes a deep, rattling breath. Did she faint?

She swallows as she comes to her senses and recognizes her bedroom. She did faint.

Kylo crackles into view as the shadow lifts and her hearing hums back to life. He’s picking through a dresser drawer, broad, bare back facing her, a small bandage creeping over his side where he was shot. He turns while she stares at him, clutching her head and wincing. Maybe that was all a bad dream. That bad to be a bad dream. A hallucination.

Kylo shuts the drawer, black shirt clenched in his fist. A silver cross sways against his chest. The gunshot wound on his shoulder is healing better than the one on his side and it isn’t bandaged; it’s just raw, twisted flesh. Rey stares at it as he approaches, and he opens the nightstand drawer.

“There is one more job for me to complete,” he says. He puts the shirt over his shoulder and breaks off a pill from a blister pack. He shuts the drawer. “We will go, then.”

Rey’s fingers are cold and clammy beneath the sheets. Kylo bites the pill in half and offers her a piece. She hesitates.

“For the nausea,” he says. “It will dissolve.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

She takes it. It dissolves under her tongue.

Kylo sits on the side of the bed. He rubs his jaw, staring off into space. Vague sounds drift through the window: birds and bugs and breezes. It’s a nice day, Rey thinks. She’d like to be back home, in the cottage on the hillside, sitting on the porch watching the sun set through the grapevines. Reading a book. Any book.

Thinking about Rose and the Ticos feels too far away, like a different lifetime she’s entertaining on the cusp of a dream. Rey is filled suddenly with dread; with a confusing, sickening feeling that nothing will ever be right again. She reaches blindly for Kylo’s arm, and he acquiesces, letting her draw him closer until he places a hand next to her head and leans over her.

“We’ll go soon?” she rasps, whispering, hoping no one will hear her shame.

“Yes. We may go wherever you would like.”

“I just want to go home.” Rey licks her lips and avoids his eyes. Her ears start to ring again. “I miss the vineyard.”

“There is no place else you would like to see, little one?” Kylo cups her cheek and traces his thumb under her eye. “Italy? Spain? France?”

“N-No. I want to go home.”

Kylo pauses. Rey glances at him, and he’s studying her, brow furrowed ever so slightly. He brushes her hair back from her forehead and draws his fingers through the ends.

“So do I,” he says.

| | |

Rey wakes in the middle of the night. It’s sudden and startling, like coming up for air after staying underwater too long. She gasps, eyes wide, heart pounding.

Kylo stirs beside her as she turns toward him. He’s warm and solid and she presses her palms to his bare chest, trembling, bile bubbling in her throat. Screams echo in her ears and she worries they’re coming from the basem*nt—worries that she should do something, because she might never sleep again if she doesn’t.

Rey’s lips quiver as Kylo cups her cheek, tilting her head until she’s looking at him. He strokes his thumb under her eye, and he’s quiet, just staring at her.

“Several months ago, our channels connected to Helen Tico advised there would be a spare accompanying her daughter overseas,” he murmurs. He searches her face, and her spine prickles. “A young girl named Rey Niima.”

Rey stares as the prickling trails up through her hairline. They knew that long ago? They’d been planning the whole thing for months?

“I performed light reconnaissance through social media accounts and public records necessary for a simple kill.” Kylo pauses. His gaze wanders to his hand on her cheek. “I found you tedious. But I found myself searching further and further.”

His hand slides from her cheek, down her jaw. “And I began to notice that tedious Rey Niima was Helen Tico’s pet. I was unsure why, for a time—Helen is not a particularly generous or empathetic woman. But she appeared to enjoy investing in you. I decided to investigate further when you arrived.”

Rey’s eyes widen as Kylo gently, smoothly wraps his hand around her throat.

“And it became evident,” he whispers in her hair, “that you were uncommonly good—and resilient. Aching and scraping and scrounging for the small scraps of kindness Helen deigned to drop on the floor.” His grip tightens around her neck, and Rey whimpers. “You were just a wounded, fascinating little creature, and I could not follow through with the kill.

“And now I ache, and I scrape, and I scrounge for whatever pieces of you I can find.” Kylo keeps squeezing. Rey breathes hard through her nose as black pools swim into her periphery. “I love you, little one. But I am incurable for you.”

She doesn’t bother trying to fight back. Rey’s fingers slide from his chest, eyes rolling in her head. A pet. Maybe she really has always been a pet.

Kylo releases her throat. Her ears ring and she has that feeling in her head again, like her brain is rebooting—and as she gradually comes to, slipping into her skin again, she realizes he’s f*cking her. She clings to his back with her prickling numb fingers, shivering, burying her face in the crook of his warm neck.

