Chapter 9 09 | run

It took a while before my brain registered what was going on.

Finn was kissing me.

The contact sent a wave of heat coursing through my body, my skin coming alive, very aware of him. I suddenly became numb to everything else but him. The water, the surprised howls of the other people around the pool. And most of all, my ability to think.

His lips were soft and warm, his tongue tracing the seams of my lips, seeking entrance. I gave in and kissed him back, my head screaming a million warnings but I shoved them behind. I was entranced, and my mind went blank when his tongue made contact with mine. His mouth moved with more expertise than mine and my hands snaked their way behind his head, greedily taking the hair at the nape of his neck.

"You drive me so fucking crazy," he muttered, sending me over the edge.

When his hands grabbed my thighs and banded them around his waist and I let out a moan, I broke off. This was going far, too fast.

"Amanda?" Finn called, voice thick with lust. I shook his voice out of my head and in a flash, pushed myself way from him and swam the opposite direction, towards the stairway.

I felt his hands grip my waist as he easily caught up to me. I turned to him so fast my hair whipped against his face.

"I need to go." I bit out, wriggling futilely against his grip.

"What's wrong?"

"Just let me go, dammit!" I yelled, tears welling up in my eyes. His eyebrows came together at my outburst, and in that moment I wished I could explain to him why I was acting this way. That my anxiety and paranoia was insurmountable. But doing that would just make us even more entwined than we already were.

His eyes searched my face, lips red and swollen from the kiss. I could only imagine what I looked like. God, no. I needed to get away from him. His hold on me loosened and I climbed out, skipping up the stairs two at a time until I reached the top. Low voices emanated from below and I guessed his friends were asking him what was going on. I hadn't even talked with anyone, except the blond who had been all over him. They must've thought I was a crazy person. I threw on my clothes haphazardly, ignoring how they stuck to my wet skin and underwear.

Finn was right behind me, putting his own clothes on. I walked ahead and got out of the house, down the driveway and past the line of sport cars until I got to his bike. I swiped furiously on the screen of my phone, nervous fingers ice cold and unfeeling, in an effort to avoid conversing with him.

Finn got on the bike without a word and avoiding eye contact, I sat behind him, wrapping my hands around his body. Now he couldn't see my face, my resolve softened and I held tight, leaning my head against his back. I hated that I loved the feeling that he gave me. In just one night he'd dug into the shell I hid myself in and yanked me out without a warning. I couldn't handle that.

The ride back to his house was silent. Even as we got off, no words were uttered. His expression was cold and uninviting, like it had been the days after I met him and I found myself missing the person he'd been earlier at the pool.

My car was parked in one of the spaces, accident damages fixed. He handed me my keys and his hand made brief contact with mine in the process. I wanted to say something, but what? This was exactly what I wanted, wasn't it?

I slipped the keys into the ignition and brought the car to life, driving out of the parking lot without looking back.

*

Morgan wiggled a bottle of champagne in my face, an invitation to take a drink. I politely shook my head in decline since we would be having enough alcohol at the club anyway.

Ingrid had convinced me to go on a girls' night out with Morgan, a friend of hers I didn't know all that well, and seated at my dresser table applying another layer of liquid liner over my eyelids, I had ample time to rethink my decision.

"Anyone got plans on hooking up with a random stranger tonight?" Morgan asked, slipping her lean body into a paper thin dress that I regarded too sinful to even glance at. The red see-through material did nothing to conceal her underwear.

To be honest, I didn't really like Morgan. She was snarky, only ever talked about getting into a guy's pants and always made sure to get her way with everything. Ingrid felt this need to carry her along because they were childhood friends from back home, kind of the way Nate and I were. I endured for her sake.

"I'm in a relationship. Thank you, next." Ingrid said half mindedly as she tossed her hair in the mirror. She had on a green strapless dress that ended just above the knee, not as inappropriate as Morgan's attire but still revealing.

"And it's been what, three days? We all know how that's going to end," she commented with a curve of her lips. Ingrid rolled her eyes. "How about you, Amanda? You're not dating anyone, are you?" Morgan's dark eyes fixated on me and I mentally cringed.

"I'm not, but also not a fan of things as spontaneously random as hook-ups at nightclubs."

