Chapter 25
Rescued
Kitlyn
The halls that once echoed with guards' boots were silent now; the mansion was drenched with blood. Atlas kept a protective arm around me as we moved. God, he felt so good….so safe. Jacob helped Becca slip into his jacket, squeezing her close.
Behind us, two CIA agents dragged Hector, still tied, gagged, and thrashing like an animal. Maybe he thought Atlas was kidding when he said he was going home with him. The now powerless cartel boss cursed through the gag, his voice muffled and furious.
The compound that had been mine and Becca's prison for a month was collapsing.
Doors were thrown open. Guards were dead or cuffed, waiting to be taken away by the Mexican police.
The music from the ballroom had died, replaced by the crackle of radios and firm commands of agents clearing the rooms. Hector's reign was over.
The men who had come to buy us were on their knees with their hands cuffed behind their backs. I hung on tighter to Atlas as we walked through the main hall, my leather sandals sticking to the blood-soaked floor.
He pulled his jacket from his shoulders and draped it around me, tucking me against his side like he feared I would vanish if he let me go. Outside, the mansion looked like a different world. Floodlights lit up the cottages.
The gates were wide open, ambulances and police vehicles lined the paved road.
Dozens of girls were still being led out, some crying, others in shock, like they couldn't believe their nightmare was over.
The Mexican police guided them toward buses with blankets wrapped around their shoulders, while CIA agents barked orders into their radios.
Becca's breath hitched beside me. "Oh my God," she whispered, clinging to Jacob's sleeve for dear life.
"Look at them all."
Girls from every walk of life piled out. I heard so many languages, I couldn't keep up. I had never gone into the cottages, so I was oblivious to how many women were kept there. Their voices cracked as they stumbled into the night air, some free for the first time in years.
I watched as they were ushered onto the buses and then spotted her. "Layla," I gasped.
She stood among a cluster of confused victims, not yet comprehending what was happening. Her bandages were still visible under the fabric of her thin costume. One medic handed her a blanket, and she draped it over her shoulders.
She looked pale and exhausted, but she was alive.
Her eyes found mine, and for the first time since I met her, they lit up with hope. She rushed forward, arms trembling as they wrapped around me.
"You made it." She whispered, her voice cracking.
"You're alive."
I held her tight, tears flooding my eyes again. "So are you, and you're coming with us until you get on your feet."
Atlas's eyes cut into me, piercing but unreadable under the floodlights. "Kitten—"
"I'm not leaving her, Atlas," I said firmly, my voice breaking but resolute. "She has no family, and she was invaluable while living with that monster. She deserves a chance at a new life, too."
Becca nodded fiercely, her eyes shining.
"Please take her with us, Atlas."
Atlas looked at Jacob, who gave the slightest shrug, then back at me. His jaw tightened, and for a second I thought he'd refuse. Then he exhaled, his arm pulling me closer.
"Okay, she's ours now. We will help her get back on track, and she can stay as long as she likes."
Layla's hand squeezed mine, weak but grateful.
We were guided into a waiting SUV with three rows of seats. While agents loaded the last of the rescued girls into buses and ambulances, Hector was shoved into the way back with two agents on either side, his glare fixed on us, the gag muffling whatever filth he tried to spew.
Another agent took the wheel.
I curled against Atlas in the first row as the truck pulled away, headlights breaking through the darkness. Becca was tucked against Jacob across from us, his arm around her shoulders, whispering low to keep her calm.
Layla sat quietly beside me, leaning her head against the window with her eyes closed.
The drive was long, but for the first time in many weeks, I wasn't counting seconds in fear.
I was listening to the steady rhythm of Atlas's heartbeat under my ear, while his fingers brushed through my tangled hair like he always did to calm me down.
"You have my protection now, Kitten," he whispered, kissing my forehead. "This is over."
But I knew it wasn't over. Not while Hector breathed, bound and glaring from the back seat.
Not with the ghosts of the cages and the horrible abuse still fresh in my mind.
As the compound lights faded behind us and the black mountains rose ahead, I allowed myself something I hadn't dared in a month—to take a deep breath and relax because we were going home.
When the truck finally stopped, the air outside smelled different, not of sweat, blood, and rot, but of earth, grass, and the faint sweetness of blooming flowers carried on the mountain wind. Atlas's mansion was just ahead….lit but quiet, its high walls wrapped in safety rather than fear.
The moment my feet touched the ground, tears burned my eyes.
Although I've never been to this place, it was still beautiful and would be one of my homes.
Becca and Jacob slipped out beside me, his hand still firm on her shoulder.
She looked like a child in Jacob's oversized jacket, pale and trembling, but her lips parted at the sight of the sprawling house.