He kisses her afterwards, along her neck and shoulders and collarbone, down across her chest and stomach. Then he f*cks her again.

Rey lays on her stomach and watches through hooded eyes as Kylo rises from the bed, shiny with sweat, skin flushed pink. He rolls his shoulders and glances back at her. She blinks slowly.

“I will return in three days,” he says. He brushes her hair back from her forehead. “Do not wander, little one.”

She nods, still breathless.

Kylo takes a shower and gets dressed. He kisses her one more time before he leaves, and as he turns away toward the door, an anxious pang lances through Rey’s chest.

“I love you,” she blurts.

He looks over his shoulder at her. He smiles, and for the first time she sees his dimples, and she thinks she may see the ghost of someone else in his skin.

And he leaves.

| | |

For the first full day, Rey doesn’t go anywhere. She stays in her room, ignoring the food brought to her, too worried about Kylo to bother eating. He’s fine. He’s done this kind of thing before.

But on the second day she emerges, just to stretch her legs and see Helmut.

He catches up with her at the bottom of the stairs. Hilda isn’t around, thankfully. Rey scratches Helmut’s head and he follows her around the first floor of the compound. Whenever they pass by a guard, he avoids her eyes or turns into another room to avoid her.

She thinks maybe she could get used to this—being loved this way. No one has ever cared this much. She’s always been an afterthought; a tagline to Rose.

But she isn’t here. She’s respected here. Feared. She could even help Kylo on jobs. She could help him move girls just like Rose, who don’t appreciate what they have and don’t care when it’s gone. They deserve to be here. They’re naïve. Selfish. Stupid. And even if they get a little bit of kindness, they turn it into a weapon.

Rey hears voices coming from down the hall. Chatter. She clicks her tongue to Helmut, who clicks along beside her. Her chest warms as she fantasizes about entering a room full of guards and watching them scramble to avoid her. She smiles. It’ll be fun to watch them f*cking squirm.

She edges into the doorway, still smiling, hands behind her back. The guards are watching something on the news, and Rey’s gaze is drawn up to it.

Her smile disappears. There’s a picture of Rose.

“Breaking news from the German border: kidnapped American teenager Rose Tico has finally been returned to her family after several tense months of negotiations. She is currently under intensive medical care but is expected to fly home tomorrow afternoon. Unfortunately, Rey Niima’s ransom payment was rejected, and she is reportedly deceased. We’re going live to a press conference with Rose Tico’s parents.”

Mrs. Tico appears on the screen. Rey jumps, startled by her sobbing face and swollen eyes. She’s lost weight. She looks sick. Mr. Tico is standing beside her.

“Please,” she begs, and she stops to cry. Mr. Tico rubs her back. “We want to bring her home—we want to bury her.” Mrs. Tico looks into the camera and Rey stops breathing. “We just want to bring Rey home. We can negotiate—we can pay any price—we just want to bring her back home.”

She breaks down into hysterical sobs. Rey shakes her head slightly as the camera cuts back to the reporter.

“Heartbreaking news,” the reporter says, stone-faced. “More on this story later.”

Then it cuts to commercial.

Rey stumbles back from the door. She almost falls but catches herself on Helmut’s back. She can’t think. Her head swirls and her heart pounds and before she knows it, she’s walking toward the front doors. Hard to breathe. Needs to get outside. This doesn’t make any sense. This doesn’t make any sense.

She bursts through the doors, staggering a step, sucking in deep, panicked breaths. Helmut whines as he trails her down the steps. It’s sunny out. Warm.

Hilda raises her head where she’s sleeping on the bottom step. She growls as Rey and Helmut pass.

“Hey—Hey!”

Rey keeps walking. Her shoes feel heavy, so she kicks them off. Without thinking, she breaks into a jog, ignoring twigs that jab into the soft soles of her feet. She has to keep moving. She can’t think about this.

“Hey! Stop!”

Racing feet come up behind her with a sharp snarl. Rey glances back and sees Hilda racing towards her, teeth bared, and she doesn’t think she really cares if she gets her throat torn out.

An enormous black and brown blur tackles Hilda. Helmut. She rolls across the grass and Helmut descends on her, and they’re making unearthly sounds; they’re fighting. Blood sprays on the green grass.

Rey stares, but only for a second. She notices guards waving to her—one has a gun raised, but another shakes his head and pushes it down.

She stumbles backwards. She keeps running. The shouting and snarling fade away as she passes into the treeline.

Chapter 23

Chapter Text

Rey reaches a road.

