It had been over four years since I’d had slept with a man. The nightmares hadn’t started until after my divorce. Burrowing under the covers, I flipped through the channels, waiting for Jaxxon. I breathed through the dull ache in what seemed like every muscle in my body, trying to stop the trembling. Nerves? Soreness? Fear? Or D—all of the above.

A cool breeze through the open windows chilled the room, but my guess, an unlikely catalyst for why I couldn’t get warm. I readjusted under the covers, shoving my body pillow under my left side and pulling the covers up to my chin.

“Nowhere to hide in there, baby,” he chuckled as he entered the bedroom wearing pair of warm-up pants and no shirt.

The bed dipped behind me. The heat of Jaxx’s warm, showered body acted like a heater up against me. He trailed his cool lips down my cheek as he wedged an arm under my head, pulling me tight against him. “You need sleep,” he murmured in my ear. “If you can’t because I’m here, I’m out.”

“No . . . ” I sighed. “Sleep is a toss-up whether you’re here or not. Are you comfortable?”

“More than I should be.” He locked me in his arms and rested his head above mine on my pillow. “You’re so warm. Might have trouble kicking me out in the morning.”

Warm? I’d been freezing. Twisting my head, I kissed him and snuggled closer, more content than I’d ever been before. My eyelids grew heavy as my brain shifted into low gear.

“You can stay as long as you want,” I managed to get out before the lethargy spreading over me became too strong to fight.

Click . . . click . . . click . . . click.

The clank of metal against metal blares through my head and a rush of blood flows back into my limbs, rousing me from the sluggish, confused state I’ve been reduced to. I have no concept of time, but I know I’m free. Tiny prickles of sensation rush back into my fingers, my toes, my legs, and my arms as I wiggle and try to move.

I crack my goopy eyelids open to a dark room. The silhouette of the monster looms at the left side of the table, towering above me.

I try to pull my arms together, but I’m so weak—chained so long, sliding my arm closer to my body takes every ounce of energy.

Callused fingers dig into my freed wrist, yanking my arm straight.

“No,” I rasp, my throat burning from dryness.

“Shut your mouth or I’ll gag you again.”

I try to turn my body away from the harsh voice. A thin, sharp needle stabs deep into the damp skin of my arm.

“Stop . . . plea—”

Seconds pass, giving way to what feels like a slow moving river throughout my body. Like old oil, thick and dark and unhurried, the drug seeps into every muscle, leaving me even more immobile than before.

I watch the blurry shape of the monster move back to the end of the table. Adrenaline floods my system, but is no match for whatever he injected me with.

Fingernails scratch my hips under the sides of my underwear. I shriek as the monster rips them down my legs. Sweaty hands shackle my calves and haul me to the end of the table, forcing my naked core up against hard and hairy thighs.

“No, no, no,” I scream, but the words won’t form right.

“Shut up!” A brutal fist slams my face into the table right before rough palms shove my legs wider apart. I will my unresponsive muscles to move. He’s too big. Too strong. The paralytic overrides my system, holding me prisoner.

“Sweet little cunt,” he hisses, shoving two fingers inside my untouched body.

Bile floods my esophagus. My back arches off the table as I dry heave and choke, but there is nothing in my stomach to come up.

Daddy, please. Come get me. Please!

In and out, the monster thrusts his fat fingers, killing my innocence. The sharp edges of his uneven nails scrape against my tender insides. The fresh gashes burn with each violation.

God . . . just . . . take me.

The sides of my mouth crack as I open it wide, screaming with no voice. The hiss of air and deep gasps as I try to breathe, try to yell, mix with the monster’s disgusting grunts.

The thick stench of alcohol invades my nose as he yanks his fingers out of my body and leans over me. Teeth break the sensitive skin under my right breast. Warm trails slither down the side of my chest when he lets go. He tries to shove something soft and round into my body.

With every limp thrust between my legs, he bites me in a different place.

A growl echoes against the walls of the claustrophobic shack. “Little bitch!” Over and over, he slaps my face, sometimes with a flat hand, other times with a closed fist.

With a scream of rage, he shoves my body toward one the side of the table.

With my good eye, I focus on the thin line of light coming from under the door. My chest heaves as sobs rack my body.

Make it stop.

A meaty fist smashes into the left side of my face this time, and something inside my head crushes. A metallic taste floods my mouth. Blood seeps down the side of my face as flashes of tiny lights strobe before me.

“Useless. Just like the others! Look at me! Open your filthy mouth!”

No!

A powerful hand clamps down on one side of my face, pushing it against the table. He wedges his fingers into my slippery cheek, forcing my mouth open. The monster shoves himself inside. I gag on the blood, on the slab of flesh pushing against my tongue.

Blood and saliva pour out of my mouth, pooling at my neck.

Mom. Daddy . . . I love you.

I bite down hard, but my teeth won’t meet.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” The crack of my cheekbone shatters through my head as it slams against the metal table. The monster lunges away.

Metal scraping against metal blares through the room.

Agony rips through my abdomen in wild, ragged bursts and I’m dimly aware of his hand slamming something cold and sharp into me. A searing pain explodes throughout and down my right thigh. I drop my hands over my stomach. Slippery. Wet. When I lift my left arm, the same hot vicious pain tears through the bottom of my wrist to my elbow.

The monster screams, louder and louder.

So cold. Freezing . . .

Please . . . God . . . I’m ready.