And now that Rachel knows what Case and I have done, she is going to try her hardest to make it worse on me. She knows I like Case. Hell, I don’t know anyone who would sleep with someone they don’t like. I was just stupid enough to feel more for him and think he would open up to me.

A cold chill rolls over my body, and I wrap my arms around myself. He can be such an ass at times. I continue to walk down the alleyway muttering to myself when I hear something behind me. I stop and turn around to look. It’s just me. I shiver as I feel a coldness creep up my spine. Turning back around, I start to walk again.

How could he …?

I hear something again. I turn back around. Nothing. “Case?” I call out. Still nothing. Uncrossing my arms, I place my hands on my hips, as my patience is getting thinner. “Cut it out, Case,” I snap. “This isn’t funny.” I reach up and wipe the single tear that runs down my cheek.

A man steps out from behind a dumpster, and my heart starts to pound in my chest. “Case?” I ask hoping he’s playing some stupid game with me. I can’t tell if it’s him or not. It’s too dark where the man in standing and all I can see is a silhouette. “Case, stop,” I shout, my pulse racing.

He just stands there, hands down to his side, hiding in the shadows. I let out a growl and decide to go to him. As soon as I take a step, another guy steps out from the other side of the alleyway.

I come to a halt. Not Case. This isn’t Case at all.

My hands start to shake and my breathing becomes ragged. I frantically start to try to think of an escape plan, but I have nothing. They are standing closer to the back door of the club than I am. And I’m never back here so I don’t really know where I could go. What else could I do? I could lie. “Stay back,” I yell, and my voice cracks. “I have mace.” I can barely see them, so they can’t see if I’m telling the truth or not. I hope.

They both chuckle. A low and malicious chuckle that tells me either they don’t believe me or even if I did have it, it wouldn’t stop them. “You’re gonna need more than that, bitch.” He confirms my worse thoughts.

The one on the right, who I think was the one who spoke, the silhouette of his hand disappears into the darkness. When it returns, there’s a knife in his hand. I can make out the outline from the old buzzing light behind him.

For a second, I stop breathing and I’m frozen in place. I can’t beat them. Even from fifty yards away, I can see their huge size. Plus two against one is never fair if you ask me.

So I do the only thing I can think to do. I spin around and run.

Do you ever have those dreams where someone is chasing you and you’re running but you’re not getting anywhere? Your legs feel sluggish and heavy and you just wanna scream in frustration? Real life is nothing like that.

I ran faster than I knew I was capable. The sound of my heart beating fills my own ears so loudly that I can’t hear anything else. I suck in breath after breath causing my throat to burn and an ache in my side. But I push through it, not wanting to face the consequences of giving up.

I come up to the end of the club and there’s another alleyway; I can either continue on forward or turn right. A quick decision makes me turn right. I can see what is ahead and there is nothing there but more alley. Maybe if I go right, I can hide behind something or escape behind a door.

But that hope is shattered the second I turn the corner and see nothing but alley. Damn Case for having his club in the middle of an industrial run-down part of town. I see a few dumpsters up ahead that sit outside of the abandoned warehouses, but they would find me if I stopped to hide in one of them. And then I would be easy prey.

I refuse to look back to where they are. The only thing I can do is pray their size will slow them down, but they looked tall, meaning that one step probably equals two of mine. They’ve gotta be gaining on me. I suck in another breath and my hair whips in my face. I can see a street up ahead, and I pray to God that he lets me make it. I just need to be around people. Then the realization that it’s past two in the morning has my chest tightening.

Just as I make it to the end of the alleyway, I’m hit from behind; my head snaps back as two arms wrap around my upper chest, preventing me from using my hands to catch my fall.

I land on my side, scraping my skin on the concrete. I scream as I feel my bones ache and skin on my arm tear.

I roll a couple of times from the momentum before I come to a stop on my stomach.

I try to breathe, but the weight of the guy who landed on top of me from the fall is making it hard. I scream out a cry of help when I’m yanked to stand by my hair. Once on my shaky feet, I’m spun around. One of the guys grabs my arms and yanks them behind my back. He places his arm in the crease of my elbows to hold them in place behind my back. The other comes to stand in front of me.

I try to shove the guy off me who has my arms, but his vise-like grip just pulls them farther back. And I cry out from the soreness in my body.

The guy in front of me slaps his hand over my mouth, pushing my head into the chest of the guy who is holding me in place. The thought alone of his hand on my mouth makes me want to puke, forget the fact that they both smell like cigarettes and bourbon. I try to get a good look at him, but my eyes sting with unshed tears and he’s wearing a black mask.

My chest rises and falls quickly as my heart continues to pound so hard I fear it may explode. The man in front of me raises the knife and I tense. Holding my breath, I close my eyes as the tears spill over my cheeks and I say a little prayer.

“Let’s see what she has to offer,” the man in front of me says in excitement as if he’s about to open a present on Christmas morning. The man holding me chuckles, and I let out a muffled sob due to the man’s hand over my mouth.

I feel cold steel on my exposed shoulder and another sob wracks my body. I can’t stop shaking as the knife runs down my shoulder and across my chest. I try to shake my head, to free my mouth from his hand, but he just digs his fingers into my cheeks causing more pain.

God, please help me.

He places the knife between my breasts above where my corset starts. I stop breathing as I prepare for him to stab me. But instead of piercing my skin, he pushes it downward. More tears run down my face at the sound of my corset tearing. I feel the night breeze on my exposed chest seconds before he removes his hand away from my mouth. I suck in air and then the man behind me releases my arms and shoves me forward and I lose my balance, falling down.

I lie on the uneven, rocky concrete, topless and shaking to death as tears fall from my eyes as they laugh behind me. And I realize they’re not gonna kill me. Yet. They’re gonna play with me as if I’m a toy. And I have no way of fighting them off. My body is already shutting down on me. I’m desperate to survive. So I scream. I fill my lungs with everything I have and my chest hurts as if they just stabbed me. Then I let it all out.

It’s cut off when what feels like a steel toe boot lands in my ribs, and I’m knocked to my back. Air. Gasping for air, I try to suck in but nothing. I need air. I try to breathe in again. Nothing. I roll back over and make my way up to my hands and knees. Frantically, I push up onto my knees as I hunch over, both hands now wrapped around my bare stomach. I’m shaking so hard my teeth are chattering.

Please, Lord. Help me.

I’m finally able to suck in a breath, but my lungs burn so bad I tremble as I try to take another one.

As I sit hunched over on the concrete, I watch through tear filled eyes as their black boots move for them to stand in front of me.

The one still holding the knife possessively grabs my chin so hard I’ll be surprised if I don’t have a bruise. If I live through this. He forces me to look up at