Page 140 of The Pact

Rob stops when he gets to my mouth, his gaze dropping to them as his tongue darts out to wet his lips. My heart races. Despite the blood rushing to my head and throwing my world out of focus, I realize he’s left my arms fairly free.

His mouth crushes mine. He presses his body against me, making it hard to breathe. I need to be smart about my escape. There’s two of them and I’ll only get one chance.

My hands come up and I scratch at Rob’s face. It hardly phases him. He grabs my wrists easily and pins them above my head as he laughs. His other hand grips my face, pulling my head forward before slamming it back against the concrete.

Spots appear in my vision and pain spreads over the back of my skull. Rob digs his fingers in hard as his tongue pushes past my lips and the taste of alcohol assaults me. His thigh shoves between my legs, forcing them open. Fuck, my dress. I’ve made it too easy for him.

He slides his hand down the front of my dress until he gets to the hem. A sickly smile twists over his mouth. “I bet you have a real pretty pussy. Don’t you?”

I let out a guttural sob as his hand disappears under my dress. He lightly brushes his finger over the front of my panties, giving the illusion of gentleness. Then he slips his hand between the fabric and my skin until he’s sliding his fingers over me roughly. I’m going to be sick.

My body trembles under his touch. Rob isn’t fazed by it. His lips continue to move against mine, trying to pull an ounce of reciprocation from me.

I hear the distinct sound of a zipper and my teary eyes fixate on Matt, who’s undoing his pants. This is it. I need the element of surprise. I bite down on Rob’s bottom lip so hard that blood spills into my mouth. The pain of it makes him drop my wrists and pull back just enough.

“Fucking bitch. She bit me.” His hand comes up to his mouth, smearing red over his cheek as he wipes it.

I use all of my force to push away from him and run. My ankle screams at me with every step, but I don’t care.

My hand dives into my satchel, blindly feeling for my keys. When I find them, I try to focus on finding the one for the studio. So close, the doors are within reach.

Slamming into the glass, I fumble to get the key into the hole, but it’s dark and the pain in my head makes it hard to do the simple task. I jab the metal at the lock and miss once, twice, three times. I hear footsteps bearing down on me. Taking a breath, I steady my hand, pushing the key forward once more and sliding it in. Frantically, I turn it and swing open the door before slamming it closed and locking it.

I want to feel safe in the studio, although I don’t know what these men will do to get inside. They come to a stop in front of the door as I slowly back away. Rob smacks his palms against the glass.

“You don’t know what you’re fucking in for. You could have just taken it, paid the price. But now…” His hand slaps the glass again and I jump. Sobs rack my body. “Now, I’m going to destroy you.”

I run down the hallway to the bathroom and lock myself inside, sliding down the door and pulling my phone out of my bag. Finding my recent calls list, I push buttons, needing one of them to answer.

Please pick up. Please pick up. Cole doesn’t answer. Damian doesn’t answer. I send a message in the group chat.

Me: Help!! Attacked. At studio.

Almost instantly, I see Wesley’s name pop up on my phone. Relief floods over me.

“We’re coming. Are you safe?” His voice is strained with anger and fear.

I try to calm myself, but can’t. “I-I don’t know. They’re banging on the door. I’m in the bathroom. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know,” I repeat. My words are tearful and barely intelligible.

“Shhhh,” he soothes. “Stay on the phone with me. We’re almost there. We won’t let anything happen to you.” I hear him breathing hard, as if he’s running. In the background, I hear other voices—angry, worried, determined. “Thea, I’m going to ask you something and I need you to be honest. Can you do that?”

“Mhm.”

Wesley doesn’t speak for a moment and I wonder if he heard me. “Did they hurt you?”

I can’t lie. My head pounds, my wrists ache, and where he touched me, between my legs... I feel numb. “Yes,” I reply in barely a whisper.

I think I must be on speaker because I hear the engine of their car roar at my response.

“We’re coming. They won’t hurt you again.” I can feel the promise in his voice and even though I know there is nothing he can do to protect me right now, the tightness in my chest loosens a little.

I stay on the phone with him. Turning on the sink faucet, I try to drown out the banging and the yelling. I crawl into the corner of the bathroom, tucking my knees into my chest.

“We’re almost there,” Wes keeps saying, yet it feels like eternity. Finally, I hear the words that send a powerful wave of relief through me. “We’re here, Thea.”

48

WESLEY

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