Chapter 24
Rescued
Kitlyn
Hector's head rolled on the floor for a moment before his eyes snapped open. The realization hit fast. His wrists were tied, ankles bound and his precious control was gone. Becca and I stood over him, both of us disheveled and bruised, but no longer helpless.
Not anymore.
I crouched beside him, ripping the gag from his mouth. He licked his lips slowly, tasting the blood at the corner where Atlas had clocked him, and then smiled. The same wicked grin I'd seen thousands of times.
"Well, well, I guess your stalker boyfriend finally found you," he murmured, glaring at me and Becca, his voice hoarse but cruelly amused.
"I didn't know you cared so much, green eyes. Tying me up to keep me all to yourself? If I didn't know better, I'd think you were falling for me."
Rage snapped through me. My palm cracked him in the face, hard enough to sting my hand. His head whipped to the side, but he only laughed, the sound low and mocking.
"God, I love that fire in you. Makes me hard just watching the spark in those fucking eyes."
Becca surged forward before I could stop her. She slammed her fist into his jaw. "Shut the fuck up!" She screamed, her voice raw from weeks of swallowed pain.
Hector chuckled through the blood that dripped down his chin. "Ah…icy blue finally grew some claws. I wondered when you would show them."
He tilted his head toward me, his eyes dark and gleaming.
"Careful, green eyes. Your little friend may fall into favor with me, and you'll be second in line. I love her energy."
I stepped closer and pulled his head enough to expose his Adam's apple. I pressed the knife against his throat just hard enough for him to feel the cold metal on his skin. "You don't get to look at her. You don't get to breathe her name."
He sneered. "You're adorable when you try to play the executioner, but we both know you don't have the guts. You'd rather save me for your boyfriend, wouldn't you?"
His lips curled into a sarcastic grin.
"Atlas, the assassin. Tell me—does he fuck you as hard as I did last night? You know, you will always hear my voice in your head, green eyes. I will always own your soul."
My vision blurred with hot tears. He was right.
I could never play the executioner, no matter what he did to me, but I didn't back down.
"The only difference between you and him is that when he touches me, it's because I want him to. Abusing women is all you're good for. You have no balls without your scumbag guards surrounding you. You're pathetic."
There was a flicker of something in his expression.
Anger maybe, or jealousy, but he buried it fast, twisting it back into sarcasm.
"Are you too stupid to know the difference between love and obsession?
Sounds like he's obsessed, not in love, green eyes.
Crave his touch all you want, but he kidnapped you just like I did. "
He grinned, his voice ridiculing.
"He's no better than I am. We are cut from the same cloth, don't kid yourself."
I pressed the knife harder against his throat, firm enough to make him suck in a breath. "He may have kidnapped me, but he never treated me the way you did. Say another word, and I'll open you up right here."
Becca crouched beside me, her eyes blazing. "Do it, Kit. He deserves it. After everything…what he did to the girls and what he did to us."
She spat in his face.
"He's not even a man. He's a fucking parasite."
Hector's tongue darted out, licking the spit on his cheek. Then he grinned wide and feral.
"Mmm. Salty. Even your hate turns me on, icy blue."
My hand shook with the knife, every muscle in my body screaming to drive it into his throat. He wasn't afraid of dying; that much was obvious, but it wouldn't happen by my hand.
I wasn't brave enough to take his life, but for the first time since we'd been kidnapped, Becca and I towered over him. Now he was the one trembling at the edge of someone else's mercy, and I loved it.
I moved in close, my voice shaking, but firm.
"You're right about one thing. I'll hear your voice in my head forever, but it won't be because you own my soul. It'll be because when you die, I'll remember you choking on your own blood."
His smile faltered then, just slightly enough for me to know he felt it…the shift, and for the first time probably in his life, Hector realized he wasn't the one who was in control anymore.
The knife slipped from my hand, clattering against the floor as the door creaked open. For a minute, I thought it was another guard coming to drag us out. Then I saw his broad shoulders and the way he filled the doorway.
My chest heaved.
"Atlas," I gasped. "Finally."
My knees buckled again, and then he was there, catching me once more before I hit the floor.
I buried my face in the smooth fabric of his jacket, sobs tearing out of me uncontrollably.
His arms wrapped around me, solid, unyielding; caging me against the only place I've ever felt safe.
He pressed his face into my hair, inhaling deeply.
"I've got you," he whispered, voice raw, fierce—breaking in places I'd never heard before. His lips touched my temple, my cheek, finally pressing against mine in a kiss that wasn't about hunger or ownership. It was about coming home.
"Kitten…my kitten. You're safe now, in my arms where you belong."
The month of fear and pain cracked wide open, spilling between us as I clung to him, shaking like a leaf.
He didn't push me to be strong. He just held me, letting me completely fall apart in his arms.
A dark chuckle echoed from the floor. Hector, blood on his lips, watched us with eyes that glimmered with venom.
"Awe," he crooned sarcastically. "Green eyes finally reunited with her assassin kidnapper. Sweet. Kiss her harder, Atlas, maybe she'll forget how hard I fucked her last-night. When she closes—
Atlas's boot pressed down on his neck, cutting him off. His smile was deadly and calm.
"Keep talking, Hector. Every word you spit is another reason to keep you alive longer. You're not dying tonight. You're coming home with me."
I shivered at his tone.
The promise of torture and death hung in the air.
Beside us, Becca let out a broken sob.
Jacob was there instantly, pulling her against his shoulder, wrapping his arms around her small frame.
He bent his head, murmuring low, his voice soothing in a way I'd never have thought he was capable of.
"Easy, sweetheart. You're in good hands now. He can never hurt you again. We'll make sure of that."
Becca's fists bunched into his shirt, her body trembling, but instead of pulling away, she pressed closer, clinging to him like he was her anchor in the storm. His hand smoothed over her back, slow and careful, holding her steady.
Atlas removed his boot from Hector's neck, hugging me closer. I lifted my head from his chest just enough to look up at him. His eyes softened instantly, the hard edge of the assassin fading into something I hadn't seen in many weeks since my captivity….love, naked and unguarded.
"You came for me," I whispered.
His forehead touched mine, his breath warm.
"There was never a chance I wouldn't."
Hector laughed again, low and ugly, even with the threat of Atlas smashing his skull in.
I guess the idiot couldn't help himself.
"You're all pathetic. All this kissing and hugging.
You should have used my method to break green eyes, big bad assassin boyfriend.
If you had, she would've been with you instead of at the club the night my brothers took her. "
Atlas regarded him calmly, a dark smile curving his lips.
"Like I said, Hector, keep talking. It fuels my anger more. You touched what was mine, and I can promise you, your death will not be quick, or pretty."
Finally, Hector shut his trap. I glimpsed the fleeting look of terror on his face, and I couldn't hide how satisfied I felt at that very moment.