Chapter 18
Trafficked
Kitlyn
I must have passed out from exhaustion last night.
Cleaning and bandaging Layla's injuries took quite a while.
If she had been left with Juan any longer, I believe he would have killed her.
Someday that crumb will get his, and I hope I'm around for it.
I felt awful that she had to sleep in my cage.
She should have been in this bed, not me.
Hector never joined me, and I was more than thankful for that. I leaned over, checking on the girls. Layla was in one cage; Becca in the other. They were both wrapped in blankets, sound asleep. I jumped at the opportunity to shower alone again.
Not that I hated Becca's company, but we'd been practically tied at the hip this last month.
I jumped under the spray. The hot water hit my skin like freedom, just for that split second.
I closed my eyes and let it run down my face, trying to wash away the night; the blood, Layla's cries and screams as we cleaned her cuts with peroxide, and the stench of this place.
Unfortunately, the moment I shut the water off, it all came crashing back like nightmares often do.
Our abduction.
The cages.
The camera's.
The abuse.
And the knowledge that Hector's absence was only temporary. By the time I had dried off and stepped back into the bedroom, the girls were awake. Becca gave me a tired smile, one of those faint ones she forced just to make me feel better.
Layla though…she couldn't even lift her head. She looked like a shadow of her former self, the bandages across her ribs already spotting with blood. I knelt by her cage.
"You'll get through this, Layla. I'll try to figure out how to get you to the doctor."
Her eyes flickered, but she didn't answer, only nodded.
For once, I thought it would be better if Hector were here.
He is the only one who can order her to the infirmary.
I thought about kicking the door to get the guard's attention, but I quickly dismissed the idea.
It's better to keep them away from us on the other side of the door, where they belong.
I didn't trust them with their leader absent.
We passed the morning in brittle silence.
No one bothered to bring us breakfast, and my stomach growled—angrily, I might add.
Lately, food consumed my thoughts, an obsession I couldn't shake no matter how good or bad the day went.
Hunger gnawed at me constantly, a cruel side effect of the conditioning I'd been forced to undergo.
We helped Layla out of the cage and sat her on one of the kitchen chairs. We weren't allowed to sit on any of the other furniture while naked, except the bed. He treated us no better than farm animals. Beck and I made sure Layla drank sips of water every few minutes.
As always, we kept our voices low, careful not to let him overhear on the cameras.
We were three fractured souls clinging to each other in the wreckage.
Talk of escape, or of killing Hector, had vanished from our whispers.
Becca and I had that dangerous conversation recently, but I dare not let it surface again.
Some thoughts were too dangerous to speak aloud, even in the lowest of voices.
The clock on the wall tormented me, its hands creeping toward 1 p.m. with cruel precision.
On one hand, I wanted him to get here to help Laya, but on the other, it felt like the noose was tightening, meant to break me before he even stepped through the door.
Every tick hammered into my skull, a reminder that he was drawing closer.
Between the gnawing hunger pains and his returning, the dread curdled my insides, twisting my stomach into knots.
The fear coiled tighter with the certainty that Hector would be here soon, and when he returned, he would devour more than just my body.
He'd eat away at whatever pieces of me were left.
Part of his cruelty was keeping the cupboards and refrigerator locked so there was no way to even look to see if there was anything to eat. As bad as things were here, my obsession with fucking food wouldn't stop, and it drove me nuts.
Time passed.
Tick Tock.
Tick Tock.
Sure enough, by 1:30 the apartment door unlocked with a heavy click at the kitchen entrance.
My stomach flipped instantly. Hector stepped in, dressed sharply.
A predator wearing a businessman's smile.
His eyes swept over the room. Becca tensed in her seat.
Layla was pale and weak, barely taking full breaths; and I sat next to her, trembling in fear.
"Well, well," he drawled, shutting the door behind him.
"My whores look well rested." He walked over to Layla's chair, assessing the damage done to her by his brother.
He cursed under his breath as he draped his jacket over the stool at the island.
"That motherfucker. I told him to go easy on you.
We're having a fucking party tomorrow night, and you look like death!
