After carrying her kicking and screaming from the truck, JR’s fetid breath had made her gag when he’d dropped her to her knees and licked at her parched lips. She’d pulled back and slammed her forehead into his already injured nose. Then he’d slapped her, twice, before her ragged shirt had finally torn free of her body and he shoved her onto the dirty linoleum floor.
“Damn bitch thinks she can do whatever she wants,” he muttered to himself as his dirty fingers gingerly examined his swollen nose.
With her hands and feet bound together and gasping through her gag, she’d done her best to push herself into the corner away from him. He’d watched her, glaring down at her for several seconds after she’d bumped against the wall. The fevered look in his rapidly shifting eyes had made her heart slam painfully against her ribs, fear of what he would do next chilling her bones. But then he’d suddenly turned and started filling the stove.
He had tried something similar before he’d dragged her from her house. She’d awoken on the floor in her hallway, cold air rushing in from the open front door and her face throbbing from his first punch. She’d lost consciousness for a minute or two and as she came to, she’d heard JR in her bedroom mumbling to himself as he rummaged around.
The next thing she knew, he’d grabbed her shirt again and hauled her to her feet.
“Where’s your money?” he’d shouted in her face, his horrible breath nearly making her retch as she pushed at his chest. “I know you’ve got some cash around here. Where do you keep it? Tell me!” He’d grabbed her arms in a bruising grip and shook her so hard her teeth rattled.
“I-In my p-purse,” she said, still pushing away from him.
“Where!” he shouted.
“Di-Dining room,” she stuttered, as tears of fear and pain rolled down her cheeks.
She cried out when he grabbed a fistful of her hair and towed her into the other room. Finding her purse hanging from the back of a chair, he’d dumped the contents on the scratched, wooden tabletop and snatched her wallet from amongst the clutter.
“Forty bucks? That’s all you got?” he said with another hard shake that nearly tore her hair out by the roots.
“K-Kit-Kitchen,” she sobbed as her hands gripped his wrist in an attempt to lessen the wrenching on her scalp.
“Please,” she begged, “just take it and go. You don’t have to hurt me.”
He stuffed the bills from her wallet into the front pocket of his jeans and tugged her into the kitchen.
“Me and you’s got unfinished business,” he said, pulling her up and pressing her back against the counter. His hand was still tangled in her hair as he bent her backward and pressed his lips to hers. She had tried to turn her head, tried to escape his disgusting probing tongue, but he held her firm and forced his way inside. Too shocked and afraid to respond, her body went still while he ravaged her mouth.
His free hand had slid up her side and closed over her breast, squeezing it tight and pinching her nipple until she sobbed and squirmed to get away. He jerked her bra strap over her shoulder and uncovered the tormented bud. Pulling back, his frantic eyes glared at her, then lowered to her bared breast. The look on his face turned her mouth dry and her heart raced faster than before.
“N-n-no,” she pleaded through her tears. “P-Please, no, don’t.”
His gaze met hers and the evil smile that crossed his face had made her shudder.
“Oh, yes,” he’d said and, dropping his head, his mouth landed on her breast. He proceeded to savage the sensitive tip, licking, sucking, biting, and showed no sign of slowing his attack as his hand pushed between her legs. “Shit, this is better than I’d thought it would be.”
At first, shock had kept her immobile, but then anger and desperation snapped her out of it and she fought back. She screamed as she threw her first punch and kept on screaming as she hit, and scratched, and kicked him until he stopped.
He stepped back and slapped her. She cried out as her head bounced off the cupboard and she tried to pull away, but his hand was in her hair again, too tangled to break free.
“Please,” she sobbed, “s-someone will be here s-s-soon. If you don’t w-want to go to jail, you s-should let me g-go and leave.”
“Your boyfriend’s gone. No one’s gonna save you this time, sweetheart.”
She gulped and forced her trembling knees to stay straight, hating the way he used the endearment that Cade had so often said to her.
“But, just in case,” he’d said as he cupped her breast and squeezed again, “I’ve got a better place where no one will disturb us.” His fevered eyes flashed with lust and eagerness. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to my touch.”
Bile bubbled into her throat, choking and burning the already raw flesh and keeping her from screaming again.
“No.” It was barely a whisper.
“Oh, yes,” JR said with a nasty smile. “Now, where’s the rest of your money?”
She’d been too afraid to do anything but tell him. Once he dug the five twenties out of her tea bin, he’d pocketed the cash and then grabbed a serrated knife from her kitchen drawer.
“No!” she screeched as he dragged her to the garage door. “Don’t hurt me. I won’t say anything. You don’t have to hurt me.”
He’d only laughed and tugged her into the darkened room.
She’d fought him, given everything she had in a last ditch effort to escape, but he’d been too strong. Before she knew what he was about to do, he’d shoved her face down on the cold floor and had bound her hands and feet. Then he ripped off another large piece of her torn shirt and shoved it into her mouth. She tried to spit it out, but another section
