His hand slides up my thigh. “Don’t act like you haven’t been flirting with me all night.”
“Get your hand off me.”
He doesn’t. “Come on,” he murmurs. “Let’s go back to my place. We’ll really get to know each other.”
“No,” I say, louder now, heart hammering. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
His face changes, anger flashing across it fast and ugly. “Don’t be a tease,” he snaps.
“I am not teasing you, I am saying no.”
He grabs my face and kisses me again, rougher this time, like he’s done pretending, and when I shove at his chest, trying to put space between us, his hand swings out and cracks across my cheek.
Not hard enough to knock me out.
Hard enough to make the world tilt and go cold.
Shock slams through me, sharp and bright, and for a second I can’t even breathe.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I gasp.
He’s already leaning back in, fingers digging into my jaw. “Don’t fight me,” he snaps. “You’ve been giving me looks all night, flirting, letting me buy you dinner, and now you wanna act like you didn’t want this?”
“I said no,” I choke out, trying to twist away.
He laughs, short and ugly. “Don’t play innocent now. You don’t dress like that and get in my car if you don’t want something.”
My heart is slamming so hard I can hear it in my ears. “Let me go.”
“Stop acting like a bitch,” he growls. “You knew what you were doing. You wanted my attention, you wanted the date, you wanted me.”
“That’s not true,” I say, voice shaking. “You don’t get to touch me just because I went out with you.”
He shoves me back against the seat. “Don’t act like a whore and then pretend you’ve got standards.”
Something in me snaps, clean and violent and loud in my head.
My hands are shaking as I dig into my purse, and I don’t even think, I just grab the taser I keep clipped inside and jam it into his side and press.
He yells, jerking back, swearing, and that’s all the chance I need.
I fumble for the door, shove it open, and bolt, my heels slipping off as I kick them away and run barefoot into the dark, not daring to look back.
He yells, a sharp, furious sound that cuts through the night, and jerks back in his seat, one hand flying to his side as he swears.
That’s all I need.
I shove the door open and scramble out of the car, my heels slipping off as soon as my feet hit the gravel. I don’t even think about them. I just run.
My heart is pounding so hard it feels like it’s trying to break out of my chest, and my cheek is on fire where he hit me, hot and stinging and already starting to throb. The cold night air bites at my skin, and I realize too late that my dress is thin and not meant for this, not meant for running through the dark and the dirt with nothing but adrenaline keeping me upright.
My bare feet hit rocks, then dirt, then something softer as I veer off the paved overlook and into the trees.
The woods.
Branches scrape at my arms and legs, and my dress catches on something sharp, fabric tugging hard enough that I almost trip. I yank myself free and keep going, lungs burning, breath coming out in harsh, panicked gasps I can’t control.
Behind me, I hear him.
