Brett led me to a dark staircase. He was too pissed to ride the elevator and wanted a private place to talk I suppose, unless he wanted to bury my body there... which in that case, would have been the perfect place to catch me off guard and hide my body. I mean who would even use the stairs anyway?

"I shouldn't have brought you here." He mutters to himself and I wasn't sure if it was supposed to be an apology considering there was still a hint of irritation in it. Okay, he was obviously very irritated and yeah he shouldn’t have brought me here in the first place.

"And you tell me this now?" I raised my voice to match his, we were both frustrated for no apparent reason, or at least he was.

"That stupid teacher..." he growled, clenching his fist. He ran a hand over his hair "meddling with our business..."

"He's not stupid!" I shouted back.

Brett, of course, enraged by my defiance, pins me against the wall. He was even stronger when he's furious. The impact of that push hurt my back.

Envy and rage clouded his features and for a moment there, it had softened to something I hadn't seen before: desperation.

His face closes in and I was very aware of the proximity between us, there was no escaping with our bodies tightly pressed against each other and the heat radiating off him very distracting to even begin to focus on an escape tactic.

"If you be my girlfriend,” I hear him breathe me in, “promise me you'd only think of me and forget about him."

What was he saying all of a sudden?

Then it hit me.

Was he jealous? Jealous of what? That I was closer to Jason? Or was it because he found him a threat to our slave and master relationship?

"No." I made my resolve. He didn't like me, it was his anger speaking. Yes, anger, that's what it was, I try to convince myself. Anger was such a cunning thing, you don’t mean what you say when you were mad.

Or did you?

"It can't be helped then..."

He forces himself to me, tearing the laced shoulder strap of my dress. I really wished this clothing wasn't revealing, it gave him too many openings.

"I envy all of them for mooning over you while we were in there," he groaned, "I especially envy him for having you."

Ripping the bodice of my dress, he nipped on the top of my left breast, nails digging through my skin and fear was taking over me.

I wanted him to stop… but why couldn't I?

"I'm your date but I can't have this?" he grips me harder, his heat devouring me, a slight moan escaped my lips.

This was so wrong. Very. Very wrong.

"Brett..." my voice hitched between his kisses, and each time I did, the grip he had tightened.

A fingernail dug deeper under my thigh

"Brett…” my heart went overdrive. “you're hurting me!"

I screamed but no matter how I tried to resist, it only encouraged him to dig in deeper, he was far more dangerous than I thought. My eyes widened.

This was sexual assault.

"Tell me you like me..." he groaned between mangled kisses. I tasted blood in my mouth, my lower lip bruised when his mouth collided with mine.

"Brett..." tears were overflowing as they ran down my cheeks, the words couldn't come out, and I don't know what to say.

What was there to say?

I hated him. I know I hated him… but why was this beast suddenly so dear that instead of hating him I wanted more of him?

No, I don't like him.

I can't.

"I'm sorry..." he pulled back as I continued to whimper. Though I expected what could possibly be worse, I was a little glad he didn’t go further. I let myself fall back, the dusty concrete walls my only support. He placed his coat over my shoulders. His fingers as they brushed my bare skin made me flinch.

"Hit me," he grunted shoving both of my hands against his chest. There was no impact. I was too weak to hit him, to even look at him.

"Hit me,” he raised his voice, shoving my hand against his chest once more, “tell me you hate me..."

If only he knew, I wanted to. The scary thing is, words didn't even want to come out of my lips.

I hated him for making me feel this way, but why? Why can’t I say it? Those words seemed so easy to say back then, and now?

Now, I wasn't sure myself.

Pulling me against him, he stroked the back of my head, apologizing repeatedly.

I had to calm down, I tell myself, but that stupid stutter and hiccups refused to walk itself out.

We sat there for hours, everything was blurry after that, and all I could remember was crying against him.

Not resisting.