“LET HER GO!” Tragos yelled at him, thrashing hard against Gino and Tycho. The sight of Barak’s hands on Marcie was enough to make him stupid with anger and unfairness and disgust. “LET HER GO. BARAK, STOP IT! GINO!” He shot a look at Gino, betrayed - he’d always got on with Gino. They worked out on the same schedule, they’d run the same missions, he’d cheered on Gino’s fights as hard as anyone. But Gino wasn’t looking at him now. Tragos tried to slam his foot down on Tycho’s and got hit again for his trouble, though he took it better than Marcie did, well used to being punched in the face by now.
“I’ll let her go when I’m done,” Barak said. “Can’t promise she’ll be able to walk away, though,” he grinned at Marcie, squeezing her throat a little tighter. “Bet he doesn’t fuck you as hard as I’m going to,” he said, and released her in order to pull off his shirt, revealing a hard chest of scars and tattoos, and two punishing, muscled arms.
“Ares is going to fuck you up!” Tragos threatened, though the threat hadn’t worked in the past and why would it work again now? It was true through. He’d seen Ares in action. He’d seen Ares when Apollo overstepped the mark. It was true and it was the only thing Tragos had to hold onto. How could anyone doubt Ares? How could anyone be so stupid to doubt him. “You’re all stupid fucking cunts if you think he’s gone weak! Fuck you! FUCK you! He’s going to fucking DESTROY you!”