I stared, my heart racing, feeling sick. He’d watched me sleep in my apartment? God, how long had he been there before I’d woken up?

I shifted my eyes, stealing glances around the room again. I needed to get something in my hands. I wished I had the Damascus blade.

“Yeah, so clean and perfect,” he mused, pushing off the wall and walking around the couch. “Just like he wants you.”

I narrowed my eyes, slowly standing up and backing away as he approached. “Who?” I asked, my voice shaking.

Who wanted me clean and perfect?

My head throbbed, and I felt dizzy, but I held out my hands, trying to keep him away.

“Only you’re not so clean anymore, are you?” he gloated, ignoring my question. “Michael got his hands on you, and you’re only good for one thing now.”

“What are you talking about?” I stumbled backward, my fists curling as fear coiled in my gut.

“Don’t worry, he’ll get some fun out of you.” Damon inched toward me, a sick smile in his eyes. “But he’d never marry his brother’s whore.”

Marry…what?

And then Damon’s eyes flashed behind me, and I swung around, seeing Trevor standing right behind me.

He stood tall and imposing, dressed in jeans and a navy blue Polo. His blonde hair was still cut close to the scalp, military-style, and his blue eyes pierced me, looking smug.

I shook my head. “Trevor?”

And I only had a second before his hand came down and whipped across my face. I stepped back, trying not to fall as my head jerked to the side and fire blazed across my cheek like a million needle pricks under my skin. Tears sprang to my eyes, and I held my face as the pain in my head exploded and everything became blurry.

Damon grabbed me and spun me around, throwing me over his shoulder.

“No!” I cried, pushing at his back and squirming. I coughed, feeling the bile in my stomach rise up into my throat as he carried me off down a dark passageway.

“Damon!” I choked, feeling the heaves rumbling through my stomach. “Damon, please.”

He carried me through a doorway, and I grabbed hold of the frame, stopping him as I kicked and struggled. “Let me go, you sick piece of shit!” I screamed, because I was sick of being afraid. “You’re nothing! You hear me? You’re nothing but garbage, and I hope you die!”

He yanked hard, and I lost my grip, my arms shooting with pain from being nearly pulled out of their sockets.

I flew through the air, my breath catching in my throat as I landed on a bed. I immediately shot up to a sitting position, but he came down right on me again. Grabbing my wrists, he pulled me up the bed and planted his knee in my chest, holding me in place.

“Damon!” I barked, but my lungs emptied with his weight on my chest, and I couldn’t take in anything but short breaths.

“Don’t talk,” he growled.

I thrashed and pushed my body up off the bed, choking and coughing as I tried to suck in air and get him off me.

“Fuck you!” I tried to yell, but it came out strained.

He pulled something brownish out of his pocket and wrapped the itchy fabric around my wrists.

“No!” I tried to yank my hands away, to swing at him or throw him off or anything, but he just held me tighter.

I tried sucking in a breath, despite the weight on my chest, but it was ragged. He tied me up, securing my hands to the headboard.

Looking around quickly, I noticed an entire wall of windows behind Damon, showing a vast blackness outside and stars in the night sky. There was nothing on the bedside tables I could use as a weapon, but if I could get free, there was no doubt something in one of the drawers or in the bathroom.

“Where are we?” I demanded, my skin burning under the knots he tied.

“Two miles off the coast of Thunder Bay.”

I slowed, staring up at him. We were out at sea? Why?

I thought maybe we were docked in the marina, where the yacht was usually kept, but there could only be one reason to take it out.

There wouldn’t be any help out here.

“Michael…” I said quietly, not sure what I was asking.

“He’ll be here soon,” Damon said, sounding like he was saying, it’ll all be over soon.

A shiver ran up my spine, and I sucked in a welcome breath as he took his knee off my chest.

But the freedom from his weight didn’t last. He came down on me again, forcing my thighs apart as he nestled his waist between my jean-clad legs. Every muscle in my body tensed as he propped himself up with both arms, staring down at me.

“Now that I have you to myself,” he taunted, his gaze turning heated.

I jerked, pulling at the restraints and letting out a growl. Tears spilled down the sides of my head in my hair, and I heaved breath and breath, trying to yank my arms free.

“Such a fighter,” he commended. “I knew you were going to be a lot of fun.”

I pressed my bare feet into the mattress, squirming and trying to arch my body off the bed, but he only laughed, pressing his hardening cock between my legs.

I cringed, turning my head away and trying to sink into the pillow to get away from him.

“Keep doing that,” he begged. “It feels so good, Rika.”

And then he lowered his mouth to my cheek. “Come on,” he breathed out, his tongue flicking my jaw. “You know it’s going to happen. I think you’re afraid you’ll like it.”

I shook my head and turned to meet his eyes, glaring at him. “You won’t do this. I know you.”