The poker falls from my hand. The wind is knocked out of me, and I briefly see stars. My arm in its cast burns in agony.
He’s monstrously heavy on top of me, his arms binding mine, his breath hot in my ear. He croons, “No, my love. f**k you.”
He fumbles at his waist with one hand, unbuckling his belt.
I scream in frustration, kicking my legs, but he’s too strong to budge. The pistol was knocked off the desk onto the carpet, within arm’s reach if I could stretch, but my only working arm is pinned underneath me. I try frantically to wriggle it free, but Dimitri forces his forearm down against my neck, his hand gripping my shoulder in an iron vise, holding it in place.
I send a desperate glance to the doorway, but Stefan and the doctor are gone.
Dimitri wedges a leg between mine. The sou
