Regi’s arms tightened around my shoulders, pulling me closer, flush and intimate so that not even breath lingered in the spaces where our bodies didn’t touch. Due to the way the booth curved, and the quiet, low-lit ambiance of the wine bar, it felt as if we were the only two people in the whole world; safe and secure in an impenetrable bubble.

For a second first date, it was kind of spectacular. I scooted closer, almost sitting in Regi’s lap. Hunger fired in his eyes like fireworks across the night sky.

He’d earned his second kiss. I wanted him to earn a whole lot more. Maybe I would let him slip my pants down, or even follow me into the lady’s bathroom. I’d never had sex in public, but the idea intrigued me.

My nose brushed his.

A sudden buzz vibrated my purse. Damn, I should have put my phone on mute. I ignored it, flicking the soft leather cross body an annoyed look, and returned to the sienna pull of Regi’s gaze. I’d forgotten how easy it was to drown in his eyes.

His mouth lowered towards mine. I almost tasted him on my tongue. He’d shocked me with his earlier claiming. Now, I was ready to introduce my mouth to Regi’s.

His finger twisted my hair around his knuckle, urging me closer.

“I’ve known you were mine since I first met you. It was never a summer fling to me.”

His confession warmed my heart, thawing the hoarfrost that had iced me up since dad left.

My phone buzzed again, and I wanted to chuck my purse across the restaurant. Then the vibrations went into seizures as at least ten text messages had my purse vibrating to the edge of the table like it was doing the cha-cha.

I pulled away with an aggravated sigh. The damn thing popped our bubble, dragging me back to the present and the patrons socializing around me.

“Jesus. Hold on, let me see what the hell that was about.”

Regi nodded and eased back, his attention on the deep burgundy Merlot welled at the bottom of his wine glass. I bit my lip, quietly cursing my cell. Why hadn’t I turned it to silent? Did I want some stupid thing like a text bomb to interrupt me?

Yanking my purse open, I grabbed my phone and tapped the screen.

Licia: I need you.

Licia: Mia, please.

Licia: Help me.

My sister’s plea spammed my message box. Dread coalesced inside of me, as weighty as cement. I jerked upright. “I need to go.”

What had happened? Fuck, please God let Licia be alright.

I leapt up from the booth.

Regi caught my wrist as I turned. “Mia.”

“I need to go, Licia is in trouble.” I tugged on my arm.

“I understand that,” he said. His voice was a soothing baritone talking me down from the flight-or-fight panic which held me in its fist. “Let me help.”

I held his eyes. Confusion blasted through me. “I…”

Regi inched to the edge of the booth, the leather squeaking a reprisal against the motion. “Let me in.”

His plea filled the dark, abandoned spaces inside of me. Tears welled in my eyes, and I blinked them away with a curt nod. “Alright.”

Regi paid for our bill as I struggled into my jacket and replied to Licia. No matter how twisted and angry our relationship was, she was my sister. I would walk over hot coals for her.

Me: Where are you?

Regi held my elbow and guided me out of the restaurant as I willed my sister to respond. I was running on autopilot as he tucked me into the front seat of his car. Both of us waited silently to see where we needed to go, and what we had to do.

Finally, her answer came.

Licia: Frat party in Eagle Heights. Hurry.

“Do you know where fraternity row is in Eagle Heights?” God. What was Mia doing at a frat party alone? No matter how she might act, she was still an eighteen-year-old. I was a fucking horrible sister for letting her go out by herself.

“Yes. Buckle up.”

I was on edge the entire duration of the ten-minute ride out of Madison and toward the off-campus housing. No matter how many texts I sent back to Licia, she didn’t respond. Every mile had me offering wordless prayers to whoever might be watching over her that the night would end with all of us emerging unscathed.

Finally, the familiar silhouettes of the massive houses came into view. It didn’t take more than a quick ride down the main street to find a party in full swing. Regi barely had the car parked before I was bolting out the door.

