The Sinners of Saint Amos - Logan Fox Page 0,50

in like a fish.

Water hits my hands, then my arms. It’s not as hot as I’d thought, but it’s warmer than I like. I struggle furiously, but that makes the plastic ties cut into my wrists.

That shit hurts, so I stop.

I could vault the wall again, but what would that help? I saw Zachary lock the door. The key is in the pocket of his slacks and—

I peek around at the sound of a belt buckle. Zachary unhooks his belt. His penetrating green eyes catching mine when he looks up.

This is real. This is happening. They don’t give a fuck about the consequences.

My knees sag.

I’d have landed on my ass if Cassius hadn’t caught my elbow and steadied me. “Aw…You done fighting?” he asks. “I was enjoying that.”

“She knows it will be over sooner if she doesn’t resist,” Zachary says as he steps out of his shoes. He slips his shirt over the top of his head without bothering to undo the buttons.

There’s a tattoo on his chest.

A coiling serpent. Fangs bared, ready to strike.

Oh my fucking God.

He steps out of his pants, baring white cotton boxers as plain as my own underwear.

Reuben steps away, turns his back, and slips off his own shirt.

This isn’t happening.

I shriek into my gag and try to jerk free from Cassius. Pain slices through my wrists, and a tiny rivulet of blood races down my arm. Water hits it, turning it pink and then invisible in a flash.

Apollo hangs back. He’s still chuckling, but he seems content to stand back while they…

Wash me?

Shame bursts through me. My chest tightens painfully.

“You’re hurting her,” Reuben says.

My eyes fly back to him. I’d been watching Apollo, trying to plead with him. He doesn’t seem willing to participate, so it’s worth a shot, right?

But staring at him means I can’t keep an eye on the other three.

An arm slips around my chest. Cassius drags me against him and a hard length presses into the small of my back.

I don’t want to look, but I have to. Else how will I spot my chance at escape?

Zachary’s still smiling. I think it’s the first time I’ve ever seen him look anything other than dead serious. “Take off the gag. We don’t want to waterboard her.”

Expert fingers manipulate the buckle at the back of my neck. The belt slips loose before he plucks it away. I spit out my underwear and haul in a sweet breath.

Relief only lasts a second.

Cassius pushes me forward. Water cascades over my head.

Blinded by the water, with Cassius’s arm still securely around my waist, I don’t stand a chance.

I can dimly make out Zachary with his dark smudge of a tattoo. He grabs a bar of soap and lathers it in his hands as he moves closer.

Cassius shoves me forward. My bound hands stick out on instinct, slamming into Zachary’s chest. I puncture him with my nails, but he doesn’t even flinch.

While I’m still spitting water out of my mouth, he shoves his hands under my vest and starts washing me.

I gasp, twisting to try and get away from his hands. But they’re everywhere—my stomach, my breasts, my armpits, my back.

That’s when Reuben steps up to us. He’s easily an inch taller than Zachary, but he doesn’t push him aside. Instead, he grabs the back of my neck and my arm, holding me still for Zachary.

“Please,” I whisper, forcing myself to look at Zachary.

When we lock eyes, an electrical current surges through me. There’s no sympathy in his eyes. Not even a trace of pity. He’s enjoying this.

Is it my fear or my humiliation that gets him hard?

“You had your chance,” he says. “You could have been out of here this morning already.”

I open my mouth to tell him I’ll leave, but then Cassius turns off the shower. There’s a moment’s crystallized silence, broken only by the plink of a water drop hitting the wet tiles.

Zachary tilts his head a little, daring me to speak. When I say nothing, he slides a hand over my breast and squeezes.

Hard.

I suppress a gasp, and will my eyes to stay on his.

Begging did nothing. Neither did threatening to rat on them. But maybe showing them I still have a backbone will make them think twice about taking this too far.

Zachary’s eyes narrow.

He doesn’t like that I’m defying him.

Another hand grazes up the back of my vest, tracing my spine. I break out in goosebumps, my nipples going hard again.

Terror dulls into something else.

He was right—the less I struggle, the