It was the day of the West Woods party, and surprisingly classes had passed in a blur. I was still brushing off my encounter with Damon. Something about it felt … weird. I wasn't even scared of him, but I've always found him fascinating. He was the richest and most powerful person in the student body, yet he was never a concern to me.
Don't get me wrong I was always scared to be in his presence, but I realized as I passed by him in the halls, that he had zero intention to make my life a living hell … unlike his step-brother.
He was never entirely a part of Marcus's friend group. When he was in his dorm, Marcus would never be his sadistic-self, more like a tamed version. Almost to show Damon he wasn't tormenting me. But Damon wasn't stupid, he knew very well what they were doing, which is why he hated it when he saw me and would instantly kick me out.
But it wasn't from pity or annoyance. It was something I couldn't describe.
As I headed to the Velvet Room to meet Marcus, I was suddenly stopped by a pair of hands. I spun around, startled, and found myself face-to-face with Atlas, his wool coat draped elegantly over his uniform. "Anna!" he exclaimed, his surprise mirroring my own.
"Shit," I muttered under my breath. I'd been avoiding Atlas since the beginning of the semester. Luckily for me, he wasn't clingy about wanting to be friends. He would wave and smile at me during the start of class but would hang out with his new group of friends and a few guys from the athletics department.
"Hi, Atlas," I said, catching the gym bag he slung over his shoulder.
"I'm just heading to practice," he explained. "Got scouted by the football team again—glad they took me back."
"I'm happy for you," I replied.
"Where are you headed?" he asked.
"The library," I lied.
"Oh, cool! Maybe we can study together there some time," he suggested, his enthusiasm making my heart flutter.
"Yeah, I'd like that," I expressed, a smile tugging at my lips.
We shared a moment of eye contact before Atlas awkwardly scratched his head. "Well, I better get going. See you around."
"Wait, Atlas," I called out, stopping him. He had this wolfish like smile, and I saw the way his eyes brightened whenever I called him. It was cute. "Why did you join the classics department?"
Silence blew in the wind as I watched him hesitate. I didn't know what I was expecting, but I definitely didn't expect a shrug. "I… I like to read."
"Seriously?" I asked, surprised.
"It's true!" he insisted.
"Well okay," I said with a chuckle. We laughed together, and as Atlas walked away, I continued to the academic center, feeling oddly better.
—
I entered the Velvet Room to see Kash, Blair, Jennie, and Marcus doing lines of cocaine on the coffee table.
I wanted to puke, but I held back.
"Where the fuck has Issac been?" Marcus heaved. "Haven't seen that asshole in days."
"He's getting ready for his seasonal holiday," Blair said, rubbing her nose. "Y'know? The West Woods party."
For the next forty-five minutes, I watched the four continuously talk about Damon and his relation to Mrs. Margot. Marcus had done his research, informing us of her address, her career, her marriage, and everything that Mrs. Margot did ten years before she came to work at Aldridge. Not that it was really research, I assume he knew all about it when they were sleeping together.
"Did you know she was assigned to the school by recommendation of Damon's father?" He hissed. "She was put here to be close to him—it fucking sickens me."
Blair rose after doing another line. "How do you know they're fucking though? What if … she's genuinely a good teacher and he's her good student—"
Blair couldn't finish her sentence before Marcus back-handed her, his golden ring colliding with Blair's nose causing her to bleed.
"Shit," Kash hissed.
"What the fuck!" Blair screamed, the blood getting on her open blouse.
Marcus was fuming, ready to flip the table. "That's what fucking happens when you say stupid shit, Blair! Obviously, they're fucking! There's nothing else to it but that!"
Kash groaned and Blair wiped a tear, Jennie was too stoned to do anything. They were all clearly sick of Marcus's bullshit.
Marcus went on and on about Damon, how he simply wasn't answering his texts or refusing to tell him about his classes. He even said Damon hadn't been sleeping in the dorms for many nights. For a moment I genuinely thought he'd begin to explode, but she didn't seem that furious, just a child throwing a tantrum over their fallen ice cream.
As expected in the end, he lashed out, pushing me against the wall in pure rage. "So Rag? Did you see him? Who was he with?"
I tried not to tremble. "No one."
"What do you mean no one?"
"He was there alone."
I felt his slap coming but the impact shocked me anyway, and I found my eyes burning when I looked at him again with the hand-print stain on my cheek. "Don't piss me off Rag!"
I bite my lip. "He entered the room by himself. I promise you there was no one there … unless there's a different entrance that I don't know about it."
