Chapter 6

Tess

~Strip me bare, pull my hair, I don’t care, just take me there.~

I need that high, I need that pain, it’s the only thing that keeps me sane…~

The lift doors opened, breaking our moment.

Q sighed, letting me go with a grimace. It looked as if he couldn’t stand the thought of not touching me.

I knew how he felt. Whatever existed between us was growing fast, and I didn’t want to move. I wanted to stare into his eyes and try to decipher him.

Q stepped out first, opening another door only a meter or two away. It wasn’t pretty. It wasn’t designer. In fact, the heavy riveted metal looked tarnished and weather-worn.

“Where are we?” I asked as I disembarked the lift.

He smiled and undid the door handle, pushing the metal open. Instantly, the sun beamed into the gloomy space, and I squinted in the glare.

“Come on. I’ll show you where I spend most of my time.”

Q beckoned me to follow, and I couldn’t believe my eyes. I’d died and gone to heaven. Literally.

I stepped over the threshold and gasped. The entire Parisian skyline was there for my viewing pleasure.

I ghosted forward, not aware of moving until I stood on the edge of the roof with the cosmopolitan city spread before my feet.

My eyes popped wide. I hadn’t walked over concrete, but the softest, brightest green grass I’d ever seen.

Wildflowers, bonsai, and fully grown fruit trees ringed the roof, shading little sitting areas and water features.

Nestled in the middle of such an urban wilderness was a white sparkling building with glass walls all around.

Q came toward me, bringing with him the noise of wingbeats and small updrafts of feathers.

I ducked as a flurry of pigeons, blackbirds, and sparrows took flight over my shoulder, scattering from the garden into the limitless sky.

I spun to Q, trying to understand this place.

He grinned, eyes glowing with such blazing intelligence it floored me. This man ran a worldwide company. He dedicated his life to helping others, all the while hating himself for his downfalls.

I meant what I said—why me? What did I ever do so special to deserve him?

Only someone perfect and worthy and conflicted enough to understand him was worthy of all this. I hated my doubt—hated my need to hear him say he was falling for me, too.

Some part of me worried I’d never hear those words from him.

“Welcome to my office.” He fanned his arms wide. “I think it’s a much better use of space than a boring helipad.” He strode toward the building, sitting so proud, like a crown on top of his empire.

“Shall we?”

I nodded and followed Q to his domain. A few brave birds alighted on the grass as we left them in peace.

This place was a sanctuary for wildlife in the heart of the city. The analogy didn’t escape my mind—Q built an oasis wherever he went, looking after those that needed the space to heal and be free.

As enamored as I was with Q, and as much as he fulfilled me, gave me everything my sick, twisted little soul could want, he drove me insane. I wanted into his head.

I wanted to know every minute detail about him, and yet he didn’t trust me. That splintered my heart, and I wished I could prove my devotion to him.

That I would never spill his secrets or cast blame on his perversions. I didn’t like that he might never fully open up, that I may never completely understand the man who possessed my heart.

Q stopped just outside the building, holding out his hand.

I stopped short, eyeing it warily, so conditioned to expect pain or pleasure from his touch.

He huffed, gritting his jaw. “You refuse to do something as simple as hold my hand?” Hurt shadowed his gaze, and he let his arm fall.

I rushed closer and took his palm, squeezing it hard. “I’d never refuse you anything.

“I’m just not used to something so…normal from you.” I gave him a shy smile, linking my fingers with his until we were locked together.

Holding Q’s hand was so completely different to anything I’d experienced. Brax used to hold me sweetly, our palms a little sweaty—a boy and a girl fumbling with growing up.

Q held me with possession, and the rough-softness of his skin set my teeth on edge and my pulse catapulting. He was pure man.

A dominant male who expected explicit compliance, all the while searching for a thread of retaliation. A complete contradiction—a man with two desires.

He held my heart, rather than my hand.

Q tugged me closer until our hands were wedged between our torsos. “I’m glad you’re here,” he whispered.

I gulped, drowning in his citrus and sandalwood. Most of the time we fought with dagger and claw, and yet in that moment, the intensity simmered to flowers and petals.

For the first time ever, our connection was sweet.

“Don’t go dreamy-eyed on me, Tess. I’m feeling sentimental. That’s all. Don’t get used to moments like this.

“You’ll be sorely disappointed.” He untangled his fingers from mine and stalked into the building, leaving me shocked and alone.

Had I done something, or had Q realized how tender the moment was and freaked? I guessed the second one was more likely.

