3 Months Later

Cinnamon stood by her window gazing down at the sea. Moonbeams blushed the gentle tide, casting everything in its path silvery. She sighed. There was a time when she would have felt the sight enchanting, but not tonight. Her world had been completely turned upside down.

She heard the rampant echo of his pounding boots before he opened the door without knocking. She did not have to turn around. She knew exactly who the steps belonged to.

"Is it true?"

Changing her reflection from sorrow to strength, she turned and held Simcoe's glare. "It is obvious that you have just spoken with my grandfather. Major Hewlett is not known for deceit, so yes, every word of it is true."

Simcoe growled as he struck the wall, not flinching when his knuckles cracked on impact. He turned back to face her, leaving a splotch of blood on the white wall. "Your words, your tone, your brazen reflection; I see not a hint of remorse. You are a whore! A trader to the crown, yet you stand before me proud."

"Get out!"

Simcoe moved toward Cinnamon neglecting her order to leave. She lifted her chin, flaunting insolence, standing her ground.

"Did you like it? Did you like the feel of the rebel's cock inside you?"

Clenching her fingers to keep from striking his taunting face, she tried to sneak by him. "Let me go!" she hissed when he seized her arm.

In a low hissing voice, he slithered, "did Tallmadge make you cream, Cinnamon?"

"That is enough of your vulgarity! Now release me!" she demanded, struggling to free herself from his entrapment.

Twirling her to his chest, Simcoe backhanded her, catching her before she hit the floor, only to slap her a second time. She cried out, but knew help would not come. Her grandfather had left the premises, making it clear she was no longer a Hewlett.

Simcoe shoved Cinnamon to the bed. He tried to force her knees apart. She fought back like a little wildcat.

"It is my turn now!" Simcoe roared, prying her knees apart.

"You can rape me a dozen times, but you can never take what Ben already took!" She spat, flaying with her nails, blood seeping from her torn lips.

At her taunt, Simcoe's dark eyes grew murderous. He fell upon her in a rage, beating her cheeks from left to right. The echo of meaty blows mingled with her wails of agony. "Bitch, treasonous slut, treacherous cunt!" Simcoe cursed her with each assault.

Cinnamon's eyes rolled to the back of her head, her body limp. Blood drained a constant flow from her lips and nose. Listless, she watched half-lidded as her assailant hiked up her dress. Battered and weak, she laid beneath him, vulnerable, unable to stop his brutal hands. He crammed two fingers up her cunt, shoving deep. "I am going to fuck this pussy bloody and then afterwards, I shall bleed Tallmadge's memory from your womb!"

She shot up. WHAM! She shoved him backwards, causing him to crash into the floor. She scurried from the bed, trying to head for the exit. "Bitch!" He glowered, capturing her ankle. As he dragged her back to his rage, she managed to seize a fire poker and slash it upside his head. Simcoe hit the floor with a THUD.