I shove my way through the crowd, feeling my lovely glittering pink dress catch on the belts and buttons of the people that I pass by.
“Hey baby, you wanna come and dance over here?” A deep voice calls from my right.
A large, sweaty hand drags over my belly and then my arm, grabbing for my hand. I jump away with a screech, nearly falling headlong onto the floor below me.
“Now, don’t be like that. I just want a little time alone with you and that ass,” the voice says, laughing.
I feel myself grow nauseous. I’ve never been so terrified in my entire life. I only wish that I had stayed with my friends.
How am I going to get away from this man?
I’m alone.
“Yeah,” joins another disgusting voice to the fold, and I feel someone’s hand brush my breast with their fingers. “We just want a taste of you, sweetheart, come on now. I love a curvy woman under my hands. Damn, you’re so sexy, girl.”
Of course, I only attract the weirdos.
I think longingly of Grey, and I wish I was in his arms, safe with him and in his embrace. But these are the kind of men that want me, not beautiful men like Grey Kingston.
I can see their awful faces in the neon lights that flash across their sweat-drenched skin.
All of them are shadows in the dark, their pale eyes hungry-looking, cornering me in the dark. No one is around to see, and if they were close enough to tell, they wouldn’t pay enough attention to care about me.
Another man pushes himself off the wall, flicking the butt of his spent cigarette away from him and onto the tiled floor. He grins at me maliciously, showing dingy yellowed teeth as the bright neon lights scatter in a wild flash over his ugly, unshaven face.
“Stop it!” I cry out, trying to move away from all of them without much success. “Leave me alone! Get away from me, you assholes!”
They follow me with measured steps, backing me firmly against the brick wall behind me where two people are kissing deeply and groping each other under their clothes, unaware and uncaring of anything else.
I feel a sweaty hand grab my naked thigh, and I suddenly remember the self-defense class my mom made us both take after my aunt was mugged when I was thirteen years old.
I shove the hard edge of my knee into one man’s groin with all the force of my terror. He howls in pain from the blow, stumbling back with a hand on his crotch.
One of the other men looks back at his friend that I had hit, and then another man lunges forward at me, looking completely murderous and hellbent on revenge.
I think for a moment before I bring the heel of my palm up clumsily, but the force of it seems to be enough, and the blow sends blood spurting from the man’s nose.
I nearly fall back as the man lets out a yell.
I heard the crack of the bone, and I feel a small sort of satisfaction at the move.
The second man falls away from me in pain, and I think for a moment that I might be able to escape into the crowd of people still dancing around me. The last man, the first one who grabbed me, shoves me roughly against the wall and paws at me with his hands, bringing my hair up to his nose to smell, writhing against me.
I move and scramble, clawing and screeching, and then suddenly, the man is forcefully yanked away from me.
I feel myself shaking as I fall back against the wall, and there, in front of me like some Greek god, Grey Kingston stands with his fist clenched at his sides.
He kicks the man he threw down at his feet savagely and without restraint.
“Leave before it’s too late,” he growls. “No, actually, apologize.”
“I’m not…,” one of the men begins in a whimpering little voice.
“Apologize to her before I fucking make you,” Grey says in that deep voice.
I hear a few of the men mutter a few whispers of sorry and fuck off, man as they limp away from us, but I don’t care either way. I’m too in my own head to care.
I can’t help but curl into myself and begin to shake violently.
Grey is golden and beautiful in the lights as he moves to me slowly, like I’m a wild thing cornered, waiting to strike at him.
His eyes are like spring grass, growing wild and warm.
“Hey,” he says, his voice gentle. He’s so soft in his approach that it startles me for a moment. “Hey, hey, it’s alright. I’m right here, Rosie, you’re alright.”
I all but throw myself into his arms, the only safe place in this cruel world.
He’s warm against me, and he pats my back gently, rubbing smooth circles over my exposed skin. He pulls back to look at me, worry coloring those handsome features. He’s so damn good-looking, and he feels like home right at this moment. His green eyes are dark, and his white shirt is unbuttoned again, but only halfway, giving me a tempting look at his chest.