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Emily squeezed her eyes shut and braced her mind for the pain. She shook and struggled as Geoffrey held her against the wooden surface.
Albert laughed behind her and placed his hand on her hip. “She really hates this, doesn’t she?”
“She does.”
“Good.”
Emily shrieked as he forced his way into her body. Yes, he’d used lube—lots of it—but it still hurt. Her memories threatened to overwhelm her as she struggled to hold onto reality.
“Do you hear the music, Em?” Geoffrey whispered in her ear and she cried out, shaking her head. “Hear it. Relive it.”
A moment later, the Tchaikovsky violin concerto echoed in her ears. Geoffrey had turned on the stereo in the corner. “No!” she wailed.
“What the fuck?” Albert snapped.
“Trust me,” Geoffrey said, releasing Emily’s head.
Emily’s head spun and her memories consumed her. She was fourteen again, back in the cabin—this time in the massive living room—being taken by Rafael’s friends. She couldn’t escape the music or the memories.
She couldn’t open her eyes. The memories took hold of her mind like a boa constrictor squeezing the life out of its prey. The pain reverberated throughout her body and she screamed.
Someone grabbed her from behind and pulled her to the ground, slamming her against the floor and pressing her head against the smooth wood. She screamed, she struggled. A man cursed and jerked against her hips. He yanked himself out of her ass and Emily cried as another replaced him.
She screamed and struggled more, but they were so strong, so determined. There was no escape. The room spun, her mind went blank, and all she could do was hear the music and feel the pain.
Then she went numb. She felt nothing but knew they hadn’t left her alone.
The man behind her grunted as he came. A cool breeze told her he was gone. Her ass cheeks were spread and she heard laughter as she felt pressure against her ass, but there was no more pain.
“Fuck. She’s done. She won’t respond anymore.”
The music stopped and footsteps went in the direction of the door. It opened and closed, and the room was silent. She glanced up at the other girl in the cage in the corner. They stared at each other for a long moment, and then Emily closed her eyes and let the blackness consume her.
Twenty-Four
Mark wentthrough his normal warmups on stage, keeping one eye on the seats of the audience as people trickled in for the open rehearsal. He’d left word at the front to let Emily in if she showed up.
He’d spent yesterday thinking about Emily way too much. He’d watched the video several times, each time becoming more and more convinced it really was Emily. But that girl’s name had been Emma Parker. Had she changed her name? Where had she gone? Why had she left after being told she was such a promising musician?
“You’re distracted today,” Sandra said in a low voice. “Did Saturday blow your mind?” She laughed.
Mark chuckled. “It was amazing. I haven’t relaxed like that in ages.” Surprisingly, he didn’t feel awkward about being around the other musicians after Saturday night. If anything, he was more relaxed having spent time with them, and they with him, and everyone realizing they were all normal people.
Sandra glanced over at Kelly, sitting next to her. The redhead frowned as she played through part of the modern piece. “I know Kelly enjoyed it.”
Mark grinned. The night had devolved into a downright orgy. He wasn’t exactly sure who all he’d fucked, but man, it had been wild. He’d never experienced anything like that before, and he’d experienced a lot of things.
As good a time Saturday night had been, though, yesterday, all he’d been able to do was think about kissing Emily.
“Uh-oh, you’re turning pensive again.”
“Sorry.”
She shrugged. “You okay?”
He nodded. “Yeah, just distracted.”
“About Saturday?”