Music filled the frosty night, and a few college kids were milling about in the cold, weaving and drunk off their asses and hoping a cold snap would get them through the night. The balcony above the central doors overflowed with partiers. What looked like toilet paper was strung over the wrought iron railing and fluttered in the wintery breeze.

I nearly skidded up the flagstone walkway and into the huge brick house. It wasn’t a fraternity, I knew by the absence of the Greek letters missing off the front. But being that it was on Frat Row, that worried me. Either it was a new Greek house, or a disbarred one. And the latter was never a good place for a girl alone. House parties were a mixed bag. I’d attended a dozen of them during my college career. But never alone. As a girl, it was too fucking dangerous to go alone to any party.

I whipped out my phone.

Me: I’m here. Where are you?

Her silence ate at me. I didn’t know where to look first. There were so many people packed into the rooms. By need, frat houses were the love child of dormitories and mansions. The average fraternity house had eight bedrooms, a massive communal bathroom, a couple powder rooms and Jack and Jill bathrooms, and other multi-purpose areas like the basement, attic, and storage space.

I wasn’t gentle as I pushed through a group of co-eds crowding the areas between the living room and the palatial-sized dining room. I would tear this house down to the foundation if need be.

An elbow found my side as I broke around a group of frat boys. I grunted against the burst of pain, but kept moving. The music was deafening as I navigated toward the kitchen.

Still, no Licia.

A few people waved hello at me, but they left me alone. Probably due to the fury and fear blanching my face.

Regi caught up with me as I completed the circle and wound up back in the massive hallway.

“She’s not on the first floor,” I whispered.

I darted a look up towards the curving stairs that led to the second floor and the smaller stairwell near the kitchen which shot down to the lower level. I closed my eyes. Would I find her in time? The house was fucking huge to search through without any idea of where to begin.

Anger tightened Regi’s jaw. “Let’s go upstairs. The bedrooms are up there.”

I couldn’t think of Licia in a bedroom. I mean, after having seen how she’d lured Regi in I knew my little sister wasn’t chaste. But if she was sending texts for help, her being in a bedroom wasn’t of her own free will.

I bull dozed people out of my way, working my way through the zig-zag of space as I climbed the crowded stairs. A beer spilled down my sleeve as I jostled a guy and a girl.

“Bitch,” someone called after me. They weren’t worth a middle finger salute. Not when I’d finally reached the first landing.

There were so many shuttered doors. I knew the hook-up culture of college. I’d done my share of bed hopping, drunk or high or both. But I was never coerced nor did I regret the shenanigans I got into. This was different, and it made me want to scream and rage. Had some frat asshole drugged my sister and led her into one of them? Or was it worse than that? Had he forced her?

Hell, to the fuck, no.

The first two bedrooms were empty. I banged the door to the third one open.

A half-naked guy jerked up from a girl beneath him as I barged into the room. His face had been between her thighs. While he still had his pants on, it was obvious I’d interrupted a hook-up in session.

He wiped at his mouth. “Fuck off, we’re occupied.”

“Sorry,” I muttered and shut the door. Then, I paused. Something wasn’t right. I braced my hand on the wall trying to sort through the quick flash of the two I’d got.

I opened the door again and frowned. I didn’t care about the guy. He was just another frat-boy asshole with prissy hair and scrawny muscles.

But the girl beneath him?

She triggered my mental alarm. She hadn’t moved a muscle either times I opened the door. Her blonde hair was sifted over her face like a snowdrift, arms limp at her sides, thighs wide from where he’d been between them. My eyes widened. This situation was all wrong.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I snapped at the guy. I stalked into the room. Regi moved in behind me.

“We’re busy,” the guy said. He shoved his floppy brown hair off his forehead.

“What I see is you trying to fuck around with an unconscious girl.” I could barely breathe through the anger building in my chest. How dare he. How fucking dare he. He was a cog in the machine of why so many girls were afraid of being alone. Why the statistics of sexual assaults on campus were astronomically high. Why my motherfucking sister was somewhere in this house having who knows what done to her.

