No.
No no no no no—
The gloved hand drops from my mouth, only for another to clamp a rag over my face.
Chemical sting, sweet and bitter.
My knees buckle. The last thing I see is Wilbur’s face through the glass, still outside, still watching, grunting and mad at the intruders.
Then—
Darkness.
My eyes flutter open, just slits, and I realize I’m moving.
Hovering.
My body swings with each of his steps. Arms dangle. Head lolls. I’m being carried like a rag doll, and the world blurs behind a smeared, glazed film.
Hot night air.
Cement underfoot. Maybe the back of my house.
The scent of leather and something sharp and chemical still clings to my face. My eyelids fight to stay open, but the chloroform claws at my brain. And ahead of us—
The van.
That van.
The same one from that horrible night. Oh, God. Riser. My stomach lurches. The ski masked man opens the back doors. I’m pulled in. No ceremony. Just dumped.
The clown mask peers down at me, chuckling. “Nice tits.”
Another masked man climbs in after and drags me back against his chest, holding me there like I’m his favorite fucktoy.
My skin crawls.
I try to twist, but my limbs won’t cooperate. My arms feel underwater. My muscles flicker, twitchy and weak.
I shiver when—
A mouth.
On my neck.
Wet. Greedy. Dragging his teeth and sucking like he’s starved for me!
I can’t see him, but I feel everything. His tongue. His breath. His stubble.
Too familiar.
Too wrong.
Riser.
He presses closer. I feel his hard shaft against my ass. It makes me gag. I try to cry out, but my throat closes up.
“Please...” I whisper, barely audible. “No. Please don’t.”
