Chapter 9
Trafficked
Kitlyn
After the doctor tended to Beck and me, two of Hector's burly guards escorted us to his room. They looked more like soldiers than guards.
Stone-faced, miserable, and armed. I was handed a small tube of ointment for the welts on my inner thighs and the long, angry one slashed across my stomach. The creep immediately snatched it from my hand, sticking it in his pocket.
Asshole!
I ended up with a few stitches in my vagina from the damage Juan left behind.
Just another routine fix in this hellhole.
Before we exited the infirmary, the doctor handed the guards a bottle of antibiotics to give to Hector to help stave off infection. We still had no clothes on and wore iron masks around our faces. We were marched through the main quarters just as we were.
I was not past the point of embarrassment yet. Naked, collared, masked; it still mattered to me. The manor felt deserted, and I was grateful. At least there were no other eyes to witness our humiliation.
Beck and I had seen better days. She walked beside me with her head bowed, eyes locked on the floor like she couldn’t bear to look up.
Her body was decorated with bruises and dotted with bite marks, but nothing severe enough to need stitches. Still, I worried the damage ran deeper. Her spirit, so cheery and upbeat before, seemed like it was already beginning to dim.
We came to a stop in front of a massive black iron door.
Shit. We’re here.
One of the guards knocked.
From the other side, a voice barked, sharp and annoyed—“Come in.”
The bastard’s already waiting.
My pulse jumped at the sound of Hector's voice. The name alone made my blood run cold. He wasn’t just cruel; he was evil in its purest form.
A man who fed off power and pain.
The guards shoved the door open and pushed us inside. We hit the bare floor hard, our knees crashing right in front of his polished Italian Brionis.
I moved to pull myself up, but Hector lifted a hand to stop me.
“No, kneel. Both of you. That’s where you belong in my presence.”
God, what a dickhead.
I wanted to spit on his ridiculously expensive shoes.
Fucking creep.
I looked around the room. I assumed this was his den. A pricey brown leather couch sat in one corner, and a brown leather loveseat sat in the opposite corner. A huge flat-screen television hung on the spacious wall.
The floor was dark cherry hardwood, covered by a good-sized black and gold area rug.
Fresh red roses rested in crystal vases on the two end tables near the couch and loveseat.
On the left was a door to a balcony. Unlike the red room we were tortured in earlier, the place looked warm and homey.
I knew better, though. This was anything but homey.
He gestured to the guards.
"I believe you have a couple of things for me from the doctor."
The stranger handed him the ointment and antibiotics. He snatched both from the man's hand and dismissed the two guards.
"Stand outside. If I need you, I’ll whistle.”
Both men nodded and left. Beck and I were alone with this monster. I silently prayed he wouldn't beat or torture us anymore. We were both dealt enough pain to last a lifetime.
After throwing the medicine on the end table, he bent down next to me and unlocked the metal cage, gently removing it from my skull. I had to dart my tongue back and forth to relieve the stiffness.
I also tossed my head from side to side, easing the kink in my neck. At least the collar wasn't as heavy as the cage.
He walked over to Becca and did the same. She flicked her tongue in and out of her mouth, working out the stiffness.
He turned to both of us, smiling almost pleasantly. He creeped me out, and his moods changed like the wind.
"I imagine you both feel much better without your heads encased in those contraptions."
We both nodded, but kept silent. I didn't know about Becca, but my tongue felt weird, almost limp and swollen. It was probably a good idea for me to keep my mouth shut so I would never have to experience that horror again.
I almost laughed at the thought. I always had a difficult time keeping my comments to myself. Once I was pissed off, I couldn't control the word vomit that fell from my lips.
I made a mental note to try harder.
While still kneeling naked on the cold floor, I glanced at Becca. She kept her gaze fixed downward as though if she stayed perfectly still, Hector wouldn't notice her.
His voice was calm, almost normal. No bite to it.
"Stand, both of you. I will give you a tour of the suite."
We did as we were told and followed him into the kitchen.
I couldn't believe an evil cartel owned this beautiful apartment.
Everything was so pristine. The walls were a soft cream stucco, with slight imperfections.
Teal-green marble countertops added lots of color to the room.
All the appliances were made of stainless steel.
The cupboards were dark wood.