I had a good mind to steal Franco’s gun and hold Q hostage so I could stand a chance of getting into his head. Every time I was close to breaking through, he ruined it.

Sighing, I entered the open and airy office and froze on the spot.

Ice.

Terror.

Utter, heinous foreboding.

My limbs locked in place, and my instincts blared on high alert. The message was simple:

Run.

Run far, far away, and don’t come back.

~Run, Tess!~

It was the same body-steeling compulsion that made me so afraid in Mexico. My body quaked as I locked my legs from turning around and throwing myself off the building.

Q didn’t matter. The sun or knowledge that nothing evil resided here didn’t matter. All I saw was darkness and blackness and the stench of death.

~Run!~

I cried out, clamping a hand over my mouth, crumbling into a ball.

~“You’ve got nice tits. You can’t hide them forever. Get in the shower and wash your filth.”~ Leather Jacket’s voice roared into my head. My healed rib bellowed in memory of him kicking me.

~“Accept that you are no longer a woman. You are merchandise. And merchandise must have a barcode for sale,”~ Jagged Scar muttered, just as the pain of the tattoo gun shredded my wrist.

No! Stop.

~I’m safe. I’m safe. It’s not true.~

“Shit, Tess. What the fuck?” Q plucked me from the ground, hoisting me off my feet. Cradling me, he carried me further into the building before sitting on a white canvas couch.

~Let me go~. I couldn’t be there. I couldn’t. Ice cubes lived in my blood, greyhounds raced in my legs, wanting nothing more than to sprint.

I tried to get my panicked breathing under control, but my mind was back in Mexico, back with countless other women whose fate might have ended by now. I wanted the assholes who took me to die.

I wanted to be the one who stole their lives, just like they stole others.

“Tess. Tess!” Q’s voice was far away and I latched onto it, gulping in oxygen, swimming hard against the panic.

Something fierce and hot struck my cheek; it helped chase my nightmares back into the depths.

Q rocked me, crushing me against his powerful chest. “That’s it, ~esclave~. Come back to me. Don’t you dare fucking leave me.”

My ear pressed against his suit and the loud rush of his pounding heart brought me back to reality. I sucked in one last wavering breath and opened my eyes.

I tensed, waiting for the room to send me reeling back into a psychotic breakdown, but it stayed bright and airy and completely innocent.

Q froze, letting me go, watching me with piercing eyes. ~“Est-ce que ça va ?”~ Are you all right?

When I didn’t answer, he launched into a string of angry French. ~“C'est quoi ce bordel, esclave? Est-ce que tu peux me dire pourquoi tu as eu cette absence? Est-ce que tu me caches quelque chose?”~

~“Tu as besoin d'aide? Pourquoi tu ne me dis rien!”~ What the fuck happened, ~esclave~? Care to tell me why you had a breakdown? Have you been hiding this from me? Do you need help? Why didn't you tell me!

I flinched against his anger, hanging my head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened.” Images of Suzette suffering her own attack flickered into my mind. “Maybe it’s an episode?

“You know, leftover feelings from my past?”

He scooted me off his lap and onto the couch. The moment he was free, he moved to sit on the coffee table, shoving away large folders and binders.

He kept his hands to himself, almost as if he couldn’t touch me without wanting to break me in half.

“Have you had them before?” His nostrils flared, his entire frame trembling with aggression.

I shook my head, telling the truth. I’d never suffered so violently before. Sure, I had nightmares of the kidnapping and rape, but Q was always there to save me. This was entirely new.

I hated the feeling of being so afraid. I cursed Brax for taking me into the café and for not being strong enough to save me. I wanted to tear each bastard who hurt me into little tiny pieces.

I wanted their hearts on a stick. I wanted to live without the awful memories.

~But if you didn’t suffer, you would never have been sold to Q.~

My eyes widened. After everything—dealing with beatings, degradation, and being tagged like a dog—life rewarded me with my deepest desires.

Did fate extract a horrible toll, all in the name of granting my ultimate wish?

“Suzette lets my temper affect her. What was the reason for yours?” Q exploded upright, pacing away, jamming hands deep into his pockets. “It’s me, isn’t it? Being alone with me up here.

“You’re afraid. There’s no staff. No Franco to stop me if I go too far.” He looked at me with tortured, haunted eyes. “Tell me the truth!”

Heat and temper travelled up my spine, eradicating the last remaining chill. I stood up, pointing a finger at him. “Don’t make this about you. How many times do I need to say it?

