Free Rampant by Gemma James

eyes. “I had to know if he lived or not, so I went to Dante’s Pass yesterday.” He crouched in front of me, tilting his head. “You know what I found, Lex? I saw him strolling through town without a care in the world. Didn’t take him long to wind up on the doorstep of Nikki Malone. Remember her? I guess old habits die hard.”
    I shook my head, refusing to let hope rush in.
    “It’s true, so you can let go of the guilt and blame game because he survived.” Zach stood again and gestured to the vast wilderness that enclosed us in hell. “But where is he now, huh?”
    My heart leapt, despite knowing better. “Don’t mess with my head like that. You’re lying.”
    “It’s the truth. He’s not coming for you. Why would he? He has Nikki to keep his dick occupied. For fuck’s sake, you sent him to prison. Do you honestly think he’d love you after you had him locked up?”
    My sobs escaped in gasping, pathetic hiccups. I struggled to my knees and gripped my midsection, unable to catch my breath as the echo of his words struck me in the gut with sharp-edged truth.
    Zach knelt down and held my face in his hands. “ I love you. No matter what. No matter how much you say you hate me or try to push me away, I love you. Always .”
    “You hurt me.”
    “You used to like pain.”
    With tears streaming down my face, I saw Zach in a warped light, blurred from the product of my sorrow. He believed every word he’d said. An image surfaced, a blip in time in which I saw him as my brother, the boy I remembered from what seemed like a different lifetime. The brother who would do anything to make me feel better. But that boy was gone. Not a facet of his innocence remained. A chill spread over me, and goose bumps broke out on every inch of flesh.
    “Just because my body is fucked up, that doesn’t mean I love you.”
    His hands slipped from my face. He stood, brows narrowed as he glared down at me. “He will never love you like I do. Never .”
    “You’re right. He won’t. But I’ll never love you like I do him.”

It took four of them to hold me down, my cheek pressed to the gritty cement. The biggest and meanest straddled my thighs, his rough hands spreading my ass cheeks as he worked his cock between them. I tried to buck him off. His laughter gave him away; he was enjoying the struggle. More laughter sounded, deeper, gruffer, but it didn’t come from the assholes doing this. No, it came from the assholes allowing this to happen. The scent of tobacco blanketed the shower room, wafting in the air so thickly, I nearly choked.
    No choking. No sound. I’d fight, but they wouldn’t drag a plea from me. I gritted my teeth, pulled against the vise grip of the other three pricks restraining me, and closed my eyes as a scorching burn ignited in my rectum…
    I shot up in bed, my hands fisting the sweat-drenched sheets. With a shudder, I let a breath out and fell against the headboard. The same nightmare had plagued me for the last four nights, but I didn’t want to analyze it. I wanted to forget every fucking detail. I pulled deep breaths into my lungs and waited for the pounding thud of my heartbeat to slow, to stop hammering at my throat. Flinging the damp, gnarled sheet to the side, I slipped from bed and padded across the loft bedroom to the stairs that lowered to the first floor.
    Two things beckoned me: a bottle of vodka I’d found stashed away in the back of a cupboard, and the smoking gun in the cellar—the cage. Landing on the bottom step, I glanced around the empty living room.
    Jax hadn’t been back since I’d caught him with Nikki, and I hadn’t stuck around to hear their explanations.
    Absently, I grabbed the stashed vodka, unscrewed the lid, and took a drink straight from the bottle. Darkness blanketed the cabin, as not a single bulb highlighted the shadows. I didn’t feel inclined to turn on a lamp. The darkness called to me, the unassuming companionship it offered. Quiet solitude didn’t pester me