The Rush

It was starting to weird me out.



And then when the plates had been cleared, Eva stood up to go to the bathroom. I set my napkin down, careful to hide the blood stains, as if to stand up with her. I mean, wasn’t it a universally known fact that women went to the bathroom together? At the very least in pairs? But before I could stand up, the full weight of his arm was pressed down on my shoulder, telling me to sit tight.



I sighed and went back to staring at the table, watching the small votive candle flicker in the dim lighting of the Liberty Tavern. Eventually, the bill was paid, by Taylor, who insisted that this was his treat and we were on our way to after dinner drinks.



I had to assume Nix explained that I was underage and wouldn’t be able to go anywhere they carded. Not that I didn’t have my fake ID with me, I did. And not that I wasn’t used to charming my way passed bartenders and bouncers, because I was. But warning bells were ringing in my head that I should not at all give another man attention while Taylor arranged for me.



He did not seem like the type that played well with others.



The whole underage thing turned out to be a null point anyway, when to my horror, instead of leaving the hotel to drive somewhere else, the men led us over to the bank of elevators. Anaxandra and Eva were cozy and friendly, draped on their dates’ arms, but I remained stiff and cautious next to Taylor.



Even though I hadn’t had anything to drink at dinner, everyone else had plenty and Drew and Blake were more than a little tipsy. Ana and Eva seemed relaxed enough; even though I could tell they were still very much in control.



Taylor on the other hand…. he was clearly on his way to inebriated, but instead of getting loud and goofy, he held on to me tighter, pressed me against him harder. His arm was snaked around my waist with his fingertips digging into my side uncomfortably. And he had me pulled against his body so that my side was pressed firmly against his. It was awkward to walk that way, and I was obnoxiously off balance.



Not to mention he reeked of beer.



Once we were all piled into the elevator, he gripped me tighter, wrapping his whole arm around my waist and then burying his face in the crook of my neck and collarbone.



He made a sexual grunting sound and then inhaled loudly. “Damn, girl, you smell so good.”



I mumbled my thank you and then tried to wiggle out of his hold. We were in the back corner of the elevator and even though I wasn’t exactly in danger, I was extremely uncomfortable and I desperately wished Ana or Eva would pay attention to me. They were busy flirting with their own dates, who had gotten very handsy themselves after dinner, so they were dealing with their own problems.



“I cannot wait to get you alone tonight,” Taylor murmured against my skin. Everything went motionless inside me, petrified with fear. Even my lungs stilled and my heart stopped completely.



“No, I don’t think we’re supposed to be alone,” I fumbled through an excuse. “I uh, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”



“Sure it is,” he growled, digging his fingers into my stomach and wrapping his other hand around my shoulders so I was effectively caged against him. “It’s a great idea. A fantastic idea.”



I let out a shaky breath and placed my hands over his, the one that was bruising my abdomen. “Please let go. You’re hurting me.”



The pressure let up, just a little bit. “Say it, Ivy, say it’s a good idea.”



I shook my head in response, trying to fight back big tears that were threatening to spill. His fingers went back to jabbing my skin and I would have doubled over if his arm across my chest hadn’t kept me locked in a standing position.



“Say it,” his voice was deadly quiet, just a whisper in my ear. But the ugliest, most dangerous whisper I had ever heard.



“I would love to be alone with you,” I forced out. But no. No I did not want to be alone with him. I wanted anything but to be alone with him. His fingers lightened against my stomach and shoulder and I used the moment to take a deep, steadying breath.



I had to get out of this.



I wasn’t exactly sure what the protocol was here. Last night, Nix made me understand that it was my duty to make my date feel welcomed and at home. I was supposed to be the perfect date, have no expectations on the man and allow him to relax completely with a beautiful woman on his arm.



But surely this was not in the contract. There had to be some kind of code that I could use to warn Anaxandra and Evaleen that my date had gone bad. Really bad.



The elevators finally opened on the top floor and we all poured out of the closed metal box. Drew and Eva started down one way while Blake and Ana walked along with us.



