“Kylie,” the shrill, yet familiar voice of her best friend Heather shrieks.

Shit. She found her.

“Kylie Reynolds, get your ass over here now. I see you behind the pillar.”

Damn.

“Hold on a sec, I’ll be right out.”

Kylie takes a deep breath, letting out an annoyed exasperated sigh before packing up her pink army backpack. She chose the library as her safe study space because Heather rarely ventures to this part of campus, but not today. The girl is a disaster when it comes to studying, not that she needs to, after all. Her friend has a natural affinity to retaining information with the least amount of effort. Lucky bitch.

Kylie has a great relationship with Heather, enjoying her company most of the time, but on days like this, she really wants to strangle her.

Heather came into her life by means of Starbucks, because coffee was the life blood that helped her get through many nights of studying. During one of Kylie’s visits to the coffee shop, she encountered an irate patron who knocked his drink on them both, ruining their shirts. Instead of apologizing, the man pushed her out of the way causing the spunky and crazy Heather to tear the guy a new one for his asshole behavior. After that bonding experience, they became fast friends.

She smiles at the memory while bending over to pick up the pens she dropped.

Complete opposites in the beauty department, Kylie rocks a simple short dark brown bob hairstyle and had sapphire blue eyes with one freckle right above her left eyebrow. Kylie hates her hair because it is flat and dull—like her personality. Heather, with her honey colored, curly locks, and, hazel eyes, is always the life of the party, her confidence attracting men and women alike. Kylie’s temperament is nothing like this, so her meeting Heather was a good thing because the girl helps her grow as a person, bringing her out of her boring shell on occasion. In fact, she usually welcomes it because when she did let loose with her friend, they had loads of fun. Unfortunately, though, on a day like this one, she really needed to study and Heather’s antics are not wanted.

“Get your ass over here already,” Heather demands, briskly motioning with her hands for Kylie to hurry the hell up. Heather receives a death glare from a student sitting in the desk next to Kylie, but she rolls her eyes and continues to make noise. Kylie inwardly cringes as the librarian stalks toward the commotion, but her rambunctious friend shows no fear.

“Miss, you have to be quiet. This is a library,” Mr. Phelps, their older, and extremely annoyed librarian says, scowling with his hands on his hips.

“Hold your horses, dude. I’m leaving with my friend here, shortly.” Heather motions to her again, while frowning at Mr. Phelps.

“Silence,” he grumbles, glaring at her and then placing his index finger over his lips in a shushing gesture. She’d never seen him look so pissed, but then again, Heather brings out the worst in people when she wants something.

“Hurry up, Kylie,” Heather gripes. “I’m getting weird stares from the other nerds here.”

Kylie gives an apologetic look to her former seatmate, who has now focused her death glare in her direction. She makes a mental note to give what’s her name a free cup of coffee the next time she sees her on campus. Inwardly groaning, she scampers toward Heather, tripping over a bag and almost falling face first onto the floor. Balancing herself on the pillar that caught her fall, she regains her equilibrium and sheepishly peers up. She glowers as she catches Heather covering her mouth in a poor attempt to hold back her snicker.

“Quiet,” she whispers, completely righting herself. “Some of these people are trying to study for exams.” Like I want to.

Heather holds her hands up in surrender, biting her lip in a continuous effort to suppress a chuckle. “Oh, relax, K,” Heather says, the mirth evident in her tone. “I came to get you so we could head to this new bar that I’ve heard rave reviews about, plus … Here it comes …“my favorite band is there for one night only, so we should totally go.”

Clenching her jaw, Kylie takes a moment to respond, wondering if this girl has ever really studied hard a day in her life and for that matter, party like a maniac and still pass.

“You know I can’t,” she grinds out through gritted teeth. Heather knows all too well that she has an essay due and a make-up exam to study for. God that exam. Heather aced it, but Kylie failed miserably. Heather was supposed to be her study buddy, but once again, Heather had gotten blackout drunk the night before and vanished for the day, not helping her at all when she resurfaced. There is no way she could take the chance of failing again, so a night off is not possible.

She’s doing it again. Kylie thinks to herself as Heather wiggles her eyebrows while smirking in a pointless attempt to make her laugh.

“Heather …” she groans while rubbing her temples with her fingers in a circular motion. She shakes her head for a moment and proceeds to walk outside the front door of the library with Heather close in tow.