She stumbles from the woods and collapses to her hands and knees, head still spinning, unable to cry or think or do anything but walk. A car zooms past while she’s struggling to get back to her feet—if she just keeps moving, she won’t have to think. She won’t have time to cry. She just needs to keep moving.

“Hallo?”

It’s a strange voice. German. Rey looks slowly to her right and sees a young couple approaching. Their silver car is pulled over on the side of the road, hazard lights gently flashing. The woman is on her phone, staring at Rey, and the man is coming closer, frowning.

They could be from Kylo. Even worse, they could not be from Kylo.

“I’m fine!” Rey rasps. She shakes her head and backpedals, waving her hands apologetically. “Don’t worry! I’m fine!”

The man calls after her as she turns, head pounding. He’s going to be furious. He’s going to lock her in that room for the rest of her life. He’s going to peel off her fingernails like he said he’d do to Rose, or he’s going to let Hilda eat her alive in the front lawn.

The grass beneath her feet swirls and fades into gray. Rey hears her breaths coming deep and fast into her lungs—and then she hears nothing at all.

| | |

“You let me in that room right now!”

Rey comes to abruptly, painfully, aware all at once. Her eyes widen and search the room before she manages to whimper: she’s in a hospital bed. Something is stuck in her elbow and the television is playing a show she doesn’t recognize, and the window is open to her right. She breathes hard and heavy and tries to sit up. She’s got to get out of here. He’s going to be so mad—

The door bursts open. Voices come, mostly angry and speaking German with smatterings of English. Her privacy curtain is yanked back.

It’s Mrs. Tico.

She’s thin. Gaunt. Her eyebrows raise and her hand falls away from the curtain, and she covers her mouth as she starts to cry. A small group of people hover behind her, all looking very annoyed, but they don’t intervene when Mrs. Tico approaches Rey’s bedside. Rey licks her lips and swallows as Mrs. Tico drags a chair up to sit. Rey’s gaze flits away to the window.

“Oh, Rey—” Mrs. Tico takes her hand and squeezes it, then kisses her knuckles. “I’m so glad you’re okay. I’m so happy to see you.”

Rey pulls her hand back. She flexes her fingers and writhes in the bed as she tries to sit up again. Maybe he won’t be mad. If she gets out of here quick enough and apologizes, and she promises to never leave her room again, maybe he won’t be mad.

“It’s okay, honey,” Mrs. Tico says. She stands up. “It’s okay.”

“She is very agitated and confused,” says someone. “You should not be here, Helen.”

“Of course she’s agitated, you’ve been giving her enough Valium to kill a horse!”

They argue. Rey slumps back to her bed, defeated. Her eyes roll back in her head, and she falls asleep.

| | |

It’s dark when Rey wakes again. Her eyes snap open, and she immediately tries to sit up. Her heart is pounding, and her fingers and toes are cold, and her chest is in a vice grip. If she doesn’t sit up, she won’t be able to breathe.

“It’s okay, honey. It’s okay.”

A cool hand presses to her back and helps her sit up. Rey breathes hard, grabbing a bed rail to steady herself. Her eyes flutter shut as she draws in deep, dizzying breaths through her nose. Her heart keeps racing. Her whole body feels like a hot live wire.

Something cold and soft and damp brushes her cheek. Rey half-opens her eyes and sees Mrs. Tico sitting next to her bed, dabbing her cheek with a washcloth. It helps. She stretches out her legs under the thin sheet until the uncomfortable prickling urge to get up and run fades away. She’s so hot. So tired.

Rey catches her breath enough to lean back against her pillows. Mrs. Tico sits back in her chair. They’re silent.

“I’ve sorted through things at the embassy,” Mrs. Tico says. She pauses. “You’ll be able to come home as soon as you’re feeling better.”

Fear lances through Rey’s chest at the word ‘home.’ She imagines Dobermans and grape vines and a bedroom with a chain bolted to the floor that’s not quite long enough, and she imagines for the first time, Kylo carefully taking measurements, spending hours or days determining the exact length he’d give her.

Rey still clings to the rail. She swallows a few times, staring straight ahead into the shadowy darkness.

“I’m so sorry, Rey.” Mrs. Tico’s voice wavers. “I borrowed money—it was so long ago, and I stopped paying them, and I thought they had forgotten about it. I had no idea—if I had known—”

She cries. Rey glances her way, but her gaze drifts back to the dark corner. She’s been away too long. He’s going to be mad.

“I never met those men,” Mrs. Tico continues, trying to restrain herself. “I have no idea why they pursued you and Rose.” She takes Rey’s hand. “But I promise—you’ll be protected when we go home. I’ve already arranged for private security. And we’ll sit together during the flight. You can take as much time as you need to recover before we leave.”

