Page 15 of Desperate Measures

For thinking me dancing with my cousins was some sort of invitation for him to touch me like this.

Scared because he was stronger than me. And clearly, the guy had a broken moral compass.

Oh God. No.

His big hands squeezed my body, bruising me. I struggled, but he was bigger than me, and he shoved me around with my back to him, his grimy hands tugging on my skirt.

“No! I said no!” I repeated, wishing I was anywhere else.

Terror seized my throat and tears pricked my eyes.

Was this what they meant when they talked about fear? Likereal fear?

I’d never felt it before. Never had to.

I’d been pampered and protected all my life. But I’d stupidly sent my bodyguard to the front of the club and there was no way he’d have heard the DJ single me out and invite me back to his booth.

Stupid, Micky. So fucking stupid.

Just when I thought this was it, something happened.

I got lucky.

DJ Masters—stupid fucking name—couldn’t do more than tear my dress and paw at me before the door to his booth opened again to reveal a stunning, slender redhead and her entourage.

She looked familiar, and I could tell by the way she narrowed her eyes, she recognized me, too.

“What the fuck you doing? You can’t be in here,” my would be abuser snapped, wiping his face where I spat at him earlier.

“Fuck. Take care of him,” the woman said to the two men bracketing her.

Then she turned to face me, “Let’s get out of here, Little Wolf. You don’t want to see this.”

“T-thank you. You stopped him from—” I paused, shivering as revulsion rolled through me.

“Easy. Come on, we can go to my VIP room till you feel better,” she said, and pulled me along with her around the booth to a private hallway.

Fuck.

Why did this have to happen?

“Did he rape you?” the woman asked point blank when we entered her VIP room.

“What? No. But I think he might have tried,” I said, and closed my eyes as I tried to process that.

“You’ll need some therapy,” she pointed out. “But physically you look okay. A little bruised.”

“Um, thanks. I mean, it’s stupid to feel this way. You got there in time,” I said, feeling guilty and foolish for being so upset.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You have every right to feel as you do.”

“I should get back?—”

“Why don’t you take a minute? Sit down. At least, wait until you stop shaking first,” she said, pointing to my trembling hands.

The woman who saved me was right. I needed a minute, or my cousins would know what happened. I didn’t want that. Didn’t need them reporting back to their parents who would, of course, tell mine.

My parents were so overprotective of me, it was all I could do to convince them to live alone after I finished grad school.