Caught in Us (Lost 3)

"Why don't we go celebrate? Just the two of us."

"You seemed excited about the party when I texted you."

"I know, but now I just want to be with you." He leans into me, dragging the back of his fingers on my cheek. "I love you, Dani."

"I love you, too, and I'd love to celebrate alone with you."

"Let's go."

"I just need to go to the ladies room, and then find Hazel to tell her we're leaving."

"I'll find Hazel," Damon says. "Meet me on the front porch when you're ready."

I groan when I see the line to the bathroom. I wait in line for ten minutes before I give up. A house this big must have a bathroom upstairs. It might not be polite to snoop around, but neither is peeing myself. The music is as deafening upstairs as it was in the dance room, and I quickly identify the culprits for this: two speakers. I inspect the place carefully, looking for a line—the clearest sign of a bathroom—but don't find one. There are at least a dozen couples around me making out, so when my bladder threatens to explode, I finally just say to hell with it and go to the nearest couple. I cringe when I tap the girl on the shoulder. She's too preoccupied with the kiss to budge. I tap harder. Finally, she looks up at me.

"Bathroom?" I mouth, trying to appear as apologetic as possible. She nods toward the door at the end of the corridor, and I all but break into a run toward it.

When I get out a few minutes later, the music seems to have gotten even louder, and the light on the corridor dimmer. Much dimmer. I take out my phone from my purse, using it as a flashlight of sorts. I only make it a few feet before someone grabs both my arms forcefully and pulls me into a room.

Chapter Thirty-Five: Dani

My head collides painfully with wood as my aggressor pins me against the door once we're inside the room. Panic shoots through me. I try to make sense of what’s happening. It's pitch-dark, and the only thing I'm aware of besides the pain in my head is the whiff of alcohol coming off him.

A drunkard. I try not to let the panic cloud my thoughts.

"You have it all planned out, don't you?" a familiar voice asks, freezing the blood in my veins.

"Gabe," I whisper, my stomach churning so violently I fear I’ll throw up.

He jerks me away from the door and further inside the dark room. "Funny how things work out. I’ve wanted to get you alone for months, and then you walk right into this party."

"You’re selling drugs here." Remembering the girl downstairs, I taste bile at the back of my throat.

“Why, yes...excellent deduction skills." He jerks me forward, causing me to stumble and lose my balance. I bare my hands in front of my face, expecting to hit a wall, but it's my knees that take a full sting when they collide with the metal railing of a bed. I crash in it with a loud cry, clutching my knees tightly, blind from the pain.

Light suddenly assaults my eyes. Gabe has turned on a bedside lamp. In the split-second it takes me to realize this is my one shot to run away, Gabe is already over me, pinning me into the mattress. With the light on, the horror becomes even more real.

"What do you want, Gabe?"

"Cutting right to the chase, aren't you? I'll show you what I want." One of his hands shoots up under my dress, groping my inner thigh hard while his other hand keeps my wrists over my head.

"You don't want to do this," I beg.

"Oh, but I do, and I will."

"I will scream."

"Please do. Who do you think will hear you over the music?"

No one, that's who. And no one knows I’m up here. Sure, Damon will start looking for me if I don't show up soon, but that still gives Gabe plenty of time to have his way with me. I swallow hard, forcing myself to keep my head cool and consider my options. I weigh about half as much as him, and with my hands trapped, I can't push him off. His knees are pinned at either side of my legs, his crotch right above my knees.

"You think you're tough, don’t you? Cornering a girl, using your strength to subdue me?" I push my head up to him as much as I can, sharp pain twitching in my arms. It achieves the effect I was hoping for. Gabe takes his hand away from my thigh, groping my chin instead.

"You—” he begins. I swing my left knee upward fast and hard, hitting him squarely in the crotch. "Fuck!" Gabe screams every profanity at me as his body involuntarily bends, releasing his grip on me. I push him off me, slamming my elbow in his jaw. I scramble out of the bed, my feet trembling dangerously. I make a run for the door, and almost make it. Even though I know no one will hear me over the deafening music outside, I scream for help. No one arrives. I hear Gabe behind me, but I'm less than a foot away, and my hand shoots forward, clasping the doorknob. Then Gabe fists my hair, pulling me and throwing me on the bed again. My head lolls back, giving me whiplash. By the time I see straight again, Gabe is on top of me already. "Bitch." Something's not right, though. He doesn't have me trapped like before. Yes, he's leaning over me, but my hands are free. That's when I feel something against my neck. It's cold and sharp—the blade of a knife.

"If I were you, I wouldn't move."

"I won't," I assure him, dread creeping deep into my bones. There is no fighting him off now. My breath comes out in a rush.