“Sure you can,” Heather responds, bouncing her head from side to side. She usually does this routine when she wants to convince her to do something. Kylie thinks it's weird, but just chalks it up to Heather being Heather.

‘C’mon, K,” she whines. Heather jumps in front, causing Kylie to come to a full stop. Wonderful.

“Get out of the way.” Kylie grabs Heather’s shoulders, gently steering her to the left, she walks around her, and continues toward the dorm. Heather jogs to catch up to her.

“Please, K.” She places her hand on Kylie’s shoulder forcing her to halt. “I promise to help you with your exam, but you do have an extra day to study so no need to worry as much.”

“Bu—“

“And,” Heather interrupts her, “as far as the story goes, use this outing for research because bars will give you great material.”

“I said no.”

Kylie turns around and glares at Heather, who returns her stare with equal fervor. The standoff continues for another thirty seconds until Heather relents, choosing instead to step away and cross her arms.

“Fine. I guess I have to use my last lifeline for this one.”

Kylie’s eyes widen. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would,” Heather replies, nodding slowly while grinning. Well fuck.

Almost a year ago, she was the one out of control at some party. She doesn’t even know how much alcohol she consumed that night, but she was so drunk that she could barely stand. Her decision-making skills were definitely off because she thought it was a great idea to agree to go to some random guy’s apartment and ‘watch an indie flick’. As she and the guy were about to leave the party, a pair of hands yanked her back and smacked the hell out of her. Kylie was about to go in attack mode until she turned around and realized it was Heather. The random guy, Joe (she later found out his name), tried to intervene and Heather, being the spitfire that she was, punched him in the face and possibly broke his nose. Kylie doesn’t remember much after that point because she passed out and woke up with a bad hangover the next day. Heather was so pissed at her. Heather explained that Joe was the campus sleaze ball and known for not understanding the word “no” and said that for “saving her ass” Kylie owed her three random acts she couldn’t refuse.

The first, Heather used for a weekend in Atlantic City. Heather wanted to see a one night only performance of a comedian named Louie something. The second was for an impromptu beach trip because Heather thought it was a beautiful day. And now, Heather wanted to use her last one today.

Life is not fair.

“Please, don’t use that,” Kylie begs. Perhaps she can appeal to her friend’s good side, but she has a feeling it’s a lost cause.

“Sorry babe, I’m calling in a lifeline,” Heather replies in a singsong response. She bounces her head from side to side again to add to the effect.

Kylie sighs. “I’m never going to win with you, am I?”

A toothy grin spreads across Heather’s face. “Nope.”

“Okay fine, but you will have to help me this time… I mean really help me.”

“Sure, chica,” she responds promptly, giving her a light hip bump. “You know you’re my girl.”

Kylie opens her mouth to say more, but quickly closes it, choosing to head back toward the dorm instead. She really does care for Heather, but her antics can be maddening at times.

As Kylie reaches the front of the building, she uses her key to enter and utters, “What time do we have to leave?” After entering, she presses the elevator call button.

“You have two hours to make yourself pretty.”

The elevator quickly reaches them and they both hurry on, Heather pressing both their respective floors upon entry. When it arrives on the third floor Heather exits, shouting, “I’ll meet you at the front of the dorm by seven.”

As the elevator shuts, Kylie begins to bang her head against the closed door and groans. This is going to be a long night.

* * *

They have been at Rusty’s Bar and Grill since 8:00p.m. and Kylie is getting restless. The band was supposed to start by now, but due to an ‘equipment issue’ the start time is delayed. Kylie excused herself from the bar a few minutes earlier to allow Heather a moment to flirt with some random guy, but really she just needed a minute to herself. She has been jumpy all night and knows she should relax. The problem is that her impending academic situation has her mind going crazy. So bonkers in fact that she is currently pacing back and forth near the restroom trying in vain to figure out how the hell she let Heather talk her into yet another distraction.

Such a pushover, Kylie thinks to herself, while stalking back to her seat. She eyes Heather on the other side of the bar and groans when she notices the two empty beers sitting on the bar and sees Heather reaching for a third. How does she drink so damn fast?

Geez and she’s doing that thing that again …

For some reason, when Heather flips her hair back with her right hand and giggles, guys fall into her snare, wishing they are the ones who have her attention. A quick glance around the area and she notices other men staring. She eats up the attention and adds a bashful smirk for good measure.

