Breeding Justice

3. Chapter Three Justice

Chapter Three: Justice

T he room was suffocating. Stale air, damp concrete, and the faint tang of rust clung to every breath I took. My wrists burned where the ropes rubbed raw against my skin, but I didn’t pull at them. The last thing I needed was to make it obvious that I was struggling. Struggling meant weakness, and weakness would get me killed.

Skylar, across from me, was the exact opposite. His long body draped over the chair like he was lounging at some dive bar instead of being tied up in a literal dungeon. He had that smirk on his face, the one he always wore when he was about to piss someone off. It was half his charm and all of his danger.

Bash sat a few feet to my right, his bulk making the chair look like dollhouse furniture. His face was as unreadable as always, but I could see the tightness in his jaw, the way his eyes tracked every move the guards made through the little grated window in the heavy metal door. He was watching, calculating. That made two of us.

I leaned back in the chair, keeping my breathing steady even though my heart was doing its best to escape my chest. I wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of seeing me panic. That was rule number one when you were a prisoner: don’t let them see your fear.

I had learned that when they had first trapped me in the building in Brickell and we had been playing all those…sex games. God, that felt like a million years ago. Now my husband sat next to me, my boyfriend in front of me, and his boyfriend (and my other boyfriend) were in charge of keeping my child safe.

The thought of Sebastian hit me like a punch to the chest. I had told Hassan to run, to take him and Zane and disappear, but doubt gnawed at the edges of my resolve. What if they couldn’t run far enough? What if Vito found them? What if SJ cried out for his mother in a world I wasn’t alive to see? The air felt thinner with every breath, the walls of the room pressing in like a vice.

If I thought about it for too long, it made me dizzy.

The guards outside spoke in low tones, Italian rolling off their tongues like a lazy threat. I didn’t speak Italian and I couldn’t make out everything, but I caught enough. Vito. SJ. Moving us soon. Separately. My stomach twisted so hard I thought I’d be sick.

Skylar looked up, the expression on his face worry.

“Do you think he’s okay?” he asked in a whisper.

“Zane?” Bash asked. “I’m sure we would’ve heard about it if he wasn’t.”

“How?” I asked.

“Vito would be gloating about it,” Bash said. “No, in this case, no news is definitely good news.”

I sighed. Bash knew more about this world than I did, and I really could only hope he was right about this. The phone call to Hassan had been terrifying…and now it had been a night, and we had been fed, and someone had brought us water. But beyond that, nothing. Vito had asked Hassan for Sebastian, but I hoped Hassan would listen.

I hoped he was running with Zane. Even if I never saw them again, and the thought made my insides twist with worry, at least they would be safe. At least our son would be safe.

Skylar twisted his body toward the door. e leaned forward as far as the restraints allowed, his ice-blue eyes locked on the door as if daring the guards to come back in.

“They’re cowards,” he muttered. “Not even brave enough to stay in the room. What’s the point of all this if they’re not gonna take a swing?”

“Maybe don’t give them ideas,” I snapped, my voice low. I didn’t look at him; I couldn’t, not when I needed to focus on keeping myself steady.

Skylar scoffed. “What? You think if we sit here quietly and twiddle our thumbs, they’ll just let us walk out? Fuck that. First one through that door, I’m biting his nose off.”

“Please don’t do that.” My voice was sharp enough to cut, but my hands were trembling against the ropes. I glanced at Bash, who sat a few feet to my right. He was still, so still he might as well have been carved from stone, but his eyes flicked toward me.

“You know he’s not going to stay calm,” Bash said, his voice a low rumble. “It’s not in his nature.”

“I’m right here,” Skylar said, feigning offense. “And yeah, it’s certainly not in my nature. I’m not built for patience, Bash. You know that.”

“Skylar,” I said, cutting in before they could devolve into another round of their usual back-and-forth. “If you start something now, we lose any chance of getting out of here alive. You think Vito’s men care if we bite or swing or spit in their faces? They’ll just take it as an excuse to shoot us and call it a day.”

“And what’s your plan, Justice? Bat your eyes at them and hope they fall in love?” Skylar shot back, his tone biting but his smirk faltering for just a second.

“My plan,” I said, forcing myself to keep my voice steady, “is to stay alive long enough to give ourselves a chance to think. A way to get out of this. If that means playing nice for a little while, then yeah, that’s exactly what I’ll do.”

Skylar leaned back, shaking his head in disbelief. “Playing nice. You’ve been around Bash too long. That’s not how this works.”

“Aw, thanks, Skylar. You think I’m nice,” Bash said, no venom in his voice. “Look, Justice isn’t wrong. We can’t make a move until we know what we’re up against.”

“Oh, we know what we’re up against,” Skylar said, his voice rising. “A bunch of trigger-happy arseholes who think they can scare us into submission. I say we give them a reason to be scared.”

“You’re not scared,” I said, meeting his gaze head-on. “Good for you. But SJ is out there, and so are Hassan and Zane. If we get ourselves killed now, what happens to them? Zane is injured, Hassan is running and Sebastian is two-years-old, Skylar. Beyond biting people’s noses, what is your plan?”

For a moment, the room was silent. Skylar’s smirk slipped entirely, replaced by something rawer, sharper. He looked away, his jaw working as if he were chewing on words he didn’t want to spit out.

Bash’s voice broke the tension. “We stay calm. We wait. And when the time comes, we’ll make our move.”