The guy’s eyes narrowed. His face tightened into a mean mask. Then he caught sight of Regi. If I’d been alone he’d have probably punched me, or something else.

Revulsion slithered through my bowels.

“She’s into it.”

Yeah. I didn’t think so.

“Hey chick, are you okay?” I called to the girl.

Silence.

Oh, fuck no.

I stomped into the bedroom as fast as high heels allowed, and shoved the shirtless dick-head. “Get the fuck away from her.”

The guy held his hands up and backed away. It wasn’t me he was afraid of, but the hulk behind me menacing him with a glare. I was suddenly thankful Regi had asked to help.

The girl was still mostly dressed. Her shirt was unbuttoned and sloped down her arms. Her bra was undone, exposing a hint of nipple, and her skirt was tucked up around her waist. But her panties were missing. Shit. That wasn’t good. He’d obviously been going down on her, but had more happened?

Brushing her hair aside, I gasped.

“Angela.” Shock and anger stole my breath. If I wasn’t worried about Angela, I would be over there wailing on the asshole. Jo’s roommate was completely out of it. From what I knew of her, she was a lightweight. She never. Ever. Ever. Drank enough to pass out.

I pinned the would-be rapist with a glare. “What did you give her?”

He shifted uneasily on his bare feet. “Nothing.”

Regi was suddenly right there, getting in the cretin’s face. He had at least five inches and fifty pounds of solid muscle on the asshole. His fingers clamped on the guy's throat and shook him; a pit bull shaking the shit out of a poodle. “What the fuck did you give her?”

The guy jerked in Regi’s grip. Regi didn’t let him go.

“She just drank too much,” he whined.

“Bullshit,” I screamed at him. “She doesn’t drink like that.”

My hands shook as I arranged Angela’s clothing, trying to button her blouse up as best as I could. Was Licia in this same situation? Was my taking care of Angela leaving my little sister to be prey?

My eyes burned, and I barely held back the tears which threatened to fall.

“I will beat you until you are begging for mercy. Tell me, and you may live to see your next birthday.” Regi’s voice dripped poison. I shuddered, completely believing him that he would end the fuck-head tonight.

So did the guy. “I slipped her an X-tab.”

I had no clue what that was. The meaty thud of a fist connecting with a human body turned my head. The guy was on the ground, holding his stomach and retching on the floor.

Regi kicked him, and I flinched. Not because I was upset about it, but it was just that hard and vicious I had a visceral reaction.

The dude stopped moving. I turned away. The violence didn’t bother me. Asshole deserved a whole lot more.

I looked up at Regi. “Will she be okay?”

Regi glared down at the unconscious dude. His hands clenched into fists. Being that he was pre-med he would know what the hell the guy was talking about. At least I hoped. “She’ll be out of it for the next 24-hours. He slipped her a high dose of a Benzodiazepine. Likely a generic form of Xanax. Everyone thinks of Rohypnol when they talk about date rape, but an X-tab is more common. It’s easier to get.”

I closed my eyes.

God. Licia.

“Regi,” I whispered, the confusion and choices I was facing cracked my voice. I couldn’t leave Angela, and I couldn’t find Licia.

Regi knelt beside Angela and me on the bed. “I’ll find her,” he whispered and kissed me hard.

I fucking bawled as he left the bedroom, his heavy footsteps receding as he went on a rampage — bull in china shop style — through the frat house. My face was soaked by my deluge of tears.

The jerk-off wheezed on the ground letting me know he was still alive. I needed to call the cops, but not until Licia was safe.

What a cluster fuck.

If they found her on the premises she’d get tagged for underage drinking, whether she was really drinking or not. It would be a huge mark against her admissibility to college. How was I going to get Licia and Angela out of here? Regi could carry one, but not both.

Minutes crept by as I swallowed my tears. Angela hadn’t moved, but I didn’t dare leave her. Even as every fiber in my being demanded I go search for my sister.

