Page 10 of The Monster in Me


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I break off our connection, the heat of his gaze melting my insides and turning me to mush, as I turn and watch my sister walking away and disappearing into the crowd with Ace and that pretentious bitch Carrington. Immediately curious to find out where they’re going, I jump off the table but instead of landing drunkenly on the floor, I fall into the arms of the unsuspecting villain.

Immediately my body stiffens under his touch, the grip he has on my waist is the only thing keeping me from falling to the floor at his feet. I look up to face him, his head hung low as he watches me drunkenly trying to keep my balance in these heels. Inhaling a breath, I close my eyes to stop the room around me from spinning, taking in the scent of maleness and musk emanating from him. Mixed in with the smell of liquor and something sweet and sohim, it’s become my favorite scent. My body sways in his arms, his muscles contracting around me as my chest rises and falls against his. The tempo of the music slows, the harmonizing voice of an American Pop Star echoing against the walls, and suddenly I’m hypnotized by her vocals as she sings about getting undrunk and wishing she could unfuck her lover. Words have never bled more truth.

He holds my body close, refusing to let go as his hands roam over my waist, up my back and back down landing on my ass. I lean my head back, my neck rolling to the beat of the song as his lips come down on the exposed skin kissing it softly as he runs his tongue through the dip of my collarbone.

“Why go and follow them,” he blows a hot breath on the cleavage poking out between my breasts, “When you can be here with me doing this.” His tongue comes out to play, licking the beads of sweat sitting on the cleavage visible underneath my dress. His mouth softly sucks moving back up to my neck increasing both speed and intensity. I wouldn’t be surprised if I’m covered in hickies by the time he’s finished, but in my drunken state I can’t seem to give a fuck.

“Keep doing that and I won’t have to look elsewhere,” I whisper breathlessly, my voice fading into the beat of the music. As if distracted by my admission his grip on me loosens, giving me the opportunity to sneak out of his grasp. I walk backwards into the small crowd that was allowed into the VIP section of the club and he follows, his body straightening and a fierce animalistic smirk appearing in place of his earlier inanimate frown. Like a monster in the dark, he creeps forward, his steps mimicking the pounding beat of my heart.

Though my fun is cut short when out of the crowd around us, Kinsley fucking Carlyle, the venomous snake comes forth slithering her way between us blocking his path to me, again. I swear she’s like a parasite you can’t get rid of, like a virus threatening to infect. His eyes move from me to her, a look of confusion and equally as perturbed as I am, appearing within them as he watches her contort playfully before him, her blond hair twirled around her finger as her head bobs side to side. He stares between the two of us for a beat too long and I’m suddenly uninterested and unimpressed.

Turning toward the bar that’s set up in the VIP section, I squeeze my way through a pair of brunettes I don’t recognize, arriving at the bar and waving my hand in the air calling over the cute bartender who doesn’t look much older than the kids here. Instantly he spots me and heads over, a cute boy next door smile appearing on his handsome face. He looks oddly familiar but I can’t quite pinpoint it. Maybe I do know him from school after all.

“Well hey there beautiful, what can I get for ya?” he asks, his smile now a full grin as my eyes roam over him playfully checking him out. He notices and returns the favor, his eyes lingering a bit too long on my sweat glimmering cleavage.

I tilt my head slightly to the right, giving him my best come hither smile, “Well I’m awfully thirsty, what’s your specialty?” I ask, turning on the flirtatious charm I’ve been praised for in the past.

He follows my lead, playing into my game, “Well there is Sex on the Beach, the Leg Spreader, a Creamy Pussy, perhaps a Blow Job,” he says, the last one with a wink. Bold, I like it.

Though before I can reply, we’re interrupted by a loud growl in the distance. “Did you just ask my girl for a fucking blow job asshole?!” Sebastian shouts, reaching over and grabbing the sweet bartender by the neck, pulling him over the bar. The fear in the poor kid's eyes is evident as Sebastian practically strangles him, tugging on the bowtie around his neck.

The brunette’s beside us are quick to retreat making way for Sebastian to tighten his grip. “I didn’t, I’m sorry,” the bartender stammers, looking anxiously between us. This fucking asshole. “She said she was thirsty; I was just offering her some drinks.”

“Like hell you were! You’re fucking dead asshole!” Sebastian continues to shout out like a madman as the crowd around us starts to notice, spreading out and leaving us standing alone in a sea of drunk teenagers watching intently. Fuck this, I didn’t leave the comfort of my mundane life to come here and be the constant attraction.

