22 Needs Discipline (1/2)
”She calls him silver eyes,” Gladiator smiles. ”Have you named us all, little one?”
”...maybe.”
”Tell us what they are.”
”Untie me first.”
”You killed a man today. You'll be lucky to ever be untied,” Cowboy drawls. I knew it. He's from around here. Native to these parts. He speaks the way I do, while the rest of them have various accents. They must have come a very, very long way to claim me.
”You all just killed a lot more men than I did! Nobody tied you up!”
”She's got a point,” Zen says. ”And if the nine of us can't handle one frightened girl, I think we have a problem.”
He comes over to me, walks behind me, and I feel the plastic being snapped free from my wrists. Free at last to use my hands, I draw them up around myself, protecting my body from these big, brutal men.
”Now,” Gladiator says. ”The names. I need amusement after battle.”
I give a shrug, and start going down the line, starting with Cowboy, who smirks at his name. Pharaoh seems pleased with his, as does Gladiator. Nordic Man seems a little nonplussed and tells me his name is Tore. Tattoo Face gets a laugh from all the men, including Tattoo Face himself.
”My name is Keanau,” he rumbles. ”But you will call me sir.”
”No, I fucking won't.”
He lifts a brow and I reconsider that decision a little, but hold my ground.
”She's disrespectful,” Tore says. ”Needs discipline.”
”She just has high spirits. She's brave,” Gladiator cuts in.
”Oh, she needs discipline,” Keanau growls.
”But not now. Now, she needs rest.”
It is Mattias who speaks. His words, calm and certain, cut through the growing tension and surprise everyone.