Page 15 of Unleashing Chaos

I slide my hands up his chest and gently push against him, putting a little space between us as I mumble a thank-you. The dance floor is so crowded that I don’t see any easy path away, so I settle for pulling my lower body back so his thigh isn’t touching me anymore. But he doesn’t seem to take the hint.

He slides his hands under my jacket, roaming freely over my rib cage. The space between us disappears again, and this time he leans in so close to me that his lips are dangerously close to meeting mine.

“I want to take you back to my place and get you out of these pants.”

Anger at his presumption and, as much as I hate to admit it, fear bubble up within me. As a princess of Infernis I’d always been under a certain amount of protection, but now I’m on my own, not to mention I can’t use all my strength if I am going to remain undercover. And I must remain undercover. I can’t screw this up and get caught performing some superhuman feat.

I push him with a stronger hand and step away, bumping into the couple behind me. “Please don’t touch me like that. I won’t be going home with you,” I say, turning away from him to walk off, but he grips my wrist and yanks me back toward him.

“I asked you to dance. You said yes. You wear these tight jeans, low-cut top that shows half your tits, and then you tell me you don’t want me to touch you?” he hisses, his mouth against my ear again. “I call bullshit.”

I twist my wrist, trying to pull it from his grasp, but he holds tight. “None of that gives you permission to grope me,” I snap.

“I’m just dancing with you, sweetheart. Quit overthinking it.” He wedges his thigh between mine again, and I swiftly draw up my knee, planting it dead center in the juncture of his legs.

Patrick moans and doubles over, his hand gripping his smashed testicles.

Meredith was right. That worked.

I push through the crowd and run to the back of the club. A blue neon sign over a hallway reads RESTROOMS. Before I duck inside, I glance over my shoulder and see Patrick charging through the crowd toward me, fury burning in his eyes.

Women stand at the sink playing with their lipstick and finger-combing their hair, but they pay no attention to me as I slip into the last stall and lock it behind me. My heart pounds so hard it makes my stomach churn. I lean against the wall and close my eyes while I catch my breath. In over a century of existence I’ve witnessed all kinds of debauchery, but none of it compares to what that man tried to force on me.

In Infernis, things like that simply don’t happen. Demons and chaotic energies may get greedy and end up in trouble for petty theft, commit mischievous deeds when their pride is damaged and they just want to be a dick to the person they feel wronged them, or even get into fights in dark alleys sometimes when they let their wrath consume them. But never, ever does anyone put their hands on another being in an intimate way without permission. My father would never allow it, nor would his father before him, and back and back down the line all the way to the beginning of time. And he has taught Lux to abide by that law. Ever since I can remember, the prince of Lust has been taught the importance of consent. Any demon or energy who didn’t follow suit would be damned to nothingness.

Having a man touch me like that without permission is a complete shock. Fight, flight, or freeze? I did all three tonight, I suppose, but now I’m stuck here in the bathroom because I can’t go back out there; I know he’ll be waiting.

Sliding my hand in my back pocket, I retrieve my phone and stare at the blank screen. I have three people I could call—one is annoyed with me, one is at work, and the other is having her one date night a month without the kids. I refuse to be the one to mess that up. Meredith has been talking about this date all week.

I take the most comfortable option and call Cannon, but he doesn’t answer.

“Dammit,” I mumble, firing off a text.

Cannon, I know you’re working, but I really need you to answer. I’m in kind of a bad spot and I need your help.

I stare at my phone for a good five minutes, but he doesn’t answer. I wait, and wait, and wait, and eventually, I forget where I am and slump onto the toilet, my head in my hands.

There is only one other person I can text, and I really don’t want to. Jace and I are hardly friends, and this is sort of a “phone a friend” situation. But Cannon isn’t getting back to me.

Maybe Patrick isn’t even out there anymore. Maybe he’s given up. I start to come out of the stall when I hear two women enter the bathroom talking in hushed tones.

“Did you see that guy out there?”

“Yeah, he looks pissed.”

“I think someone kicked him in the balls,” the first one says, stifling a laugh.

“He probably deserved it. He looks like one of those tools who thinks he can touch whoever he wants whenever he wants.”

So that’s a thing that happens a lot here. That’s unfortunate.

“He’s clearly posted up waiting for someone.”

Their voices fade as they head back outside, and I close my eyes, taking a deep breath before typing a text to my other roommate.

Jace, are you awake?

He answers almost immediately.

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