The theory was a stretch, but it seemed to get Marcus off my back as he gained a new idea. "Kash, get me a blueprint of the classic building. I need to know if that whore and his cockwarmer is being sneaky or not."
I sigh. He was going insane.
The meeting ended abruptly after that, and I went straight for the restroom, splashing my face with cold water, the pain of his slap subsiding. I then felt a buzz in my blazer pocket.
Solana
I just found you the perfect outfit!
—
I didn't like the idea of going to a party in the West Woods, dressed in a tight black spandex skirt with a red T-shirt. I felt bare and extremely cold—not to mention like a total slut. But I wasn't too bad compared to the monstrosity Solana wore in twenty degrees weather. A tight blue tank top and ripped denim shorts that cut at her ass. The crazy girl even had the audacity to try and get me to wear one of her heels. Thankfully she let me stick to my combat boots—which was perfect since I planned to leave the party as soon as I can.
It was a friday night, the classics building was close to the woods, which meant the perfect time to go investigate Damon. He'd most likely not be there, but I hadn't thought about entering the room myself—it should've been one the first things that I did and I felt like an idiot for not having thought of it sooner.
I'd make sure to find out what he was hiding.
Solana and I were bundled in our coats as we walked through the campus, shivering. "You could've at least let me wear tights," I hissed.
Solana rolled her eyes, breathing into her hands. "Tights aren't sexy," she hissed at me. "Unless theyre fishnet."
I rolled my eyes.
After a grueling walk through the quad, the sky was pitch black, and we saw Jake waiting by the entrance trail to West Wood, in a fancy leather coat, white blazer, Jordan's, and black jeans. His eyes went wide when he saw Solana.
The moment they saw each other, they went into make-out mode, and I had to turn away before gauging my eyes out. Fucking animals.
We walked through the dark and eerie woods, the silence making me nervous. Jake was going on about his football practices, as Solana listened and stared at him like she wanted to fuck right then and there. It was so sickening and my poor eyes couldn't stand it.
Thankfully we made it to the cabin—a giant multi-million dollar three story monstrosity of a cabin. Everyone was crowded around the entrance and the few yards of land around it, drinking and chatting—a couple people literally having sex in the bushes. I walked behind Jake and Solana as they greeted a few people on the porch. Issac was by the porch greeting everyone like some charity event host.
When we entered the cabin my jaw dropped. I began to understand why Issac hadn't been around for a while. Planning a party must've taken a century and a fortune. I hadn't been to any of the Aldridge parties since freshman year—and even then it was a few dorm parties that I was invited too.
But this … this was nuts.
The room was a chaotic swirl of half-naked bodies and hazy neon lights. Colors danced together on the ceiling. In the corners, a few students huddled together, their movements slow and deliberate as they did heroin. The needle glinted briefly under the strobe lights before disappearing into a vein, while others snorted lines of cocaine with practiced ease. A few were huddled over strange drugs that I couldn't identify—probably meth—their faces a mix of desperation and exhilaration. The air was thick with the acrid scent of chemicals, mingling with the pungent odor of sweat and stale alcohol.
Everywhere I looked, people were dancing, their bodies pressed together in a sweaty, writhing mass. It was so cramped that I was pushed each step I took into the cabin. The music blared with a relentless, pulsing beat that seemed to shake the very walls. People dry humped against each other in a feverish rhythm, their faces flushed and expressions lost in the moment.
The overwhelming stench was a visceral assault on my senses. It was a rancid, heady mix of spilled beer, expensive perfume, and the heavy, pungent aroma of drugs. Each breath I took was thick with the oppressive, cloying smell, making my stomach churn. The floor was sticky underfoot, and as I tried to find my footing amidst the swirling chaos, the stench clung to me.
Solana and Jake had been swallowed up by the crowd, leaving me stranded in the middle of this madness. I stood there, feeling disoriented and sick, struggling to make sense of the overwhelming scene around me. The volume of the music, the haze of cigarette smoke, and the disarray of bodies made it impossible to find a moment of calm.
I made it to the closet empty space—the kitchen—where a few jocks were playing alcohol games on the long marble island. I sneakily bent down into the chilling bin to grab a bottle of Fanta and desperately searched for a quiet spot.
Twenty minutes must have passed since I last saw Solana. She'd vanished into the crowd, leaving me alone despite her promise to stay by my side. The sense of abandonment stung sharply, and I was looking around me in bewilderment—the drinking, the smoking, the clothed sex going on in the corners of the room … This was the school I worked so hard to get into.
"Rag!"
