"Every second she is with him, he could be hurting her, Jacob, and that kills me!"
My partner stayed quiet for a moment, then spoke low.
"And every second we waste standing in a burning yard, she's still waiting for you to find her."
Those words felt like a punch to the gut.
I stared down at my oozing hands. If push came to shove, I'd let Hector spill every drop of my blood to save her life.
"She is in pain," I whispered. I can feel it. I just know it."
Jacob nodded once. "Then don't let that pain be for nothing. Stay sharp. Keep it together, buddy. I know you're hurting, but she needs you."
I drew in a deep, ragged breath. My hands were shaking.
"I need a win, Jacob."
"I know." He said.
"I need to hear her voice. She needs me to hold her, soothe her, protect her. I need to see that fucking fire in her eyes again. Not this silence. Not this guessing game. She is my kryptonite, my fucking queen, and I am not ashamed to admit that my heart belongs to her. I would die for that girl."
"I know, Atlas."
I exhaled hard, wiping the blood from my hands onto my jeans. "Let's go," I muttered.
"I can't stand the smell of this place anymore."
We climbed into the truck. The girls were already on their way to my place with Yara. I slumped in the passenger seat, my jaw tight, staring out the window as the flames vanished behind us. One more down, too many more to go.
I am going to tear Hector apart limb from limb when I flush him out. My Kitten better be in good shape when I find her, or I will torture him for the rest of his pathetic life.
Chapter 13
Trafficked
Kitlyn
Time dragged like a ball and chain. Slowly. It didn't matter whether we had been here for four weeks or a year. Every day bled into the next, a fresh new hell served on a heaping platter of repeat. Hector kept me close, never letting me out of his sight. As time went on, only Juan took Becca to the red room to join Layla for hertrainingsessions. The devil beside me didn't accompany them as much as he did a few weeks ago.
I had an idea that the trainings were getting more intense for Becca, but I didn't want to ask her what she had gone through. Besides, the cameras recorded every word we said. Once in a while we slipped in a few whispers, but it wasn't often. Neither of us wanted Hector to lockus in that bridle cage again, so we kept our thoughts to ourselves.
We remained naked, day in and day out. I wasn't even aware of my nudity anymore. Layla ate dinner with us every night like she was part of the equation, always silent, always obedient. Afterward, she followed Hector to bed like a remote-controlled robot, ready to be slapped, fucked, or degraded in whatever way he felt like. She still cried when he got too rough, but she never disobeyed, or mouthed off.
Not once!
Even Becca was being trained to be submissive. She was slipping, becoming more compliant as time passed. She was not only physically beaten, but they were doing a job on her mentally as well.
I was no stranger to whips nor discipline. Atlas made sure of that. The beatings didn't rattle me the way they would someone untouched by that kind of pain. I knew how to take it, how to breathe through the sting and how to disassociate; but Becca, she was a wreck at first. Fragile and unprepared.
They broke her down slowly, and now? They have her exactly where they want her. Obedient and gutted. A former shell of herself. It killed me to see what they had done to my best friend, but there wasn't a thing I could do about it. I just prayed we could hold on until we were rescued from this nightmare.
Hector hasn't violated me or Becca sexually yet, and I was thankful for that. He screwed Layla daily. I was whipped occasionally, but that even stopped because thebeatings didn't phase me the way he had hoped, so instead, he used other methods like hurting Becca to get me to comply. His biggest enjoyment was backhanding me or humiliating me as much as he could when he felt the urge to.
It was early evening again. Dinner time. My favorite part of the day, where I got to watch them dig into delicious dishes of grub while I drooled, wanting what they had. Instead, I was given a steaming bowl of either beef broth or chicken broth and that damn lumpy oatmeal. If the bastard was in a good mood, he would slip some vegetables in the broth.
My snacks for the past few weeks were raw carrots, celery and cucumbers. No sweets of any kind.
What a fucking sweetheart!!!
