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When he tries to grab my other arm, I fight him. I claw at his arms, not letting him grab me. After a moment, he gets frustrated and slams his fist into my belly. The wind is knocked out of me and as I try to suck in a breath, he quickly ties the rope around my other hand, extra tight, and secures it to the bed. He looks at his handiwork and smiles. It’s disgusting. He pulls off my pants and panties, running his finger along my slit, and I suck in a breath. With another deep inhale, I do my best to shut down, to steel myself against what he’s about to do to me.

He quickly shoves his jeans down his legs and his boxers follow a second later. When he’s undressed, he tries to spread my legs so he can settle between them. I use all my strength to press my thighs together and try to twist away from him. He finally gets them apart and settles his hand over my core.

“This is mine.” He pulls his hand away and lines himself up at my entrance. I squeeze my eyes shut because I know this is going to hurt. I can’t stand to watch him do this to me. I know if I watch him, his face as it looks now will be burned into my memory. He spits on me and the first sob escapes me.

When he forces himself inside, I squeeze my eyes shut tighter and try to think of anything else to get me through this. He moves and every pull and push of his cock is like I’m being stabbed, torn apart from the inside. Tears leak from my eyes and trail down the sides of my face as he begins the chant that I’m his.

A part of me dies inside, as though all the light and love is being wrung out of my body with every thrust of his hips. He’s taking something from me, something so precious and I’ll never get it back. I will never be the same.

His rough hand grabs my breast, squeezing hard, and another sob slips out. He groans and bile rises in my throat. I’m going to throw up. He starts moving faster and a part of me is glad because I know it’s almost over, though it hurts so much more. Finally, after another agonizing minute, he tenses above me. My breath falters as I realize it’s over.

He pulls out of me and quickly unties my hands. He moves the injured one so that it’s resting over the top of my belly and he kisses my forehead. “You’re mine, baby,” he whispers and flops onto the bed next to me. I remain still, afraid to move, or even breathe.

After a couple minutes, he starts snoring and I release the breath that I had been holding. Everything comes out of me as I try to sob as quietly as possible. I sit up from the bed and look around the room. With silent cries racking my body, I tiptoe around the room, collecting as many clothes as possible and I shove them in the first bag I find in the closet. I pull some shorts on my legs as fast as I can with one arm.

Every time Ryan shifts or makes a little noise in his sleep, I freeze, petrified that he will wake up and find me trying to escape. But he doesn’t. I finish packing my bag and silently make my way through the house.

Grabbing my purse and keys, which fell to the floor when Ryan grabbed me, I slowly turn the handle on the front door, my breath stuck in my chest.

Once it’s open, I make my way outside and creep through my front yard to my car. Each step feels like my last as I imagine Ryan waking up and coming after me in a rage. Thankfully, I make it to my car and lock the doors without incident. Only then am I able to breathe.

I start the car and just drive. I have no idea where I’m going. My brain is too busy shutting down so I don’t have to relive what just happened. After a while, I look up and realize that I’m pulling up to Tucker’s house. I climb out of the car and stumble up the walk. I pound on the door as loud as I can and I don’t stop until the door flings open to reveal Tucker standing there with a scowl on his face. When he sees me, his scowl instantly changes to a look of concern just before I collapse into his arms.