“Is Rose okay?”

Mrs. Tico doesn’t immediately answer. When Rey looks at her, her brow is furrowed, and she nods.

“She’s… well,” Mrs. Tico says. “Her father is bringing her home tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry I messed up.” Rey swallows a lump in her throat. “I’m sorry.”

“Honey, it’s not your fault. You don’t have to apologize.”

She has to apologize to someone. Kylo isn’t around to hear it, but Rey apologizes anyway, over and over again, until she finally begins to cry.

| | |

The hospital keeps Rey for a week. She fades in and out of consciousness, too anxious to sleep without medication, but only finding a handful of hours of sleep even with the medication. She’ll wake abruptly at night in a cold sweat, heart pounding, convinced Kylo is in the room. She fears she’s in a dream, and eventually she’ll wake up, still locked in the basem*nt with the torn mattress, chained to the floor.

But whenever she wakes, Mrs. Tico is sitting in the recliner by the window. Sometimes she’ll looks up from the book she’s reading to smile and offer Rey water, and sometimes she’s sleeping, hands clasped on her stomach. But she’s always there.

Police want to talk to her, but they’re shooed away by Mrs. Tico, who tells them in harsh whispers to speak with the family attorney. Some linger, trying to convince her in English that it’s very important they speak with Rey, but Mrs. Tico drives them off. She drives off the doctors who want to do exams and tests, too.

“You must be f*cking drunk,” she hisses to one of them one afternoon while Rey is pretending to be asleep.

“We can use light anesthesia—”

“She is in no condition for a pelvic exam.”

Rey’s heart leaps into her throat. She swallows, fidgeting under the thin sheet.

“She should be treated fully before she leaves,” the doctor insists. “It will cause her no distress.”

“Rey is trying to sleep. Please leave.”

The doctor makes an irritated huff, but her footsteps move away. Rey relaxes and exhales a breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

It’s a big relief when she’s discharged. She thanks everyone she can before Mrs. Tico and two bodyguards escort her downstairs to a Mercedes parked at the main entrance. Two more bodyguards stand outside the car, looking around. They nod as Rey and Mrs. Tico approach and open the back door.

“We have everything ready for you back home,” Mrs. Tico says, smiling as they put on their seatbelts. “Mister Tico can’t wait to see you.”

Rey smiles, nodding, looking down at her lap. Her clothes are all new, brought in by the bagful by Mrs. Tico. It feels weird wearing things that fit instead of Kylo’s baggy shirts.

The airport is busy and bustling. Rey stays close to Mrs. Tico, tense, scanning the crowd for any sign of Kylo. But they pass through security without any issues, tailed by the bodyguards, and they board their flight. The seats are in first class and Mrs. Tico insists Rey take the window seat. Their bodyguards take the seats behind and in front of them.

Rey picks at her nails while she looks out her window at the tarmac. She’s been anticipating Kylo coming for her the entire week: at the hospital, on the drive to the airport, on the plane. But when they take off without a hitch, and the ground gives way to the wide open, cloudless sky, a sick panic slithers in. Where is he? He must know where she is. Why isn’t he here? Why hasn’t he come for her yet?

She turns and leans up slightly to look back at the rest of first class. The bodyguard behind her glances up but doesn’t stare. No one seems out of place. None of them are Kylo.

Rey sinks back into her seat. She’s silent, staring straight ahead of the beige back of the chair in front of her—then her eyes fill with tears.

“Oh, it’s okay, honey.” Mrs. Tico grasps her hand and squeezes. “It’s okay. We’ll be home soon.”

Home. That used to be such a simple concept: never the cramped double-wide she shared with Unkar, and not even the sprawling suburban mansion where the Ticos lived—but the barbecues and the sleepovers and the camping trips, where Rey always felt like she belonged. Home was wherever the Ticos were.

She looks out her window again, and she can’t help but ache for something terrible.

Chapter 24

Chapter Text

Something about the Tico house feels… different. It’s like Rey is on another planet.

She goes straight home—to the spare bedroom Mrs. Tico insisted she stay in until they can find longer-term accommodations. Rey unpacks her things and thinks about how excited she would’ve been to live here a few months ago, but today, she doesn’t feel much of anything.

Rose is set up in the bedroom down the hall. Mrs. Tico suggests Rey wait to see her, but she has to see her. She has to.

