Chapter 8
SOMETHING REALLY BAD
Lexi
My entire body froze at the sound. “What was that?” I screeched.
The guy released my panties with a grunt, and a tiny dark part of me was disappointed before I snapped some sense into my lusty pussy and tried to wriggle free of the gilded manacles. And what the hell was wrong with me, letting some stranger handcuff me to a wall?
His musky, expensive cologne lingered between us, dragging up memories I’d tried to bury. For once, I hadn’t been the terrified girl trapped in the passenger seat of a stranger’s car. Tonight, I’d been the one choosing.
As messed up as it sounded, for once, I hadn’t felt powerless.
“Fuck,” he gritted out. “I have to go.” He took a step back, and my body slumped forward the instant I was freed from the unyielding cage of his broad chest.
“Wait!” I shot back. “Get me out of these things.”
His dark brow arched, emerald irises gleaming, and a sinister grin curled the edges of his lips. “You sure you don’t want to continue this when I get back?”
“No, you asshole. I’m not letting you leave me here strung up against a wall where any psycho could take advantage of me.” Those dark memories surged to the surface, and I blinked quickly, chasing them away.
For a second, his expression softened, the hard set of his jaw, the thinned lips, the rage carved into his unfairly beautiful face vanished.
As if he’d read something within the depths of my eyes, the trauma I fought so hard to keep buried.
He crossed the space between us in one long stride and yanked the cuffs apart.
The metal bit into my flesh, and I barely repressed another squeal.
“You couldn’t have just used the keys?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know where they are, and I have to go.” He spun on his heel and darted out the door without another word or a single glance back.
I slumped back against the wall the moment he was gone, my lungs sagging.
What the hell, Lexi? Drawing in a deep breath to still my rioting pulse, I tugged at the hem of my dress and dragged it back down my exposed thighs.
Heat still simmered between my legs, and a flush of embarrassment coated my cheeks.
That jerk wasn’t wrong; I did like it. Why was my body so fucked up? How could I desire that darkness?
Shaking my head of the dismal thoughts, I forced my feet forward.
I had to find Cordelia and get the hell out of here.
I peered out into the hallway and readjusted my mask.
I definitely did not need anyone down here finding out who I was.
That would be a disastrous first impression.
Not only was the new girl poor, she was also a total slut getting gang-banged by a bunch of rich dickhead frat boys.
I snuck out into the corridor of silk curtains and searched the dimly lit space for the steps back up to the main level.
Damn, this place was a freaking maze. I turned down a few wrong paths, the moans still thick in the air.
Shit, had no one else heard that scream?
Or did they just not care? Hitting a dead end, I let out a frustrated huff.
“Damn it,” I hissed through clenched teeth.
I spun around, but a familiar deep voice stopped me mid stride. My breath hitched, recent memories of the masked frat boy’s hands on me flitting to the surface.
Then another male. The new voice sent ice splashing across the building embers in my core. Its cocky timber seeped through the cracks in the mahogany door and sent a wave of goosebumps cascading down my arms. The hair on the back of my neck rose, and just like that, I was paralyzed.
No. It couldn’t be him.
I hadn’t seen the man who had broken me, ruined me in that car on the highway for four long years. And why the hell would he be at some college frat party?
I was hallucinating, that had to be it.
Inching closer, I pressed my ear to the door.
“What the fuck, Bass?” Panic raised the male’s pitch a few decibels, except this wasn’t the first voice I’d heard, but it was definitely the voice of my masked assailant from the sex room. Or protector, in his deranged mind.
Then, faint whimpers and a strangled cry. A girl.
My heart catapulted against my ribs. I had to do something. If there was a woman in there getting raped... or worse... I couldn’t just stand here.
“It was an accident, bro.” Oh hell, that voice again.
Darkness seeped into the corners of my vision. The scent of cigars and scotch filled my nostrils as I descended into nightmares of the past. My stomach dropped, four years vanishing in an instant.
“She asked me to choke her!” he hissed. I forced my mind to focus on the present as my stomach churned, acid oozing up my throat.
More crying.
“Shut the fuck up, you little cunt.”
A slap and a choked sob reached my ears. Shit, I had to do something. My hand curled around the doorknob. If I opened that door, I might see something I’d never be able to forget. But could I look myself in the mirror ever again if I didn’t?
“Don’t take this out on the drunkass girl, Bass, this is your fault. You fucking killed her friend.” The last words were nothing but a whispered hiss.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Killed?
