Cleft’s fingers fell to the button of his jeans. He nodded to the other two men in the room, who had quietly watched the horror unfold without a word. “Get him on his knees.” He retreated a few steps. “In fact, make him kneel in his fucking puke.” He grinned in such a chilling way, the smile crawled down my back like a spider.

“Do your girl a favor and open your mouth big.” He unbuckled, and I stiffened, my teeth grinding as he lowered the zipper. The fucker had a huge-ass erection.

My nightmares came back, flooding my conscious mind with details I hadn’t been able to grasp until now. Something had seemed so familiar about Cleft. His smell especially—the odor of sweat and tobacco combined with whatever musky cologne he favored.

Now I knew why. He’d raped me in prison. Though I didn’t remember it with clarity, I knew it was true.

He folded his hand around his dick. “You’ve got two options. You can suck me off, or Brock can have some more fun with your girl. Your choice.”

I couldn’t breathe. Oh my fucking God. There was no choice. Not even a little.

His goons loosened the chains keeping me upright, and I collapsed to my knees, right in the middle of my vomit. Goon number one grabbed the back of my head and held me in place while the other forced my arms in the air again with a jerk of the chains.

The moment was surreal, like an echo from a nightmare that twisted my insides. I opened for him, focusing only on memories of Alex—on what it felt like to wrap my body around hers, how hot and wet she’d been when I dipped my fingers between her thighs. The whimpering sound she made in the back of her throat when I possessed her mouth.

Cleft pushed his cock against my tongue, and I gagged.

Memories flashed behind my eyes, crashing through the barrier like a dam busting. The rapes in prison, how deep his hatred for me ran, though my psyche refused to stir up the reason why. It was there, tickling the edges of my memories, but that sick feeling returned and scattered the path to recollection, and my heart thumped so fast, I thought I’d black out.

He pulled back, and his dick slipped free. “Fuck this. I wanna fuck.” A quick nod to his men sent them into motion. They released my hands and shoved me to the floor. I struggled in my vomit, my limbs little more than deadweight. Someone grabbed my legs, but I kicked behind me and pushed to all fours.

Laughter. Footsteps.