The violation.
My body tenses. I’m completely frozen.
This isn’t Saint.
Vomit threatens its way up my throat.
“No. Stop, please, stop,” I whisper, but it’s no use.
I can’t move my arms; it’s like they’re glued to the ground.
Something clamps across my mouth. Fear and darkness ink through the edges of my tears as my eyes no longer want to open.
I can feel my heart crack into something irreparable.
My soul bleeding out black.
Conrad’s there one minute—gone the next, the weight of what’s happening to me immediately being removed.
There’s shouting, something snapping, glass shattering.
Screaming.
I’m not sure if it’s me, or if it’s someone else.
I want to scream too, but I can’t.
Ican’tmove.
“Saint, we need to fucking go!” someone roars. I think it’s Jenna.
Or it could be Regina.
I’m scooped up. The motion is so fast, I turn and finally vomit.
The entire room blurs into one. I retch so hard I almost choke through the tears.
My body is jittered. Hands grip me tightly as lights flash violently over my eyes, but I’m struggling to keep them open. They’re getting too heavy.
Cold air rushes over me, and I think we’re in a car now.
The panic is soaring through me, and I try to move, try to fight.
“Fucking drive, Rex.”
That’s Saint.
I’d know his voice anywhere.
A sob groggily rips through me, and I’m clutched so tightly, I can smell him. His familiar scent.
I want it to calm me; it always calms me.
I want him to help me.
Please help me.
His breathing is harsh. I can feel it against the wetness of my cheeks.
