The air still smelled like Hector's cologne, and I hated that it lingered here, reminding me of the nightmare we were living. Becca's arms were wrapped tightly around herself, her gaze fixed on some invisible spot on the wall.
Her lips were pale, her eyes still dull in a way that made my chest ache. She's been through hell with Juan and Julio and their fucking sadistic, brutal trainings. I leaned closer, keeping my voice low enough that even the walls would have trouble hearing me.
"He will not sell you, Beck. You heard him. He wants to breed us instead. I don’t think he will change his mind."
Only she and I knew he would get nowhere trying to get us pregnant. I'm actually thankful to Atlas for putting the implant in my arm. Her head turned just enough to meet my eyes, suspicion shadowing the icy blue in them.
"I'm serious," I whispered. "Hector is too damn money hungry. He wants to make as much on us as he can, and he thinks breeding is the way to go, and honestly, that is better than the alternative, Beck."
Her mouth twitched like she wanted to smile, but it didn't quite make it. "That's supposed to make me feel better, Kit?"
"It's supposed to remind you we have been through every challenge in our life together." I whispered.
Reaching out, I touched her hand. Her skin was cold.
Her voice dropped, trembling.
"Yes, but nothing we've been through has been worse than this fucking nightmare from hell."
I didn't answer right away. I thought about the nights when we were kids, the screaming in my house. The smellof whiskey and the empty, scattered pill bottles all over the place. The times when Beck showed up without knocking, slipping inside like my guardian angel in pajamas.
"Remember when I called you that one night?" I said quietly so the cameras couldn't pick up the sound. "My father had just died, and my mother was wasted out of her mind. Her perverted boyfriend was pounding on my bedroom door, and I didn't know what he was going to do."
"You were crying so hard you couldn't breathe."
I smiled. "And you came over on your bike in the middle of the night. It was one of the coldest months of winter. It was freezing outside, but you still pedaled to my house. You didn't even have on a proper winter coat. It was a type of lightweight windbreaker."
Beck shrugged.
"You needed me. You were my best friend, and still are."
The corner of my mouth lifted, but my throat was tight.
"And you're mine, which means I'm not letting Hector, or anyone, decide your fate."
I moved closer, whispering lower into her ear. "I faked being ill, and he left you with me. It worked, and I will do everything in my power to make sure we are not separated. Even if he fucks us, Becca, at least we will be together and neither of us can get pregnant. I'd rather be used for breeding along with you than have him send you to some man who wants to cut you up. The severe beatings and torture will stop because you'll be here, not with some twisted fuck who likes to slash women. Trust me on this."
She let out a shaky breath and leaned against me, our bare shoulders pressed together. Skin to skin. Not in the perverted way Hector would want us, but in a way only we understood. Two girls clinging to the last safe thing we had—each other.
"I believe you," she whispered.
We just sat with our own thoughts. The silence between us was fragile, like glass. The world we now lived in was cruel and evil.
One wrong move and it would all shatter.
We stayed close, our shoulders touching…waiting.
Waiting for Hector.
Waiting for whatever came next.
Waiting for the door to open.
The knock didn't come. The door swung wide, and Juan walked in as if he owned the air in the room.
An evil grin spread across his greasy face, a food tray balanced in one hand. "You two whores, go sit at the table. Your supper's here. There's no cook today, and we wouldn't want to starve my brother's two little pets, would we?"
We scrambled to our feet and ran to the kitchen, taking our regular seats. Becca kept her eyes fixed on the floor, shaking at the sight of one of her tormentors.