My blood went cold. My ribs laced around my lungs, squeezing until I couldn’t drag in another breath.
“Hey, what are you doing down there?” A voice echoed down the dark hall from the opposite direction.
My heart leapt up my throat and I ran. A big guy in a black mask stood at the end of the corridor blocking my way. I pumped my arms and tried to slip by him, but thick arms snaked around my body.
“Let go of me!” I cried and pummeled an iron chest.
His arms locked around my ribs, crushing the air from my lungs. Terror’s claws ripped into me, but I wouldn’t let it win. Fear was just a mental response to an outside stimulus. That’s what years of therapy had taught me.
I brought my knee back and rammed it between his legs.
“You little bitch!” the guy howled.
He released me to cup his now broken balls, and I darted past him into the main orgy room. Most of the masked attendees had dispersed, but a few couples still remained, groping each other in the darkness.
I zipped past them and scanned the murky room, praying to find those stairs. The lights suddenly flicked on, and I let out a cry of relief. There they were. My salvation lay just across the room.
“Everyone get the fuck out!” A voice boomed over the frenzy of my thundering heart. “The party is over.”
I hazarded a quick glance over my shoulder and met a familiar pair of green eyes burning through a black mask. Recognition flashed between us.
After an impossibly long moment, he finally released me from his dark glare. Just behind him, the guy I’d kneed in the balls staggered closer. Blowing out the breath I’d been holding, I sprinted across the room and raced up the stairs.
Upstairs, the party roared on like nothing had happened.
Like no one downstairs had just died. I wound through the dancefloor of writhing bodies, sweat drenching my clothes.
Screw Cordelia, I needed to get out of here now before someone spotted me.
The black and white tile blurred my vision as I wandered through the crowd.
Where was the damned exit in this place?
My head whirled from side to side, but I could barely make out anything over the sea of broad shoulders and glittering dresses. I weaved past a wobbling girl on sky high stilettos and smacked into a dark suit. I let out a grunt as unfamiliar fingers gripped my waist.
“Get your hands off me!” I screamed.
“Whoa, whoa. I’m sorry.” The stranger lifted his hands and grazed his Batman mask, tipping it up past his nose.
“… Micah?” My heart let out a sigh of relief. He pushed the ridiculous mask further up so it sat atop his head of blonde locks. I followed suit, revealing my face. “It’s me, Lexi.”
His warm hazel eyes widened as they took in my scandalous dress. “Damn, pre-med, you clean up well.”
Despite the chaos, a faint smile curled back the corners of my lips. “Thanks,” I mumbled, heart still a battering ram against my ribs. “And Batman, really?” He was the only idiot in here in a superhero mask.
“Well, Superman doesn’t have a mask, so this was the next best thing.”
I eyed him.
“You know, because Clark Kent is a reporter, and journalism is my passion. Does any of this ring a bell?”
“Oh, right, sorry. It’s been a night.” I drew in another steadying breath.
“Did I tell you I’m in the Stonewall University Journalism Club by the way?”
“Nope.” I scanned the room still searching for the exit. I needed to get the hell out of here.
Micah must have finally noticed the panic in my face because he stopped blathering on about journalism club and dipped his gaze to mine. “What’s wrong?”
I squeezed my hands into fists, indecision battling a war deep inside. I knew what the right thing to do was. I should call the cops and tell them exactly what I’d overheard. But from experience, I also knew what happened when rich people did bad things.
Absolutely nothing.
Despite the evidence.
“Did something happen?” Those warm eyes lanced right through me, and my throat tightened, all the fear from a few moments ago suddenly strangling. “Did someone hurt you?” His fingers laced through mine, and he dragged me through the remains of the crowd.
The moment we were outside, I sucked in a deep breath of untainted air.
My lungs expanded, and the suffocating feeling began to dissipate.
Micah led me down the flower-lined pathway and across the street.
He finally stopped in front of a navy BMW SUV.
With a click of the fob, the door unlocked and the engine started.
He opened the passenger side door and motioned me in. “Sit, tell me what’s going on.”
I chewed on my lower lip, my morals and common sense battling it out in my raging gut.
I didn’t know Micah, not really, but there was just something about him that made me want to trust him.
Something that told me I could. And, if I were being completely honest with myself, I also just really needed to talk to someone about what I’d just heard.
So, taking a deep breath, I looked him in the eyes and confessed, “I think something really bad happened tonight.”