Page 155 of Breaker

To Delly.

“Stop,” I say again, firmer this time.

He presses harder. Putrid breaths on my neck. Tongue slicking grossly over my throat.

My vision blurs. Tears leak down my cheeks.

“Stop,” I say again.

It all happens in a blur of movement. A chaos of sound. My hand hits his face. He grunts, letting me go. I push away and leap up. Run. A hand fists the back of my shirt. A shoe kicks at my ankles. My feet fly out from under me. A scream rips from my throat. Then, I’m down, cold marble tile meeting my face, my cheek hitting the floor. Pain making air suck into my lungs. Cruel fingers weaving into my hair. Agony exploding behind my eyes as my forehead hits the floor. Again. Again.

My vision moves in and out of focus.

Pain like a million exploding firecrackers in my head.

His hard body at my back. Moving over me. Hands on the waistband of my jeans.

Tugging. Tugging.

Air against my flesh. Fingers pulling me apart.

Heat and hardness and rage pushing between my ass cheeks.

No. No. No.But there’s no words. Just an anguished scream of a woman being brutally reminded of her place.

***

When my eyes open, I think for a minute that someone’s drilling into my head with a power tool.

“Don’t move,” a familiar voice says. Raspy. The voice is raspy, lined with pain. I want to tell him he doesn’t need to worryabout me moving, but pain in my skull, in other parts as I try to move, makes my words come out in a pathetic whimper. “I think you may have a concussion.”

My eyes blink open and his face comes into view, a little blurry, but my body relaxes as his brown eyes look down at me, a frown tugging the corners of his lips.

“Clyde, if you keep making that face, it’s going to stay that way.” When I go to laugh bile rises in my throat and I lean over the edge of the bed and heave, but nothing comes up.

Black boots move into my line of vision.

Then I remember.

“Cora,” Clyde says his voice so gentle it may as well be coming from another man. “Can you sit up?”

“She needs to go to a fucking hospital,” Breaker says, anger and panic making his voice gritty.

“No,” I manage. “I’ve had worse.”

I swallow and do a mental check. My head fucking hurts, and I’m dizzy but I don’t think it’s a concussion. My throat feels raw and my…

I grip my pants and find them up and buttoned. terror makes my heart race. Shame makes my shin wobble. “Who found me?”

“Me,” Clyde says. I didn’t think my heart could hurt anymore but it does from the way his voice cracks.

Breaker drops to a crouch, but all I can see as I hang my head over the side of the bed are his large, strong hands. I love his hands.

“Did, he…” His voice trails off, but I hear everything he’s not asking.

Using every bit of strength I have, I sit up, doing my best not to wince at the pain. My eyes catch Clyde’s and my stomach sinks. I have no idea what state Rune left me in after I blackedout, but from the expression on Clyde’s face, he must have seen more than I would have liked.

The fact that Breaker is asking if I was violated means Clyde didn’t tell him. Smart man.

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