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At first, I’m not sure what it is but a prickly sensation spreads down my spine. My gaze roves over the crowd in the room, searching for the source of my sudden discomfort.
That’s when I noticehim.
Senator Dumas is staring right back at me. He’s standing further away from the podium but his dark eyes are zeroed in on me. His gaze pins me to the spot, making it impossible for me to look away.
No man has looked at me this way since the time I’d been a captive in those hellish cages.
The senator’s gaze is hungry and demanding. Even from this distance, I can feel the intensity of his sick desires.
Dad continues speaking but it’s all an incoherent noise in the back of my head.
All my attention is focused on Senator Dumas.
A look of recognition settles into his eyes as he smirks at me.
He knows me, my mind whispers.He recognizes me.
My blood chills in my veins as I realize he could be one of the men who’d used me during my captivity.
Fear pounds through me, threatening to sweep me away in its throes.
What would happen if he says something to Dad? Would he expose my truth while Dad’s showing me off to his friends and colleagues so proudly?
I’m barely able to breathe anymore. Swallowing hard, I try to quell the painful choke in my throat. My body sways and the only reason I stay on my feet is because Dad’s arm is still supporting me.
“Rory, are you okay?” Dad’s voice whispers in my ear, breaking me out of my trance.
“What?”
Dad looks anxious. “Why have your hands gone so cold?” he asks.
I look back at the crowd. The music is back on and the guests have gone back to chattering and drinking. I search for Senator Dumas but I can’t find him anywhere.
“Rory?” Dad shakes my arm. “Rory, you’re scaring me. Are you okay?”
A stream of warm liquid flows down my thighs, reminding me of the mess Oliver left inside me. I never got the chance to clean myself up before Dad barged into the kitchen.
The sensation of the sticky, gooey liquid trickling against my skin reminds me of the state I used to be in after men like the senator were done with me. I can no longer stop my mind from sinking into the mire of dark memories that I’d locked away securely.
“Rory! Talk to me,” Dad says, shaking me.
“I’m fine,” I manage to blurt out. “I just need to get some air.”
Pushing him away, I hurry down the podium.
My gaze searches for my mates.
Seth is in a corner, talking to Mrs. Norman, while Simon and Oliver are locked in a competition of juggling beer bottles. A crowd has gathered around them and are cheering loudly.
My chest hurts. It’s becoming more and more difficult to draw in enough breath into my lungs. Feeling like I can’t stand being in the crowded room anymore, I walk away.
The noise of music and people’s conversation dulls when I reach the inner hallways of the house. I breathe easier but the tightness in my chest remains.
Wanting to get further away from the party, I take the stairs and go up to the second floor. None of the guests have ventured into these quiet, still corridors.
A trickle of relief flows through me as I eagerly hurry toward my room. It’s the only place I can take refuge until my panic recedes.
Reaching my room, I open the door.