“I’m not afraid of you!”

He threw his hands up. “Maybe you should be fucking scared of me. I’m the worst you’ll ever be with.

“No one else will come near you as I won’t allow it.” He thumped his chest, breathing hard, straining his immaculate graphite suit. “I’d kill for you, Tess. I ~have~ killed for you.

“Don’t undermine me by fearing others. Fear ~me~. Let me rule you!”

He rushed forward, capturing my nape. “My life guards your life. ~Tu es à moi. ~” You’re mine.

His passion, his rage, chased the rest of my panic away. But no matter how touched and honoured I was about his vow to protect me, he couldn’t stop the residual instinct that something wasn’t right.

My heart kicked into high gear as I noticed the wide corridor behind Q’s shoulder, leading off into the unknown.

I swallowed, trying to ignore it. An innocent hallway, nothing more, but my eyes latched onto the entrance, and the slow creep of spiders began anew.

Q followed my eyes. He frowned, then realization shone on his face. “You’re afraid of somewhere new.”

Rushing, he added, “Have you been anywhere else, other than your home in Melbourne and places you’d visited before?”

My brow furrowed, thinking of his question. Finally, I shook my head. “No. You’re right. This is the first place that’s completely new to me.”

He slouched before rubbing the back of my neck and letting me go. “I know what triggered it.

“You’re terrified of a new location because in the last one you were beaten and kidnapped.” His voice sharpened with anger and his muscles bunched, but he gave me an encouraging smile.

“I’ve seen it happen with countless slaves that arrived. They all despise newness—newness is full of horror because you can’t mentally prepare for what you don’t know.”

I blinked. I didn’t think I’d ever grow to be completely comfortable around Q. He saw too much, knew too much about what happened in the sex slave industry.

The property business wasn’t where Q’s heart lay. It was consumed by broken birds. Healing wings, granting purpose to otherwise dead women.

He was the glue to so many fractured families finding happiness again.

I couldn’t stop staring at him in a mixture of awe and uncertainty.

He frowned, placing his hands on my shoulders, branding me, his thumbs stroking gently. “You’re safe here, Tess. I won’t let anything hurt you.

“You have my ultimate word on that.” He lowered his head, eyes unreadable and fierce. “You need to rest.”

I shook my head, horrified at letting him down on the first day. “No, I’m fine. Give me a moment and I’ll be ready to become your doting employee.” I smiled, but it was watery.

Even though I forced myself to be rational, to acknowledge that this was a safe place and Q would fend off the devil for me, I couldn’t stop the froth of fear curdling in my stomach.

~Get a fucking grip, Tess.~

Q’s body tensed, his jaw flexed. I swore he had some overactive sense that knew when I lied and was truly afraid. He had the nose of a predator, and in that moment I was weak and strung-out prey.

“Maybe you’re right. I’m so sorry, Q.” The thought of going anywhere else and meeting a bunch of new people gave me the hives.

He dropped his hands, nodding. “No need to apologize.”

Slowly, some of the tension uncoiled from my limbs, leaving me shaky. Would I always suffer repercussions of what happened? I thought I was stronger than that.

All along I thought I wasn’t broken, but maybe they fractured me just enough to stop me from healing completely.

I felt like a coward. I let my instincts override rational thinking, making me fear an illusion.

Q took a deep breath, ridding himself of the angst visible in his shoulders. He smiled softly as his pale eyes warmed. “I have a meeting I’m late for. I want you to stay here and relax.

“Watch a movie, feed the birds, go for a bath. Do whatever you want.”

He captured my hand, tugging me closer. “The moment I’m done, I’ll come back, and we’ll go for a nice dinner, or order up, I don’t care. Tomorrow is soon enough to share you.”

I smiled, looping my arms around his powerful back, letting him make me forget that I made a fool of myself. “You don’t want to share me?” I murmured against his chest.

A rush of gratitude filled me once again for being sold to such a strange, but moral man.

My fate could’ve been so, so much worse. I was eternally lucky.

He chuckled; the sound resonated in my ear, making my world right again. “No. I wished I never said you’d work for me. I’d rather keep you chained and subservient to me at home.”

I laughed, and the last of my apprehension melted away.

Q wanted me, Q would protect me, and eventually Q would love me.

Me, the girl with nothing but a broken mind.

Q left me alone in his heaven-high office, heading to his meeting, donating his attention to something greater than me.

I kissed him goodbye by the elevator before walking reluctantly back into the building.