Kylie shakes her head and smiles, somewhat wishing she could do the same thing, but her shy nature won’t allow her to take that chance. Besides, studying is her modus operandi until she graduates in a few months and then maybe …

She sighs at the thought, deciding to return to the bar next to Heather and try to have some semblance of fun.

During her trek back, Kylie surveys the other clientele in the establishment, and for the first time, she realizes just how strange this place actually is. At one table she sees a couple clearly making out hard core, and instead of being disgusted, or even slightly weirded out, there are several other people watching them. The woman is dressed in a tight V-neck green top with a black mini skirt and thigh high boots. The man looks college-aged and is wearing a navy polo shirt and khaki cargo shorts; his chin length auburn hair is slick with sweat. She wants to look away, but is memorized by the boldness of the woman.  Ignoring the restless crowd around her, she stops in her tracks and continues to watch the couple’s interaction. The redhead slides her chair over closer to the man smiling, reaching her hand out to caress his face. The man in turn leans into it, staring into her eyes dreamily, the loud noises of the bar not distracting him at all. In a flash, the woman turns her head and glances at Kylie, studying her. The startling nature of her stare causes Kylie to take a cautious step back, the woman grinning at this action. She goes into a full-blown smile as her eyes quickly flash violet. Biting her lip as if she’s deciding something, she continues to smirks. After a beat passes, she nods, turning her attention back to the man and pulling him into a deep kiss. Despite the strangeness of this situation, Kylie still can’t look away, her heart palpitating at the increased sexual vibes this hot make out session is giving off. She tries in vain to focus her attention elsewhere, but there is just something about this couple that makes it impossible. Why can’t I stop? she thinks to herself as her body begins to heat.

The spell is broken abruptly when the flash of a lighter illuminates an extremely tall hulking figure with dark hair standing in the corner of the bar. Squinting, she tries to focus on more of his features, but the combination of smoke and the lighting causes some of his attributes to be hidden. What she does notice is his sinister smile, and it makes her tense and uneasy. Kylie quickly looks away, nervously scanning the room for her friend. When she finally spots her, she rushes over, reclaiming her seat at the bar, the whole time feeling like a set of eyes are watching her every move.

As Kylie tries to relax against the stool, Heather shouts over the sound of the band that is now warming up, “What took you so long?” Kylie doesn’t answer, her thoughts instead going to what she just saw and how nervous it made her feel. She keeps her eyes focused forward because if Heather saw the expression on her face, she might pick up on her current mood.

“I thought I was going to have to rescue you from Mr. Clean,” Heather utters, patting her on the back while chuckling.

“Mr. Clean?” Kylie mutters absently, her tone low but somehow loud enough for Heather to hear her over the noise.

“Umm, yeah. You know the bald man who dances with the mop while cleaning.” Heather swivels her hips and continues to laugh, but Kylie barely pays attention.

Heather’s laughing abruptly stops and Kylie feels her eyes burrowing into her. She tries to hide her anxiousness, but her trembling hands are a dead giveaway.

“Are you okay?” She asks her, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “You look tense.”

 Kylie keeps her eyes trained forward, hoping Heather will drop this line of questioning soon.

“Yes, I’m fine. I just …” She shakes her head side to side, wiping the uneasy thoughts from her mind. “Never mind.”

Her eyes drift to Heather, who based on her facial expression, is clearly annoyed with the response she gave her. Heather appears as if she wants to say more, but instead she lets out an exasperated breath and shrugs her shoulders.

“Okay, well the band starts in five minutes so put your happy face on.” Heather nudges her shoulder in the hopes of eliciting a smile.

“Come on, Kylie Reynolds, do you want me to tickle the smile out of you?” Heather wiggles her fingers in the direction of Kylie’s stomach causing her to flinch, and a giggle to escapes her lips.

“That’s better. Now have a drink with me.”

“Okay,” Kylie agrees, reaching out to intercept the beer Heather hands her. “I drank some but you can have the rest.  I’ll order another.” Heather signals the bartender while Kylie takes a huge gulp of the beer, hoping it will calm her nerves.

“By the way, I got rid of that guy because this is our night, so we don’t need a third wheel.”

Thank God, she inwardly rejoices, but outwardly she calmly nods, taking another smaller sip of her drink.

