Chapter Sixty Eight
Irene woke before sunrise. The throbbing pulse between her legs was persistent and needed tending to.
She had found her way back to the compound in the dark, had devoured a quart of water, washed herself as best she could and looked for something to cover her nudity. There wasn’t anything.
The men had taking her underwear, so naked, she slipped beneath the blankets next to Linda who slumbered fitfully; mumbling, her muscles twitching in troubled sleep. Irene shivered and relished the warmth that Linda’s skin offered.
The butcher’s twine still hung between her legs but daylight and a pair of manicure scissors would be the least painful way to deal with the last of it. Irene eased her eyes closed but that didn’t rid her of the image of Alex, limp and naked, hanging by
