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Seth pulls away from Alex, his eyes wide like a child’s and yet completely unfocused. “Yeah!” he shouts while punching his hands in the air. “Let’s go!”
“Okay, but we need to keep our voices down,” Alex whispers, pressing a finger against his lips. “This party will be outside.”
“Like a silent disco?”
Alex makes a face. “Sure.”
I watch Alex wrap an arm around Seth’s shoulders and guide him outside, happy to see that one big challenge has been resolved. Kinda. We still need to talk to Seth about his health and how he needs to take better care of himself, but we can handle that in the morning. Now, I need to make sure Lauren is okay.
“You take the downstairs and I’ll take the upstairs,” I say, earning a curt nod from Hunter.
I push through the crowds, looking at each and every one of their faces, yet none of them belong to Lauren. It would be great if she managed to make it home, but somehow, knowing Josh, I feel like that’s not the case. Memories of him pushing me onto the ground, grabbing my leg, refusing to let me leave, resurface. My heart slams in my chest. I feel like it’s happening all over again. I was able to get away. Will Lauren be so lucky?
I slowly take the steps, my brows furrowing when I hear some rummaging upstairs. It could be someone else, someone who lives here, yet somehow my hands feel clammy, my throat feels tight. I feel like I’m in some kind of horror movie, about to get stabbed in the back with a knife. My frown deepens when I make it to the top, seeing one door on my left, where all the noise is coming from. I hear something unzip and my hands slam against the door, throwing it open.
The room is dimly lit. Only the lamp on the nightstand is on. The bed is neatly made. The blankets are red. There are two pillows. Everything seems normal, except for Lauren, lying in the middle of it all, her eyes pressed close. Vomit drips from her lips. There’s a puddle of it on the ground, staining the white carpet green. That is definitely going to be a bitch to get out.
I’m trying not to look at Lauren, trying to focus on the carpet and not on the fact that her tights are pulled down around her ankles, caught on her stilettos. Her dress is pushed up, revealing pink undies. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Lauren in pink. Josh hovers above her, his belt undone, his pants slightly down and exposing the top part of his red boxers. He’s scowling at me, his hands still on his belt.
“What the fuck are you doing in here?”
“I could say the same about you,” I say venomously, keeping my body still. The door needs to remain open. If it closes, anyone who passes by won’t know what’s going on in this room.
Josh’s hands slide away from his belt and my heart stops as he steps toward me. My hand slams against the door. “I’ll scream,” I whisper.
Josh laughs. “Scream? And who will hear you? Everyone is drunk downstairs.”
“Why are you doing this?”
Josh rolls his eyes. “Typical Rachel. I’m not doing anything. She’s drunk. I put her to bed.”
“She’s your girlfriend.”
Josh’s eyes narrow. “Yeah, I know that. Which is why I brought her upstairs to take care of her.”
My gaze lowers to his pants, still displaying his boxers. They’re so red. They remind me of blood—of him banging my head into the table, of him bruising my wrists. “Then why are you taking off your pants,” I say while nodding at his belt.
Josh scoffs. “Because she got vomit on them. I was going to wash them.”
I purse my lips, wondering what I should do. Josh is right. If I scream, I don’t think anyone will come. The music is too loud. There’re too many people talking. No one will know if Josh does anything to Lauren, or to me.
I take a step back toward the hallway. “I don’t see any vomit, Josh,” I breathe, once again nodding to his pants. There isn’t even a stain. They’re so clean, they look new.
Josh follows my gaze, looking down at his black pants. He chuckles and shakes his head. “Well, what do you know,” he says, taking a step toward me. “She missed.”
He holds my stare. The only sound is the pounding of my heart in my ears and the subtle rock music wafting up from the floor below. I should leave and grab Hunter, drag him up here to help me. If I stay, who knows what Josh will do to me, but if I leave… he may do something terrible to Lauren.
What is the right choice? What should I do?
Josh chuckles, tilting his head as he takes another step toward me. “Rachel, this is all a misunderstanding. You know—”
I lunge for the hallway, deciding getting Hunter involved is better than resolving this on my own. He’s right downstairs. He or Mike can call the police. We can keep Josh here and make sure Lauren can get the help she needs. I hear footsteps behind me, but I ignore them. I’m nearly to the stairs. My foot reaches for the first step. I gasp, a hand coming over my mouth as I feel my hair being yanked back. My feet slip on the carpet and I’m falling, my eyes widening in alarm as I hit not the ground, but Josh behind me. I struggle, my elbows connecting with something. I try to scream, but his hand tights on my mouth.
“Shut the fuck up,” he whispers harshly as he stumbles to stand.
I continue struggling, knowing nothing good will happen if he gets me back inside that room. Faintly, I wonder why he is doing this. What terrible cruelty did he suffer as a child to decide to take it out on Lauren and me? Why do men like him harm women like us? My feet kick out, trying to stop him from dragging me back inside that room, but for someone his frame, he’s surprising strong. His grip is bruising.
I bite his palm and he releases my mouth with a, “You fucking bitch!”