Most of her stuff has been cleared out to make room for a hospital bed. It’s bare where there used to be posters and a shell collection from Cape Cod three years ago, and her dresser isn’t a mess anymore, and her closet is empty and strange. Rey walks slowly toward her bed in the center of the room, throat tightening. Rose looks so small nestled in her blankets with her stuffed giraffe under her arm. She’s asleep.

“She’s on some medication for now. She may not wake up all the way.”

Rey pauses at the foot of the bed. Her hand curled around the giraffe twitches, and Rey notices she’s missing part of her left ring finger.

She shuffles closer and sits in the chair beside the bed. Rose doesn’t move. Still asleep.

It’s been so long—Rey thought she’d know what to say and she’d be ready to say it. But she sits there silently instead, staring at Rose, counting her breaths. Her fingernails are torn, like she was scratching really hard at something. Metal. Maybe she was in a cage.

Rey had it so easy. She swallows, hands starting to tremble in her lap. She was so comfortable.

A soft knock comes from the door. Rey clears her throat and glances up as Mr. Tico sticks his head in. He smiles a little.

“Rey, there are people here to see you,” he says.

“Oh.” Rey gets up, sniffling. “Okay.”

“Helen is trying to shoo them away. They’re from the federal government.”

Rey stills. Federal… government?

She follows Mr. Tico downstairs, sweat beading on her palms. Do they know she helped catch Sophie? Do they know she was responsible for her being killed? Do they know she stood by and watched another woman being killed?

“…You’re vultures. She has only been home for twelve hours—”

Voices float up from the living room. There are two men wearing black suits standing by the couch, and Mrs. Tico is laying into them. One is tall and sinewy, and the other is shorter, with curly black hair and bright eyes. He’s smiling at Mrs. Tico.

Mr. Tico leads Rey closer, and the shorter man notices them. He’s handsome. He has a really nice smile.

“Rey Niima?” he asks. He offers his hand to shake, and Mrs. Tico scowls. “Poe Dameron, CIA.”

Rey glances at Mrs. Tico before she shakes his hand. Firm grip.

“You’ll need to return with a warrant if you’d like to speak with Rey,” Mrs. Tico snaps. “And she will have her attorney present.”

Poe widens his eyes and raises his eyebrows. He looks back at Mrs. Tico and laughs. “Well, she’s not under arrest or in any trouble, but sure. Sure.” He looks down at Rey and smiles again. “I wanted to ask you a couple quick questions, Rey—but I can come back another day.”

“She does not need to think or talk about that.” Mrs. Tico bustles over to Rey and touches her upper arm. “Do not speak to him. Wait until you have your attorney.”

Rey’s gaze wanders off to the side, avoiding Poe’s friendly smile. He lingers, watching her, then nods.

“I’ll come back soon,” he says. “I hope you get some rest, Rey. When you’re ready, I have information for you.”

He leaves a card. Mrs. Tico throws it out.

And the next three weeks seem to pass by like a dream: Rey starts therapy with a doctor she can’t remember the name of, and she usually sits quietly in her sessions or feigns sickness to cancel the appointment. It’s like she comes home, and the world lifts her up from the ground and spins her around, and she can’t find her footing.

Sometimes she visits Rose, and when she’s awake, she stares at the wall and doesn’t talk. Rey hears her crying a few nights, and she hears Mrs. Tico comforting her and singing to her.

But an idea comes to Rey one day—a way to dip her toes in to things and try to feel normal.

“College?” Mrs. Tico asks.

They’re having breakfast one sunny Friday morning: her, Mrs. Tico, and Mr. Tico. Mr. Tico co*cks his head and looks sideways at Mrs. Tico, who is already shaking her head and looks ready to say no.

“Just one or two classes?” Rey tries. “Just so I can go… out. Have something to do.”

“Honey, I don’t know.” Mrs. Tico cuts her eggs with the edge of her fork. “I think you need to rest a while longer.”

“It could be good for her,” Mr. Tico says. “She can bring Matt and Patrick.”

Mrs. Tico eats quietly for a little while. She sighs, then tells Rey she can pick two classes.

| | |

School does give Rey something to do. It’s weird being around other people, but it’s nice being out of the house and having a purpose. Conveniently, she gets to start classes a week after asking to enroll, when all the other students start.

She picks calculus and Western civ., just to balance it out a bit. Two security guards come along: Matt and Patrick, who hang back enough that it doesn’t look suspicious. Rey has her tracking app on her phone and a watch to call for emergency help. She’s not really worried.

She never thought she’d look forward to doing homework. It’s good, though. Having structure. Keeps her occupied.

She’s leaving class after her first full week when she spots Poe Dameron sitting on a bench under a tree. He waves, nudging his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose. Rey stops.