Skylar muttered something under his breath, but he didn’t argue this time. I leaned back in my chair, my body aching with exhaustion and tension. Every part of me wanted to believe Bash’s steady confidence, but I’d seen enough to know hope could be a dangerous thing.

I couldn’t shake the memory of the guards’ voices, the words I’d managed to catch. Moving us. Separately. The thought sent a jolt of fear through me, sharp and electric. If they split us up, our already slim chances of survival would shrink to nothing.

“Justice,” Bash said softly, pulling my attention back to him. His dark eyes were on me, steady and sure. “You holding up?”

“I’m fine,” I lied. “Just tired.”

Bash’s gaze lingered on me, his dark eyes searching. He wasn’t the type to call me out on a lie, but I knew he saw right through it. He always did. Still, he gave a small nod, as if to say he’d let it slide—for now.

The truth was, I wasn’t fine. Not even close. My mind kept circling back to a gnawing realization I’d been trying to bury since the moment we were dragged into this hellhole. I was late. Not just a little late, either. Weeks late.

At first, I’d chalked it up to the stress. After all, being in a constant state of fight-or-flight could wreak havoc on your body. But as the days turned into weeks, that excuse stopped holding water. I hadn’t told Bash or Skylar—or anyone—because what would be the point? I wasn’t even sure yet, and even if I was, what good would it do to drop that bomb in the middle of this nightmare?

But now, sitting here, tied to a chair with the possibility of being separated from Bash and Skylar—and SJ—the reality of it hit me like a freight train. If I was pregnant, what kind of world would this child be born into? A world where their mother was a prisoner, their father a man constantly fighting to stay one step ahead of death, and their older brother already a pawn in a deadly game.

I shifted in my chair, trying to ease the pressure on my wrists. The ropes bit into my skin, grounding me in the moment. This wasn’t the time to spiral. I had to stay focused.

Skylar broke the silence, his voice sharp and impatient. “I hate waiting. It’s bloody boring.”

“You’d hate the alternative more,” Bash rumbled. His tone was calm, but there was an edge to it—a warning.

Skylar rolled his eyes, the smirk creeping back onto his face. “You think? At least the alternative’s got a bit of action. This whole sitting-around thing? Not my style.”

“You think any of this is our style?” I snapped, my voice cutting through the tension. Both men turned their attention to me, but I didn’t back down. “We’re all in the same boat here, Skylar. None of us want to be sitting around waiting for Vito’s next move. But unless you’ve got a secret key to these ropes, maybe shut up and let us think.”

For a second, Skylar just stared at me, his icy eyes narrowing. Then, to my surprise, he chuckled. “Alright, Justice. Didn’t know you had it in you.”

“She’s always had it in her,” Bash said, his voice steady. “You’d notice if you stopped running your mouth for five seconds.”

“I notice everything about her,” Skylar said, looking me up and down, then smiling. “And it is delicious.”

I wanted to rub my temples. My headache was getting worse. But I did no such thing. “I told Hassan to run with SJ. No one’s coming to save us. That’s why we can’t let them split us up.”

The quiet settled over us again, heavy and suffocating. My mind went back to the guards’ conversation. Moving us. Separately. That wasn’t just bad; it was catastrophic. Alone, none of us stood a chance. Together, we had a slim shot at survival. But apart?

I leaned toward Bash as much as the ropes allowed. “We can’t let them split us up.”

He nodded, his expression grim. “I know.”

“How do we stop them?” I asked. “We’re tied up. We’ve got nothing.”

“Not nothing,” he said. “We’ve got our wits. And we’ve got Skylar.”

Skylar perked up at that, his smirk turning razor-sharp. “Oh, now you want my help. What’s the plan, boss? Want me to charm our way out?”

Bash shot him a look, the kind that could silence even Skylar for a moment. “No. But if they come in here again, we’ll need a distraction.”

Skylar grinned, and it wasn’t a nice grin. “Distractions I can do.”

“Don’t get yourself killed,” I said, my voice harsher than I intended. “Whatever you’re planning, just…don’t push it too far.”

Skylar tilted his head, his smirk softening into something almost genuine. “Relax, pet. I’m not planning on dying today. That would be terribly inconvenient. ”

And…he wanted to see Zane again.

That, I was sure of.

I wasn’t convinced that he would be okay, but there was no stopping him when he got that look in his eye. Bash leaned toward me again, his voice so low I had to strain to hear it. “If it gets bad, I want you to run.”

“Run where?” I hissed. “We’re tied to chairs, Bash.”

“You know what I mean,” he said, his tone firm. “If there’s an opening, take it. Don’t wait for us. Just go.”

I stared at him, my chest tightening. He meant it. He’d sacrifice himself if it meant giving me a chance to escape. “I’m not leaving without you.”

“Justice—”

“No,” I cut him off. “We either all get out of here, or none of us do.”

Bash’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue. I could see the conflict in his eyes, the battle between his instincts to protect me and his respect for my stubbornness. “Our son needs his mother, darling.”

Fuck. How could I argue with that? “Please don’t get killed.”

The sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway, growing louder. Skylar straightened in his chair, that dangerous grin returning to his face. “Looks like the entertainment’s arrived.”

“Skylar,” I said, my voice a warning. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Stupid’s my specialty, love,” he quipped, but there was steel behind the humor.

The door creaked open, and two guards stepped inside, their expressions cold and unreadable. Skylar’s grin widened.

Here we go.