“So what time do you think they’ll be done?”

Taking her own swig of her beer Heather replies, “I don’t know, probably midnight.”

Kylie's thoughts go back to her studies as Heather uses the words probably and midnight in conjunction with each other because that usually meant that they’ll be out longer than she initially thought. Kylie’s belief rings true when she sees Heather smiling … no … beaming, as the bottle hits her lips. This can’t be good.

“Why are you grinning?” Her hand tightens around the bottle, so she sets it down on the bar to prevent herself from breaking it … as if she was strong enough.

She is startled when Heather jumps off the stool and grabs both of her shoulders, still smiling huge. Heather not so gently shakes her back and forth, causing her head to bobble a bit and exclaims, “I. Got. Backstage. Passes. Can you believe it?”  Heather lets go of her and twirls in a circle like an unpracticed ballerina on steroids.

“I love RAGE and can’t wait to meet them. That lead singer is H-O-T.” Heather bites her lips. “Hope I get to mount that.”

Seriously this girl …

Kylie’s body stiffens in response and she gets the sinking feeling that Heather has plans for the both of them to see the sunrise instead of going home at a reasonable time. Is she fucking serious?

Covering her eyes while rubbing her temples again, she contemplates a response but the words get stuck in her throat.

When she uncovers her eyes, she notices Heather’s eager expression and she knows what’s coming next.

“Relax, it will be fun. Besides, I called a lifeline, so you can’t say no anyway.”

“Heather …” she groans, her shoulders dropping in defeat.

“I promise we won’t stay too long,” Heather assures. “Look at it this way; it’s my last one, so you won’t ever have to do anything like this under duress again. I mean, heaven forbid you actually want to hang out with me.” Crossing her arms across her chest, Heather takes her seat at the bar and ends her part of the conversation there.

She really knows how to bring out the big guns, Kylie thinks, wincing at Heather’s last comment.

A brief bout of silence passes between the two, but Kylie is the first to crack.

“Fine,” she huffs. “I must be a glutton for punishment for agreeing to this,” Kylie mutters.

Heather’s eyes brighten as she pulls her into a tight hug, and then releases her. Smirking, she replies, “Nope. It’s because you love me. Plus, I’m your only friend, so …” She is impossible.

“Seriously, though, thanks, Kylie. I know I can be a pain in the ass sometimes.” She gives Heather a pointed look. “Okay, most times, but I only want to get you out there. You can’t stay cooped up in your room forever surrounded by books. You need to experience life, and this is me showing you one little piece at a time … even if I have to force it on you every once in a while.”

“You know you don’t have to force it on me dummy, but maybe pick better days if you can help it.” They both grin at each other and embrace again, the moment causing all the tension she felt earlier to dissipate even more, allowing her to continue with their night worry free.

The band finally starts playing, and to Kylie’s surprise, they’re pretty good. She actually knows some of the songs and happily sings along.

“This is great,” she yells into Heather’s ear, while swaying her hips to the beat of the band’s newest tune. “Told ya so, babe.” Heather places her arm around Kylie’s neck, pulling her into a half hug as they continue dancing until the last song ends. She eyes her watch, noticing that it is now midnight, and oddly enough she isn’t as upset about it as she was earlier. Since school is nearing the end for both of them, who knows how often they’ll get the chance to spend more time together. They haven’t really discussed their after-graduation plans that much, even if they will be living in the same state.

Kylie points to her crotch and does a little dance. To some, it would be weird, but Heather knows it is their made up universal sign of having to pee, so she grins at her and nods.

“I’ll go and check on the backstage thing while you handle your business.” Heather waves at her and then trudges in the direction of the band who are currently breaking down their set-up. She waves back and goes in the opposite direction, feeling great about the night they just experienced.

Kylie heads down the strangely empty hall toward the restroom, constantly looking over her shoulder, the earlier uneasiness starting to rear its head in the pit of her stomach again. “Get a hold of yourself Kylie,” she says to herself while pushing the bathroom door open. Feeling hot, she takes off her sweater and hangs it on the stall hook. She then handles her business and goes to the sink, quickly washing her hands.

Heather bursts into the bathroom, startling Kylie. She knocks her purse over and the contents spill in the sink. “Geez Heather, you really need to work on your entrances because you scared the crap out of me.” She removes her fallen items from the sink, places them in her purse and then focuses her attention back to Heather.

