"No!"

But Max kept tugging at her hair even when she was brought to her knees. He jerked her close. Her mouth was struck by the side of one filthy boot. Her lip cracked and she could taste blood. Linda shivered. This had been the most violent she'd seen Max. And now as she cringed beneath him, rolling up her eyes and staring at the beer-bellied trucker, she could see he had a lot more hostility stored up in him, ready to be unleashed on her at a moment's notice. That thought made the woman whimper, a sound that both infuriated and excited Max. It was going to be a long, exciting afternoon.

"What are you doing?"

Max had stripped every stitch of clothing off Linda's back, marching her to the bedroom while fishing out a set of handcuffs he always had hanging from his broad leather belt. At the bars he always told his buddies he kept them for any kinds of hoods he might find attacking old ladies. He and several of his cronies had started up a kind of vigilante group in the area, looking for punks hustling old women and kids. But now Linda saw another purpose for those cuffs as he hitched them to her wrists, pinning her arms behind hot.

"Shut up and move," he said, shoving her roughly between the shoulders.

The cold handcuffs felt strange against her hot flesh as Linda stumbled through the opened doorway into her bedroom. She glanced at the alarm clock resting to one side of the queen-sized bed. It was three o'clock. Janice would be coming home in several hours. No, she couldn't bring that subject up to Max. He'd mentioned her niece several times and said it might be fun if they could make it a three-way some night. No, she couldn't let her young ward fall into the same pit she had. Linda couldn't let Max get his filthy hands on her niece.