All Chained Up (Devil's Rock #1)(24)

The room whirled and buzzed as she struggled on the narrow bed against the weight bearing down on her. There was a dizzying flash of ceiling tiles and the inmate’s leering face over her. She turned her head sideways. His wet mouth landed on her cheek. A rush of stale breath filled her nose.

Her gaze landed on the single motionless figure in all of this nightmare. Knox Callaghan sat a few beds over, observing everything as if life and death wasn’t being played out around him.

Gronsky continued to nuzzle at her cheek. Bile surged in her throat. She raked her fingernails down the side of his face. He lurched back, fingering the scratches. “Bitch!” He cuffed her upside the head. Hard. She held still for a moment, stunned and out of breath, her ears ringing.

He seized her chin and forced her to face him. “This can go two ways. You fight me and I hurt you. Or you don’t fight. And I won’t hurt you.”

Apparently he didn’t consider raping her the same thing as hurting her.

“Either way,” he continued, readjusting his weight on top of her so she could feel the hardness of his erection at her thigh. “We’re going to take what we want from you.”

She pressed her lips together to suppress her sob. She wouldn’t break down. She’d seen and heard her mother cry enough over the years. It had never helped. Never did any good.

So there would be no tears from her. She wouldn’t give this animal the satisfaction. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t. And she wasn’t going to make it easy on him no matter how much pain he dealt her. Every moment counted. If she fought him long enough, maybe she could stall him. Maybe help would come in time. Help had to be coming. It had to.

She lifted her head off the bed and spit in his face.

“Fucking bitch,” he snarled, and then his hands were clawing at her, fast and angry, trying to get her out of her scrubs. Fabric ripped and she screamed and fought and struggled to escape. He was too strong. It was happening too fast.

“Pritchard,” he shouted to the other inmate. “Get over here and hold her.”

She twisted wildly, glancing around and spotting Josiah prone on the floor. Please not dead. Please not dead. There was no help coming from him.

Pritchard moved beside the bed. Grabbing her hands, he pinned them above her head on the mattress so hard she thought he would snap her wrists. She thrashed her lower body as Gronsky worked at the drawstring of her pants. Impatient curses flayed the air as he fought to undo the knot. She squirmed and twisted and worked her hips and legs. He flattened his body over her, digging an elbow deep into her abdomen and she cried out.

He gave a triumphant cry as the knot finally unraveled. Cool air wafted over her hips as he yanked down on her pants.

God. No, no, no.

“What about me?”

Everything inside her locked tight at the sound of that deep familiar voice.

Gronsky jerked his head around, his ponytail whipping on the air as he looked across the room.

She lifted her head, peering over the inmate’s shoulder to where Callaghan sat on the bed. The lines and hollows of his face still revealed nothing. As though the chaos and violence didn’t touch him at all.

“What about you?” Gronsky demanded, but his tone was different. Less edge. As though he recognized one of his own in Callaghan.

Callaghan angled his head and stared the other inmate down. It was remarkable. He was restrained to a bed while these two violent criminals had free rein of the infirmary, but he still managed to be scarily intimidating. He parted his lips and spoke words she couldn’t have imagined in her worst nightmares.

“I want a piece of her, too.”

A cold blade of fear scraped down her spine. No. She whimpered. Now, for some reason, the tears felt close. She was on the verge of breaking down. Knox Callaghan wanted to hurt her. He wanted to do this terrible thing to her.

Gronsky hesitated and sent a long look to his friend hovering above her. Pritchard’s hands flexed around her forearms above her head, each finger bruising her tender skin.

“What do you think, man?” Gronsky muttered in a low, conspiratorial voice, nodding in the direction of Callaghan. “He’s part of Reid’s crew.”

She looked up, watching Pritchard’s face. He glanced down at her and then back up to Gronsky. Grinning furry teeth, he gave a wordless nod.

“All right.” Gronsky released her and dropped down on the ground, spreading his arms wide with flourish. “Sure. Why not?” We’re all brothers in here, right?” He moved over to Murphy and collected the keys off his body before turning to Callaghan, unlocking his restraints and freeing him from the bed.

Her heart beat so fast her chest actually ached. Callaghan rose to his full height, towering over Gronsky and looking so big and formidable that something inside her withered a little bit at the sight of him. If the other two inmates had wrought so much damage, what would he do? This man who was capable of so much more? Who exuded power and strength and menace His cold eyes fastened on Briar as he rubbed at his wrists where the cuffs had been.

“Go ahead, man.” Gronsky gestured to her, his manner deferential. “We’ll let you have first crack at her.” He laughed dumbly and fingered the scratches on his face. “I like them a little softer anyway. Maybe you’ll f*ck some of the fight outta her.”

With one hand still massaging his wrists, Knox leveled an empty stare at Gronsky.