“Sorry about that, but I do have some good news and bad news.” Kylie tries to decipher Heather’s blank expression but comes up with nothing. “Which do you want first?” Heather asks, still keeping her expression plain.

Kylie hesitates, wondering what this girl is hiding up her sleeve because her friend can run hot and cold. They’ve had a great night so far and hopefully her occasionally nutty personality won’t ruin it.

“I’ll take the bad news.”

“The band cancelled their backstage meet and greet.”

“And this is bad how?” She utters, feeling a pang of relief in her chest. She doesn’t want to sound too excited about the prospect of getting out of this place because she did have fun, but it was definitely time to call it a night.

“Err … I mean, that sucks. Well, I guess we should head out.” Kylie turns to go and get her sweater from the stall, but is stopped when Heather grips her by the shoulder.

“Hold on a second. I didn’t tell you the good news.”

Heather’s face suddenly brightens and a smile slowly forms, this however, has an opposite effect on her.

“We got invited to Club Blaze!” Heather’s screams echoes in the empty bathroom.

“We have to go, K, because, it’s one of the premier celebrity hangouts. Say yes!” Heather jumps up and down in the bathroom like a puppy on steroids, causing Kylie to smile and shake her head at her friend’s expressive motions.

“You know I love you, right?” She waits for Heather’s agreeing nod and gets it. “But I have to call it a night.”

Placing both hands on Heather’s shoulders to keep her still, she continues, “If you would like to go out with the band, I’ll be fine taking a cab back to the dorm. I’m glad that we hung, but I don’t think my body or mind can take any more of your fun, babe.” Letting go of her shoulders, Kylie pulls out her phone, pushes some buttons and puts in the Uber request.

“But, K, I called lifeline and you have to follow it,” Heather whines, scrunching her face.

“No, your lifeline was used to get me in the bar and anything afterward would be up to me.”

She watches as Heather thinks it over as if trying to calculate a way around the lifeline rules, but the girl knows that there is no wiggle room.

“Okay. Fine,” Heather huffs, blowing out a breath so that her bangs fly up.

So dramatic.

“But you’re going to miss some cool stuff.”

“I am sure you will tell me all about it later,” Kylie mutters, ushering Heather out of the bathroom. Heather heads in the direction of the band manager, while Kylie returns to the bar to settle the tab.

They eventually meet outside the bar to exchange goodbyes.

“Will you be cool here with these guys?” Kylie eyes the band members boarding the bus up and down. “All of a sudden I don’t really feel comfortable leaving you like this.”

“I’m cool. Turns out that their manager, Ed, knows my dad, so he’s taking care of me.  You sure you don’t want to come? I’ll stay for only an hour, tops.” Heather raises her brows and gives a hopeful look, but she shoots down her request.

“Nah, I’ll be fine and my cab will be here in a minute anyway.” Kylie glances at her phone. “Don’t worry, I’ll text you when I get home.” She waves goodbye as Heather reluctantly leaves her and boards the bus with the rest of the band.

Minutes pass and the cab still hasn’t arrived, so she checks her phone to confirm his arrival. She receives the message ‘stuck in traffic’ from the driver, which is weird since it’s so late. Kylie was ready to select a new driver when she feels a sudden chill in the air and it reminds her that she left her sweater in the bar.

Shit.

She doesn’t want to go back into that place alone but her school ID is in the pocket and she needs it to get in the dorm.

Kylie receives a second ping on her phone as she strides back inside the bar in the direction the restroom, but she ignores it, assuming that she’d be in and out of the bar quickly. When she enters the bathroom, she finds her sweater hanging on the back of the front stall and grabs it. While walking down the hall toward the exit, the feeling again of being watched gives her goose bumps. Shaking it off, she books toward the exit as a third ping comes through her phone. She quickly glances down at the notification and feels relief when she sees the words ‘arrived.” The taxi. She rapidly types a response while walking, but becomes distracted, so much that she runs into something hard. Peering up, she slowly runs her eyes up the length of the giant figure in front of her. She comes face to face with a hulking man, whose black hair is so dark that it blends in with the dark lighting surrounding him. What’s even more intimidating about this man in front of her, besides his obviously unmoving hard body, is his over six-feet tall stature. She can’t quite make out his face because of the shadow in the hall, but she knows it’s the man from earlier. She can somehow see his unnerving smile through the darkness and it causes a spark of fear to shoot through her, all the way down to the core of her being.