My body stiffened, and I turned toward the voice. Jennie was sprawled out on the long couch by the fireplace, her legs casually draped over the armrest, right next to Kash, who was lazily holding a red plastic cup. Jennie was wearing a skimpy bikini top with tight shorts, her Air Forces spotless, as if she hadn't just waded through the filth of the party. Kash, in contrast, wore a baggy sweater that hung loosely off his muscular frame, paired with faded jeans.
Besides Issac, I remembered that Marcus's group never really fit in with the party crowd—Blair had often complained that the parties were a drag because there weren't enough drugs to go around. A crazy reason, but typical of her.
As if summoned by my thoughts, Blair appeared right behind me, a bottle of beer dangling from her fingers. Her eyes raked over me, taking in my outfit with a look that bordered on disdain. Her blonde hair was styled in perfect curls, bouncing lightly with each step, and she was wearing a tight pink dress that clung to her every curve. "Holy shit, Rag. Are you here to see your sugar daddy or what?" she sneered, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
I hesitated, my words catching in my throat. "What are you all doing here?" I finally managed to ask, the question sounding more accusatory than I intended.
Blair's lips curled into a smug smile. "We thought we'd check out Isaac's party before heading back to my dorm for some coke. But… maybe we should stay a little longer."
I froze as Jennie's hands snaked up behind me, her touch sending a shiver down my spine. I turned to face her, and she was smirking, her brown hair perfectly sleek and shiny, falling just past her collarbone. She leaned in close, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. "We're getting sick of going back and forth to the kitchen for drinks. You mind doing it for us?" She asked, though it was less a question and more a command.
I hissed under my breath. Of course, they were about to make me their errand girl.
"Yeah, sure," I muttered, more to myself than to them.
Jennie clapped her hands, her smile widening. "Great! Get me some punch."
"And grab me some Doritos while you're at it," Kash chimed in, his tone casual, as if he was ordering from a menu.
"No."
I stilled, his voice sending a chill up my spine. Marcus stood behind me, holding a red cup, his gaze intense and unreadable. He wore a simple white sweater that hangs loosely on his shoulders but fit perfectly around his muscles. "Not tonight."
Jennie whipped around to face him, her expression one of genuine surprise. "Seriously?"
"You've got maids at your mansion. Let's not overdo it," he replied, his voice firm.
Jennie and Blair exchanged a glance, their faces betraying a flicker of concern before they shrugged it off and settled back into their seats next to Kash. "Whatever," Jennie muttered. "Guess we'll wait for Issac."
I turned to Marcus who was already grabbing my arm. He didn't look at his furious as he did earlier, instead, his touch was softer. "I didn't think this was your scene," he whispered.
I gulped. "It usually isn't."
His hand that held his cup reached up to touch my face and out of habit I flinched. His eyes darkened at my reaction, and his grip on my arm grew firmer. "I'm glad I didn't leave a mark," he says, his fingers slightly grazing my cheek.
"You did," I replied. "I just put foundation over it."
His grip faltered, and I took that as my chance to turn away, not even bothering to respond to Blair's annoyed call after me. I needed to get out of here, now. I shoved through the crowd, my heart pounding as I made a beeline for the door, desperate to escape this suffocating scene.
But just as I reached the entrance, I skidded to a halt. A crowd had gathered, and at the center of it was Damon. He was radiant even with his bored expression. He wore a simple dark hoodie and denim pants, he was dressed to blend into the shadows but still took up attention. His expression was one of indifference as he half-heartedly greeted people, his eyes glazed over with disinterest.
But then, his gaze locked onto mine. My heart skipped a beat, fear lancing through me as our eyes met. His shock was brief, quickly replaced by a darkening in his gray orbs that made my blood run cold. He ignored someone, simply staring at me. Even though he didn't come to me, his movements were deliberate and predatory—I was prey that'd been caught.
Shit.
I spun around, my pulse racing as I pushed past the throngs of partygoers, not caring where I was going as long as it was away from Damon. My vision blurred as I collided with a solid figure, and I looked up, my breath catching when I realized it was Marcus. His expression was one of irritation, his cup now empty, the punch splattered across the floor and staining both our shirts.
"I'm sorry," I choked out, the words tumbling from my lips as I felt the night spiraling out of control.
Marcus hissed, his jaw clenched as he stared at the mess. I braced myself for his anger, but instead, he took a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing as he composed himself. "Why'd you run away back there?" he asked, his tone more curious than accusatory.
I couldn't tell him I was terrified of Damon, or that I had plans to leave this nightmare of a party and retreat to the classics building. Instead, I deflected. "Why did you try to save me?"
"Save you from what?" he asked, his annoyance seeping back into his voice.
