Three
Aelissm thrashed awake, feeling his hands gripping her arms, smashing her breasts, digging into her thighs. Terror dragged icy fingertips over her skin, and she shuddered against the threatening promise that echoed in her head as she struggled to escape the nightmare. Her chest heaved, and cold sweat trickled down her spine. She felt his touch, but she shouldn’t be able to. Brent was dead. She hugged herself and rocked, trying to slow her thumping heart. It refused to obey and continued to pound erratically. The image of Brent’s apartment writhing in candlelight and shadow was imprinted vividly in her mind’s eye. That apartment—part of his attempt to make his own way without his parents’ money—had been more comfortable and welcoming to her than the Ellingtons’ opulent mansion… until