There was an island with two wrought-iron bar stools resting in the middle of the white tile floor.
The kitchen table and four chairs were also made of dark wood to match the cabinets.
Hector pointed around the area.
"This is obviously my kitchen. Aside from using your bodies for payment, you'll also keep my apartment clean."
I shuddered at the thought of him touching me anywhere on my body.
His dark looks weren't revolting; his soul was.
The man wasn't as tall as Atlas, but he was tall enough.
His black hair was wavy; his complexion was tan and smooth.
No acne scars like his brothers. His physique was lean and muscular, but his soul was as black as night.
"Follow me." He said.
We trailed behind him into the bedroom. The room was vast. A huge king sized bed rested in the middle of the dark hardwood floor.
There were no rugs anywhere. Two huge black velvet wingback chairs like the one in the red room sat in each corner.
There were two enormous closets at the far end of the room.
The balcony to the left of the bed was open, allowing a cool summer breeze to drift through. Two large dog cages, each containing a thick mat, sat on either side of his bed. I glanced around, but saw no animals. Maybe one of his guards was walking them.
His voice rang out, strong and clear.
"This is where I sleep. You'll both be joining me until you are sold and shipped off elsewhere."
My stomach knotted at the same time Becca gasped.
Not that I wanted to remain here, but I didn't want to be separated from my friend.
I prayed Atlas would get here before someone offered to purchase us like tagged cattle up for auction.
The idea of sleeping in this scumbag's bed almost sent me over the edge. That's the last thing I wanted.
I certainly didn't want him fucking me with Becca present. The thought made me sick to my stomach.
His evil eyes stared at both of us.
"You bitches cost me twenty-two thousand dollars, and I'm going to recoup every penny."
His grin widened.
"I expect you to obey my every command. You will be fucked, degraded, humiliated and, if the mood hits me, flogged for the next three weeks until the debt is paid. Then I will sell your asses."
I broke out in a cold sweat just listening to what was in store for us. Becca started crying, choking on her sobs.
Hector was on her in an instant. He grabbed her cheeks with one hand, squeezing them roughly, his face barely an inch from her lips.
He spit the words out through clenched teeth.
"You will stop your fucking whining. Get the fuck over it. This is your life from now on. It's because of the two of you that I am out a lot of money and my brothers were beaten within an inch of their lives."
He let go of her cheeks and slapped her hard across the face, making her head snap back. She didn't let out a scream or a gasp; she cried silently, barely sniffling.
"Now shut the fuck up! Another peep out of your mouth and I will tear your ass apart with my belt."
She rubbed her reddened face and looked down at the floor. My hands shook as I watched him abuse my friend. The anger boiled inside me, burning through my veins. I've fucking had it with this motherfucker.
I turned toward the rotten douchebag.
"Why do you like to beat on women who are weaker than you? Does it make you feel tough?"
His head snapped up, a wide grin spreading across his face.
"Are you challenging me again, princess? You learned nothing tonight? You have stitches in your pussy, welts on your inner thighs and stomach, a sore tongue, and yet, you still choose to mouth off."
Becca breathed in deeply, but she didn't say a word. I know I have a big mouth, and maybe I should keep it shut, but this asshole was pissing me off. Let him beat me to a pulp. The only thing I worried about was him taking it out on Becca. I lifted my chin in defiance.
"It was just a question. I am curious as to why you would beat a woman." I pointed to Becca. "She is scared to death and can't help it if she cries. Can't you give her a break? She hasn't been trained yet."
He casually strolled over to me.
I was terrified, but didn't show it.
“Stand up.”
His voice was gruff, cold, and sharp as a razor's edge.
I obeyed, not daring to provoke him further. His fingers lifted my chin, forcing me to gaze into his cruel, empty eyes—eyes that held no remorse.
“Maybe you’re right,” he muttered. “She needs to be trained, and so do you, with that smart little mouth of yours.” He shot a glance at Becca, still kneeling on the floor, silent and motionless like a broken doll.
She was trembling, but kept quiet.
“You,” he barked, pointing at her. “Get up and go sit at the table and wait for me. Dinner is done.”
He turned back to me, grinning wickedly. His hand shot out, gripping my hair and wrapping the strands tightly around his fist. He yanked me toward the bathroom, and I let out a loud yelp, my scalp screaming in protest.