I knew better than to struggle and I lay limp as my mother tied my wrists and ankles to the loops she'd sewn into my mattress. I was older now than I had been when she'd first done it and I had an idea that I could possibly rip them out, get free. What was the point though? I was almost thirteen and knew how the world worked. Even if I did manage to escape, I had nowhere to go. As my mother repeatedly reminded me, I'd be out on the streets, forced to fuck strangers for money to eat. At least here, I had a bed, such as it was, and food, when Mom remembered to get it. And she was careful about the men using protection because she didn't want me catching some disease or, as of last month, getting pregnant. On the streets, I wouldn't always have the option.

I stared up at the ceiling, focusing on the little cracks in the plaster rather than the fact that I was naked and spread out for whatever was going to happen next. It was harder to concentrate when I felt fingers on me. More than two hands and at least one belonged to a woman. I could feel the bite of her nails.

They were talking, but I didn't pay attention. Unless they were talking directly to me, there wasn't a point. It wasn't like I was going to remember faces or figure out who they were. Even if I did, it wouldn't matter. I knew I'd been raped by at least one doctor, a couple cops, a judge and a politician or two over the years, though I knew the numbers had to be much higher. Not that it mattered. No one would believe me if I accused them. I'd given up hope of rescue and justice years ago. All I had left was a primal instinct of self-preservation demanding I stay alive, and even that was fading again. I didn't think I'd be able to pull myself out this time.

I made a small pained sound when the first man climbed on top of me, but nothing more. I turned my head so I wouldn't have to see his face and tried to go somewhere else. It didn't work this time. I was aware of everything. The hairs on his chest rubbing against me. The pain inside me, though it wasn't much. I didn't have a lot of feeling there anymore. The things that had been done to me were finally starting to take their toll on my body.

The second man was gentle and I hated that more. It was like they thought it would seem less like rape if they were nice about it. At least the men who were rough behaved like they knew what they were doing and had accepted it. They were animals, but the other were hypocrites. I preferred the animals.

This one finished himself off and I could feel the drops of his cum splattering on my stomach. As soon as he moved, another took his place. I lost count after a while and it didn't hurt at all anymore. My body was as numb as my mind and only the rhythmic movement of my body under theirs told me that they were still going.

I saw a shadow move and then my arms were free. Little pins and needles began shooting up and down my arms as my ankles were released next. I started to sit up, ready to shower and go to sleep, but a slap across the face made me stop. I wasn't done yet.

A man stretched out on the mattress next to me and I climbed on top of him. When I felt a hand on my back, I whimpered, but leaned forward obediently. Even my desensitized body felt what happened next. I bit my lip to keep from screaming, but I couldn't stop the tears. They were involuntary, the automatic reaction to being split in two, and they kept coming as one man after another took their second turn.

I couldn't stop the scream when a third man joined in and I felt something inside me tear...

I jerked awake, heart pounding. The room was dark, unfamiliar, and I could feel the panic closing in. I fumbled for a lamp next to the bed, my befuddled brain insisting that one had to be there, no matter where I was. With my throat closing and my chest tightening, gray spots danced in front of my eyes and I fought to keep from passing out. I had to see where I was.

The light came on and I saw the generic color scheme, the basic furniture. Right, a hotel. I flopped back onto the bed. The room wasn't tiny, but it was small enough for me to see that I was alone. I stared at the ceiling, trying to remember how to breathe.

My arms wrapped around my middle. I'd get through this. I'd done it before. They were only nightmares, memories. They couldn't hurt me. I was safe. Honestly, I was safer now than I had been at my apartment, I told myself. Christophe was out on bail until his plea deal was finished, but he'd never find me here. I'd used cash and an alias.

I kept talking to myself, but the panic attack didn't subside. If anything, it seemed to take a stronger hold. The hotel room swam in front of me. I didn't want to pass out. Sometimes, I had nightmares in that deep darkness, and I didn't want another one.

I'd gotten spoiled, having Rylan there to hold me, to tell me everything was okay. His arms around me, his voice pulling me back from the brink.

Tears burned at my eyelids even though I'd thought I'd cried myself dry. He'd told me that he'd be my anchor, that I could hold onto him, even in my sleep and he'd help me get through my nightmares. Thinking of him, though, didn't bring comfort now. It just made things worse.

I rolled out of bed and headed for the mini-bar. It would've been cheaper just to go to a liquor store or grocery store, but I didn't feel like going out. I wasn't even sure what time it was. All I knew was I needed something that was going to help me relax. I didn't like using alcohol to do that, but at the moment, it seemed better than the alternative of just staying up and having to deal with the pain sober.

I drained three little bottles and the muscles in my chest relaxed enough that I could actually breathe. I crawled back into bed, knowing I was going to wake up with a nasty hangover and not caring. Better a hangover than those dreams.

I left the light on as I closed my eyes and waited for sleep or unconsciousness. I didn’t care which one. As long as oblivion came with it. I didn't want to think anymore. What would be the point? I was smart, but brains didn't necessarily mean anything. After all, they hadn't done anything for me before. I'd had to rely on someone else to save me.

