Betrayed ✔️

Chapter 20: "You can't take her!"

TW: Mentions of abuse and heavy themes throughout this chapter

ADA

I FELT A bit bad about tricking Carter, but that was the only way I could think to get rid of him. He would have inevitably put up an excellent point that I wouldn't have been able to counteract, and then he would dive into danger like the selfless moron he is and get himself killed.

I was the one who would end his life, and no one would take that right from me.

However, I was so focused on getting onto the property, that I had forgotten where I was.

This is where Kayden was murdered.

This is where me, Cam, Zaza and countless others were robbed of their innocence and childhood.

Sweat gathered on my forehead and slowly dripped down my forehead as I staggered to a stop in front of the building- the 'Home' we'd been forced to call it, even if it was anything but that. My mind, usually infallible and consistent in logic, froze and spewed out a million syntax errors and begged me to run.

A flashback gripped me tightly and refused to let go.

"It hurt so much," I sobbed, tightly gripping Zaza's arm as Cam tended to my wounds. "I hate them. I hate them all!"

"I hate them too," Zaza's voice was quiet and held with too much malice for a fourteen-year old. "They need to die."

"What-what should we do?" Cam whispered, eyes darting from the door to us.

"We leave, of course," Zaza said, wincing slightly as she shifted on the cold, stone floor.

"What's wrong?" I asked, immediately scanning for injuries. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

Zaza smiled sadly and brushed the hair from my face. "I'm fine. One of the bastards pulled a knife on me last week."

"You should have told us!" Cam frowned. "What if it was infected?"

"It's not. I'm fine. We have bigger problems right now." Zaza pushed herself up into a sitting position and crossed her legs with difficulty, small scratches reopening to reveal pure, red blood. "We need to–"

The cellar door creaked open and a sliver of light broke through the darkness. Zaza was on her feet in an instant, shielding both me and Cam.

"You can't take them now!" She yelled, a bright inferno blazing in her eyes. "They're still hurt! You can't take them! I won't let you! Tell the clients they're sick!" Sometimes, when she was really emotional, her accent was particularly strong.

"I- I'm not here to take them!" A small voice cried out and the door was pushed open a little wider. A boy peeked around the corner, eyes much too wide for his mature face. "M-my name is Kayden!"

"I've seen you around," Zaza's voice was less hostile, but she didn't relax. "You're always with the others. What now? You got a message?"

Kayden glanced over his shoulders. "The others would kill me if they found out but...here." He took a few steps towards us, the floorboards creaked and we flinched. He stopped and shuffled back, a stammered apology pushing past his lips.

Kayden extended his arms. In his hands were three bedraggled bread rolls with butter shoved in them like they'd been cut through while he was running.

Cam pushed past Zaza and took them, her thin limbs looked even more emaciated in the light. With a pretty smile and an even prettier voice, she thanked him.