The guards all looked the other way, the set expressions on their faces telling her they’d seen it all before. And ignored it. Let it continue. She knew not one of them was going to stop the colonel from abusing the poor woman.
Disgust flared as the guards dragged her into the center of the room. She wanted to rip the “didn’t see nothing” expressions off their faces, but she’d settle for ripping their faces off period. What was it about assholes and scumbags that made them run in packs? Was there some kind of secret code—perhaps a silly handshake with a rubber chicken—that they used to recognize each other?
She sagged in their hold deliberately, making them bear her weight. Why should she make it easy for them? This was bad s**t all around now, and the only way she might possibly make it
