The nights were the hardest—the screams echoing through the walls like ghosts that wouldn't rest. I had my share of night terrors, but Becca's were relentless.
I hadn't realized the depth of what she endured until she shared it in group sessions with us.
Juan and Julio had destroyed her in ways I could barely stomach. Using her as their toy, their punching bag and their human toilet. They beat her, jerked off on herrepeatedly, slashed her daily, and urinated on her. They even broke the rules that Hector had set by sticking things into her vagina when they weren't supposed to. Whether he missed it or ignored it, we'll never know.
The scars they carved into her weren't just physical. They sank deep into her psyche. Atlas offered to cover her counseling for as long as she needed, but Jacob stepped in stubbornly, insisting he'd handle her care. He hovered over her like an overprotective boyfriend. I knew him to be as ruthless as Atlas, but with her, he was gentle and caring.
I caught the way he looked at her and the way his hand stayed clasped with hers when she trembled at the doctor's office. She didn't even flinch when he stayed with her in the exam room when she saw the gynecologist.
That's something I never thought she'd allow during the check-up we were all subjected to.
Atlas and Jacob insisted on making sure we were okay after all the sexual abuse we endured. Somehow, Becca trusted Jacob. She leaned on him for emotional support, and he happily obliged. Layla and I managed better.
She had been trained into obedience for so long that her threshold for pain and humiliation was warped into something she looked at as almost normal. And me? Atlas had already conditioned me with straps and paddles before Hector ever got his hands on me, so I could stomach more than most.
Still, the panic attacks crept in at odd hours, leaving me terrified and trembling. Atlas didn't push when I was having a meltdown. He kept his distance, letting me knowhe was there if I needed him. The truth was, I worried about us. About sex.
I loved him with everything I had, but sometimes the thought of being touched anywhere below the waist made me cringe. Atlas hadn't pressed the issue.
He hasn't even asked me to sleep in his bed yet. He understood. For now, I bunked with Becca and Layla. We needed each other more than ever.
Hector had forced us into twisted sexual acts with Layla, but that wasn't our choice. It left a bitter taste I didn't want staining the bond we built. Becca was my sister in every way that mattered, and Layla? She'd become one too. She was never the enemy, just another one of Hector's victims who had no choice but to follow orders.
She was eighteen when she met Hector. They met at a club, and she wanted out from under her abusive father. Hector played the role of loving boyfriend the first month after she moved into his compound in Mexico.
He was the man who promised to change her life for the better, but Layla only got chains and captivity instead. She was used as a sex toy by many of Hector's men over the years.
She is twenty-two now, still young enough to make a future for herself. With the right support, I believe she could thrive. Maybe we were still incredibly fucked up because Hector and his brothers weren't too far from us.
We knew they were still locked in the guesthouse across the property. Two guards rotated shifts outside their door. I knew from the videos Atlas brought up whenI asked to see the footage. All three brothers were bound, gagged and bruised from head to toe.
They had dried, crusty blood covering their bodies. Jacob and Atlas made it their job to visit at least twice a day to beat and torture them. Maybe I needed to see the punishments they were being put through to start my journey toward healing.
I had no sympathy for them, but I wasn't one to find pleasure in others' suffering, no matter their crimes. Although I thought about witnessing them being tortured many times, I wasn't that courageous. This was Atlas and Jacob's expertise. Knowing they were taking care of it was good enough for me.
I never showed the videos to Layla or Becca. I didn't see the point. Atlas said the best way to beat our fears was to face them. My stomach churned at the thought of seeing those scumbags again, but he was right.
We couldn't keep hiding from our memories.
We shouldn't allow them to have anymore power over us. The more we feared the past, the more it still controlled us. If we shrink away from intimacy, that means they are winning. It meant Hector and his brothers still held pieces of us.
If we ever wanted to claim our lives back, we had to look our monsters in the eye.
When Atlas came to me with the idea, I didn't answer at first. My throat locked, flashbacks rising to the surface, but then I thought of Becca always trembling in her sleep and crying out in terror, and Layla, quiet and hollow, staring at nothing. She zoned out a lot.
I think we need to face Hector and his brothers. I would discuss it with Layla and Becca later today. If everyone agreed, we could head to the guesthouse after dinner.
It wasn't easy getting the girls to agree to confront their fears, but they relented eventually. After we finished eating, the five of us walked the bumpy path toward the guesthouse. Each step felt heavier than the last. It took a lot of effort for me to move my legs. Becca clung to my left arm, while Jacob held onto her right hand, whispering words of encouragement.
I knew she was a nervous wreck. Her palms were trembling and clammy to the touch. Layla trailed behind us, her chin down, shoulders sagging. She had been with Hector the longest; I couldn't imagine what thoughts were going through her mind right now. Atlas walked right beside me, his hand protectively resting on my back, pushing me forward as we continued on our trek to meet the monsters who haunted our dreams at night.
The guards nodded as we approached, and they unlocked the door. As soon as we stepped in, the smell almost made the five of us keel over and chuck up our dinner. The memory of Hector entering the van where me and Becca spent the night flashed through my mind quickly.
He had a rag over his nose because the stench was almost unbearable. Now look at him. He had no choice but to deal with it. The place smelled of piss, blood andsweat. It was revolting. I'm sure this was done purposely on Atlas's part.
Hector, Juan and Julio were bound to their chairs, their swollen faces marked with purple bruises and fresh wounds. Their lower halves were draped with small blankets, sparing us the sight of their nasty cocks. I didn't want to think about Hector's fucking junk. He made me sick to my stomach.
For a moment, it all became too much. I couldn't breathe. My body froze, telling me to run. I didn't want to confront my past with these losers. Atlas must have picked up on my anxiety and squeezed my hand, nodding with a slight smile on his lips, assuring me that everything would be okay.