“I have information for you.”

“Want us to scare him off, Rey?”

She glances back at Matt, the slightly bigger bodyguard. Her eyes wander back to Poe.

“Um…” She shakes her head. “Can you give me a second?”

Matt and Patrick don’t seem thrilled, but they hang back. Rey approaches Poe, clutching her notebooks to her chest. He’s chewing gum.

“Jumping back in?” he asks. One arm is stretched across the back of the bench. Rey nods, and he looks out across the campus. “Good. Want to take a seat?”

Rey sits. Matt and Patrick turn in small circles under the shade of a tree, watching.

Poe draws his arm to his side and plucks off his sunglasses. “The big one has had two felony grand theft autos.” He gestures absentmindedly to Patrick. “Little one is a small-time computer hacker. Helen must have gotten them off a friend.”

“Oh.”

“Not dangerous, don’t worry.” Poe turns his charming smile on her. “Your previous bodyguard is a much different story.”

“He wasn’t my…” Rey’s cheeks flush. “What do you mean?”

“I know, I know. Not really a bodyguard, what with the aggravated kidnapping and unlawful imprisonment. But he was very protective of you. Killed a lot of his own guys over you.”

“I don’t know anything about that.”

“Yeah, I don’t care about dead henchmen, anyway. I do care about sovereign citizens of the United States who are taken hostage by international crime syndicates.” Poe tilts his head. “Like you.”

People walk by at a short distance, laughing and chatting. Rey watches and she and Poe are quiet for a minute. Maybe longer.

“I’ve been watching Kylo for a long time.” Poe waves a hand. “Ben, as he used to be known. Tough guy to pin down. He used to be German special ops—he’s pretty good at killing people, and pretty good at hiding. Ranks high in the syndicate.”

“I knew the boneheaded idea to kidnap two US civilians wasn’t Kylo’s—he’s cautious, where Hux is impulsive and stupid as sh*t. I figured he’d… dispose of you two within a week. But for some reason, he kept you around. Helen did owe them money, but—”

“From what?” Rey interrupts. She hesitates when Poe breaks into another smirk. “Just… wondering.”

“Helen is an investor, too. Just not important enough for me to bother with.”

“She is?”

Poe nods. Rey doesn’t want any more details. A clammy sweat prickles on her nape, and she suddenly feels sick. Not Mrs. Tico. That can’t be.

A breeze sways the tree over their heads. Matt and Patrick are seated on a different bench, and Matt is texting someone, watching them.

“He has a safe house in the mountains. Did he ever bring you there?”

Tears well up in Rey’s eyes. Why can’t it just go back to the way it used to be? Why does it have to be this way? Why does she have to know these things about the people she’s loved for most of her life?

Poe leans forward on his knees. “Our witness protection program is iron-clad. I’ll personally supervise your security.” He pauses while Rey sniffles, rolling her lips to keep from crying. “You could have a fresh start. Maybe someplace sunny.”

“I don’t…” Rey’s voice wavers. “I don’t have anything to tell you.”

“I think you do. And I can think of a lot of women and families who will be happy if you decide to share with me.”

Patrick is craning his neck, scowling. He nudges Matt and they get up.

Poe sighs. “Well, looks like Frankenstein and his monster are on the move.” He offers Rey a slim black business card between two fingers. “In case you change your mind. I know Helen threw the first one out.”

Rey takes it. Poe gets up from the bench and walks off down the path through the trees. Rey wipes her eyes with the back of her hand and clears her throat.

Matt stops in front of her. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah.” She stands. “All good.”

They walk her back to the Mercedes SUV and do a quick check before getting in. Rey takes her spot in the back seat, turning Poe’s business card slowly in her fingers. Maybe she needs to leave. Maybe there isn’t anything here for her anymore. Maybe there never was.

The ride is quiet for a while. Matt keeps glancing in the rear-view mirror.

“That car following us?” he asks Patrick.

Rey turns. A similar black SUV with dark tinted is following a couple paces behind them. Patrick bends his neck to watch through the passenger mirror and shakes his head.

“They’re turning off,” he says. “One of those stupid Suburbans everyone has now.”

Rey watches the SUV turn left at the next road.

Chapter 25

Chapter Text

Rey knows that the right thing to do is to talk to Poe. Even if everyone around her is doing the wrong thing, she should do the right thing. But she spends the afternoon staring at her bedroom ceiling, paralyzed by guilt, afraid of seeing Mrs. Tico. Poe said she was an investor. What does that mean?

The sun sinks lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the floor, and Rey still doesn’t move. She owes this to the other girls. She owes this to Sophie. She can’t just sit here—she can’t not help.

