Letting My Brother's Best Friend Take My V-Card

CHAPTER 88

JESS

The bathroom was tiny-barely enough space to move around, let alone think

clearly. My heart pounded as I dragged the chair into the bathroom, the legs scraping against the tile floor. I pushed it beneath the door handle, wedging it against the bathtub. There wasn't a lot of room, but that worked in my favor. With the chair now jammed between the open easily.

But the door was flimsy, cheap wood that could easily be broken down if they really wanted to.

I knew I didn't have much time. My wrists were still bound together, the coarse rope digging into my skin, but I noticed the railing by the bathtub-a loose screw sticking out just enough. It might be able to cut through the rope if I could angle it right. I twisted my wrists against the

screw, feeling it scrape against the rope and, o my horror, my skin. I couldn't see behind my back, but I bit through the pain, focusing on the rope. It was slow, agonizing work, and my hands shook, but I had to keep going. I couldn't stop. I wouldn't let them get to me. Just as I started to make some progress, I heard the door to the room burst open, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps. My heart leaped into my throat as the men started cursing, their voices muffled by the bathroom door.

go?" one of them snarled, followed

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of something being thrown against the

to help you. You can trust me! Come on out;

charming guy who could talk his way out of anything until his mask faded and the monster beneath was looking

calm as Bryan kept talking. I could feel the blood run down my fingers, but I didn't care. There was a small window above the bathtub. Small enough for "I'm not gonna hurt you,

started banging on the door, hard enough to rattle the chair I'd wedged beneath the handle. My heart pounded in my ears as they continued to bang and curse, the door creaking under the pressure. It wouldn't hold for long. "Jess, open the door!" Bryan shouted, the sweetness in his voice gone, replaced by venom. "You're only making

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my wrists harder against the screw, feeling the rope start to give way fraying little by little. The banging grew louder, more desperate, and I knew I didn't have much time left. The

free, just a little more, and I'd be able to slip out of the ropes.

praying the door would hold just