He inhales sharply, the anger simmering beneath the sadness. “He’d throwtwoslices of bread at me… like I was a fuckingdog. That was all I got in a day, andsometimesthe bread was soggy from the sea spray.” Another harsh, self-deprecating laugh. “I wassohungry… I still ate it anyway.”
His voice drops lower. “And to drink… all I had was a bucket of disgusting seawater. It made me throw up even more, so eventually I just stopped drinking it. I chose dehydration instead.”
My jaw clenches so tightly it aches. Ray glances at me but stays quiet.
Kit’s voice cracks slightly. “He kept injecting me with something… I don’t even know what it was. It made me so nauseous. I was throwing up constantly, but there was nothing in my stomach, so all that came up was bile. It burned my throat so bad… over andoveragain.”
There’s a long pause. I can hear him breathing shakily.
“And when he cut myface…” Kit lets out a bitter, broken sound, something between a laugh and a sob that makes my stomach turn. “Do you haveanyidea what thatfeelslike?”
His voice trembles with rage and disgust. “When someone drags a blade slowly across your face while you’re tied down… helpless… screaming… the way the skin just…splitsopen under the edge. That sharp,burning sting that turns into fire. The blood pouring hot down your cheek, into your mouth, down your throat… the metallic taste of it. I could feeleveryinch of the blade tearing me open. I thought he was going to keep going. I really thought he was going to carve all the way down to the bone… just to see how much I could take before I passed out.”
He lets out another shaky, disgusted laugh. “I could hear the sound it made… wet,ripping. Like cutting through meat.”
White-hot rage floods through me. My fists clench so hard my knuckles turn white. The image of Finn slicing into Kit’s face plays behind my eyes like a nightmare I can’t escape. I take a step toward the door without thinking.
Ray’s hand lands firmly on my shoulder. “Easy, boss,” he says under his breath. “Let him get it out. He needs this.”
I force myself to stay still, but my breathing has turned rough. I hate every second of this… hate hearing what that piece of shit did to my boy. Hate that I wasn’t there to stop it. Hate that Kit has to carry these memories now.
Kit continues, his voice quieter but no less angry. “I kept thinking I just had to survive. No matter what. So… I did.”
The silence that follows is heavy. Ray keeps his hand on my shoulder, grounding me. I don’t move. I just stand here, staring at the door, torn between pride at howstrong Kit has been and a sick, violent fury that threatens to tear me apart. We don’t go in, not yet. This is Kit’s moment. And as much as it kills me to hear it, I owe him the chance to say it all.
???
I’m pacing outside the cell door like a caged animal, jaw clenched so tight it hurts, eyes burning with barely contained rage. Every word Kit says to Mitch and James feels like a blade dragged across my own skin. I hate this. Ihatelistening to what that psychotic fuck did to him. I hate that Kit had to endure it.
I wonder if he’ll be angry at me… for keeping the brothers down here, for not telling him, for letting them stay alive this long. Who the fuck knows.
Then it goes quiet… Kit’s voice cuts off completely. I stop pacing and look at Ray, frowning. Before either of us can speak, a scream rips through the audio feed… high-pitched, raw, and piercing. Ray flinches hard, slaps a hand over one ear, and quickly kills the audio.
I don’t wait another second. I shove the door open and step inside. Kit’s standing there, cracking his knuckles slowly. A small black karambit knife is buried under Mitch’s jaw, not deep enough to kill, but enough to make blood gurgle and choke him with every ragged breath. I just stand here, staring. James is murmuring frantically behind the tape over his mouth, eyes wide with terror.
Kit turns at the sound of the door and finally notices me. His eyes go wide and he jumps slightly, whispering, “Shit…”
I frown, staring back at him, wondering if he thinks he’s in trouble. Then step closer and reach out, using the pad of my thumb to smear a streak of blood from his plump bottom lip. No one else’s blood belongs on him, ever. Kit’s breath catches and I can feel the exhale ghost over my skin before he closes his mouth again.
Ray walks in behind me and lets out a low whistle. “Well, shit… looks like we went easy on them, boss.”
Ray yanks the karambit out of Mitch’s jaw, pulling another agonised scream from the man, then casually tosses the bloody blade into the red bucket by the door, with the rest of the tools that need cleaning.
Without hesitation, Ray pulls his own gun from his belt and holds it out to Kit. Kit stares at the gun, then at Ray, then up at me with wide, uncertain eyes. I grunt softly and nod once, squeezing his shoulder firmly.
Ray grins. “Let’s see that aim up close, Christopher.”
Kit takes the gun with visibly shaky hands, suddenly shy and far less confident now that I’m watching him. He looks smaller than ever in my oversized clothes, yet somehow more dangerous than I’ve ever seen him. The air is thick with the metallic scent of blood and fear.
Ray leans casually against the tool table to the side, arms crossed, watching everything with quiet interest.
I move behind Kit without a word, pressing my chest flush against his back. My arms come around him, wrapping him completely as I cover his smaller hands with mine.
“Easy,” I murmur low against his ear, my voice rough. “You’re holding it too tight.Breathe.”
Kit’s breath stutters, but he doesn’t pull away. I can feel the tension in his body, the way he’s trembling between rage and uncertainty.
I adjust his grip, guiding his fingers into the proper hold, my larger frame completely enveloping him from behind. My chin rests near his temple as I speak softly, only for him.