Why he had to go downstairs for the meeting was beyond me.

But watching the birds flying free, and the manicured gardens, I could understand him wanting to keep this as private zone where only he was allowed to enter. And now me.

I clenched my hands as I re-entered Q’s space. The wash of instincts screamed at me, freezing my limbs, but I ignored it.

For the first time in my life, I willingly told my instincts to shut the fuck up.

Q’s office was simple, elegant. No heavy wood like his library at home, or the over-decoration of animal hides in the lounge. This was purely him.

A place untouched by his father, an uninherited space.

It seemed he liked cold and stark—if his furniture was to go by: a glass desk with four skyscrapers holding up the corners, white artwork with silhouettes of all types of birds in flight, and a massive skylight completed the space.

Splashes of colour came from scattered cushions and strategically placed scale models of hotels and building complexes.

It was perfect, but empty. A feeling of abandonment rose and I squashed it. I had no reason to feel abandoned. Q told me to relax and, to be honest, I needed to.

For the next half an hour, I paced in Q’s office. I stared at the artwork, flipped through some of the folders full of building permits and regulations, and went for a stroll outside.

Anxiety made me jumpy and twice I thought I saw a shadow lurking out of place, only to find a cloud had rolled in over the sun.

I couldn’t keep this up. My heart hurt from racing so much, and my mouth was dry. My entire body shivered from being damp with nervous sweat.

~I have a date tonight with a man I desperately want to know. ~I couldn’t go smelling like a homeless woman.

Taking Q’s suggestion, I headed back inside and swallowed my fear to head down the corridor in search of the bathroom.

I came across a bedroom which was four times the size of my old apartment with a crisply made bed and a mountain of fluffy cushions.

The entire end of the bedroom opened with bifold doors to bring the outside courtyard in.

Innocent and white perfection came to mind. It was so unlike Q’s tower room it was laughable.

I found the bathroom off the bedroom and smiled in anticipation.

If the helicopter, Rolls-Royce, and Q’s incredible building hadn’t impressed me with his wealth, the luxury in every corner of this bathroom did.

One wall was completely covered in mirrored tiles, giving the sense of never-ending space and repeating possibilities. The two-sink vanity was laden with small soaps and tiny crystal bottles.

The shower could’ve held a football team with a meter-long showerhead, but it was the bath that called to me.

Tuscan inspired with steps leading upward before disappearing into a heavenly deep plunge pool. Silver jets for bubbles riddled the sides and plush pillows lined the rim.

If anything could rid me of my anxiety, it would be this bath.

Turning on the waterfall tap, I headed back into the bedroom to see if I could borrow something of Q’s to wear after my soak.

The walk-in wardrobe buffeted me with notes of citrus and musk. Q’s signature scent wrapped its arms around me and took away my loneliness. God, he smelled delicious.

My body hummed, missing him, looking forward to when he returned. Every shirt I rifled through sent my mind swimming.

Deciding on a pale jade shirt, the same color as Q’s eyes, I held it to my nose and inhaled. Q’s darkness, his temptation, shot up my nose and deep into my heart.

My pulse increased, needing him. My body belonged to him, set alive by his scent, touch, and voice.

~Damn you, Q, for leaving.~ I wanted nothing more than to take a bath together. Maybe when he returned, he could join me.

I needed to reaffirm that all of this was real. This wealth, this future, this life I now lived. Without him to remind me, it all seemed like a ridiculous dream.

The mirrors were fogged and weeping with condensation when I returned. Clouds of hot steam enveloped me, instantly saturating my skin with airborne droplets.

The last of my irrational fear receded, turning me limp and eager to slip into the water.

Removing my clothes, I redid my ponytail into a messy knot and stepped into the scalding hot bath. It blanched my skin as I submerged.

Gritting my teeth, I bore through the temperature, letting my skin grow accustomed to the onslaught. Every whiplash sparked with extra agony, irritated by the heat.

The instant I was fully covered, the water lapped and coaxed, easing the last remaining kinks from my body.

The entire bathroom wept around me; dew even dripped from the ceiling. It was like being in a private water world where nothing but happiness could reach me.

I went from sleep to drowning in two seconds flat.

One second my head was above water, drifting in dreamland and fantasies, the next I was pushed deep in the tub and pinned to the bottom.

Reflexively I inhaled, filling my lungs with useless, killing water.

I kicked and squirmed, trying to get purchase on whoever held me down, but the fist in my hair wouldn’t allow any leeway.

