“No! Please! Stop! Xavier! Stop!”
My naked feet scraped the sidewalk as Xavier dragged me out of the room and toward a car, his grip never loosening.
I’d wake up soon. I’d wake up soon.
“Get in.”
Violently, he shoved me into the backseat, my face hitting the cool leather. I turned around to see him climb in right after me, swiftly catching my kicking legs and collecting me in his arms.
“Shh…shh,mon amour,” he muttered in my ear and yanked on my hair again, threatening to rip it all out. “It’s almost done, baby. We’ll go home soon. Look.”
Xavier pointed to our room—where my Alex was on the floor, bleeding,dying, but as if on cue, all the men exited slowly, shutting the door behind them. Casually, like this was a regular day, one of them climbed into the front seat of our car and turned the ignition on.
I screamed.
I hit.
I fought.
I scratched, bit, kicked, and thrashed.
But Xavier was stronger.
And now…I was his.
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