GHOST OF YOU | BWS

seven.

How are you doing? Enjoying life in Birmingham? What are you majoring in? Are you liking your classes? Are you single?

When I hear that last question, I go to take another sip out of the bottle in my hands, anything to make me forget about this night, but as nothing comes out of it, I quickly realize I've drunk it all already. I know I'm way past wasted now, as the guy who's been talking to me for however long seems to now have a twin, and none of them seem to be able to sit still. Wait, is it my head that's moving, or them? He doesn't have a twin, does he? I turn my head towards where James was sitting next to me, and see that he's gone. What? Where has he left? When? I didn't even see him leave. I stand up and ignore the guy in front of me who's asking me where I'm going, and start walking down the stairs before making my way to the kitchen to get myself another drink. I clearly haven't had enough as I can still feel that hole in my chest and the agony my heart is in. I enter the kitchen where a group of guys is chatting and laughing around the island table, a beer each in their hands. Judging by their look, I bet they're part of the university's soccer team. They just have that superior and cocky look on their face. I ignore the stares and dirty comments I receive as I walk towards the counter where I see a bottle of whisky calling my name, but just as I'm about to grab it, a guy comes in between me and the counter. I lift my head up to be able to look at him in the eyes as he's making me feel like a dwarf next to him and give him my most unhappy look.

"Move", I say, not in the mood to have my time wasted by a stupid frat boy.

"What are you gonna do if I don't, pretty face?", he says and I sigh. That's exactly why I don't come to parties. I don't have time for self-absorbed, entitled dicks. He looks at me with lustful eyes, and licks his lips, a smirk quickly replacing his smile.

"Just fucking move", I say as I try to reach for the bottle again but he grabs my hand with his, while his other hand grabs my ass, and he pulls me onto him under his friends' laughs. I can feel his crotch rubbing against me, and I start to sober up real quick as he forces his lips on mine.

What the fuck.

His hand is squeezing my arse so tight I'm sure it will leave a mark. The light breeze I feel on my butt indicates me my dress is no longer covering my lower half because of him. I try to push him off me, but the way he's holding my wrist and keeping me glued to him makes it impossible for me to escape his grip. The amount of alcohol I had tonight doesn't help as I feel like my thoughts are all over the place and everything seems to be in slow motion around me. His lips on mine feel wet and have a disgusting taste of beer and cigarette as he kisses me roughly and I find myself gasping for air. All of a sudden, the room falls quiet, not a single laugh from the jerk's friends echoing in the kitchen anymore.

"Get the fuck off her", I hear a chilling voice say behind me and the guy detaches his lips from mine. I'm finally able to breathe again. I see the guy look behind me and he instantly loosens his grip on me. I quickly push him off me and notice how everyone is also looking behind me in silence.

"Shit man, I'm out of here", one of the guys says before making his way out of the kitchen, quickly followed by his friends. I immediately step away from the guy who had his hands all over me a second ago and turn around to see Brad standing there, two other tattooed dudes I have never seen before next to him. The look on the face of the guy who just assaulted me suddenly changes, his smirk replaced by terror. He literally looks like he's gonna shit himself.

"Hey man, sorry, I- I didn't know she was with you", he stutters as he tries to back away from Brad and his friends who are walking towards us still standing against the counter. I can feel my heart beating at a million BPM in my chest as I watch the three of them approach us, Brad looking like he's ready to kill. I've never seen that look on his face before. Even when he scared the hell out of me the other day, he looked like an angel compared to now. His hazel eyes have turned completely black, and his jaw is so clenched I wonder if the pressure isn't gonna break it. His eyes don't move from the guy next to me as the space between us gets smaller and smaller, and I notice the guy start to panic. He's clearly about to make a run for it, but before he can, Brad's ringed fingers curl into a fist just as he reaches him, and it doesn't take long before his hand makes contact with the guy's face, throwing him to the ground, a line of blood soon running down his nose. The guy doesn't have time to realize what happened to him that Brad kicks him in the stomach with such strength that I swear I heard the sound of a bone breaking. The guy on the floor starts to beg Brad to let him go, telling him that he's sorry, while I stand there next to them, unable to move, paralysed by fear. I have never witnessed so much violence with my own eyes, only on TV, and trust me, it's not something you'd want to see. I start to feel the alcohol rushing up my throat as Brad continues to kick the guy on the floor, and I have to look away from the sight of his face, now swollen and covered in blood. He's going to kill him, I think and decide to go and get some help. But just as I try to leave, Brad notices me move and turns towards me, with that look that sends shivers down my spine. My breathing becomes increasingly jerky as I wonder what's in store for me now.