I fucking hated men some days. Tonight, was one such time.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Regi returned cradling Licia. Her blonde head was propped limply against his shoulder. He didn’t even give me a chance to ask my questions as I sprung up from the bed.

“She’ll be okay. She locked herself in a bathroom.”

I sagged back onto the mattress in relief. “How are we going to get Angela out of here.”

“I saw someone I know downstairs. I’ll grab him.”

Regi laid Licia down beside Angela. Seeing them both unconscious at the hands of some needle-dick ass-hat made me want to go on a carnage spree. I eyed the inert man with vengeance burning in my blood and drying my tears.

It only seemed that Regi was gone for a second when he returned with a guy I faintly recognized, but couldn’t place his name.

Regi tipped his head. “Jackson Mia, Mia Jackson.”

I nodded at him but didn’t give a fuck who he was. If he helped us get the two girls out of here, he was aces in my book.

Jackson took one look at the situation and exploded with anger. “What the fuck is going on here?”

How was he so clueless? He’d been at the party the whole night.

“Someone is slipping date rape drugs to the girls at the party,” Regi said.

“Fuck,” Jackson said. He looked angry, but there was something more in the look. Guilt? I couldn’t focus on it.

“Will you grab Angela?” Regi gently scooped Licia back up, cradling her carefully.

My gaze locked on them. The moment sputtered for me, moving in slow motion. In a flash, a quick fleeting moment, I knew someday Regi would be a good father. He tucked Licia’s head into his shoulder as if she were a child and swiftly left the room.

Jackson paused, probably wondering if I was going to slug him. I knew I had my resting bitch face on. I was so spitting mad, I shook with the force of my anger.

He leaned around me and grabbed Angela. With more care than I’d have thought for a guy that looked like a damn motorcycle club try-out, his tattoos visible and obvious, his long hair a lion’s mane around his bearded face, he picked Angela up as if she were a feather. An odd expression creased his features when he stared down into Angela’s face. Then it was gone and he was carrying Angela out too.

Relief and anger rode me hard, a tumultuous frenzy that wanted justice and revenge. How did no one notice what was going on? Angela might have arrived alone, just like Licia did. Perfect fodder to be led astray. Or maybe those partying downstairs hadn’t cared.

I hurried out of the house after Regi and Jackson. They’d cut a swathe through the party, leaving a wake of confused faces. Somehow, they hadn’t noticed the girls being coerced upstairs, but they sure noticed them being carried out. But no one tried to stop them. Which was what was fucking wrong with the world. I wanted to slap them, demand they stop Regi and Jackson and just ask a fucking question.

The cold air didn’t dampen my fury as we reached the car. I opened the doors, and the two men gingerly tucked Licia and Angela into the back of Regi’s car.

Regi had his fingers pressed against Licia’s pulse. He stared off into the distance as he counted the beats. Finally, he nodded. He did the same with Angela. For so long I’d thought of Regi as just a football player, the teenage dreamboat I’d met in high-school. But he wasn’t that anymore. He was an adult on his way to making a difference in people’s lives.

Shame flushed through me, but I couldn’t dwell on it.

“I don’t think they need to go to the hospital. They may want to go after they wake up and report it, though. What do you think?”

Jackson stood quietly by, his arms crossed over his chest. I gave him a brief smile in thanks and then looked at the two girls I’d saved from becoming a statistic. I closed my eyes. If I were in their shoes what would I want to be done?

“Let’s take them back to my apartment and watch them,” I finally said. Was I doing the right thing for Licia and Angela?

Regi tapped Jackson on the shoulder. “You probably should leave. I’ll get in touch with you later. Thanks for the help.”

Pulling my phone out, I called 911 and left an anonymous tip about drugs and alcohol at the letter-less fraternity house.

Regi waited until the police sirens started up the road.

As the frosty night sky became washed in the swirl of blue and red neon lights, we pulled away and went home.