“Tom had to have a plan. I hoped he had a plan. Tears sprang to my eyes, but I refused to acknowledge them. I wouldn’t give these bastards the satisfaction of seeing me cry. My chest hurt with the effort of breathing, and my lungs grew tighter with every passing second. The men gathered in front of me, laughing, and jostling each other. Arguing over who would have me first. I blinked my tears back, and stared at the floor. At the cluster of burning candles. Could I kick them over? Create a ...distraction? The man holding me squeezed me hard, his hand creeping up toward my chest. I would not let him grope me. Breathe. And again. I went wild in his arms. If I dislocated my shoulder, I’d have to deal with it; I’d get free somehow. I wriggled, and tried to jerk out of his grasp. I caught him by surprise. His grip loosened a fraction. I kicked out. My foot swung woefully short of the candles.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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