"It's real," she whispered, almost as if she didn't believe it.
Layla exited the vehicle, still wrapped in a blanket, her body weak but sturdy. Her eyes were wide, darting everywhere as if she were waiting for someone to drag her back to the nightmare we'd just left.
Atlas guided me forward, his palm resting on the small of my back. "You're home now, Kitten," he murmured. "No one will ever hurt you again."
I knew we were safe under his and Jacob's watchful eyes.
I also knew Hector would be bound and gagged in one of the guest houses on the property, and it left an uneasy feeling in my gut. The negative thoughts kept running through my mind like an old movie reel playing on repeat.
I shook my head slightly, not wanting to go there in my head. All of us would be okay with Atlas, Jacob and the guards watching Hector around the clock.
Inside the mansion was quiet, but alive.
Atlas introduced us to Maria, his housekeeper, and I was stunned to see Yara waiting in the wings.
I wondered what the hell she was doing here, but I didn't push the issue.
Just being out of Hector's house of horrors brought me great joy and relief.
I wouldn't ruin my happiness thinking about Yara.
Maria rushed toward us with fresh clothes, blankets and warm food that smelled delicious.
I would finally get to eat what I wanted without being taunted at the table every night.
I certainly wouldn't have to suck anyone off for table scraps.
The thought made my stomach flip. Again, I shook my head, willing the memory away.
Maria ushered us into the warmth.
Atlas and Jacob allowed us to get acquainted with the staff, while he and Jacob took care of Hector.
I didn't want to know which guest house he was in, and I wasn't interested in knowing what they would do with him, now that they had him.
I'd rather push thoughts of that dirty bastard from my mind and move forward with my life.
Becca clung to me as though we'd be ripped apart again if she let go. Layla collapsed into a chair, sobbing silently as Maria stroked her hair. Layla was with Hector for years.
It's going to take a long time for her mental scars to heal…
.if they ever do. Even my own head was playing tricks on me.
I couldn't sit. My legs shook, my heart raced thinking that Hector could burst through the doors any minute and whip us half to death, or worse…
.end our lives. Of course, I knew that was impossible with Atlas and Jacob here.
It was just anxiety and irrational thoughts that kept popping into my head. There was no way he could escape Atlas, so I calmed my racing heart and inhaled deeply. We were safe, and there was nothing to worry about as far as Hector was concerned. He would never be free again.
Maria led the three of us upstairs to take showers and change out of the skimpy costumes Hector made us wear.
We threw the flimsy dresses into the trash as soon as we removed them.
Once I stepped into the shower under the warm spray, my body relaxed.
It felt like such a luxury to use as much soap as I wanted and all the shampoo that I needed.
This part of the house was huge. Four bedrooms and three bathrooms, just on this floor alone. I'd take a tour of the mansion when things settled with Becca and Layla.
After our thirty-minute showers, the three of us were guided back to the first floor in our comfy pajamas.
Atlas had Maria order multiple pajamas and other clothes for Becca and me a few days ago before he and Jacob stormed the compound. She did pretty well with the sizes because they all fit us. We didn't mind sharing with Layla.
We made our way into the kitchen, bowls of soup placed in front of us when we sat at the table.
I wasn't sure I could eat it after what I went through with the broth, but this soup was hearty and full of flavor.
I ate slowly, each swallow fighting past the lump in my throat.
My mind went back to the broth, and again, I had to will the thought away.
Atlas and Jacob also joined us for dinner, Atlas sitting beside me and Jacob taking his seat next to Becca, sandwiching her between us. I had a feeling Jacob was attracted to her. Whether she could allow another man to touch her intimately was anyone's guess.
Everything felt so odd. The thoughtfulness of Maria, being surrounded by nothing but smiling, warm faces and eating without listening to snapping fingers or barked orders. Becca cried quietly beside me. Jacob rested his hand on her knee, soothing her, until she leaned against him.
My eyes burned hot with tears every time I took a spoonful of soup. Atlas got up and knelt in front of me, cupping my face gently. His thumbs brushed my tears away as they fell. "It's over," he whispered, his voice gentle…soothing.
"You're safe, Kitten. I've got your back."
I knew I was safe, but I wasn't whole. All three of us were traumatized, and it would take some time to heal.
Although the bruises faded on the outside, it didn't mean the damage to our psyches would fade as quickly, just because the walls changed. Layla barely ate her dinner either.
There was fruit laid out in front of us, and Maria even offered to make us some chicken, but none of us were up for it.
We all sat in silence, lost in our own thoughts, while Atlas and Jacob didn't ask questions or push for answers. These two hardened men sat quietly, acting like soft pillows, softening the blows of our tears.