“Hi there, sexy. Where are you off to in such a rush?” The man coos as he reaches out to touch her cheek, the deep baritone in his voice giving her the chills. She jerks back, nearly bumping into the vending machine in the hall. His face comes into the light and for the first time she notices his eyes. Are they glowing?

“Umm ... just heading back to meet my friend at the bar.” She tries to brush by him, only to be blocked again by his broad form.

“You mean the friend that just left with the band,” he taunts. Kylie stiffens, wondering how he knew who she was with and where her friend went. Was he watching her?

She quickly tries to recover, but her response lacks all confidence and comes out as a stutter instead.

“N-No … my other friend is in the car waiting, so have a nice evening.” She attempts to skirt around him again, but this time he grabs her arm firmly.

Rubbing a thumb across her skin he smirks. “I think you should come hang out with me instead. I can make it worth your while.”

“No thanks. I must be going.” Kylie tries to break free from the man’s steely grip, yanking her arm vigorously, dropping her phone in the process. The stranger takes the opportunity to smash the device with his foot.

“I wasn’t asking,” he growls, tightening his hold. He wraps one arm around her waist and puts the other over her mouth. Pulling her back to his chest, he drags her to a hidden room beyond the bathroom. She struggles to break free, but the man is just too strong.

“Don’t scream, or I’ll kill you,” he hisses in her ear. Whimpering at the sound of his command, her body stills. She is surprised when he lets her go, so she scuttles to the corner and huddles in a protective ball.

Kylie can’t believe this is happening to her right now, and inwardly kicks herself for not leaving with Heather, or at least voicing the wariness she felt about this place for most of the evening. She comes to the realization that she needs a weapon to protect herself from him, but her purse is on the other side of the room, next to his foot. Sweat beads down her forehead as she contemplates her next course of action.

The man tilts his head to the side, studying her, with a look of what appears to be triumph flashing in his eyes. Though extremely afraid, she defiantly returns his gaze in an attempt to hide her fear. He closes his eyes for a moment and sniffs the air, which confuses her greatly.

What is happening?

When he opens his eyes again, the man grins as if he knows something she doesn’t and then he speaks, his low voice sending chills to her core.

“Now this place is better, nice and quiet so we won’t be disturbed. I’d really like to get to know you better, but you need to come closer.” The man motions for her to move, but she continues to glare at him, barely keeping her fear at bay.

“I know you’re afraid of me. I can smell your fear, and I actually kind of like it.”

Kylie’s eyes widen as her face pales at his words. How the hell can he smell anything on her? This makes no fucking sense at all, but she really didn’t care about this man’s crazy ramblings. Her main focus is to get out of this room immediately. Unfortunately the man continues to speak, fraying her already withered nerves to a point of breaking.

“I’ve been watching you the entire night, and I must say that you are delectable. Your tight ass in that skirt, the way your hips swayed when you danced … mmm. The only think I could think of, besides being inside you, was how you would taste.” He moves so swiftly that she doesn’t get a chance to back away, and stops just short of kissing her. Inhaling the space surrounding her, the tone in his voice goes low as he rumbles, “You smell so delicious, and it took much of my willpower not to take you earlier. Your friend should be counting her lucky stars, because I would have killed her just to get to you.” He slowly runs a thumb across her lip, but she turns her head to the side in disgust.

The sound of a bottle breaking causes the man’s attention to wane, and Kylie takes his momentary distraction as her chance at escape. She is somehow able to dive around him, but falls to the floor, hitting her knees hard. Not paying attention to her captor, or caring about the pain, she crawls toward her purse with the man right behind her, grabbing her ankle. He proceeds to drag her back in his direction, but she hinders him by kicking him in the face with her other foot, making his grip loosens slightly. With adrenaline pumping, she pushes herself forward, reaching for the straps and grasps them. Success. She quickly shoves a hand in her purse and seizes her prized possession. The pocket knife was a gift from her dad, and at the moment, her only form of protection against this weirdo. She never in a million years thought that she would ever have to use such a thing ever, but here she was, fighting for her life and with this now in her possession, she plans to win. Right before her dad died from cancer, he gave it to her as a present, his way of keeping her safe because he wouldn’t be there. He claimed that it was the boyfriend talk, but her nine year old self, thought it was strange. His exact words were, “Guys are dicks. If one acts up, stick this in it and they’ll never bother you again.” Yeah, she was very glad at that moment that he had given it to her.

