Page 40 of Yours to Break

It wasn’t a competition between friends to see who could outlast the other in withstanding the effects of Stockholm Syndrome.

I missed Lane. I needed to apologize to him, but I wasn’t sure my Draconian rulers would ever let me see him. I figured I had a better chance of seeing him than anyone else—considering the obvious—but Greyson had been furious with me for what I had said to Lane, and I had a feeling he held grudges.

I missed him. God, I fucking missed him. His smile, his laugh, the way he didn’t mind waking up with me wrapped around him like a boa constrictor, and how we’d get drunk and watch nature documentaries until 3 a.m., adding our own commentary in along the way.

I couldn’t have begun to count the number of times I had replayed our last conversation over and over in my head. I wished I hadn’t gotten so upset. I wished I had thought about what I was saying. I wished I hadn’t been so goddamn stupid. I wished I could’ve told him how much I loved him. I wished so many things. I should’ve told him that I needed him. That I was utterly terrified to lose the only friend I’d ever had. That I had been having nightmares of finding him dead, of seeing his name on the news.

I wished I had shut my dumb mouth for just a minute to listen to him. To be there for him. To tell him that I valued every millisecond, every word.

I wished I’d been a good friend.

And that I was so sorry.

That I hadn’t meant it. I hadn’t known.

I hadn’t knownsomuch.

* * *

It made me sick how easily the lines blurred, how easily I fell into the role they wanted me to play, and how easily I saw a space for me in their little family.

It didn’t help that I apparently was a natural-born submissive.

Whatdidhelp was when they brought another victim home.

Just a subtle—glaring—reminder that theykilledpeople.

Frequently.

God. What had become of my quiet, boring life?

“Come on, pet,” Hayes urged, pulling my leash to get my attention. “We’ll miss the show if Hudson gets tired of waiting.” Oh, heaven forbid.

I complied, although he would’ve just picked me up and carried me down to the basement if I had dug my feet in. The twins were absolutely huge, towering over me by a foot and weighing probably two or three times my weight. This, of course, resulted in them carrying me around like one of those little purse dogs.

It was overwhelming and took some time getting used to. I mean, I still wasn’t completely used to it, but their size didn’t scare me anymore. Now it honestly felt sort of nice, like their bodies were sheltering me.

As we made it down the basement steps and into the room withthe chair,I was shocked to find an elegant-looking woman in Hudson’s grasp.

I must’ve shown my surprise on my face, as Hayes quirked his brow at me. “What? We can’t kill women, too?”

“Um… I mean… I guess you can? I just expected someone like the last guy. Is she…?”

Hayes tilted his head in curiosity. “Is she what?”

I glanced over, taking in her pretty hair and fancy clothes. She looked like an executive or maybe an actress—someone important who clearly took pride in her beauty and poise. It was surreal to see someone like her in a situation such as this.

After pondering it some more, I realized that the man from before had been fairly attractive in his own way—not that hot people didn’t get murdered. So what made me react differently this time? Was it just because she was a woman?

Hudson coughed, drawing my attention to him. “Does she not look deserving of what’s to come?”

Hayes chuckled lightly, “Is that what you’re so in your head about, pet?” He reached out to ruffle my hair. I looked back at the woman, struggling against her bonds. Hudson had duct-taped her mouth shut, but I could hear the desperate pleas trying to escape.

I turned my body, whispering into Hayes’s arm, “Did she do something bad?”

He hugged me against him, molding me into his side. “You know we don’t care about that, right?” I nodded, understanding that they weren’t vigilante heroes, but hired killers. “Our boss—our uncle—he does care. He would never accept a contract for a kid or anything that bothers him like that.”

Hudson helpfully added, “Beverly here hires migrant women to work in her home, offering them a room and a better life. But they’re not workers, are they, Beverly? They’re slaves. She takes their papers, visas, or whatever, and threatens to have them deported.”

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