This is happening.

I’m caught. Caged. Naked. I can’t make this stop. I can’t take it away. The beatings, his temper, the hands on my skin, the sickening sensation of him moving inside me… I can’t face this.

I won’t do this again.

When he raped me before, I was different. I was detached, hardened, jaded, and fighting for Tiana’s life.

But I still have a life to fight for.

My own.

For Lorne.

If I don’t find my way back to him, it’ll destroy him as much as it will me.

I have to fight through this crippling fear. I need to think, prepare, and be strong.

Bringing the duct tape handcuffs to my mouth, I start chewing while focusing all my senses on the silence outside the door. The steel barrier is so thick, would I even hear anyone? There are no gaps around it, nowhere for sound to slip through.

Is this some kind of safe room? It’s the size of a small closet with no windows and cinder block construction.

My teeth snag on the duct tape, stinging an ache through my gums.

Why am I chewing? Lorne showed me how to escape this.

Pulling my feet beneath me, I stagger to stand and catch myself against the wall. The room spins, and my legs tremble to give out.

How many times have I been drugged?

Prodding a finger along my throat, I feel bruising around two injection sites. Another one flares on the inside of my elbow.

I grit my teeth and raise my bound arms over my head. Out of the corner of my eye, the guitar string bracelet glimmers on my bicep. I still have it. Lorne’s with me. The thought makes it easier to breath.

Steadying my stance, I tighten my abs and ram my arms downward as fast and hard as possible against my stomach while pulling my elbows apart.

The duct tape rips off. No pain. Small victory.

I scan my clothes and consider my options. The square toe of the boot is hard leather. Could I hit him over the head with it? Would it knock him out? The panties would rip if I tried to choke him with the strings. Not sure what I can do with the cutoff shorts and t-shirt, but the under-wire bra is the right length and shape for strangulation.

Once I’m booted and dressed in everything but the bra, I turn my attention to the single light bulb in the ceiling. There’s no pull switch or lever on the wall.

I’m an inch too short to twist the bulb, so it takes a few jumps to knock it loose in the socket.

Blackness floods the room, and I release a breath. When he opens the door, he’ll let light in, but the shadows will give me an extra second to take him by surprise.

Wrapping my fingers around the straps of the bra, I stand near the hinges of the door and wait.

After ten minutes, maybe longer, a key slides into the lock. My muscles tense.

The tumbler slides open, and the door scrapes along the floor. My heart rate explodes.

Light spills in, casting a white stripe through the room. John’s tall silhouette moves past the door, and I launch.

Hooking the bra around his neck, I fall against him and grapple with the straps, trying to twist them tighter, harder around the column of his neck.

Terror engulfs me, shaking me to my bones as he swings an arm and nails me in the face. I lose my grip and adjust my hands, grunting, panting, and climbing his towering frame. But I’m at the wrong angle. Hanging on his side, fighting his arms, I can’t get a good handhold.

Spinning around, he tries to shake me off. Every movement causes my fingers to lose purchase.

“Enough.” He reaches back and jams the cold, hard, undeniable barrel of a gun against my head. “Let go.”

My heart thunders. My breaths wheeze, and my fingers curl tighter around the bra wires.

“I missed you, Raina.” He digs the gun against my scalp. “But I won’t hesitate to blow your brains across the wall.”

Panic, adrenaline, terror—all of it floods my system. I can’t defend myself against a gun.

If I run, he’ll shoot.

If I fight, he’ll shoot.

I release my grip and scream, “Help! Somebody help me!”

He whirls around, clamps a hand over my mouth, and shoves the gun under my chin. “Save your screaming for when I’m inside you. There’s no one around for miles.”

Tears sear my throat and ache in my eyes.

Where are we? Another isolated property in the middle of nowhere? A place where Lorne will never find me?

He yanks me out of the closet and into a bedroom furnished with log cabin decor. Beyond the window lies a blue lake that stretches toward the setting sun. Woodland creeps in from all directions. No other houses. No cars or boats. No people.

I scan the room for clues and hone in on a row of picture frames on the dresser behind me.

Tags: Pam Godwin Trails of Sin Suspense
Source: readsnovelonline.net