Hector's gaze lifted, sluggish but mean enough to burn through me. It was the same evil look he wore when he tortured all three of us. He looked smaller now. Once a powerful cartel, now a fraction of a man. Even though he was a shadow of his former self, my heart still pounded in my chest. I hadn't seen him since we had been rescued three weeks ago. My skin crawled, and I became angry with myself because he still had the power to make me nervous.
I hated it.
Atlas's hand draped over my shoulder. His touch firm and reassuring, reminding me I was safe and that I am no longer Hector's prisoner. Having let go of my arm as soon as we entered this filth, Becca whimpered, pressing herself into Jacob. He wrapped his arm around her, whispering something low that I couldn't hear.Layla remained quiet, her eyes locked on Juan like she wanted to kill him. I gently rubbed her shoulder once the tears started flowing.
I was the first one to force myself forward, dreading each step; but it had to be done. I wouldn't let these three assholes make me a prisoner of fear.
My voice was low, but steady.
"You don't own me anymore. Look at you—bleeding, hunched over and smelling like shit."
Hector's lips curled. He tried to speak, but it came out as a low groan instead. I could see he wasn't long for this life. Atlas and Jacob made sure all three men got what they deserved. Juan's head rolled to the side, eyes barely open. Julio gave a weak laugh that died quickly when Atlas stepped into view from behind me.
I turned to Becca. She was shaking, but her jaw remained tight, her eyes burning with rage.
"Go ahead. Get it off your chest. Say what you need to say to these losers." I whispered.
She did. Her voice was shaking but fierce. The words rolled off her tongue like venom.
"You didn't break me, you motherfuckers! You're all pussies when it comes to dealing with real men."
She looked at Jacob, then at Atlas, and smiled.
"You're all nothing without guards and weapons. Just three fucking bullies who like to rape and torture women. I hope when it comes time for you to die, it's as painful as hell."
Layla was next. She stepped closer to Hector. Her face was pale, and her knuckles were white from clenching her fists so hard. Her breath was heavy, and for a moment Ithought she might collapse, but she inched in closer and hissed.
"I'm not your fucking slave anymore, you piece of shit."
Hector managed a crooked, bloody smile, his voice cracking. "You will always be a nobody, Layla. You were when we met, and you will remain that way, especially without me."
Without warning, she grabbed the blanket from his lap and pulled his dick with all her might, bringing a horrendous scream from his lips. I moved forward to grab her, but Atlas pulled me back, shaking his head.
"Let her go, Kitten," he whispered. "This is the time to get closure before he dies."
Just as the last words slipped from his lips, Becca joined in and started punching the shit out of Hector in his groin, his mouth, his arms, stomach, and anywhere else she could land a blow. His screams turned into gurgles. Atlas rested his hand on my back and gently pushed me forward.
"Go and release all that anger, Kitten. This is the time to come to grips with what happened." A shit-eating grin spread across his impossibly handsome face.
"I love you, Kitlyn Menard. This is my gift to you. Kick the fucking shit out of all of them."
Atlas and Jacob leaned against the table, legs slightly parted, arms crossed in front of their chests. They guarded us closely as we attacked the three brothers. I spat in Hector's face, kicked him in the leg and punched him in his barely recognizable face. We beat him to a bloody pulp.
He was so gone, he couldn't even flinch. Once we were finished with him, we went after Juan.
All three of us jumped on him, pummeling his face, neck and lower body. His screams filled the house, but Becca's voice drowned him out.
"You pissed on me like I wasn't human. You beat me until I couldn't scream anymore. I thought I'd die in that room."
I stopped mid-punch, my voice shrill.
"Bark like a fucking dog, chico."
His lips were bloody, eyes swollen shut, and he had his hands folded protectively over his lap, shielding his cock from more abuse. If I had the guts, I would have cut the fucker off, but I didn't have the stomach for it.
We could hardly hear his voice.
"Ru—ruff, r—ruff, " was all he could manage before his head slumped forward, snot bubbling from his nose.