What the fuck?

~It’s not Q. Please don’t let it be Q.~

I knew he had black desires, but I didn’t believe he would drown me just for kicks. I didn’t believe he’d be that cruel.

Not the man who raged when he thought he couldn’t protect me from my panic attack. Not the man who smiled so sweetly when we finished fucking in the helicopter.

All the rage and anger that I embraced when I was kidnapped raced into being. I lost the softness, the dependency Q gave me and revved with survival energy.

I scratched at the wrist holding me down, digging deep with sharp nails.

My assailant jerked, trying to un-pry my fingers with his other hand, but I didn’t let go until blood grew slippery under my fingernails.

A moment later the hand on my head loosened, and I shot upright.

Water erupted from my mouth as I choked and heaved, gasping for breath. Twisting in the water, I snarled. My heart pumped once and died.

I wished I’d stayed underwater.

~No. No, no, no. It can’t be true.~

Leather Jacket sneered, his black eyes filled with the same atrocious evil they’d held in Mexico. His body leered toward me as he wriggled his dirty fingers. “Hello, slut.”

The panic attack.

~Shit, Tess. It wasn’t a panic attack—it was real!~ My instincts knew. They knew all along, and I ignored them.

Hot furious tears threatened to fall as I bared my teeth. “Get the fuck away from me.” My eyes darted around the bath, looking for a weapon. Nothing but fluffy pillows and bars of moisturizing soap.

Leather Jacket laughed, running a hand through his greasy hair. “That’s no way to be nice. I’ve missed you and your nice tits.” He cocked his head, tutting under his breath.

His eyebrow raised, taking in the red lashes on my stomach.

“I hear you’re proving to be a bad investment, and my boss~ hates~ bad investments.” His Spanish accent thickened as his eyes slithered down my body.

“Looks as though someone else decided you needed punishing too, huh?”

Wrapping my arms around my nakedness, I shouted, “I’m no longer yours to torture. I belong to another.

“Someone who will be extremely pissed if you lay one finger on me.” My teeth started to rattle, despite the humid air and hot bath.

~I can’t let him take me. I can’t.~

“If you leave now, I’ll forget you were here. I won’t tell my owner to hunt you down and rip you apart.” All I wanted was for Q to appear and blow Leather Jacket’s brains all over the bathroom walls.

Killing him had been my intention ever since I left Brax.

Leather Jacket threw his head back and laughed. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about me, slut. Your so-called owner won’t be a problem for much longer.” He inched closer, leering down at me.

“He did a very bad thing. Time for him to pay.”

I pushed off to the other side of the bath, but Leather Jacket moved like a demon. He jumped into the tub, clothes and all, and grabbed a chunk of my hair.

His metallic stench filled my nose as he forced my head underwater again.

I thrashed, I wriggled, I tried not to scream, but the sheer terror erupted my lungful of air into hot water.

The heavy ~thud, thud~ of my heart went wild as I inched closer to drowning.

The agony lasted forever while my lungs screamed and died a painful death, but at the last second, he hoisted me up, dragging me to the edge of the tub.

Clinging to the side, I sucked in hungry gasps, choking on droplets running over my face.

“Now that you’re clean. Get the fuck out. We have somewhere to be,” Leather Jacket ordered.

“What—?” I couldn’t finish, heaving for breath. “I’m not going anywhere—”

With a savage jerk, he pulled me upright. I screamed, trying to free my hair from his claws. He tugged so hard chunks tore from my scalp. “Let me go!”

I twisted, trying to get his wrist to bend enough to get free. He was too strong. My weak body wobbled and weaved after nearly drowning. I cursed my body for failing. I couldn’t fight.

He hauled me from the tub and against his horrible body. The cold zipper of his jacket dug into my naked breasts as he breathed rancid breath over me. “Not gonna happen. Time to take a little ride.”

I lashed out and kneed him square in the balls. He dropped me, clutching at the towel rail in agony. I didn’t wait another second.

With my head pounding and strands of hair falling to the floor, I bolted.

Straight into another man.

His arms whipped around me and his unnatural broken smile crushed all my hope of freedom.

Jagged Scar.

The man who held me down while the bitch tattooed and inspected me. The same bitch who inserted a tracking device into my neck.

~Fuck.~

The tracker! I wanted to kill myself for being so stupid. The moment I arrived in Australia I went on the waiting list for a day surgery to remove.

But they kept pushing me back—emergencies bumping me down the line. There was nothing I could do, and then I went back to Q.

