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When the door behind me pushes open, I don’t move to see who has walked in, instead slipping the compact back into my bag to make a swift exit, except when I glance up at the mirror triple checking my appearance, a man is standing behind me, a menacing smile on his face.
“Who are you?” I force my voice to remain even, despite the panic rising in my throat.
“Mr. Russo is disappointed that you quit the club.” The man’s voice is gravelly, and if it wasn’t for the smell radiating off him, that alone would have told me he smokes heavily. His black hair is receding at the front, and gray hairs litter the darkness. But it’s his eyes that scare me as I meet them in the mirror. Eyes so emotionless, so dead that if I believed in souls, this man didn’t have one.
“I was overextending myself with so many jobs,” I tell him. It’s not exactly a lie, because I was, but it’s not the reason I called Kyle the other day to tell him I wasn’t coming back. “I needed to focus on my studies,” I tack on the end.
“And I’m sure it has nothing to do with Saint James,” the man hisses and I cringe as his body steps closer to me, his stench rolling over me to the point my stomach clenches with the need to vomit.
My eyes dart to the door in the mirror, but before I can think to make a run for it, the man grabs hold of my waist, spinning me before pressing me back into the edge of the basin, the porcelain digging into me painfully. “Don’t even think about it, slut,” he hisses, his breath wafting across my face and I barely contain the gag retching in my throat.
“What do you want?” I ask evenly, despite the panic thundering through my chest.
“Mr. Russo has requested I bring you to him, but I’m sure he won’t object to me having a little fun first.” He smirks, his hand moving to the slit in my dress, and nausea rolls over me. His hands are rough as they push my dress up, grazing my skin and making every piece of flesh they touch feel dirty.
I squeeze my eyes closed, trying to calm my racing heart enough to execute my escape plan. I know enough self-defense I can disarm him, even as large as he is, for long enough to flee the bathroom and get back into the ballroom where I’ll be surrounded by people, where I’ll be safe. But to do that, I need to get my breathing under control, I need to have a level head.
“Open your eyes, bitch,” he growls a moment before his fingers grip my chin so hard I’m sure he’s going to leave bruises.
Except I don’t follow his command, if I did, the panic threatening to take over would do just that, and I would have no chance of getting out of this bathroom in one piece.
When his fingers tighten even further, a sense of calm envelops me and my eyes pop open to meet his.
“Good girl. I’ll make it feel so good for you, when I deliver you to Russo, you’ll be all ready for him.” The endearment sounds wrong coming from him. There’s only one man I want to be good for, and it sure as hell isn’t the piece of shit pawing at the hem of my dress, tearing the expensive fabric until the slit almost uncovers my bare pussy. Part of me idly worries Rayne will be mad that the first gift he’s ever given me is ruined, but something tells me he’ll be mad about everything else first.
“What’s this?” he rasps. “Your pussy is bare, just begging to be used.” His words make my stomach roll painfully, but it’s also the moment he moves in just the way I need for my plan to work.
Before his rough hands can brush across my sex, my knee connects with his balls so hard all the air in his lungs bursts out and without missing a beat, I run for the door, holding my dress in one hand to avoid tripping on it.
I almost reach the door when he slams me face first into the adjacent wall, his hand gripping the back of my neck and holding me painfully in place. “You little fucking bitch,” he hisses, his mouth against my ear as he presses himself into my back. Bile rises in my throat at the feeling of his hard cock pressing into my lower back, but I can’t afford to panic. Not yet at least. “You like it rough, is that it?” His free hand pushes up the back of my dress and for the first time since he came in, I allow myself to feel the panic that has been lying dormant. For the first time, hopelessness fills the void inside me. My only hope is someone walking through the door, and seeing as dinner was being served as I left, that doesn’t seem likely.
Hot tears roll down my cheeks, fear holding me down in a vise grip. I shouldn’t have left Rayne’s side. He told me I was in danger, and I didn’t listen. I thought he was exaggerating, that there was no way Russo gives a fuck about me. How wrong I was. A sob escapes my throat and I hate that this man can hear my weakness, that he knows violating me will break me.
“That’s it. Cry for me, you little cunt,” he rumbles as the sound of his zipper echoes off the tiles.
This is it. This is the moment that despite my fight, despite all my self-defense training, despite always walking to my car with my keys between my fingers and my hand on the pepper spray in my bag, this is the moment it’s all for nothing.
“I’m going to enjoy destroying this pussy. By the time Russo gets his hands on you, you’ll be all broken in, just like he likes them.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, begging myself to go to a safe place, to go anywhere so I don’t have to live through what’s about to happen to me. I’ve heard enough victim stories to know there is a safe place in your mind you can retreat to, so you don’t have to feel anything as a stranger violates your body, and I pray I can find that place before this asshole pushes inside my unwilling body.
Before I can find it, and before the man can get his dick out of his pants, a loud bang fills the expansive bathroom, and warm liquid coats my bare back, my hair and the wall in front of me.
Blood.
It’s everywhere. The crimson liquid drips down my skin, but I can’t move. I’m frozen in place, my entire body shaking with a mixture of fear and adrenaline.
A body presses against mine and an involuntary squeal leaves my throat.
“It’s okay, sweet girl. I’ve got you,” Rayne rasps, his voice coated in something I’ve never heard from him before. If I had to hazard a guess, fear. “I’ve got you.”
I allow myself to sink into his warmth, the terror I felt only a few moments ago evaporating as I give myself to Rayne, and trust him to keep me safe as I give into the darkness tugging at the edge of my vision.
20
Rayne
Ilook toward the hallway for what feels like the tenth time in the last five minutes. Emerson has been gone for too long, but I’m trying not to crowd her.