Her head is still swimming when she finally stirs after dark. Rey sits slowly upright in her softly creaking bed, slouched, boneless. She stares at the bedspread, the. heaves herself up. She shuffles out to the hall.

Rose’s bedroom isn’t too far. Rey peeks in and sees her sitting upright, eyes open but not focused on the flickering television. The volume is turned all the way down and there are only faint echoes of disembodied laughter from the sitcom is on.

Rey closes the door behind herself. “Just wanted to come say goodnight. I hope you’re—”

“I’m so tired.”

Rose’s voice is scratchy contralto, whisper-quiet, and not at all how Rey remembers it. She turns when Rose speaks, surprised. Rose barely blinks.

Rey tries to smile as she approaches. “It’s nice to hear your voice.” She takes the seat next to the bed and clasps her hands in her lap, twiddling her thumbs. “Do you need anything?”

Rose doesn’t respond. It’s like she doesn’t hear her. Rey’s smile fades and she looks down at her hands. Soft laughter drifts through the still, silent bedroom.

“I want to go home.”

Rey glances at Rose. Her dark, watery eyes slowly roam to the left and meet Rey’s. There’s a pause.

“Don’t you miss it?” Rose stares right through Rey, and her heart skips a painful beat. “Don’t you want to go home, too?”

“I… I don’t know what you’re…”

“I want to go home. I want to go home.”

Her voice wavers, dark eyes going wide. Rey gets up from her seat, unsure of what to say, managing only to mumble an excuse before hurrying to the door.

“Call him!” Rose demands. Then she screams, and its so blood-curdling that Rey flinches. “I want to go home!”

The door opens, and Rose’s nurse rushes in. She sweeps past Rey.

“Rose, honey. Rose.” She wrestles her thrashing body down on the bed. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“Let go of me! I want to go home!”

Rey shuts the door, and the noise stops.

She can’t breathe. Her hand snaps away from the door handle like it’s on fire, and she turns away, trembling. She runs her hands through her hair and holds them against her scalp. She’s just delirious. She’s just delirious. It’s okay. Don’t think about it.

Gotta get out of here. She’s gotta get out of here. She’s got to make this stop.

She goes to the bathroom and pockets a bottle of Rose’s Xanax. She finds the keys to the Mercedes in the basket beside the door, and she walks out.

| | |

There isn’t anywhere Rey wants to go. She drives aimlessly.

No one comes after her as far as she can tell, but she doesn’t have long before someone does. The bottle of pills burns a hole in Rey’s pocket as she circles and circles, losing time driving down long, isolated roads trying to find someplace comfortable and quiet. She isn’t going back there. She can’t.

Eventually she passes a diner with a flickering red sign, and that seems like a good place to stop. Mrs. Tico’s emergency credit card is in the console.

Rey shuffles inside. A bell chimes over her head, but the two old men sitting at the counter don’t turn to look at her. A waitress with curly red hair peers at her from the cash register and smiles.

“Sit wherever you like, honey!” she calls.

Rey sits at a booth in the back corner, her back towards the door. She has no idea where she is. She’s never seen this place, and she and Rose used to drive all over.

The waitress comes with a menu and a glass of water. “Did you need a few minutes, hon?”

“Yes, please.”

“Sure thing. Let me know when you’re ready.”

Baseball plays on the television hanging behind the counter. The waitress goes back and leans on it to watch with the two older men. Soft, indistinct noise floats through the quiet diner, and Rey thinks it’s kind of peaceful here.

She opens her menu with trembling fingers. Her gaze wanders to the bathroom to her left, and her thoughts wander to the pills in her pocket.

But she doesn’t want to ruin anyone’s day. Rey peers at the waitress over her shoulder and sees her smiling and nodding along in conversation with the men. She turns back to her menu and swallows. She seems nice. It wouldn’t be fair to do… that here.

The words on the page blur while she’s reading them as her eyes fill with tears. Maybe she should leave. She can take a bottle of water, park in the woods somewhere, and—

The bell chimes at the door.

“Sit wherever you like, honey. Be right with you.”

Heavy footsteps approach Rey from behind. She goes very still, eyes steadily widening. She thinks she knows those footsteps, but it has to be Matt, because he must have noticed her missing by now. It can’t be…

The footsteps stop at Rey’s side. She doesn’t say anything or move, and the baseball game drones on.

Fingers snap twice, and a familiar big hand opens over the menu, expectant.

Rey swallows. She reaches into her pocket with trembling fingers for the bottle of pills. She hesitates, staring at it for a moment, then presses the bottle into the waiting palm. Fingers furl around it, and it’s gone from her sight.