The man lets go of her legs completely, and a sense of hope over comes her. She flips on her back and points the knife at him, confident that he won’t come any closer, but quickly realizes her mistake when he’s suddenly on his hands and knees on top of her, caging her body in.

Smirking and with lust in his eyes, he says, “You are a feisty one and I can’t wait to break you.” Towering over her, his hands on both sides of her head, he leans in to kiss her, but she returns his advance by lunging at him with the knife. To her horror, he is ready for the action because he swiftly catches her wrist before contact is made and causes the weapon to fall to the floor, the clanking sound of its landing filling her with dread.

Fuck.

Taking advantage of her misfortune, the stranger grabs both wrists and holds them above her head firmly with one of his massive hands. He leans in again to steal a kiss, and this time, she’s unable to avoid it because he holds her chin, keeping her head in the position he wants. Panic rises through her as he presses his lips on hers, forcing his tongue down her throat. Oh fuck. Oh fuck.

Bile rises in her throat as he continues to forcibly kiss her, her body wrenching in an attempt to break free from his ironclad grip. She becomes even more ill as the one-sided kiss deepens and the struggles begin to wane, her mind telling her to reserve her energy for one last effort at escape. She doesn’t even sense him pull away until he speaks. “That was as good as I thought it would be, but I want more of you Kylie.”

He knows my name.

She officially freaks the fuck out because not only is she in a situation where it’s starting to look more and more like she won’t get away, this crazy man knows who she is. Has he been following her and she didn’t notice? Did he overhear her and Heather talking earlier? Yes that’s it, the only way he could have known, but she asks anyway.

“How do you know my name?”

He grinds his hips against her jeans, and its then that she becomes aware of his erection, her body stiffening at the sensation. He moves his lips close to her ear and whispers harshly, “I know exactly who you are. You’re mine.” As he nuzzles her neck, she feels the slow teasing lick of his tongue across her skin. She winces at the sharp pain of him biting her.

“No,” she gasps as he continues to nip at her throat in a carnal way that seems to last an eternity. Her mind escapes within itself as a way to deal with the impossible things occurring in front of her eyes, accepting the fact that there may be no way out.

Feeling his mouth withdraw from her neck, she faces him again, only this time his teeth are sharper and his eyes are glowing. What the hell?

When he lets go of one of her hands to grip her by the chin, she takes the opportunity to claw at his cheek, drawing blood, but her action is futile. To her shock and surprise, his wounds stitch themselves together.

Still reeling from the man healing, she notices a look of calm wash over him and then he says, “That was very foolish of you, my love.” He pauses a beat, his hand extending to cup her cheek in a way meant to be loving, but sends chills up her spine.

“I should have done this first, but I was hoping that you’d be more cooperative. Some men like their women to fight, but I don’t.” Holding her face still, he keeps his gaze fixed on her. Despite her feeble struggles, she cannot turn away. She panics as his glowing eyes blaze into hers, causing her body to go slack. “That’s better,” he coos, carrying her to the couch on the opposite side of the room, and laying her limp body on it.

She becomes nauseous at the fact that he joins her on the couch, moving her trembling legs to rest on his lap. He leans forward, giving her another kiss, but this is the first one that she doesn’t rebuff, eagerly returning his lip ministrations and allowing the tip of his tongue to slip through.

God, she doesn’t understand what the fuck is happening because one minute she was fighting for her life and now she doesn’t want to disobey him at all. She listens to his whispers of love proclamations, but she knows it to be false. He is using it as a way to get into her head so that she somehow fully surrenders to him.

Fuck that.

She has to remain strong for what her mind is certain that he plans to do next. Closing her eyes, she takes a moment to try and shut off her emotions, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of her tears, but again her body no longer belongs to her so the only thing that she can do is obey.  

“Take your shirt off, so I can see you, love. Leaning back against the couch, the man licks his lips and watches as she does as he orders, Kylie hating every minute of it.

“Remove the bra too,” the stranger orders, her hands moving with speed to follow his command, but her eyes pleading with him to stop.