“See you in the morning, dude,” Blake called out to Drew who just laughed hysterically in return.



I looked over at Ana until I caught her attention. We were side by side with the boys on the outside talking about stupid things above our heads.



“I can’t do this, Ana,” I whispered fiercely.



“He knows not to push further than you’ll let him, Ives. It’s in his contract. You have got to relax,” she bit out back at me.



“I can’t. Ana, please, help me get out of this,” I begged as silently as I could. A treacherous tear escaping down my cheek. “Please.”



Taylor’s pull on me was abrupt and painful as my body slammed back into his. I didn’t know if he had heard me or not, but I felt like a worthless ragdoll against the strength of his arms.



Ana must have seen the fear in my eyes or the forceful way he was treating me because suddenly the annoyed look on her face turned to concern.



“Hey, why don’t we party together for a while?” She suggested coyly. She turned in Blake’s arms and played with the top button of his open oxford. “It could be fun. Just a few more drinks? Maybe play a little poker?”



“Strip poker?” Blake asked with hooded eyes.



“Sure, strip poker,” Ana cooed back. “Ivy loves strip poker, don’t you Ivy?”



I opened my mouth to announce how much I loved strip poker, anything was better than being alone with Taylor at this point, but he beat me to it.



“That’s alright,” Taylor said in a cold voice. “Ivy and I are ready to be alone. But you two go on and have fun now.”



Taylor stopped at the door to his room and pulled out the keycard that would open it. Blake laughed at Taylor’s brazenness and pulled Ana along to his room. She gave me an anxious, apologetic look but let him drag her along.



Then the lock clicked open and Taylor was leading me into his room. He didn’t bother to turn on the lights so as soon as the door shut behind us we were lost in complete darkness. His hands had never left me and were now holding me in place, both of them firmly on my waist.



“You, you, y-you should know that I’m actually underage,” I stammered. “I’m only sixteen!”



My voice was a desperate cry, my breath stuck in my throat.



“You better be,” he sneered, and then pushed me forward. My foot caught on something, a suitcase or desk leg or something and I stumbled forward and fell on my knees. My hands caught my fall, but then his polished shoe came down hard on my backside, propelling me forward so that I flew face first into the carpet. The rough, hotel room carpet burned against my face and I cried out in pain and fear. “I wanted someone young, Ivy. You’re exactly what I was hoping for.”



Chapter Thirty-Six



I laid there on the carpet, hands clutching the short, tough fibers, freaking out. I mean, I had a meltdown like seven months ago, but no emotions I ever felt compared to the fierce terror that momentarily froze me to stone.



He wanted somebody underage?



Nix sent me into this situation knowing that?



Oh. No.



Oh, no no no no no no.



I ordered my brain to think of an escape plan, to find a way out of this, and to do it now! But



before I could even think about moving, his hand was tangled in my hair and yanking me to my feet. I cried out again at his tight hold and the way he ripped my head back in order to get me to bend to his will.



Once I was standing again he turned me around to face him. He placed his huge palm against the curve of my face very delicately and looked into my eyes like he was a gentle person. The effect wasn’t placating or relaxing but sickening and my chin started to tremble under the intensity of his gaze. His face was bathed in the dim light from the half open curtains behind us. My eyes had adjusted to the darkness of the room, but all I could see were the sinister, evil lines of the man holding me in place. The same hand that was caressing my face so gently suddenly pulled back and then slapped me. Hard.



I bit my cheek as a result, the coppery taste of blood mixing with the extra saliva from the desire to vomit. Holy hell, what was going on? How did I get to this place in my life? How did I get here, where someone was beating the hell out of me for their sick entertainment?



“You can’t- I’m Nix’s. Nix wants me for himself,” I shouted out in a desperate plea. No desperate wasn’t even the right word. There wasn’t a word that could convey how badly I wanted to get out of here. How afraid I was of this man.



That threat was met with a harsh, gunshot of laughter. It pierced the dark, silent room like the very sound of it was raping the quiet. I had to get out of here. Now.