Her pulse thrums in her ears as Kylo comes into view. He sits across from her, stern and rigid, glancing up to the side as the waitress bustles over with another menu. Rey looks down at her lap.

“Well, that saves me some effort!” the waitress says. She sets down water. “Did we need a few minutes?”

“Two Western omelettes and a black coffee.” Kylo takes the menus and gives them back. “Thank you.”

The waitress leaves.

Neither speaks. Rey fidgets with the hem of her shirt. His hair is longer than usual, drawn back in a half-ponytail, and he’s wearing a muted maroon sweater instead of all black. Her engagement ring dangles from a silver chain around his neck. How did he get it back? She doesn’t even remember where she lost it.

Their food comes. Rey manages a soft ‘thank you’ before the waitress leaves again. Kylo drags her plate to his side of the table and cuts the omelette into small pieces, dark eyes sweeping slowly across the diner.

He pushes it back. “Eat.”

Rey hesitates, staring at the omelette. She peers up and meets Kylo’s stare, eyebrows raised, jaw slowly shifting as he chews. She hastily picks up her fork and eats. She hasn’t been eating much lately.

Kylo doesn’t talk, and neither does Rey. She steals furtive glances at him, hoping to figure out if he’s mad before they leave—because she knows she’s leaving with him. She sips her water and nudges a piece of ham around her plate. Maybe she should run away. Or she should at least try to run away.

But coming back home isn’t what she imagined it would be. Rose is never going to be the same, and neither is Rey, and everywhere she goes, it feels like she’s living in someone else’s dream.

The waitress returns with the bill, and Kylo leaves cash on the table. He motions for Rey to get up as he stands.

“Leave the keys,” he says.

She fishes the car keys from her pocket and puts them on the table. Kylo motions for her to proceed, and they walk out of the diner.

Three cars are parked out front now: Mrs. Tico’s Mercedes, a black Audi, and the black Suburban. Rey walks tentatively past the latter and sees two bodies slumped forward over the dashboard.

“Walk,” Kylo says from behind her.

Rey stops. Sweat beads on her palms and neck, and she’s lightheaded all of a sudden. What is she doing? She’s finally home—she got away from him. She should run. She should go back inside and ask someone to call the police. She isn’t going back there. She can’t go back there.

Kylo sweeps her off her feet with an arm around her waist. Rey scrambles, puffing in surprise as he drags her to the Audi. He tosses her into the backseat, and as Rey rolls on her back, he leans in, one hand on the back of the headrest, the other next to her head. She cowers against the seat, eyes wide.

His tongue rolls inside his cheek as he stares down at her. Rey doesn’t breathe.

“Have you enjoyed your trip?” he asks.

She isn’t sure what to say. She lays there, silent, staring back up at him.

Kylo seizes her throat, and her breaths come back, sharp and frantic. Her engagement ring dangles from his neck, reflecting the red glow from the diner’s open sign. She scrambles and grasps the front of his shirt, and he squeezes, unflinching even when she whimpers and squirms.

“You made me worry, Rey.” His jaw shifts from side to side. “It was unpleasant.”

Blood pounds in her ears. Her grip on Kylo’s shirt weakens, and his expression doesn’t change; doesn’t show a flicker of anything at all. Maybe this is fair. Maybe this is the way she’s meant to go.

But he releases, for better or for worse. Rey gasps instinctively, air rattling into her chest. She manages two breaths before Kylo grabs her jaw, squeezing again, and she thinks maybe he’s going to break her jaw—

He kisses her. Her eyebrows raise and she huffs, drawing back, but Kylo follows, persistent, deepening the kiss. Memories come rushing back as terror and excitement mingle in her stomach. She remembers this. She remembers being pinned underneath him, helpless, sobbing, trying not to enjoy it, trying to think of going home and not being able to remember what home even looks like.

His grip has softened when he stops. Rey trembles, staring past him, flinching when his fingers glide along her cheekbone to curl her hair behind her ear. He cups one entire side of her face in his palm.

“Do not try to leave me again, little one,” Kylo says. He strokes his thumb in a light line along the bone beneath her eye. “Or I will break your legs.”

Her chin quivers, chest tightening. Kylo kisses her forehead before he withdraws from the back seat, carefully lifting her legs inside, then closing the door. Rey breathes hard and fast, eyes wide, flinching again when he shuts the driver’s door. She doesn’t move. She stares at the roof.

Back home. The engine starts, and a small smile twitches at the corners of her mouth, tears trailing down her cheeks. She’s back home.