~Chapter 33~
"Going sowhere, Katya?" His hot breath wafted against my ear, sending chills down my spine. Uneasiness washing over as his words dripped with an unsettling familiarity, like he knew too much. My na flowed from his lips like honey.
How did he find so quickly? Did he follow from the lounge? The thought made my skin crawl. What a creep.
Struggling against his grip, trying to free myself, his fingers dug into my skin, making wince. I pushed back, against his strong hold and he spun around, making us stand face to face.
"Let go. I’m not interested." I demanded, pushing at his broad chest, trying to create so distance between us.
His chest was solid, and hard to hit at but I didn’t care. Who was this guy, and why wouldn’t he leave alone?
He held tightly, moving us back into the crowded dance floor and said into my ears." I know your type, feisty at first but secretly loves it." His voice was low and husky, that sent shivers through .
Secretly loves what? What did he an? His words made feel so dirty? This creep, doesn’t know what boundaries were.
He pressed his body against mine, his chest crushing , making it hard to breathe. His lips grazed the skin below my ear, sending a waves and waves of revulsion through .
Hell no, he wasn’t going to force himself on . Was he?
His hand slid down my back, cupping my buttocks, his fingers digging into the flesh. A jolt of fear and anger shot through as that was the final straw.
I raised my knee, aiming straight for his groin and I felt a satisfying crunch as my knee connected with his vulnerable flesh.
Hoping it hurt him and prayed it hurt him to death. He released instantly, doubling over in agony, clutching his groin.
I took advantage of the distraction to land a stinging slap on his cheek.
The slap was out of spite, a manifestation of the rage and fear coursing through my veins. I wanted to strangle him for his assault, but I didn’t have the luxury of ti to do so.
Without hesitation, I turned and ran, bursting through the door and out into the cool night air.
The two massive n guarding the entrance looked up, their eyes locking onto mine for a brief mont before they looked away, their expressions impassive.
It seed this was a normal occurrence, sothing they were accustod to seeing and ignoring.
That made my blood boil, because how could they just stand there, doing nothing?
Didn’t they care that I might just have been assaulted? My blood boiled with rage and frustration but I ran, my bare feet carrying out of that God forsaken place, my heart racing with fear.
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My bare feet pounded the pavent, carrying to a nearby alleyway and I leaned against the wall, exhaling deeply, my chest heaving with exhaustion.
I’d been running from the club for at least thirty minutes close to an hour straight. My eyes fixed on the path ahead, never once looking back.
The adrenaline that had fueled my escape was starting to wear off, replaced by a creeping sense of dread.
Not once did I feel like soone was following so I needed a break, catching my breath.
As I caught my breath, I noticed a group of people huddled at the corner of the alley, smoking heavily.
The acrid sll of nicotine and tar filled the air, making my stomach turn. It was my cue to leave, not wanting to draw attention to my disheveled state. My short dress and bare feet made feel vulnerable, and I didn’t want to stick around to beco a target.
I pushed off from the wall, moving slowly towards the brighter lights of the main street. The sounds of the city grew louder, with the cacophony of car horns, chatter, and music. Relieved as I stepped into the relative safety of the well-lit street.
But my relief was short-lived. A loud whistle pierced the air, making turn towards the sound.
One of the smokers from the alleyway had broken away from the group, puffing out smoke from his nose as he walked towards . His eyes road over my body, lingering on my legs and chest.
"Where you going, beautiful?" he called out, his voice dripping with sleaze. "Co give us so company with that ass of yours." He leered at ,as I realized I wasn’t safe yet.
I swiftly turned my attention back to the path ahead, quickening my pace. He was bulky figure and his long strides easily matched mine, and before I knew it, he was beside . "Hey, I was talking to you," he gravelly said, as he reached out to grab my arm.
I jerked my arm free, snatching it away from his grasp. I dared a glance up at him, taking in his unkempt appearance. His hair was greasy, his stubble uneven, and his eyes was red from smoking so hard. I shuddered inwardly but kept walking, maintaining a steady pace.
"I’m not interested," I said flatly, trying to sound braver than I felt.
My strategy was to act tough, to make him think I wasn’t worth the trouble. I’d learned from experience that showing emotion only made things worse.
My father had been a master at manipulating my emotions, using them against to inflict more pain.
Acting all pitiful makes them get more urged to inflict more pain. Whenever I’d showed the slightest emotion my father revived in it, driving more pain into to see that sa reaction.
I picked up my pace again, my bare feet pounding against the cold ground. The smoker’s laughter and catcalls echoed through the air, but I refused to look back, keeping my eyes fixed on the street ahead.
My heart thudded in my chest and fear coursing through my veins like ice.
Just as I thought I’d finally managed to shake them off. The sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the air, growing louder with each passing second. My heart sinking down to my belly, and I pumped my legs harder, breaking into a frantic run.
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