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The cold floor under my ass starts to make my skin grow numb while they take their positions on either side of me.
“Shame she’s one of the products. I’d love to get a hit of this one,” the guard who hasn’t spoken yet finally says, and my stomach lurches.
A product?I’m a product? My mind races as I think back to Jeffrey’s words. A breeding facility…
This is a fucking baby factory.
I ache to place my hand over my small bump.
To console the baby I didn’t even think about a few hours ago.
My eyes sting again, this time battling tears that threaten to fall. I look down at the concrete beneath my bones so the two men don’t notice my weakness.
More voices float through the corridor, and I look up from behind my eyelashes, just slightly without bringing my head up too much, in time to see two men bringing Niccolò around the corner. He has a cloth over his head, and he thrashes against the men as they attempt to walk him toward me.
“Knock the fucker out again. Give him more this time,” one of the guards trying to hold on to Niccolò grunts out in frustration.
The other takes a vial of something out of his pocket.
My instincts scream at me to call out for him, to let him know I’m here.
The man is worried sick. I can feel it, somehow. The man who has done so much to protect me, who has divulged his deepest fears and his scars and the things that have made him who he is…all to me. I know he has to be killing himself over this entire situation, and I physically ache to let him know I’m here, that I’m okay, but I don’t.
I remain silent.
Jeffrey’s words replay in my head.
If the guards want him to know I’m here, they’ll take off the head covering.
And if they don’t, I won’t cause attention to myself by announcing that I’m here.
I have to think of this baby before Niccolò, and I don’t think he would condemn me for that.
I need to be strong and resilient and keep my head on my shoulders. I need to listen to Jeffrey, even if I don’t understand why he’s helping me. I’m not in a position to trust anyone in this place, but frankly, I don’t know that I’m in the position to do much of anything if I can’t keep some semblance of hope.
The only thing that matters right now is keeping this baby safe.
Protecting what’s mine.
And while I couldn’t do it all those years ago, I’m sure as hell going to fucking do it this time.
43
NICCOLÒ
The sound of groaning wakes me up.
It’s as if the person is in complete and total agony, like he’s hanging on by a fucking thread. A deep, guttural, pain-filled grumbling permeates the space around me, swallowing me whole.
It’s almost enough to make me sick to my stomach in the strangest way. I’ve never been physically ill over a fucking noise before, but right now…
Right now, my stomach is lurching as the sounds of an unknown man’s pain echo in my ears.
I open my eyes, and that’s when it hits me.
It’s me.
Consciousness stirs as I crack open my eyelids and let out another long wail, blood spilling from my mouth. What could be seconds or minutes pass before I’m finally coherent enough to take in my surroundings, and the fucking pit in my stomach inflates.
