The one he desired the most, but someone wanted her more.
Her resilience fading, Rebecca fights to remain strong against the man trying to destroy her mind and her life. Without the solace of Eric’s arms, Rebecca’s will to recover from the relentless blows wanes as she begins to break. Eric, forced to face his own choices, races to end the nightmare before the woman he loves is completely torn apart.
Just when they think the worst is over, the game, and the stakes change.
Reluctantly stripping off her clothes, she stepped into the shower. Unable to take any enjoyment out of the heated streams of water sliding against her body, she effectively washed away the physical dirt. Her skin, however, continued to crawl the residual filth of discomfort covering her body. Without warning, the world around her went fuzzy. She planted her hands against the tile of the wall waiting for the spell to pass.
Come on Beccs, you need to pull it together. You can’t lose it yet. You have to keep going.
You have to keep going.
You can do this… just breathe…
The shower allowed her to breathe, and her sight cleared. She stepped and shivered despite the warmth of the room. The dress slid over her body, but its flawlessness made her feel disjointed and foreign. She tugged at the zipper and took in her reflection. Her bruised face staring at her. She gulped back the tears threatening to fall., She acknowledged all the damage he had done and her hands shook as she fought for control.
She ached for Eric. Closing her eyes she could almost feel his arms around her, the warmth of his chest against her cheek.
He will come.
He will find me.
She heard the door of the bedroom opening and spun toward it. Marco entered, motioning her to join him. She lingered, looked at the armed guard behind him and then moved.
"Rebecca, you have to admit. I have extremely good taste." He moved around her, licking his lips, while scrutinizing her body. He moved closer and she restrained her disgust with a short breath. "Your body really does fill that dress in all the right places."
She felt him just behind her shoulder. His hand rested on the small of her back. It proceeded to shift down her hip, and then across her lower abdomen like a tentacle. He moved to face her, his eyes cold and darting. He decided to brush the inside of her leg, and she suppressed a tremble of loathing.
"It’s not often a dress pales in comparison to the body it encompasses. It’s too bad Detective Stiles isn't here to enjoy it with me.” His breath on her neck, a chill ran up her spine, the blood draining from her cheeks. "You look so pale, sweetheart, did I hit a nerve?"
Mid-breath, she straightened her back and lowered her shoulders. His face stopped within inches of hers.
"What you did with Lucy was…brave," he taunted, staring down at her lips. "It makes me wonder about Detective Stiles’ bravery in his time of trial."
"What are you boasting about now?" she asked, lining her voice with thick sarcasm, lifting her chin in defiance of him.
"Tit for Tat, Beccs." His hand rested on her hip, and he smiled. "You take something from me, and I take something from you. You didn't really think I was going to let it go…did you?"
Her heart panicked uncontrolled but she refused to take what he was saying at face value. He was taunting her, trying to get her to fight him, so he had an excuse. He was pissed at what she’d done, so he was trying to torture her.
His eyes remained focused on her lips. She turned her face away from him in disgust. Within a breath, he yanked at her hair and she felt his tongue against her now exposed neck.
"You don't believe me?" he said into her neck and she fought the rising fury sweeping through her.
Marco held a cell phone up for her to see. A picture of Eric on the ground covered in blood. His face dark, his eyes closed.
She turned away from the photograph, in an attempt to deny the panic rising in her chest. He grabbed her hair and forced her to look at the image. Despite her efforts to push it out of her mind, her body trembled when the reality hit.
"He's not coming for you Rebecca. You're all alone. No one is coming for you, and soon, you won't want them to.