I hate you, she thinks to herself as the bra drops to the floor, the chill of the air making her nipples hard. She watches as his lust filled eyes trail the length of her chest, his muscular form slowly advancing toward her. She juts her breasts forward, giving him more access, internally cringing at her body’s willingness to do so.

Why can’t I stop?

Placing his mouth over her nipple, he laves his tongue across her hard peak causing a guttural moan to escape her lips. At her sound, she senses him grin against her breast and this makes her ill. Her reaction to his forced touch is in no way normal, in fact the only word to describe this is bizarre. She sees no possible escape from this madman who somehow was able to manipulate her mind and body. The only thing left for her to do is cry.

While one hand squeezes and twists her hard peaks, the other slowly glides down her chest, pausing when it reaches the bottom of her skirt. In one expertly quick move, her skirt is shoved above her waist and he tears her panties, exposing her nakedness to him. She mutters the words stop and no, but she understands that her pleas are pointless. The look in his eyes tells her what he wants, what he’s going to take.

After he tosses her shredded underwear to the side, she feels his rough hands spread her legs, so she looks away, not allowing herself to witness the defilement of her body. He shifts positions and is now on top, his fingers suddenly plunging into her and her traitorous body rocks with each thrust.

“Tell me how good this feels,” he whispers to her, moving them in and out in a slow motion.

With tears brimming in her eyes she responds, “It feels so good.” He uses the padding of his thumb to massage her clit and despite her inner protests, she quickly comes on his fingers.

Despair sets in as she hears the telltale sound of his belt unbuckling and his pants hitting the floor. The hardness against her leg indicates that he is moments from doing what can’t be undone, but she doesn’t have to look at him at all because in her mind that will make this real.

“Look at me,” he hisses, gripping her chin to force her head to turn, her eyes then locking with his. It’s then that a lone tear slides down her cheek and he wipes it away with his thumb. “You may grow to like it.”

He smiles just before slowly entering her. A ragged breath escaping him when he fills her completely.

Hatred and sadness are the only emotions that she allows to seep into her being as this man, this stranger, moves inside her. She wonders to herself if he’s even a man since no human being’s eyes glow the way his did nor are their teeth as sharp. Maybe this is all a dream, and she’ll wake up in her dorm room surrounded by books.

No such luck.

As he continues to move, that familiar feeling of pleasure starts to build, but she doesn’t want it. How can her body enjoy this when her mind and spirit are fracturing with each thrust of his hips? He wraps a hand around her throat, possibly another way of claiming ownership, as his body pushes her toward the ultimate sweet release. Then he speaks his name as she continues get closer and closer to the edge, the point when her body bends to the will of this man.

“Marco,” he grinds into her ear as his thrusts become faster. “It’s the name of the man who you belong to now, the one that claimed you tonight, the one you will never escape.” His hand tightens on her throat even more. “Say it,” he growls, as his pants get harsher and thrusts more with increasing speed.

“Marco.” The word slips from her lips in a whisper, despite her best efforts.

“Who do you belong to?” he demands.

“Marco,” she shouts as her sex begins to contract. Holy fuck she’s coming, and she can’t stop the pleasure of her body. It’s exquisite, but the pain in her heart and soul is unbearable. With every spasm, the light in her eyes dies and is replaced by something dark and dreary.

Broken.

Numb.

That’s what she is now.

So numb that she didn’t even feel his seed shoot inside her, only him resting his head against her shoulder after completion. She inwardly cringes when she realizes that he didn’t use a condom, and she could get pregnant, but maybe that won’t matter because he might kill her, and then she won’t have to suffer the aftereffects of what was done to her.

As Marco still has a hold of her neck and squeezes tighter, she doesn’t fight, because she'd rather die than spend another moment with this cruel being who ruined her. He gazes at her with what she reads as satisfaction in his eyes, as if this is only the beginning, but that can’t be. She’s seen his face and will tell the cops, so common sense tells her that her death is imminent.

The hand around her throat goes tighter, blocking her airway and causing her to get light-headed.

“I know what you’re thinking, but you’re wrong.” He squeezes harder and her breathing gets shallow.

“I don’t plan on killing you my sweet, Kylie.”

Her eyes widen in fear, and before she passes out, he whispers in her ear, “We are going to have so much fun together.”