Kitlyn
The cold, callous way he whispered yes,made me want to vomit. Just hearing the word made it more real to me. I was living with a bona fide killer.
I shuddered at the thought. I should have stayed in my room while they were here, but I came out into the kitchen to be nosey.
Now, I couldn't unhear their discussion. I found myself trapped between at least two ruthless killers. Yara was as bad as Atlas, I was sure of it. I wasn’t exactly sure what Zach did, but I know he wasn't an innocent bystander regarding his brother's line of work.
I wasn’t surprised that he had a hand in Atlas kidnapping me. Just hearing it fall from his lips, I knew he followed all orders from his brother, no matter what those commands entailed. I think kidnapping someone is a serious crime, but it’s clear that no one who sat in the kitchen a few short minutes ago thought so.
They discussed murder as if it were nothing more than going out on a picnic. I felt the bile come up in my throat. I had to swallow hard to keep it from spilling from my lips.
I knew Atlas was an assassin, but hearing them all discuss it so nonchalantly made it seem more real. Maybe I had hoped he was exaggerating this whole time, but their conversation confirmed what he told me was true.
He was a cold-blooded killer. Yara prancing around with her tits on display got under my skin. That woman rubbed me the wrong way. She does not like me, and I am sure she wants Atlas to herself. The last thing I needed in my life right now was another ruthless killer whohatedme.
I am positive that without Atlas' protection, she would rip me to shreds if given the chance. Seeing Zach shocked me.
The man was almost identical to Atlas, except he was shorter by a few inches and had slightly less muscle. Not that he was any less intimidating.
Atlas had mentioned him in several conversations, but I didn’t meet him until today. This is the first time I’ve heard about Jacob. He was quiet the whole time he sat there. At least he didn’t crack jokes at my expense.
They didn't notice me immediately, so I stood quietly, listening to their murderous plans. Killing people meant nothing to them. It was just another typical day in their lives.
For the first time since being taken from my home, I realized the depraved depths of what I was dealing with. These people were insane, and I was caught up in their felonious shit show. The thought sent chillsdown my spine and the disgust I felt reached into the depths of my soul.
We were getting close to leaving for the island, and I wasn’t any better off with an escape plan than I had been since day one.
Although I didn't want to admit it, the kink I had been subjected to and conditioned to enjoy wasn't the problem.
Him being a heartless killer is the issue, and I am his prisoner. He keeps me caged up like an animal. I miss my old life, and I want it back! I have to get out of here, but how? The thought consumed me daily.
The man always keeps the remote with him, and he locks all the doors and windows twenty-four hours a day. I could feel my frustration bubbling through my veins like boiling water as I clenched my fists tightly in my lap.
Atlas’ deep voice interrupted me. “A penny for your thoughts, pet. Something bothering you?”
The man is too observant. He watches my every move.
I shook my head while trying to hide my discomfort.
“No, nothing is bothering me. I feel a little anxious, that’s all. I think I may be hungry.”
I was lying, and I sucked at it. He sensed it immediately, leaning close. His vast frame towered over the chair I was sitting in. He lifted my chin with his thick index finger, forcing me to look at him.
“Do not lie to me, pet. I can’t stand liars; you know what happens when you’re dishonest. I don’t want to spank the truth out of you, although it wouldn’t pain me to see your little ass turn bright red again.”
He chuckled lightly, but his look turned serious.
“Now give it up, Kitten. What's eating you?”
I swallowed hard, trying to keep calm. Telling him I was planning my escape wasn't an option, so I said a half-lie that was much more convincing because it was at least half the truth. I wrung my hands in my lap.
“Listening to you planning a murder made me ill. I, uh, I don’t kill people, and I don't know anyone who does. Knowing what you do for a living is nerve-racking, and I can’t help how I feel.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat, not sure how he would take it. This wasn't like dealing with a normal man here. I never knew what would set him off; I also knew he wouldn’t hesitate to take me over his knee and spank me raw until I told him what he wanted to know. So, I spilled half the truth.
That was Atlas. One minute, he could be gentle and sweet; the next, he could strike me with his belt in a flash if he were angry about something I did or said.
The only thing I would give him credit for, even though he was on the borderline of insanity, was that he always warned me and gave me a choice of whether I wanted to comply with his demands or fight him.
