Page 11 of Knot Your Rebel

“Let me go.”

“No.” I should be afraid of him, but the shots have given me some depth of confidence. “I don’t think I will. In fact, I’d think by the way you’re dressed that you’re almost asking for it.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I seethe. Who the fuck does he think he is?

“You prissy little cunts who think you can walk around flashing all that skin like you’re offering yourself to us, and then you claim to not want it. But you do because why else would you wear something like this sexy little dress? Other than to tease men like me. To say, ‘hey, look at me,’ but not be available.”

“Fuck off,” I seethe.

He seems to think for a minute. “Nah, I think I’d rather fuck you, baby.” I cringe before he turns, his grip tightening on my wrist as he tries to drag me back to the bathroom. I try to plant my feet, grab onto a wall, anything, but my hands are clammy, and they slip off. He’s almost got me to the bathroom door, and a tinge of fear finally kicks in. That magical fight-or-flight mode. Since I can’t fly, it looks like I’m fighting.

When he stops to finagle the door open, I take my opportunity, raising my arm up, and biting the shit out of his wrist. He screeches in pain and releases me. My feet start moving without my brain saying a word. I’m almost down the hallway and into the bar before a hand wraps around my hair and yanks back, hard. I try to cry out, but I’m not sure anyone can hear me over the chatter and music. “Oh, you really are a stupid bitch, aren’t you? Now I’m going to make it hurt. We’ll see what you say when you can’t get away.”

My unease grows into downright discomfort. I’m holding onto my hair so it hurts less when he pulls. I’ve never liked the feeling. “You don’t want to do this.”

“Oh, but I do.” He sneers at me, and a tendril of fear winds through me, but I refuse to cower in front of him. I won’t let him see me vulnerable. My heart rate ratchets up, and my pulse is pounding in my ears. It’s a sobering experience; waiting for the worst to happen. Panic starts to claw at my insides, begging me to fight harder with every inch closer we step towards the bathroom. My lungs spasm, and I can’t breathe, an elephant's full weight lodges in my chest.

It’s toxic. He’s toxic. Fear spirals within me. Every time I inhale, it’s like sucking on chunks of glass, and with each suck, a shard sets deeper in my throat. Soon, I won’t be able to breathe around it, my lungs burning with the need for oxygen.

The pounding of my heart is louder now, as if someone is in there banging on the walls of my chest, speeding up without my permission. Dread turns to ice. I shouldn’t have been such a bitch, hell, I should’ve tried harder to fucking run. He pushes open the bathroom door and sneers at me over his shoulder on the way in.

“No!” I yell at him. I grab onto the door jam, trying again to plant myself, but he’s too strong. He pulls me in and slams the door behind me. This is it. This is what happens when you’re drunk and not paying attention. Scenes of my time at Eberly’s house flash before my eyes. It’s happening all over again.

My body is teetering on the edge. I feel like I’m going to pass out; fear so palpable I can taste it. He manhandles me up against the wall and puts his hand around my throat. “You’re not going to cooperate, so I’ll make this easy on myself. Look at this tight little body. I bet that pussy is just as good.”

It wraps harder around my throat, his fingers digging into the beating vein in my neck. His other hand starts to feel me up, starting at my neck and working his way down, lifting up the bottom of my dress. I want to tell him no again, but it comes out as a small puff of air. Bile forms as his hand finds the warmth between my legs. My head starts to feel woozy, white spots make their presence known behind my eyes, and I start to slowly lose consciousness. At least I won’t have to be awake when he violates me. I’m disgusted with myself for not fighting harder. But I’m quickly losing to the darkness as it sweeps in.

It’s tranquil in the space between reality and unconsciousness, realizing that life is no longer at the forefront. Now, I’ll just drift off. Let myself be free from this life that’s caused so much damage to me. It’s almost peaceful as it pulls me in like a siren in the night, whispering that it will be okay if I just close my eyes.

All of a sudden, his hand disappears from around my neck, and I’m gasping for air, grabbing for my neck. I can still feel his hand wrapped there. My view is warped, twisted. I blink a few times, but it’s hard to focus on anything. Two shadows move in front of me. The sound of skin hitting skin ricochets in the small space. Growls fill my ears as I slide down the wall and onto the floor. My hands come up to cover my ears. It’s too much; overwhelming. My breathing is rapid again as I pant. I feel like I’m going to vomit. I lean my head back. It’s him. The alpha from the pool table.

His lip is cut, and blood drips down his chin. His eyes are blown in anger as he pounds into my would-be assaulter. He gives him one more shove, and the guy falls to the ground. “Get the fuck out of here before I call the police, and if I so much as see you around her again, you’ll wish I’d just killed you instead.”

Mr. Tough Guy scrambles to his feet and glares at me before he hightails it out of the restroom. Not so big and bad now are you, you asshole.

The sound of my saviors breathing in the room is loud. I watch as blood drips from his knuckles onto the floor. He fades in and out of my vision. I think I’m going to pass out. My head spins. Warm hands grab my shoulders briefly before I let the darkness consume me.

five - tate

. . .

Mine.

The one word that comes to my mind when I lay eyes on her. Long blonde hair frames her face, full lips pout, and her eyes are dark, makeup hiding her pure beauty from the world. She’s wearing a stunning silver dress that exposes her long legs and her ample chest, baring her cleavage to whoever looks her way. I grit my teeth. She shouldn’t be showing that off. Well, to anyone except me.

I fist my hands at my sides, resisting the urge to go to her. To demand that she be mine. Patience, I remind myself. I’ve never had such a visceral reaction to a woman. I haven’t even kissed her yet, but she’s it… or she will be soon enough.

My eyes stalk her like I physically want to. She comes with her friend, a tall, skinny brunette who’s not half as attractive as my star. They start off with eight shots. She inhales her four, and with each drink, she gets more free, more touchy. Her smile isn’t held back as much. I imagine the alcohol taking over her body, caressing each spot it travels, leaving a warmth in its wake. A little while later, I watch her excuse herself from the table and head towards the bathrooms.

I’m tempted to follow her, stake my claim, but again, I remain still. “Dude… what the fuck is wrong with you?” Lex laughs, and I find him staring at me. The cocky little bastard has his typical egotistical smirk plastered across his face.

“Oh, fuck off.” I wave my hand at him like he means nothing to me.

Movement out of the corner of my eye catches my attention. One of the alphas who’s been watching her since she got here stalks off. I know his intentions. I probably have the same ones, but the difference is that I have a modicum of self-fucking-control.

My feet are moving before I even realize what’s happening. Making insignificant conversation with a female at the end of the bar, I watch him stalk towards the ladies room. He leans up against the wall, arms crossed on his chest. A smug grin baring off-color teeth.

Disgusting.

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