" He pulled out his cell and called Juan.
"Get your ass to my apartment right now.
Don't make me wait for more than five minutes.
" He shoved the phone back into his pants, still swearing under his breath.
He made a few more calls, one of them to the cook.
"Bring lunch to my apartment. I'm fucking starving.
" His voice made me jittery, but order was restored once again.
He snapped his fingers, and everyone jumped.
Juan showed up in a record five minutes, sweat beading all along his forehead. He stood at attention like a soldier in front of his brother, looking like a nervous wreck. Hector circled him like a lion ready to strike its prey.
He pointed to Layla's broken body.
"Do you see what we have here, Juan? A fucking bloody mess. That's what we have."
Juan gazed at the floor, petrified of his own sibling.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take it that far. Before I realized it, things just got out of hand."
Hector sneered in his face, eyes black with rage.
"When you told me you went a little too far, I thought a few cuts here and there. I wasn't expecting multiple wounds that need a doctor's attention, you fucking idiot!"
He unbuckled his belt, removing it from his slacks.
"This is the last time you will damage my fucking property to this extent." With the belt still in his hand, he went to his bedroom to grab something from the closet and came back to stand in front of Juan, who was quaking with fear.
"Drop your jeans and remove your boxers. I am going to teach you a lesson you soon won't forget."
With shaky hands, Juan removed his clothes.
Hector grabbed his balls, squeezing roughly before attaching a black metal ring around them and locking it in place.
Juan winced in pain, but barely moved.
"Open your fucking mouth."
Juan obeyed without a word. Hector flicked a blue pill onto his tongue and ordered him to swallow.
"Now, put your hands at your sides, and you stay as still as possible. I am going to whip your fucking goddamn ass for being selfish and not obeying my orders, you prick!" Juan's Tee shirt was soaked in sweat. He knew he was in for it, and I almost couldn't keep myself from grinning.
Hector nodded toward Becca.
"You—kneel. You're gonna suck my brother's cock before I start beating the shit out of him."
Becca's face flushed an angry red, but her training kept her compliant.
Not a word of protest slipped from her lips.
She dropped to her knees and wrapped her mouth around Juan, taking him in without hesitation.
The filthy bastard groaned, reveling as she worked him, her head bobbing; her lips dragging along his shaft with well-honed precision.
Hector stood over them, eyes locked on every movement, feeding off the spectacle as Becca pushed Juan to the edge. When his cock was rock hard and almost purple, Hector cut her off with a single command.
"Enough. Sit back down and enjoy the show."
Becca immediately did as she was told just as Hector raised his arm and brought the strap down on Juan's naked ass with brute force.
He shrieked loudly, but his cock remained erect.
Hector struck his bottom ten more times before Juan finally collapsed onto the floor on his side, sobbing and trembling.
I couldn't believe the man still had an erection after that beating. Hector stood over him, seething.
"Ever since we were kids, you couldn't follow a single fucking order.
Either you're a goddamn imbecile, or you just enjoy getting your ass beat.
Being the oldest, you should have been the leader, but there's a reason Dad left me the business instead of you.
You're too fucking stupid to run it. Every last piece of product would be dead under your watch, and we'd be flat broke.
" He crouched beside his bleeding brother, voice low and venomous.
"You'll wear that cock ring for the next thirty minutes.
From now on, one of my guards will shadow you every second of the day—twenty-four hours, no exceptions.
I dosed you with Viagra, so you'll remain hard for the next four hours, and you're forbidden to get off.
The ring goes on every day, for at least thirty minutes, and one of the girls will take you in her mouth, but you won't be allowed relief.
Not once. Not for the entire week. And every single day you will swallow a pill.
I want to keep that erection going strong. "
He laughed in Juan's face. "You will not be allowed to touch any of the girls for the next month. You will not masturbate either. If I find out you do, I swear to god, I'll have you castrated. Do you fucking understand?"
Juan nodded, still crying.
Hector snapped his fingers, summoning the guards to drag his brother away. "Get him to the infirmary. Have the doc patch his ass up."
His eyes cut to Layla.