“They raped me in there, Alex.”

I couldn’t breathe, and not because his hands threatened to shut off my air, but for the first time, I really allowed myself to see what I’d done to him. “Kill me,” I said, hot, salty drops of regret trickling into my mouth. “I deserve it.”

He narrowed his eyes—eyes suddenly bright with pain—and pressed harder on my throat.

My mouth opened, and I gasped as spots floated in the air. The room narrowed, walls closing in a little more with each thump of my heart. I thought it would pound out of my chest. “Do it,” I squeaked.

“Fuck me,” he choked out. The vulnerability in his tone tore me in two. He let go of my throat, and I sucked in air until I thought my lungs would burst.

“I wish I could take it back,” I said, squeezing my eyes shut. I’d caused him so much pain, had ruined his life. I’d done this to the only guy I’d ever loved. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” I said it over and over, wishing he’d believe me, wishing I could turn back time. “If you need to talk about it—”

“Shut up.” He returned me to my side and trapped me against his body. “It’s late. Get some damn sleep.” Instead of returning me to the cellar, he clung to me, one hand fisting my hair while the other claimed my breast. His legs tangled with mine.

I knew this conversation was far from over. He wouldn’t stop until he got the truth, and I wondered how long I could hold out. How many choke holds could I handle? How many hours suspended by my wrists, alone in the cold, dank cellar? How many times could I withstand him torturing me with sex?

I brought my fists up, pressed them to trembling lips, and dug sharp fingernails into my palms. When it came to Rafe, I never knew what was coming next, and I didn’t know what he was capable of, especially in light of his admission. I shuddered to think of what he’d been through. I was a pampered, spoiled brat. Selfish to the core. I should have stopped it. I should have spoken up and told the police the truth, but as the first hours passed, most of them spent in a state of shock, I lost what small bit of courage I might have possessed. Hours turned into days…days into months…months into years.

All the while, Rafe had been in hell.

For all the tough guy front he put up, I believed he did care about me, somewhere inside him where the guy I remembered still existed. He might have loved me, if things had turned out differently. If I hadn’t wrecked him.