“I’m not going to have sex with you Ivy,” he taunted me, making it sound like I suggested something inhumanely vile. “Nix wants me to teach you a lesson, to discipline you. Trust me if I wanted to get off by sleeping with you, this would have gone completely different. I’m actually a fantastic date.”



His explanation caught me so off guard I was rendered completely speechless. This was actually part of my punishment? Nix had arranged this?



Cold, frantic dread settled in the pit of my stomach and a hopelessness so strong, so consuming I almost decided to just take this willingly and get it over with. What else was there? I had no reason to fight, to try to get out of this. If I didn’t take this punishment now, Nix would just find another way.



A huge part of me had been so distressed over protecting my virginity, especially when I thought the man was going to rape me that I hadn’t really given much thought to the other physical consequences that would come out of this. But now that my virtue was safe from this raving lunatic, the rest of the real fears that he brought with him descended on me and the tears started to fall in huge, sobbing drops down my face.



“Don’t cry,” he growled. “Don’t be so weak.” His palm smacked across my face again and my neck snapped back from the force of it. He caught me with his other hand before I could fall, and his fingers dug into my neck until I felt the hot blood streaming down my neck.



“Stop hitting me,” I screamed, suddenly so furious, so angry that this man kept assaulting me. Surprisingly I had pictured myself being attacked lots of times before. Usually it was in the context of working for Nix one day far in the future and stopping some sick pervert from making me do something I didn’t want to. In those scenarios I was always this super-powered badass that kicked the ever loving crap out of my assailants.



In reality I wasn’t turning out to be the Kung-Fu master I imagined.



I took a step back, giving myself some space from him. He matched me, step for step until my back was to the wall, half on solid plaster, half pressed against the edge of the window frame. I tilted my chin in an act of defiance and made myself look for an opportunity to go for his junk.



In hindsight and in the profession I was supposed to be planning to go into, a few self-defense classes might have been a good idea. Still, there was promise in good nut-shot.



“There really is something special about you,” Taylor’s voice dropped to a husky murmur.



“I’ve been around sirens before, but it’s like, it’s like you really set something off.” His hands clenched my biceps, almost so that the entire circumference of his thumb to middle finger touched. It was agonizing and chilling but then he let go and started to rub my biceps, up and down with ice cold palms. I just stood their frozen, waiting for my opportunity to strike. His hands moved from rubbing my arms, to my shoulders and then across my collarbone to my neck. “Say please.”



“What?” I croaked.



“Say, please don’t hit me anymore,” he ordered, his voice still deceptively calm.



“Please don’t hit me anymore,” I echoed and then braced myself for the hit.



He smiled at me, his lips twisting to an unsettling imitation of happiness. His hands wrested at the base of my throat, his fingers wrapping around my neck until they touched in the back. His eyes intensified right before he struck, they went from dull to blazing just a fraction of a second before his hands clamped down and together, choking the life out of me.



My instant reaction was pure surprise. I tensed immediately and began to scratch and claw at his hands as they shook me by the neck, blocking my air supply. Then there was panic, pure panic. Not the kind that causes panic attacks, which are a slow buildup to the real deal, not even the small kind that shoots razors down your arms and makes the hair stand up on the back of your neck. No real, unadulterated panic that blinds you, that cuts off all rational, clear-thinking thought and thrusts you into the heart of fear.



My throat was making these gasping sounds, hoarse and deep bellied but I couldn’t get any air, I couldn’t suck in enough oxygen to get myself under control. And then my vision began to black out completely, first at the edges and then big black spots everywhere I tried to look. I kicked out with my right leg, hoping to land a good solid foot on his manhood, but I was too weak to get control of my appendages and too disoriented to cause any real damage.



Until a knock on the door caught us both off guard. First it was light, just a regular tapping sound. Even as I was being pulled under, I could make out the sound and recognized it immediately. Taylor cursed under his breath and loosened his hold on me just a little. And then the pounding was harder, more forceful until it was noisy banging.