Dark Boundaries(11)

I stand up slowly, my legs shaking like twigs under me. I loosen the knot at my back and let the shirt fall, covering my stomach. That’s as far as I can go before I start to beg again. “Please,” I shudder out a breath. “If you let us go we won’t tell anyone. I promise.”

“Fucking hell, woman!” I duck when I think he’s grabbing for my neck, but instead he grabs hold of my shirt. I hear it rip, the back of the shirt biting into my flesh. My body goes into protection mode and I hit at his arms. I turn to run away from him, but he uses his weight to drag me back down to the floor. I hit the floor hard and this time his weight follows, slamming the air from my lungs.

He yanks at my shirt again, tearing the material from my body, then he stills. You can only hear our ragged breaths. He takes a few deep breaths to even out his breathing. “Listen, I really don’t want to do this the hard way. Don’t make me hurt your friends. I know you’re scared but you’re going to have to strip. You’re going to have to do a shitload of things you won’t like. It’s either you or them. It’s your decision.”

A pitiful groan escapes my lips. I have to think of Kelly and Riza. I can’t let these men hurt them!

Garrett must see something in my eyes, because he moves off me, crouching by my feet. With shaking hands I reach for the button of my skirt. I work slowly to unbutton it, and even slower slipping the zipper down. I’m in no hurry to be naked in front of this man.

I can’t help the tears from spilling when I lie back so I can lift my hips to remove the skirt. I stare up at the ceiling, taking deep breaths so I don’t start hyperventilating. The sudden feel of a hand on mine, makes me jerk with fright. My head snaps up and I come face to face with Garrett. He moved so quickly and silently, I didn’t hear him!

“Let me help you,” he whispers. He almost sounds sorry. His eyes look pained. “Just lie back and let me do it. When things get too hard just think of your friends.”

I lie back and turn my head away from him. I concentrate hard on the wall and try not to think of what’s happening to me right now. Maybe if he undresses me I won’t feel this pang of guilt. He’ll be the monster and I’ll stay the victim.

But I don’t want to be a victim! The moment of insanity passes quickly and white-hot anger bubbles inside of me, like a volcano ready to erupt.

“I’m going to take the shackle off, don’t try anything.” Even though his voice is never above a whisper, I can hear the clear note of warning.

I feel his hands by my ankle and then hear the faint click as he unlocks it. I should feel relieved that I’m no longer chained to the wall, but the only thing I feel is a prickling fear running over every inch of my skin, that and the anger.

My eyes land on the door and I just react. I dart up and shove Garrett hard in the chest, causing him to fall back on his butt. I run for the door, my breaths coming fast, as if I’ve already run miles to get away.

Don’t think of the panic! Stay angry. Anger will help you through this.

I yank at the door, but it doesn’t budge. It’s locked! No, oh God, no! I’m so close!

Arms like steel bands wrap around my torso, his warm skin searing the skin over my stomach. I go wild, kicking back, hitting every part of him I can reach. He lifts me and swings me away from the door – my only escape. I hit the floor with my right hip and elbow, but the pain hardly registers. I use the little leverage my body has and lunge back at him, scratching him from just below his right eye all the way to his jaw, taking as much skin as I can.

“Stop it!” he growls, clearly upset. But I don’t care! He has no right to be upset because I’m fighting back. I have the right. I keep reminding myself of this. I have rights and he’s threatening them!

He manages to grab hold of my arms and slam them down, pinning them on either side of me. When his powerful thighs cage in my hips, I cry out in frustration and fear. I thrash around for a few more seconds and he allows me to, just staring down at me. The insanity returns, weirdly calming me. I return to the same position before my attempt at escape, just staring at the wall as tears slip from my eyes.

His hands brush softly down my arms and over the lower half of my stomach. He takes hold of my skirt and starts to pull. I cry harder as the skirt slides off my hips, down my legs and then it’s gone.

I open my mouth to beg him again, but no words come out.

He kneels over me, placing a hand on each side of my head. “I won’t hurt you,” he breathes the words against my cheek, but I don’t believe him. I’d be stupid to trust one of the men that kidnapped us, even if his eyes are begging me to.