"From that. I usually fetch them things all the time," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.
Marcus was silent for a moment, his gaze sweeping over me in a way that made my skin prickle with unease. And then he let out a nasty scoff. "You think I'm your pal now? You think I give a fuck?" he asked, his tone sharp, almost offended.
"That wasn't—" I started to explain, but he cut me off with a bitter laugh.
Without warning, he threw the cup on the ground and grabbed my arm, his grip firm as he started pulling me through the crowded hallway. I stumbled after him, confusion and fear battling for dominance in my mind. He stopped in front of a door and banged on it. A girl opened it, a cloud of smoke billowing out from behind her.
"Can I fucking help you?" she snapped, glaring at Marcus.
"Get the fuck out," Marcus ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument.
The girl shot him a venomous look before storming off, her vape clutched tightly in her hand. Marcus dragged me inside the small, dimly lit bathroom and slammed the door shut behind us. He pushed me against the wall, his body close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off him.
My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears. "What are you doing?" I asked, my voice trembling as I stared up at him, trying to read his expression in the dim light.
He grinned mischievously. "What? You don't want to, you sure enjoyed it last time—"
I felt my body shivering as the memories came back. "Marcus …"
He took a strand of my hair and played with it. "Anna … we always have fun don't we. You don't wanna have fun now?"
He had this sparkle in his eyes that matched his face—he was tan from vacations at private islands, and had fluffy brown hair that gave him an angelic flair. Marcus was beautiful, sure, but even his face was sculpted like a fallen angel—and all fallen angels became devils.
"If I do it now then you can't request me for a while," I whisper.
His fingers traced the curve of my cheek, and I felt the heat radiating through his fingers. "If that's what you want fine," he whispered, leaning in closer, his breath brushing against my lips, "but that means you're gonna have to let me fuck you." My pulse was racing beneath his fingertips.
His lips met mine and I whimpered. His tongue slipped past my parted lips, tasting the sweetness of my mouth. His hand tangled in my curls, holding me in place as he deepened the kiss, claiming me in a way that left no room for doubt. He was marking his territory, making sure I'd be his for this night.
He tore off my clothes with rough abandon, leaving a trail of fabric on the floor. His fingers grazed my skin, sending shivers down my spine as his lips traced a path from my neck down to my breast. He took a tight nipple into his mouth, sucking on it gently before flicking it with his tongue, making me arch my back. He smiled against my skin, knowing he had me right where he wanted.
"Please what?" he murmured, his free hand sliding down my body, dipping under my waistband. "More?" he teased, letting his fingertips brush against my most intimate parts. He could feel my arousal, and it only made him more eager to satisfy me. "Tell me what you want, and I'll give it to you," he promised, his voice low and seductive. He wanted me to beg for it, to submit to him completely. I wasn't going to.
He pressed his hips against mine, letting me feel the hard bulge in his pants. He grinned wickedly as he heard me gasp, knowing I could feel every inch of his desire. "You like that, don't you?" he growled in my ear, his breath hot against my skin. He reached around, cupping my breast, feeling my nipple harden under his touch. His hand slid down my body, slipping it under my skirt, feeling my wetness through my thong. "You really fucking like that," he purred, rubbing my clit gently. "I'm going to make you scream my name."
Pulling my thong aside, he lined up his throbbing cock with my slick entrance. He looked into my eyes, seeing the desire and fear intermingled in them before he thrust into me, filling me completely. I gasped, my body arching back into him. "Oh fuck...!"
He held on to my hips, setting a relentless pace, driving into me with each thrust. The bathroom echoed with the slap of his skin smacking against mine, the music blasting over the wet slaps of his thrusts. He gripped my hair, pulling it back, as he claimed my mouth in another searing kiss, our tongues dueling as our bodies collided. I was his, and he was going to make sure I understood that.
"That's it, take it," he growled, feeling my body tremble beneath him. He gripped my leg, lifting it higher, letting him slam into my cunt deeper. I could feel my release building, the need to submit to him completely overwhelming me. "Cum for me," he demanded, his voice low and commanding. "Let me hear you scream."
My orgasm hit me like a tidal wave, and he felt my pussy clench around his dick, milking him as he let out a guttural groan, spilling his seed deep inside me. He held me tightly against the wall, our bodies slick with sweat, as we both rode out our climaxes. He finally pulled out of me, his cock making a wet popping sound as it left my body. He rested his forehead against my back, panting heavily, as he tried to catch his breath. "You're mine," he whispered, his voice thick with satisfaction. "So don't try to run from me, Rag."