"Oh, ok." Morgan shrugged and turned away from me in instant dismissal and I shook my head.

Morgan knew a friend who was able to snag her VIP tickets to an exclusive club that opened just last week in the heart of the city. As we walked into the building, the name The Box glowed in luminescent lights that were blinding as we neared the entrance.

In the midst of a crowd of people clamoring to get in, Morgan flashed the scary, meaty bouncer our tickets and he pulled open the barrier, beckoning us in. Ingrid let out an animalistic howl of excitement as we sauntered in through a long, dark corridor and into a brightly lit room.

The place was jam packed, clusters of bodies on the dance floor and the bar filled. We stopped at the bar first, Morgan ordering a shot each for the three us. I groaned on the second round as the liquid left a hot trail down my throat, a buzz building up within me.

After the last shots and with our sobriety gradually slipping away, two guys approached our group. Morgan seemed to know them, hugging and chatting excitedly with them over the loud music.

"So, these are my friends-Ingrid," she motioned at Ingrid who gave a flirtatious wave, "and Amanda," she pointed at me and I muttered a little hi.

"You girls look hot," The taller, blond haired one said. He was cute, but I got the feeling that he was more interested in getting laid more than anything else tonight.

My gaze wandered to the other guy who as I came to realize, was really built and tanned. He stared at me a lot, which I found really uncomforting. Especially with the unsettling smile he had on.

Without any warning at all, Morgan slipped away and disappeared into the cluster of dancers, leaving Ingrid and I with the guys.

Ingrid and Mr blond hair dove into a conversation really quickly, and even though she'd said earlier that she had a boyfriend, she still left with him anyway. Which left me with the tanned guy.

"I'm Constantine, but my friends call me Stan." He said, flashing me his unnaturally pearly whites.

Well, hello, Constantine, I thought darkly.

I had not anticipated meeting anyone, only wanting to have a few drinks and be out of my apartment for something that didn't have to do with school. Morgan and Ingrid were nowhere to be seen and I guessed they were already humping like rabbits in the bathrooms. I sighed in resignation. Maybe this man would be likable with each second I spent in his company.

Constantine led me back to the bar and I watched him order a couple drinks.

"So tell me a little about yourself, Amanda." He said, eyeing me with avid interest. I told him as little as possible-the way I always did with strangers-but made it sound like a lot. I mentioned where I came from, my university and what I was studying. As an added bonus I talked a lot about my relationship with Ingrid and Morgan, even though I knew he couldn't care less.

"Well, I work as a gym instructor on weekdays but I do a lot of freelance writing."

My ears perked up at the latter. I had to admit, I felt a certain affinity towards people who were literary gifted. As he began speaking more and more on what he wrote about, which unsurprisingly centered around health and fitness, I found myself warming up towards him. I stopped counting the number of glasses I downed when I got to the fourth.

"Care to dance?" Constantine asked, his hands stretched out to me. I stared at his open palm and felt an awful sense of déjà vu. I got pulled back to the night at that dinner when Finn asked me to dance.

I was pissed at myself for bringing him up. It was a week after the pool incident occurred and since the moment I left that parking lot, we hadn't been in contact since. I sucked in my lower lip as I recalled the kiss and the way his lips felt on mine.

"Amanda?" Constantine's voice shook me from my daze and I blinked up at him. His hand was still outstretched.

"Yeah," I tried not to sound so detached, placing my hand in his. He led me to the dance floor and with me being already drunk out of my mind, it was easy to melt into the tune and not bother about getting my moves wrong.

Constantine wasn't a bad dancer, but instead of just... casually dancing like I'd hoped, he circled around me and tried to grind his crotch against my ass. With my thoughts elsewhere, I pushed him off but he found his way back.

"Uh, I'm feeling dizzy, let's return to the bar." I said, my palm on my forehead. He nodded and took me back, asking the bartender for a couple glasses of mimosas.

I knew I shouldn't be drinking more with the way I was buzzed, but regardless I lifted the rim of the glass to my mouth anyway. It tasted sweet and I emptied the cup in seconds.

Constantine brought his lips close to my ear and I recoiled. "You look exhausted. There's a section of the VIP area that's quiet and a lot less crowded."

I ignored his heavily alcohol laden breath and nodded. "That would be nice."

