Page 14 of Desperate Measures

And Shelly? She was the best person I knew.

Her kindness and warmth radiated from her, making anyone feel at ease.

Seriously, she was more like family than just a friend.

We practically lived in each other’s pockets, even through the chaos of grad school and med school. She meant the world to me, and I was so happy to be celebrating our successes together.

“We got them too!” Aella said, shaking her wrist for us all to see.

The rest of our group arrived shortly, and after introductions were made, all bets were off.

We danced.

We drank.

We danced some more.

The DJ was so good. The music on point. The place was packed, and the crowd was fantastic. Young, energized, and fun as fuck.

Even though I grew up in Manhattan, my life was pretty sheltered. That tended to happen when your father was Adrik Volkov.

But I wasn’t a baby anymore. So, when the DJ shined the spotlight on me and declared me the winner of some sort of prize. I didn’t hesitate. Laughter rang out behind me as I ran to the booth to claim my treasure.

Only, what I found behind that one way glass door wasn’t a trophy.

It was a nightmare.

I was just too stupid and naïve to know better.

Chapter 4-Michaela

Still in the flashback....

“Stop it! No!” I yelled, but the sound was muffled as my attacker pressed his sweaty palm over my face.

“Come on. Don’t play hard to get,” he said, breathing heavy against my ear.

Revulsion filled me. The room was dark, strobe lights bouncing off the walls, and he wore tinted glasses, hiding his eyes.

“Fuck you! Get off me,” I said and spat at him, bucking against his hold and knocking his glasses off his face.

His eyes were cold, unfeeling, glazed with drug use. I shivered as they zeroed in on me like a shark stalking his prey.

“Bitch!” he yelled and slapped me, hard.

My face stung, and whatever buzz I’d been feeling earlier left in an instant.

“You were asking for it out there, you fucking slut! Shaking that fat ass in front of my booth all fucking night. Just another rich bitch, prancing around here in your designer clothes, showing off,” he said with his lips so close to my face, his foul breath made me gag.

“I wasn’t showing off. I was just having fun,” I cried.

I was so damn mad.

And scared.

I was both.

Mad at him for the words he used.