Things started unravelling shortly after. He had served in Iraq for a few months, and when he came back he was a totally different person. The loveable, fun guy had been replaced with a dark, empty, spiteful shell.

His paranoia was the worst. He’d been convinced I was cheating on him. On several occasions he went as far as almost physically harming me. I swore to him then that if he laid so much as a finger on me, I’d be gone, and he would never see me again. He promised he’d get help. And he did. Things improved from there.

It took all of a month for shit to get really bad. By that stage, he no longer worked. He spent his days surfing the Internet, watching porn, sleeping, and drinking. Then he began to get really violent. Sexually violent. He would choke me during sex, among other things. He had gone from a gentle, intimate lover to a violent creep who got off on causing me pain.

Telling Mom and Dad that I’d broken things off with their dream boyfriend had been fun. I’d seriously thought Dad was going to start crying. Then the lectures began—about how insensitive I was for breaking up with a man who was obviously suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder.

The thing was, he didn’t want my help. Over and over I tried to help him, but he kept pushing me away. What else was I supposed to do? I was a twenty-year-old girl who was too afraid to sleep in the same bed as her fiancé in case he went too far.

I was living a nightmare, waiting for the day when I’d wake up with his hands around my neck. The fact that I could even think he was capable of that had been a wake up call to get the hell out of that relationship.

So I had. And I vowed never to put myself in that kind of situation again.

I sure knew how to pick them.

#

Now for the fun part.

Tracking Ben down would be no problem: he was a decorated army officer who had worked with my father for years—hence Dad’s love for the guy. Tracking down email addresses of current army officers was surprisingly easy. Which had always struck me as weird, considering the whole protecting-the-nation thing.

I grabbed my laptop and navigated to trusty Google. It took all of five minutes for me to be staring at his email address. Did I really want to do this?

Where Mace was scary and short-tempered, Ben had been the complete opposite. Way too calm and collected. His ‘interests’ had scared the fuck out of me—enough for me to get the hell out of that relationship.

But I didn’t see another way. As much as our relationship had gone downhill   fast, in an odd way, Ben was the only person I felt I could trust—probably because I could ruin his reputation in half a second if I wanted to. Having that kind of power over someone made them a very trustworthy confidante.

Okay, do this before you change your mind, Leets.

Ben,

Long time, huh? Hope you are well. You’re probably wondering why the hell I’m contacting you after so long, and well, I need a favour. A big one. Get back to me. My number is still the same.

Leeta

Short and sweet.

There was no point going into detail without knowing if he was willing to help me or not. Sighing, I closed the laptop and put it on charge. I needed sleep. I was so past tired, it wasn’t even funny.

I changed into my pyjamas and climbed into bed, exhausted. Fumbling through my bedside table, I found my stash of Valium. I rarely used sleeping aids, but I had so much crammed into my head right then that sleep felt impossible without assistance.

I lay there waiting for the tablet to take effect. It didn’t take long for me start to feel woozy. I closed my eyes and tried to force all the negative thoughts out of my head.

All this, I’d deal with tomorrow. Right then, nothing seemed as important as getting some sleep.

Mace

She knows.

It all added up. She had to know. She was at my house, my computer had been used, she didn’t want to see me . . . and then when I’d turned up, she couldn’t stand to be touched by me. It all added up to one thing.

She fucking knew. She had to have seen the videos. I hit the steering wheel in frustration. Christ, why hadn’t I deleted them?

This was a nightmare.

A fucking mess.

There was no way to put a positive spin on this. No matter which way you swung it, what I was involved in was unforgivable. Of course, what she was thinking was a thousand times worse than the actual reality, but the reality was still pretty bad. I wanted to tell her, but what would I say?

Hey, it’s okay. I wasn’t raping them. I was just fucking them.

I laughed. I was a stupid idiot for getting involved with her in the first place. The smart thing to do would’ve been to build a friendship until all this blew over. But friendship with Leet was never going to work. How could I be friends with someone I couldn’t stop thinking about?

I felt bad for betraying her, but I couldn’t feel bad about what I was doing. This was so much bigger than her and me, and I wasn’t going to apologize for that. The thought of hurting her in any way tore me up inside, but I wasn’t going to back down on this.

I couldn’t.

There was only one way to resolve this: I had to stop her talking. I had to make her calm down and listen to me, however long that took.

I revved the engine and took off.

#

Four in the morning, and I was back out the front of her unit. I scanned the dark street, looking for signs of life, but there were none. It was dead quiet. My heart pounded as I reached for the gloves, sliding them over my shaking hands. I took a deep breath and grabbed the bag. This was the only way.

I walked up the three steps to the front door of her flat, clutching the key in my hand. Slowly, I inserted it into the lock and turned it. It wasn’t breaking and entering if I had a key, right? Somehow, I wasn’t sure the cops would agree.

I turned the handle, well aware that she was probably on full alert. The slightest noise was bound to wake her up. What if she wasn’t even asleep? Hell, if I were in her shoes, I’d be fucking wired.

I swiftly pushed open the door, praying it wouldn’t creak. Once I was safely inside, I let myself relax. I was doing the right thing. If I was right about all this, then I could only imagine what was going through her head.

She must hate me right now. No, hate would be too weak a word for what she’d be feeling. Hate didn’t run deep enough. That was why I was doing this: if she wanted to hate me once she knew everything, then fine; but I was fucked if I was going to let her base her opinion of me on the little she thought she knew.

With each step I took down her hallway, my determination wavered.

Think about Anna. I was doing this for her. I hoped Leeta would forgive me for this eventually, but everything I was doing was for my sister, and for every other woman those fuckers had violated.

I walked into her bedroom. Leet lay sprawled out on her stomach on the bed. I sighed, my cock twitching as I took in her bare legs and perky ass. She wore only a thin white tank and a tiny pair of pyjama shorts that were riding halfway up her ass. For half a second I forgot I was there to kidnap her, and wanted to climb in next to her and squeeze those plump little cheeks until they glowed nice and red. God, I was hard as fuck just thinking about that.

Fuck, Mace, think with your head and not your dick.

That was always going to be a hard task. When it came to Leet, I always thought with my cock. It wasn’t my fault she was so irresistible.

I took a breath and reached into my bag for the bottle and rag. Unscrewing the top, I poured enough of the clear liquid onto the rag until it was soaked through. Approaching the bed, I winced, thinking about how pissed off she was going to be when she came to. I’d seen Leet angry, but something told me I hadn’t seen anything compared to what was coming.