I stood shakily and allowed him guide me by my waist into a large room that was unarguably more serene. Here people sat on couches sipping drinks and having conversations. The only con was the lightning. It was much duller than the previous room, making it difficult to see things or people with clarity.

We sat down on a couch and he tried ordering more alcoholic drinks, but I asked for water instead.

"I'm surprised you held on till now. I pinned you as a lightweight." Constantine joked, his body gradually inching towards mine. When our drinks came I appreciatively uncapped the bottle and gulped down half of the refreshing liquid. I caught Constantine staring at me, his attention on my lips.

"What? Do I have something on my face?" I slurred.

I was shocked when he leant in and kissed me, knocking the breath out of my lungs. He was assertive and tasted awful, and against my protests he didn't stop, trying to coerce me into the kiss. He held my hips and pulled me against his body. My eyes began to water as his hands grazed my exposed thigh.

In a desperate resort, I bit his lip and he jerked back, cursing out loud.

"Are you crazy? Morgan said I could fuck you and I'm not going to leave this goddamn place until I do," he growled, grabbing my arms roughly.

I flinched at his words and the way he handled me, frantic as tears began to stream down my face. My body didn't fare well with so much alcohol in its system. I shouldn't have come here in the first place. I only came here because Ingrid assured me everything would be fine and it would just be us girls. Not this.

"Let me go!" I yelled and jumped up, trying to find my way out of the room as I stumbled around, drunk and on heels. Relieved that he wasn't following me, I returned to the bar and fished for my phone out of my bag. The room spun, everything and everyone becoming a blur of colors and sounds as I struggled to stay on my feet. I was a mess. My face was tear-stained, undoubtedly ruining my make-up and I was on the verge of a breakdown.

With a lot of difficulty fumbling my phone I dialed Ingrid and when she picked up, I exploded.

"Ingrid, I need to go. Right now." I couldn't help the tears that choked my voice. "Morgan told that bastard he could have sex with me and I just want to go home. Please, where are you?"

"Amanda?"

The voice on the other line wasn't Ingrid's.

"Are you drunk?"

"Where's Ingrid?" I asked, guessing it was the blond guy she'd left with.

"Who's Ingrid?" The male, husky voice sounded confused and angry all at once. I was too drunk to get my bearings straight. "Amanda, where are you?"

"Where you are, stupid," my voice came out smudged and nearly incoherent. "The club."

"What's the name of the club?"

"I don't know. Cube? The cube. Some shit like that."

"The box?"

"Yeah, that one. Ingrid, I don't think I can stay awake any longer. Constantine is being a dick. He made me cry and my pretty make-up's all ruined now. I want to go home." I felt my eyelids start to get heavy and my stomach churn.

Don't puke, don't puke.

"Stay where you are." I heard, then the line went off.

I looked at my phone's screen and squinted at the name I'd just dialed. Everything danced in my vision in doubles, triples, but I was able to make it out.

It was Finn's.

I fell asleep immediately after.

I felt somebody's hand grab mine and when I opened my eyes, a head splitting headache hit me. One glance at the person and my blood curdled.

"I've been looking everywhere for you," Constantine said and drew me up from my barstool, his hands wrapping around my waist. I struggled to shove him away and mumbled incoherently, unable to find my footing. I just wanted to sleep for a thousand years. And pee. I needed to pee badly.

Everybody else was oblivious of the two of us, the bartenders busy tending to customer's orders and fellow party goers doing what they knew best-partying.

"Let... go," I mumbled, my uncoordinated arms pushing against his chest.

"I'll let you go soon, sweet cheeks. Real soon." His voice felt like sandpaper against my ears. The club's music was still throbbing and I felt bile rise up my throat. Relentless and as if he was too brain dead to process information, he brought his lips to mine and I shifted to avoid his terrible mouth on mine again.

"Hey! Let her go!" A yell came. And then, a loud crack, followed by a thud.

Blinking like a loon, a turned to the ground from where the sound came and saw Constantine, a lump of flesh on the floor, unconscious. People around stopped partying and turned to us. I looked up and saw a man with a baseball cap hiding most of his features. But those electric green eyes were unmistakable.

Security burst through the crowd and I slumped to the ground, passing out for the second time that night.