“Please stop.” He wasn’t listening.
“I want you, Persephone. The fact you act so indifferent toward me makes me want you more.”
I turned my head. “For real, Trevor. Back up. Give me some breathing room.” I placed my hands on his chest and pushed with all my strength.
He only moved an inch before sinking back against me, his hands braced on the wall on either side of my head.
The party was right around the corner. So close but far enough away we were secluded in this corner of the house. It didn’t matter, anyway. Everyone was trashed. They didn’t give a shit about what was happening around them.
“No one ever plays hard to get.” His hand crept along my waist, and I pushed at him. “They give in, like I impress them because of who my father is and how much money I have.” His voice sounded even more slurred now. “But not you.” He was breathing so hard now. “You act like you couldn’t give two shits if I paid attention to you or not.”
Because I don’t.
I was suffocating, unable to breathe. All I smelled was alcohol and sweat. I felt disgusted with his sticky body pressed to mine.
The heat was oppressive, and I gave another shove against him.
But before I knew what was happening, he gripped my wrists and pressed them hard against the wall.
I was so shocked by the sudden act of violence, by the snarl on his face, that all I could do was stare up at him in shock and disbelief.
“You’re scaring me,” I whispered, hating that I allowed fear to take hold instead of anger.
And just like that, his anger vanished. That was when I knew without a doubt Trevor wasn’t who I thought he was.
Although I didn’t need to see his Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde act to know he wasn’t the easygoing—maybe even a little shy at times—guy I’d first met.
He clearly didn’t give a shit about my consent.
“Let me go. You’re hurting me, Trevor.” I tried a different tactic. Placating. Soft demeanor. His grip was unforgiving, and I knew there’d be bruises on my flesh.
“Just let me taste you,” he said as he started leaning in. But I had nowhere to go, not with the heavy weight of his body pressing into me.
“Get the fuck off,” I yelled, but the sound was drowned out by the heavy bass of music. I tried lifting my knee to kick him in the crotch, but I couldn’t get enough room to bring my leg up.
And then I heard this sudden commotion. Shouting and yelling. A deep, muffled voice, followed by vulgar swearing.
“Where is she, you little motherfuckers?”
My heart pounded, as the deep voice that roared out was familiar. I instantly felt relief.
There was a crash and a bang, which drew Trevor’s attention enough that he looked over his shoulder.
But he still kept his body pressed to mine, locking me in.
I turned my head, and just when I thought he’d kiss me, lick me, or do some other disgusting, forcible act, his body was suddenly wrenched away from me.
Hades had his hand around Trevor’s throat and had him pressed against the wall across from us. He towered over Trevor, like a massive redwood. All hard angles and roughness.
Hades was breathing heavily, his shoulders rising and falling, the violence and aggression barely contained. I could feel it swirling around him, slowly filling the hallway like poisonous gas.
“What did I tell you?” Hades’ voice was controlled. Contained. But I could hear the rage seething in the undertones. “I said if you touch her again, I’d break your hands.”
Faster than I expected, Hades slammed the back of Trevor’s hand against the wall. He howled in pain, but Hades didn’t care and clearly wasn’t done.
He reared his arm back, all that unleashed animal strength bubbling forth, and brought his knuckles to the center of Trevor’s face. The sound of bone crunching was so sickening that bile rose in my throat.
Trevor’s head whipped to the side so violently I couldn’t contain my gasp. There were a couple of people who congregated in the hallway’s opening, their mouths hanging open, their eyes wide.