Brooke held her breath, terrified he was going to do something else horrible to her when he walked over, but he didn't, he just uncuffed her and told her not to run away. She found herself nodding. Why, she didn't know. She wanted to run, more than anything, but she wouldn't, because he had told her not to.
Brooke fumbled with her panties, pulling them on as best she could. There was a hole between the elastic waistband and the lacy material where he had ripped it in getting them off, and her bra was beyond repare. The dress wasn't much better. The zipper was broken, but the crossover straps held it up well enough. She had no shoes, of course, but that was the least of her worries. Trying her best to look dignified, Brooke pushed herself to her feet. "Where are you taking me?" she asked, her voice still cracked and raw sounding from all the crying. She felt dirty - inside and out - and wanted nothing more than to just go back to her apartment and cry herself to sleep. Still, she doubted he'd let her get away that easily. He had said he'd see her in the morning, after all. That didn't sound like he had any intention of leaving her alone.