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smiled, keeping my head down. So this was how he wanted it, was it? He wanted to control this fantasy. Fine, I’d let him, but he’d better be good!
    At the alley entrance, I rested my hand on the brick and made to turn around, to give him that little mewl of fright, but a hand clamped over my mouth before I had the chance. I was jerked backwards against a very male chest and held tight by a strong, thick arm across my belly. I lost purchase in my damn heels and stumbled. I bit back a squeal, my hands flailing as I instinctually fought for balance even though Jacob was holding me steady.
    “Down here,” a voice said.
    A voice that wasn’t Jacob’s.
    Oh, shit. No, this couldn’t be happening. Not for real.
    Bone-cold terror coursed through my veins, turning my blood to ice. I lashed out, arms flapping, raising them in order to smack the bastard and cause him pain, make him lose his grip. He held me tighter. I jabbed my arse back, hoping to catch him in the groin where it would hurt the most, but my efforts were wasted.
    Oh, God. Where the fucking hell is Jacob?
    I struggled, fighting to break free, trying to scream and failing. That hand prevented any sound escaping. Shunted down the alley, the man’s hold firm and growing stronger, I frantically brought my hands up with the intent of scratching his face or gouging at his eyes. More footsteps sounded, sure, quick strides; loud taps that struck the alley floor in time with my heartbeat. Flashes of the men at the bar whipped through my mind, and I imprinted them there for when I would need to recall them for the police. It had to be them. At least the man who had stared the most.
    My wrists were caught in front of me by another set of hands.
    Fuck. Are they all here?
    My knees weakened, unable to give my legs the strength to hold me upright, and, weirdly, the thought of those young women with alcohol-heavy legs sprang to mind. Why the hell did that come into my head when I was…when I was being…?
    I was roughly carried further down the alley into the dark shadows beyond. The smell of weathered brick didn’t seem as delicious as it had a few hours ago when we’d checked out our locations. It was ugly, searing the inside of my nostrils, and a smell I’d never forget; branded in my mind as a memory I’d rather not have.
    How quickly fate could change the best-laid plans. And to think this had all been for some dirty kink. Now the truly awful crime was about to be inflicted upon me. How foolish and naïve we’d been. Having a fantasy about it was one thing, but having it happen for real was an entirely different ballgame.
    The man holding my face and body let go, and I grabbed a breath in order to scream. Whoever held my wrists had better get ready to run, because I wasn’t being taken against my will like this.
    Wriggling, I faced the looming silhouette, who drew my arms down and held my wrists in one hand. Before the scream could emerge, he steered me towards the wall of a building so fast my mind couldn’t keep up. He slammed me against the brick, and the air I would have used to scream gusted out of my mouth. I snatched another breath, ready to try again, but he pressed his palm over my lips. I couldn’t see him—the darkness was absolute and the sound of receding footsteps made me glance to the alley opening.
    A man disappeared around the corner onto the street, leaving me trapped with some bastard who was squeezing my wrists rhythmically and was breathing too heavy. Had those men in the pub got hold of Jacob? Thoughts for my own safety fled, replaced by fear that my husband was being beaten up by thugs.
    One of them was here, pressing himself against me, one knee prising my legs apart. Fuck, no. He wasn’t touching me like that. Who did he think he was?
    I bucked, jerking ineffectively against his hold. He was too strong, too fucking strong, but I’d keep fighting, keep trying to get him off me if it was the last thing I did.
    “You like this, bitch? Eh?