Lost in the Silence - A.R. Breck Page 0,93

Laying their dirty fingers on him and tainting him. My fists clench, my knuckles cracking from pressure.

"He's fine. Wasn't hurt at all. So, what, they surprised you at the house? Picked you up and carried you off?" I can't help it when my voice turns harsh. Just thinking about it makes me fucking shake.

"Yeah. They threw me in a van. When they talked about Wesley, I freaked out. Accidentally kicked some guy, and he punched me in the nose. I think it's broken." She winces when she reaches up to poke it, and my eyes widen when I look closer to inspect her face.

"Motherfucker..." I didn't notice the crookedness at first, but it's there. That fucker definitely broke it.

"Calm down, Jackson. You're shaking."

"I swear, I'm going to rip the throat out of all those fucks. They fucking touch my son. They fucking... fucking break your nose? I'm going to burn that entire fucking cartel to the ground." I spit between my teeth.

"I'm not going to keep telling the story if you're going to plan some suicide mission."

I look down at her. It feels like I'm breathing fire through my nose as I exhale. I'm heated. I'm planning and plotting in my head, and I'm going to work my hardest to find every fucker that even looked at Cara. I'm going to end them.

"I'm good." I lie.

"We ended up at some gas station, at least that's where I woke up. I tried to find help, but one of them found me and stuck a needle in me. Then when I woke up later, I was in some underground room. Underneath an apartment building… something weird. That’s where I met Daniella.”

Her voice cracks at that, and I note everything she's saying. Every place, every detail. It's getting stored in the back of my brain. She doesn't realize she's helping me get one step closer to checkmate.

"She was thin. So thin. You don't understand, Jackson. She was such a nice girl. She grew up in foster care but was so innocent. They took her, and she had no one looking for her. It broke my heart. I tried to help her. I tried—"

She breaks off on a cry, and I push myself to sit and pull her onto my lap. "You did everything you could, baby. You couldn't save her. There's nothing you could have done."

She nods at me, although it doesn't look like she really believes me. "She was younger than us. I imagined her coming to live with us in the spare room. She could finish school and get a job, and I don't know. I felt like I knew her. She was like a little sister." She shrugs, wiping her face before continuing, "They came in after a couple days, brought us to shower... this man... he..."

"He what, Cara?" I spit through my teeth.

"H-he touched us. H-he-"

"Did he fuck you?" I growl, my eyes like fire as they bore down on her.

She shakes her head aggressively. "No. He didn't. But he touched me. Stuck his fingers in me. H-he masturbated on me..." She shivers and sits up suddenly. "I need to shower. I'm going to go shower." Without another word, she crawls off the bed and goes over to the bathroom door, closing it behind her.

The moment it closes, I grab my knife on the bedside, whipping the sheets back and stab it right into the mattress.

Fucking.

Stab.

Fucker.

Stab.

Touched.

Stab.

My.

Stab.

Girl.

Stab.

I stab the mattress at least fifty times, leaving puncture wounds all across the center as I imagine it the face of the man who touched Cara. When that still isn't good enough, I grab the old-school clock from the bedside table and chuck it against the wall. The plastic shatters apart, and the pieces fall to the floor in a pathetic tumble.

The bathroom door creaks open, and Cara peaks her head out. "What was that?" She looks towards the wall and sees the remnants of the clock on the floor.

"It fell." I say emotionlessly.

She stares at me a beat, then closes the door behind her. When the shower comes on, I fume. Anger and rage building in me. I want to get up and walk right through the wall separating the US and Mexico, walking straight into their compound and beheading every motherfucker that breathes.

When Easton walks in five minutes later, he glances at me and stops. "What's up?"

I shake my head. "We have to get them. What happened last night?" We never had a chance to talk last night, so I'm not