Page 114 of Chasing the Wild
As it all winds through my blood, with heavy scents of perfume and sour beer and sugary liquor hanging in the air, I feel the bump of a hard body against my back.
Ignoring it, I carry on swaying. I’m not interested in dancing with anyone here tonight. Well, with the exception of Colton Wilder. Each time I crack my eyelashes open, my eyes now heavy with the way those devilish pre-birthday celebration shots have diluted my bloodstream, I see some of the other girls in the group beginning to pair off with guys who are guiding them to dance, to press close. Hands wrapping around waists and fingers exploring muscled shoulders. Squeezing my eyes shut does nothing to erase the fact that I want that.
What I would give for the set of capable hands I know so well to slip around my waist from behind. For his strong torso to press up against my spine. For our hips to fit together, giving our bodies a chance to find that natural, instinctive rhythm we have.
Is Colt a dancer? I don’t even know. He probably would never, but Jesus, the man fucks like he’d surely know how to grind against my body to the beat filling this dancefloor.
Lifting my hands up, I run them through my hair to lift my curls off my shoulders. Swaying and swinging my hips, soft material swishes around my knees.
I wore a dress tonight. My favorite that I own. It’s white and has cute little puffed sleeves with a ruched midriff that makes my boobs look incredible. I run my hands down to where it hugs my waist perfectly. This dress is far more girlie summer-picnic-vibes than a night out in a bar in early spring, but fuck it, I feel incredible whenever I wear it.
Colt told me to wear something that makes me feel pretty, and goddamn this dress never lets me down.
I didn’t wear it forhimas such, but I can’t deny thinking about him the entire time I was getting dressed tonight. And holy fuck, I just wish the cowboy in question could come and slide his hands over my waist and murmur hotly in my ear just how pretty he thinks I look in it right now.
Another bump up against me jolts my attention, this time coming from the other side. My eyes pop open, because,rude.I know it’s crowded, and most people dancing right now are drunk, but it’s going to get old real fast if I’m getting jostled around too badly.
“Have a drink with me.” A man’s voice is just over my shoulder. He’s not talking to me, but it feels uncomfortably close and makes my neck prickle.
“What about your friend?” Another voice comes from the other side of where I’m swaying around. I realize they’re talking to one of the girls from the group I’ve ended up dancing with tonight. She giggles, clearly wasted, and tugs on my elbow.
“Yeah, it’s my friend Layla’s birthday. We’ll have a drink with you.”
I want to immediately say no, but it’s when I turn around that my brain draws a blank at the scene in front of me.
The young girl, whose name I didn’t catch when it was being shouted earlier amongst the music, is tipping her head back and downing the drink she’s been given. There’s a tumbler beingpressed into my hand, and whoever is responsible tries to guide it up to my mouth.
For whatever reason, I’m slow to react, but I know that I won’t be letting that drink anywhere near me. The lights are so dim. Flashes and pulses of a strobe keep getting in my eyes, preventing me from seeing clearly. But that’s when it hits me. The subtle waft of that cigarette smell, and I already know. Even though I can’t see their faces, and I never did see the man who cornered me the night of the bonfire. Spiders crawl over my skin because I’m certain it’s them.
And the girl beside me has just gulped down whatever was in that fucking drink one of them gave her.
I can’t breathe. It’s so crowded, and the dance floor is a crush on all sides. Bodies that are way taller than me suck the oxygen from my lungs. Not to mention these two men—who I’m certain are the same Piersons who have been fucking with the ranch—the ones who have been threatening Colt’s livelihood and who, from all accounts, like to prey on unsuspecting girls, both tower over me to the point I can’t really make out their faces in the shadows.
“Go on. Be good like your friend here, since it’s your birthday and all.” The drink is shoved toward my mouth forcefully, and I manage to slap it away. Most of it spills on the man holding it, and he curses.
“Fucking stupid bitch.”
“Oh, I remember this one. You’re Wilder’s little plaything aren’t you?” The creep who got in my face that day up at the ranch, Henrik, leers at me.
“She was a rude little cock tease up at the bonfire, too. Now that’s not very nice, throwing a tantrum like that. We’re just talking.”
My throat tightens. These men know exactly who I am, and if the fact they’ve been going after Colt on his property is anythingto go by, I don’t need to be a genius to figure out that they’re unlikely to leave me alone. They might not know the truth of our connection, but they know I’m another way to mess with Colt, and potentially hurt him in the process.
“Looks like you still needfeeding right, girlie.”
“Fuck off.” I try to turn toward the girl who has probably been drugged, but one of them grabs my arm.
What I would give for that gun Colt taught me how to shoot, so I could tell these assholes to back the hell away. Because something tells me with a sick, twisting feeling in my gut that this is exactly how easy it is for these two to prey on girls and get away with it time and time again.
It all makes sense now. Why he was so insistent about me knowing how to protect myself if I ever needed to up on that mountain. Why he was concerned about me being left on my own without a way to ensure something like this couldn’t happen.
Except right now, I’m surrounded by people, and it’s the perfect cover for their particular method of targeting girls.
It’s too easy to hide amongst dark lights and loud music and drinks flowing freely.
The grip I’m held by is so hard that it stings. The other man tugs the girl, who is much younger than me, out of reach, cutting her off and starts to lead her away.
They split us up with gut-sickening efficiency.
