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Don drags me into the house and tosses me on the couch. I scramble to get away from him. Not willing to go down without a fight. I’m so focused on crossing the room I don’t see his hand coming until it smacks me across the face.

“Bitch,” he seethes. “You want it rough, I can make that happen.” This time it’s his fist that connects with my jaw, and the hit has me seeing stars and crying out in pain.

“Oh, did that hurt? Just wait.” He tosses me back on the couch. I kick out my legs to keep him from advancing on me, but he’s fast, moving out of the way. He kicks back, right at my knee, and the pain is excruciating. “Fuck you!” he screams with spittle flying out his mouth.

I’m sobbing, but that doesn’t keep me from fighting him when he comes at me with a knife. “Don’t move,” he sneers, holding the knife toward me. My chest heaves, but I stop my movements, not sure what he’s going to do. My body trembles with fear as he takes the knife and slices down the middle of the blouse I wore to work today. It was one I bought on one of my many shopping trips with Sawyer. It was also one of my favorites. “There she is,” he breathes the words. “Just like I remember.”

“Don! You want a beer?” my pathetic excuse for a mother calls out. “Looks like he’s got the good stuff.”

“Yeah!” Don calls back.

A few seconds later, my mother appears with two beer bottles. She doesn’t even spare me a glance as she hands Don his beer. “I’ll go get the camera,” she tells him, turning to walk back out of the room.

“This time, you’re going to know you’re being recorded. And the world will know it’s you. I’m not going to hide your face this time. No, that would be a shame. Then they won’t be able to see what I’ve done. They won’t be able to see what happens when you fight me.” His grin is filled with malice.

“Please let me go. I don’t have much, but I’ll give you what I have,” I plead with him.

“You might not, but that man of yours does. Have you changed your mind? I gotta admit, that would change plans for tonight.”

“No.” I swallow hard. “I won’t take money from him to give to you.”

“That dick must be good,” my mother says, joining us again.

“She’s about to see what good dick is like.” Don grabs his crotch yet again. The eye that’s not swollen shut closes so I can try to block out what’s happening.

I send up a silent prayer. Please God, if things get worse, don’t let Owen be the one to find me.

“Stand up.” Don yanks on my arm. I pull, not wanting to stand. Partly because I’m afraid of what he’s going to do next, and partly because the pain in my knee is still throbbing. “Fucking stand up!” he screams. His hand once again connects with my cheek, and it feels as though he pulls my arm out of its socket when he tugs me from the couch.

I stumble as he hauls me along behind him, only to feel another set of arms capture me from behind. “Hold still,” my mother scolds me.

“Just need a minute,” Don says. The next thing I know his hands are on my waist and he’s got my skirt around my ankles. “Fuck, the real thing is so much better,” he says. “Get a chair,” he tells my mother, as he slides his arms around me and pulls me close. He nips at my earlobe. “You fucked up, little girl. You should have given us what we wanted.” With that, he pushes me, and I fall into a hard chair. I’m guessing one from the dining room.

With his hands on my shoulders, he holds me to the chair while my mother ties my arms behind my back. “I’ll get the camera set up,” he tells her.

“Mom, please don’t do this.”

“You refuse to get me the money that I want, then I’ll take it. Your little moving stunt cost me a lot and I have people that I owe. I told you I would get it out of you one way or the other.” She tightens the rope so tight I can already feel the circulation being cut off on my wrists.

“It’s showtime,” Don says, standing before me. My eye is so swollen I can’t see out of it. With my one good eye, I see him advancing on me with the knife held out in front of him. That’s when I feel the rope tighten around my legs. “I’ve missed these,” Don says, taking the knife and cutting my bra in the middle. I feel the cups being torn from my breasts.

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