Good.
“He put something in your drink. And then he would have waited,” I whispered in her ear. I saw her throat move as she swallowed.
“He would have waited until you went to the bathroom, or gone outside to get some air, and then he would have followed you. You would have been too spaced out from the drug to put up a fight when he dragged you off behind the building,” I said. She looked truly scared, and I felt sort of bad. But a girl like this didn’t understand the dangers that lurked for her in the shadows.
“And you would have been unconscious while he did whatever he wanted to you,” I finished, dropping my hand from her waist and moving away. I adjusted my cap and finished the rest of my drink before pushing the glass toward Eric.
“Guys like that wait all night for an easy mark like you. So if you plan on being here, smarten up. Because there are plenty of predators out there,” I told her, suddenly angry. I wasn’t sure why I was so mad. But all thoughts of possession, of desire, had been erased by an unfamiliar sense of protectiveness.
The girl frowned and looked at me as closely as she was able to in the dim light. “I remember you. You were the one who helped me find my friend last time.” Then she stepped into my personal space. She violated and encroached. And I was the one who took the step back.
“What’s your name?” she asked softly, reaching up for my cap, as though she wanted to remove it.
I grabbed her wrist and pulled it away, holding it down at her side. “You should go home. I told you last time: You don’t belong in a place like this. I think this just proves it. The mouse doesn’t survive long in a room full of cats,” I said.
I was starting to feel jittery. I needed another fix, and soon. The drugs had started to work their way out of my system, and I felt my organs screaming to hold it in. My blood and bones were hysterical over the loss.
I was thinking too clearly, and my eyes were too focused. But she made me want to see straight.
I didn’t understand why. I didn’t like the effect she had.
It made me angry.
My night had been consumed by this girl, and there were other things I was supposed to be doing.
She opened her mouth to speak, and I thought about thrusting my tongue between her red lips.
Tasting and conquering.
Making her mouth mine.
But her words and my desires were cut short.
“There was a long-ass line at the bathroom. Sorry that took so long.” Her friend returned, and she was momentarily distracted by his appearance. I used that as my chance to disappear into the crowd.
I left her.
I tried to forget.
I tried to resume my night as it had been before I had seen her.
But there was no forgetting. Some people can burrow their way into your head without you realizing it is even happening.
And later on, as I beat the shit out of the guy who had slipped her the drugs, I knew she had burrowed deep.
I just hadn’t decided what I would do if she stayed there.
Chapter eight
aubrey
“you wanna head over to the commons and grab some dinner?” Renee asked, walking into my bedroom.
I looked up from my homework in surprise. Was she talking to me? Was this an actual invite to hang out?
Last weekend at Compulsion had been . . . well . . . interesting.
It was hard for me to decide whether I had truly enjoyed myself or not. The entire experience had been completely surreal.
Being there, pretending to be someone I wasn’t, had been liberating in a sense. The need to let go and have fun was a tantalizing temptation, one that for a few moments I had been fully ready to give in to.
But then I had seen him again, the stranger wearing the baseball cap. He had swooped in and saved the day as though he had been waiting all night for such a moment.
I had felt like an idiot when he kept me from drinking the drug-laced beer. I prided myself on being hypervigilant when it came to unusual situations. It wasn’t like me to leave my drink unguarded.
I wasn’t an idiot, but that night I had been all sorts of stupid. I had been reckless and almost endangered myself by my ignorance.
But mystery man made sure that hadn’t happened.
I should have been grateful he was there. Instead I had felt supremely irritated that I hadn’t been able to take care of myself, and he had basically mocked me for it.
I wasn’t the sort of girl who needed rescuing, yet he had done so twice now.
And I still didn’t know his name or even what he looked like. And I knew that, without a doubt, that was completely intentional.
When he had touched me, it had been deliberate, as though he was looking for a certain kind of response from me. He knew what he was doing by invading my personal space, and he enjoyed making me uncomfortable.
But then he had disappeared, and I hadn’t seen him again for the rest of the night.
I hated to admit that I had spent more time looking for him than I had dancing. I had completely forgotten to look for Renee as well, and it wasn’t until Brooks and I were leaving at two in the morning that I realized I hadn’t seen her all night.
Brooks had been more than a little drunk, so I had to drive us home. Renee was already home by the time I got back to the apartment. I had seen the light on underneath her door.
But I had been out of sorts and feeling strangely shaky, so I hadn’t bothered to find out where she had been. And I hadn’t really spoken to her since.
So her sudden appearance in my bedroom caught me by surprise.
“What?” I questioned dumbly.
“We haven’t spent any sort of time together lately. I thought we could . . . you know, get some dinner and then maybe rent a movie. It’s been a while since we’ve watched Dazed and Confused,” she offered, her pale green eyes meeting mine tentatively.
I knew she was trying. She was reaching out. And I wasn’t one to smack away what she was offering. It hit me hard in that moment how much I missed my best friend. I suddenly needed the open confidences we used to share.
As much as I loved Brooks, he wasn’t Renee.
I closed my Counseling Foundations textbook and gave her a smile. “That sounds great,” I said genuinely. Renee seemed relieved that I had accepted her offer so readily. Perhaps I hadn’t been as accessible as I thought I had been. Could it be that the state of our deteriorating friendship didn’t rest entirely on her shoulders? Perhaps my tendency to shut people out had contributed to the emotional distance between us.
I grabbed my purse, and Renee pulled on her black leather jacket. She jammed her hands in her pockets and pulled out a couple of receipts that I had left behind after wearing it on Saturday.