Paint You Wings // Ashton Irwin [au]

Seventeen

"You shouldn't have gotten yourself drunk on the anniversary of your parent's death. If you didn't, maybe then you would have said something to stop me," he fires back.

"Fuck you," I spit.

That does it. Within seconds, I'm pushed against the door leading to my escape, a yelp of pain escaping my lips. My back hits the wooden door and a sharp pain shoots up my spine. Jared presses one hand against the door and the other grips both of my wrists above my head, leaving me completely defenseless. He has always been very forceful and now that he's older, he's stronger than before.

"You look even more beautiful than before." His raspy voice fans across my neck as he leaves a trail of sloppy kisses along my neck and up my jaw.

The way he calls me beautiful makes me sick to my stomach. Compared to the way Ashton says it, Jared's is full of pure lust. I shut my eyes and begin screaming and kicking my legs, an action that I soon regret. Jared presses his body against mine, his weight holding me still. I still try to fight him off, but it's no use. What's sad is that this isn't the first time he has forced himself on me.

I hate this. I hate his touch. I hate the way he sloppily kisses my neck. I hate the way his calloused hands rub against my skin. And I hate that Ashton isn't here. My eyes burn from the salty tears blurring my vision. I want this to be another nightmare. That this isn't reality. But when Jared bites my shoulder, drawing blood to the surface and marking me, I know this is real.

The echo of someone yelling down the hallway ceases my sobs. I crane my neck as far I can and press my ear against the door. The shouts grow louder as the person walks farther down the hallway. I know that Jared also hears the shouting by the way his touch roughens. His hand slides up my leg through the slit in my dress, trailing dangerously close to my inner thigh. I can hear the footsteps of the person out in the hallway and his voice became clear as day.

"Emilia? Are you over here?" It's Michael.

Michael continues to shout, asking where I am. I shuffle beneath Jared, trying to free my leg and succeed. I kick the door as hard as I can and scream Michael's name at the top of my lungs, startling Jared. Heavy footsteps run up to the door and the doorknob twist furiously.

"Emilia?" Michael yells through the door.

"Shit," Jared curses under his breath.

He releases me from his grasp and I drop to the floor out of exhaustion. Tears continue to pour down my cheeks as Jared opens the door and swiftly bypasses Michael. Michael immediately kneels down and consoles me. I wrap my arms around his neck, thankful that he found me. A wet patch begins to form on his suit as I cry harder.

"You're okay now, Emmie," he says, rubbing my back. His voice was so soft, caring. "What the fuck happened? Who was that?" I don't care that he called me Emmie, I'm just happy he's here.

I shake my head furiously, not wanting to speak of what happened. "Please just take me home," I beg in-between sobs.

He sighs in defeat, not wanting to push the situation and pulls what I assume to be his phone from his pocket. I try to calm myself down as he waits for the person he's calling to answer.

"Luke," he says. "I found her. She was in a storage closet with some guy. I don't know who it was, but he just ran off. Get Ashton and the others and meet us at her apartment." He hangs up and shoves the phone into his pocket before taking off his jacket and wrapping it over my shoulders. He cradles me in his arms and storms out of the closet and into the chilly Denver air to Calum's truck.

The cool air dries my tear-stained face by the time we get it to the truck. Michael gently sits me in the passenger seat before getting in himself and driving off. I rest my head against the window and watch the scenery blur as we speed past it.