“Let him fucking go Sebastian, you’re going to kill him,” I sneer, placing my hands on my hips irritated by his childish behavior. Someone has a short fuse, but I guess Sebastian is known to have a temper.

“That’s the plan baby girl,” he snarls, turning to me and winking before his murderous glare is back on the poor bartender. And that’s my cue, nothing I say or do is going to tame the beast so might as well leave while I can.

“Fine, whatever, you do what you want, I’m done. I’m getting out of here.” I shrug my shoulders giving the bartender my best apologetic smile before turning and heading toward the exit we came in through. I push through the hordes of teens glaring viciously at me, practically seeing the rabid foam in their mouths as I head down the stairs to the lower level and through the crowded dance floor. I know Sebastian’s probably released the poor bastard by now, not able to keep from following me down, but I don’t bother turning around to see if he’s behind me.

I manage to make it out the front door, the cold rush of the night like an ice-cold blanket covering my body in goosebumps. I step further out, leaning back on the railing of the front steps as my surroundings begin to spin uncontrollably. Fuck I didn’t think I was this drunk. The bright lights outside the hotel mixed in with the cold air must have fucked me up. I hear voices behind me but decide to ignore them as they approach closer. I start descending the stairs but stop when someone steps behind me.

“Damn beautiful you are fucking smoking,” says a crass, masculine voice as I sense someone behind me, “Where you off to in such a hurry gorgeous?”

“Fuck off,” I sneer, giving whoever he is the finger before stepping further down the steps and away from whoever the fuck this asshole is.

“Come on love, where are you off to so early, the party is just getting started,” says another, this time as a hand reaches out to grip my elbow. An alarm starts ringing in my head, blaring like a loud siren warning me of the impending danger that is too follow if I don’t get the fuck out of here. I grew up in a shitty neighborhood, I know the drill. Pretty girls like me out in the streets late at night dressed like this, these fuckers see me as fresh, easy meat. Well too bad for them they don’t know who they’re fucking with.

“I said fuck off asshole,” I shout as I manage to pull out of his grip. My footsteps quicken as I head toward the right hoping to run into another person closer to the parking lot. I curse myself for choosing to wear these fucking heels. Of course they looked hella fine with my outfit, my calves perfectly defined, and my ass looking so fucking good, but are they practical? No. And in this situation, coming where I come from I should have expected it.

I make it to the last step before I’m hauled up in the air, rough, calloused hands wrapped around my waist. His shoulders are broad, enveloping me in a coat of steel as I start to scream, kicking and waving my arms hoping to smack the fucker who’s dared put his hands on me, but his buddy is quick to stifle my screams with his burly hand.

“Shut the fuck up bitch, God I swear you blondes can be fucking mouthy,” he mutters, angrily. I turn to look at him, but don’t recognize him from school. He looks older, maybe in his early twenties, his hair cut short in aI just joined the military kind of way.I take in the large scar underneath his eyebrow and the dark brown of his eyes. Coming from the slums, putting to memory any unusual physical characteristics is essential in giving the cops a proper composite sketch.

“This is why I go for brunette’s Skeet,” the one behind me says, gaining himself a death glare fromSkeet.

His eyes turn dark with anger, his brows meeting in between his eyes as he glares behind me. “Shut the fuck up you bastard!” Skeet shouts, clearly upset that his friend gave up his identity.

“Sorry man, fuck. Let’s just take her, Kane will fucking love this one, I swear she already smells like sex.” I kick backward, hitting the asshole holding me right in his dick but his hold on me doesn’t loosen as he crouches forward.

“You fucking bitch, fuck. You kicked me,” the guy behind me groans.

Skeet moves closer to me, his hand moving to grip my hair and pulling my head back so my face is tilted up to him, my neck exposed as his eyes move to stare at the silky skin. “You should not have done that love, now you’re going to have to rub it and make it feel better.”

I spit getting Skeet right in the eye. “Fuck off asshole, let me go!” I wriggle and fight scratching and kicking but the burly dude behind me does not budge.

“How old are ya darling?” Skeet asks, as I continue to kick in his friend's arms. “Doesn’t matter, Kane likes them legal but maybe he’ll let us have some fun with this one first.” A revolting laugh leaves the asshole holding me.

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