Page 21 of Dustin
*****
I’ve made my share of stupid, reckless decisions over the years. But this one takes the cake.
I’m in the hotel room now. There’s no one around, and Vierra has removed his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves, the picture of ease.
“You are very beautiful,” he starts.
“Thank you,” I tell him with a small smile.
Deep inside me, my stomach is a flurry of nerves. I shouldn’t have come here on my own, and I’m not liking the look in Vierra’s eyes. Not one bit.
He moves closer and sits beside me on the couch. He trails his finger down my arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake—and not the good kind.
“Who did you come to the party with?” he asks quietly.
“My boyfriend,” I answer.
Who I really should be getting back to.
His phone is on a table next to the bed. I just need to get close enough, and then I can run like hell. But I have no idea how I’m going to do that.
“He must be missing you, right?” Vierra asks as he continues moving closer.
I move back until my back meets the edge of the couch. He grins, and I force myself not to cringe. His face is not exactly what I would call handsome, plus he’s old enough to be my father.
How did I find myself in this situation?
“Relax,” Vierra says before placing his hand on my neck.
Yeah. No. I am done.
I abruptly stand and step away from him.
“You know what? You’re right. My boyfriend will be missing me, and I need to get back to the party. It was nice to meet you.”
Vierra’s eyes narrow.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
I don’t waste a second before turning around and making for the door, but when I try to open it, I find it locked.
Fucking hell.
“Like I said, darling. You’re not going anywhere,” he states, his lips curled evilly.
He advances on me and pulls me roughly toward the bed before flinging me onto it. He climbs onto the bed, and I respond with a swift kick to his stomach.
He groans, clutching it on the ground. He’s lucky I didn’t target his balls.
He swears in Portuguese, glaring at me. He quickly recovers from the kick and advances on me, his hand raised in the air like he’s ready to slap me. I close my eyes, waiting for the slap, but it never lands. I feel Vierra being pulled off me, and then I hear a loud crack and a punch.
When I open my eyes again, Vierra’s unconscious on the ground, and Dustin’s standing over him with a furious expression on his face.
I exhale in relief. I hurriedly climb off the bed and re-arrange my dress before turning to the fuming man watching me.
“I’m sorry,” I start, but he cuts me off by pulling me into his arms and wrapping me in a hug.
“Don’t ever do that again!” Dustin says, hugging me tighter.