I snorted a laugh even though it was far from funny. It was all well and good to say you didn't need a man rescuing you, but I'd proven that to be a big fat lie. Granted, Lily hadn't been a man, but there had been men on the team that had come in and saved me. I'd told myself I'd only needed help because I'd been a child, but recent events were proving that wasn't true. I was just weak. I'd tried to fight against Christophe, but Rylan had come in to rescue me. On my own, I was pretty much useless.

Rylan looked down at me with an expression of disgust on his face. I wanted to look away, to cover myself up, but I couldn't move. I was held tight between the men fucking me and could do nothing but pray that Rylan would turn away. He didn't though.

“Suzette and Zeke were right. You're just a filthy little whore, aren't you, Jenna?”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of cash. He dropped it next to me and unzipped his pants. He didn't wait for the others to be done, shoving himself inside me...

“No!” The word was still on my lips as I woke. I winced at the sharp pain in my head, but it was a welcome reminder that it had only been a dream. Rylan hadn't done that. He hadn't been there. And he wouldn't have done it even if he had been. I'd heard the anger in his voice when I talked about being abused. He wanted to kill the men who'd hurt me. I hadn't left him because I hadn't believed that he loved me. I'd left because I'd known he loved me.

Exhausted emotionally and physically, I drifted in and out of sleep. Sometimes I managed an hour or so without nightmares, but they always came eventually. Some were memories of my past. My mother hitting me, burning me. The man who'd like to hunt me. Individual men, faceless when they raped me, their perversion feeling almost normal when compared to other things I'd been forced to do. Christophe making me watch those videos.

Worse were the ones my mind made up entirely. Most starred Rylan. Sometimes he was joining in the abuse, but more often, he was happy, married to someone else, a father to beautiful children. In my dreams, he’d forgotten me until I approached and then he would send me away, not wanting me to contaminate the precious life he'd created. There were dreams where I'd married Rylan and we had a family. Those were the worst of all, because I'd be happy in the dream and then wake up to feel the loss all over again.

At some point, I realized that I'd slept almost the entire weekend away. It was late Sunday night and I hadn't taken a single moment to think about what I was going to do tomorrow. I knew what I wanted to do. Sleep. Try to find even a few minutes of peace. I could feel the darkness tugging at me, promising relief. Even though I knew it was a lie, I wanted it.

Growing up, I'd never allowed myself to think much of the future because I'd known that if I'd seen it, the black stretching outward, endless days of pain and misery, I'd either go mad or I'd kill myself. When I'd started Lang Tech Consulting, I'd allowed myself to see a positive future, but only in my work. With Rylan, however, I'd been unable to stop myself from thinking about a future with him because he'd seen one with me.

Now there was nothing. I could start Lang Tech Consulting back up again. My clients had been sad to see me go. I didn't really want to do that though. As much as I'd fought against working at Archer Enterprises, I'd ended up enjoying the job. The people, for the most part, were polite and let me do my own thing.

I couldn't go back though. I knew people had started to put two and two together regarding Rylan and I, and they'd soon figure out I broke up with him. I didn't want to be there when all of that shit hit the fan. There'd be blame and gossip and all of the things that made me prefer computers to actual people.

And then there'd be him. I couldn't face Rylan again. I couldn't bear to see how badly I'd hurt him. Or worse, if I hadn't hurt him at all. I'd told myself that I knew he loved me, but I couldn't stop myself from wondering just how deep that love actually went. Of course, there was always the problem of what I'd do if he tried to get me back. It had taken all my strength to leave. I was a strong person, but I didn't think I could walk away from him again. One look, one touch, and I'd be his. It would've been so much easier if I didn't love him or if he'd done something horrible, but none of that was true. All I had to hold onto was that I was giving him the chance to find the happiness he deserved.

When Sunday turned into Monday, I made up my mind about what I had to do. I didn't like the idea, but I knew it was the right thing for everyone involved.

I waited until six o'clock and went downstairs. I knew how good Rylan was with a computer. If I sent the email from my phone, he'd be able to find me. The cab driver gave me an odd look when I asked to be taken to the local library, but he didn't argue. It wasn't open yet, but I'd made friends with the security guard a while back and he'd sometimes let me in early. I handed him a cup of coffee and he unlocked the door. I promised to be in and out in just a couple minutes. It didn't take long and, by six-thirty, I'd sent my resignation to Rylan's personal and business emails. Even if he did track the origin of the email here, he'd never find me. And that was a pretty big if. Another reason I'd wanted to use the library's computers was that I'd used them before and hidden a nice little re-routing program to my log-in that made it seem like I was working from other parts of the country.

I was numb as I went back to the hotel. It was done. I'd cut all ties with Rylan and now I'd make sure I stayed out of his way, at least until he'd moved on. I could leave Fort Collins, I supposed, make a new start somewhere else. I wasn't quite ready to do that yet, but if I had to, I would. Seattle might be a good place to disappear to.

I pushed the thought aside. I wasn't there yet. Right now, all I wanted to do was sleep and not think.