Warped by Alicia Taylor Page A

block everything out.
    I lose myself in my dancing until hands slip around my waist. I jump from the sudden contact, and freeze. I feel a body grind on my behind and warm breath on my neck. The stench of alcohol nearly makes me sick and a shiver runs through my body.
    “Why you stopped dancin’? Come on sexy, dance,” a slurred voice rasps in my ear. I can feel his arousal and it makes me cringe.
    He grips my hips tightly and thrusts into me as I struggle to free myself from his grip, and panic starts to set in when he doesn’t let me go. My heart beats wildly and adrenalin pumps through my body. I struggle against him more but it’s no use. He may be drunk but he still overpowers me, making fear overtake me.
    Suddenly he’s gone and shouts and screams ring out around me. Turning, I notice a blur of struggling limbs on the floor before my brain registers what I’m seeing.
    Damon is straddling the drunken fucker who manhandled me, punching him repeatedly in the face. Blood spurts all over the drunk’s face and hands as he tries to protect himself from each blow Damon is raining down on him.
    I try to step forward to pull Damon off of him but get pulled back. I struggle and fight to get to free but I’m held steady.
    “Let me go,” I scream.
    “Calm down, Ella. That piece of shit deserves what he’s getting.” Hearing Tom’s voice calms me slightly, then my gaze drifts to Damon again. Spencer appears from nowhere and pulls his raging brother away from his target.
    Damon shakes him off before growling a few choice words at Spence. Spencer nods and starts pulling the drunk to his feet just as the bouncers step up to remove the bleeding drunk. He’s a mess and not entirely stable on his feet. Tears clog my eyes and throat when I look at Damon.
    Stomping over, Damon takes me from Tom’s arms, holding me tightly to him. His whole body shakes with anger and his breath comes out in sharp pants, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
    I’m standing in a state of shock, trying to understand how everything went the way it did, my mind running a mile a minute. Damon scoops me up into his arms and storms through the club to the back offices.
    Hanging limply in his arms, I sway with each step he takes. I feel sick. Shivers wrack my body as the adrenalin slowly drains away.
    Damon’s office door slams shut behind us and he doesn’t stop until he sets me down into the chair at his desk. He pulls back and paces the room, agitation evident in his rigid body. I stay silent, not knowing what to say. He disappears into the bathroom, before re-entering his office wiping his hands with a cloth.
    “Are you okay?” he asks. I can tell he’s trying to calm the anger in his tone. I swallow before replying.
    “Yes. A little shaken up but I’m okay.”
    “What the fuck was that Ella? Why would you just go out onto the dance floor alone without telling anyone?”
    Anger rises in me. I’m not a fucking child. I can do what I want without telling anyone where I’m going.
    “I’m not a fucking child Damon,” I spit. “I can take care of myself.” As soon as the words leave my mouth I want to take them back, they’re not true.
    “It looked like it,” he snaps. I know it’s his anger and nerves making him snap so I stay quiet while he silently fumes.
    I can’t take care of myself. Damon had to come to my rescue. My anger starts to dissipate as I realise his words, however much I dislike them, are right.
    He turns and looks at me before striding over to me, his eyes are frantic. He pulls me up into his arms and wraps himself around me, hugging the breath out of me.
    His relief is evident as his tense frame relaxes and he pulls back a little to look at me. Kissing my hair and cheeks, he then looks me in the eyes.
    “Beauty?” he asks softly. Damon’s eyes darken and his jaw clenches. “Did he hurt you?” I shake my head.
    “No, just scared me a little,” I say quietly.
    He pulls me to him again, bringing my body flush