For four days I romanced and teased the man I’d returned to. I didn’t even stop to think about such a life-threatening device tracking my every move.

~Shit, Tess!~ I should’ve told him. I should’ve made sure it was removed straight away. I should’ve butchered my own body to remove it.

This was all my fault.

Jagged Scar clicked his tongue. “Just realized, didn’t you? I have to admit, people tend to forget about that part.” He sighed, sounding almost apologetic.

“It really is a shame to do this, but your circumstances have changed.”

My brain couldn’t focus on one thing. ~Run, fight, run.~ Trembling, I said, “They were paid for me. Let me go. Please.”

Leather Jacket limped toward us. I cringed as Jagged Scar spun me to face him. I didn’t care about being naked, I only cared about killing these men and running to Q.

Tears bruised again at the thought. I didn’t know where Q was. I had no clue which floor, or even which building he was in.

~Oh, God. I’ll never see him again.~

Leather Jacket scooped up Q’s shirt on the seat in the corner. He threw it at Jagged Scar. “Dress her.”

He nodded and let me go to open the shirt. The thought of being dressed by these bastards was too much. They had no right to touch Q’s clothes.

I snatched it off Jagged Scar, growling, “I can do it myself.” It took a few attempts to undo the buttons and shrug it on. It hung on me like a dress.

The whiff of Q’s aftershave crippled me, and I wanted nothing more than to give in to the huge wracking sobs building in my ribcage.

But I didn’t have that luxury. I had to be brave and fierce. I had to stay sharp and ready to maim.

Jagged Scar didn’t capture me again, and I stood trapped in the middle of them as Leather Jacket pulled something from his trouser pocket. His black eyes glinted, enjoying my fear.

“Do it.” His gaze flickered behind me to Jagged Scar.

My heart lurched into my throat and I ducked, trying to avoid whatever was coming, but it wasn’t enough.

The punch to the side of my head sent stars exploding behind my eyes— I slammed to the marble floor. My knees screamed and I braced myself on my hands, trying to shake away the agony.

“Fuck me, look at you,” Leather Jacket muttered.

“We thought the man who owned you was a pussy, but looky here.” A disgusting finger trailed along the base of my spine where the shirt had risen and poked the bruises on my ass.

He prodded the fresh fingernail cuts Q gave me in the helicopter. “Kinky bastard, isn’t he.”

Jagged Scar laughed. “At least we know she likes it rough. That’ll entice a few others to buy a secondhand slave.”

My ears rushed with horror. “I’m already sold! You can’t do this!”

Both men laughed. “It’s not up to you anymore.” Leather Jacket squatted in front of me, brandishing the item from his pocket. He kept it hidden in his large meaty fist.

All the hatred I felt for them burned my heart and soul. I’d planned on hunting them. Tracking them like animals and making them pay for what they did—bring retribution for all the women they hurt.

Now all of those goals were dust.

Because of one stupid error, my life was over. For good this time. I’d had my second chance and blew it.

“Give me your arm.” Leather Jacket smiled. “I have a present for you.”

I didn’t want any fucking present. Gritting my teeth, I snarled. “Fuck you.”

Jagged Scar chuckled behind me as Leather Jacket smirked. “I’ve missed your fight, ~puta. ~Just wait till I’ve got you all alone. You’re gonna pay for breaking my finger.”

I swallowed hard as memories of him coming to find me in the dark threatened to pull me under. “You shouldn’t have tried to rape me.”

Leather Jacket stopped smirking and glared with so much hatred it was like standing in a cauldron of hell. He lashed out and stole my arm. “You’ll regret that.”

I fought. Of course, I fought, but Jagged Scar grabbed my shoulders and held me in place while my arm was straightened and locked between Leather Jacket’s body and elbow. “I’m gonna enjoy this.

“Say goodbye, slut.”

With snake-like reflexes, he jabbed something sharp and painful into my arm. Almost instantly, a foggy cloud descended, turning my brain to custard, my limbs to candyfloss.

~No!~

I clung to lucidity, but it was no use. Second by second, my heart silently poisoned me by allowing the drugs to ooze through my bloodstream.

My eyes went first—wonky and unclear. Then my limbs disappeared from my control until I fell headfirst into Leather Jacket.

He cradled me in his rapist arms as the final stretch of my nightmare closed in on me.

My thoughts shriveled up, my breathing went shallow, and the last thing I heard sent my hopes directly to hell.

“Welcome home.”