"Help... please help me..."
The moment the tall, imposing figure stormed past the entryway and stepped into her line of sight, Bonnie's tears instantly spilled over.
"Quentin..."
"Quentin, save me..."
The second she saw him, every ounce of strength she had forced herself to maintain entirely collapsed.
Quentin cleared the distance to the bed in three massive strides.
When he saw her wrists and ankles brutally shackled to the heavy bedposts, the skin rubbed raw, red, and swollen, it felt as though an iron fist had violently crushed his heart.
Her dress was mostly intact, but the disgustingly degrading position instantly ignited the most catastrophic rage he had ever felt.
The veins in his forehead violently bulged. The look in his eyes was pure, unfiltered murder.
"Zachary, unlock them."
Quentin let out a guttural roar, radiating an apocalyptic fury.
Zachary panicked, stamping his feet in desperation.
"I told you, I don't have the damn key! These cuffs aren't mine!"
He whipped around to scream at the paralyzed attendant standing in the doorway. "What the hell are you staring at?! Go find a locksmith right now!"
The attendant practically fell over himself as he scrambled out the door.
Quentin dragged in a deep, agonizing breath, violently suppressing the explosive rage threatening to break him.
He grabbed the thin blanket from the edge of the bed and draped it over Bonnie, shielding her from further humiliation.
Then, leaning over, he used the pad of his thumb to gently wipe away the tears tracking down her face.
"Don't be afraid. I'm right here. It's over."
His voice was impossibly gentle, but beneath it, the violent trembling of his restraint was palpable.
"Water..."
Bonnie's parched throat clicked, her voice so destroyed it was barely a whisper.
"I'm so thirsty..."
Quentin immediately stood up, grabbed a sealed bottle of water from the nightstand, twisted the cap off, and carefully brought it to her lips.



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