After the camera taking a photo, I haven't heard anything else. It's been quiet, all the way quiet.
I feel something touch my skin and I can finally open my eyes again, Hayden's dark fingers trace my bare shoulders.
Oh god.
I want to scream but I can't. His fingers graze my skin and slowly let the straps of my dress fall down my shoulders. I gulp and with barely parted lips and a drunk mind, I somehow manage, "But you said . . . you said you'd never—"
"Rape again?" When he says the words I instantly feel something run into my body, killing every ounce of strength I have left.
I've never known what my reaction would be to something like this. I've always assumed it would be fight, but my body is giving up, completely and utterly surrendering, just as scared as my mind is.
My body has chosen flight and I don't know if I can go through it. My mind wants to shut off, but with the amount o alcohol swimming in it, I can' help but stay awake, barely conscious.
"Yeah." He says all of a sudden and I gulp again. I didn't know what he had planned but I didn't think it was this bad.
I never expected Hayden to go this far. I hear the door budging but when Hayden goes to check it out, it's nothing but the harsh wind outside.
I gulp one more time and Hayden slides my dress up slightly, revealing my black underwear.
Miles's POV
The party is still going on downstairs as my feet rush me down the stairs, into the chaos of red cups and loud music.
"Fuck." I breathe as I slide my fucked up fingers through my hair, letting the blood on my knuckles get tickled by the strands of my hair.
I don't care about any wounds, any pain, anything that isn't about getting her the hell out of there and murdering Hayden.
"Where is Madison?" I hear from behind me and come to a complete and utter fucking stop.
I don't even turn around, I know that annoying voice, Jack would do anything for her, but not in the way I would.
"I'll take care of it," I tell him before I rush out the door, trying to save myself as many seconds of her being hurt as I can.
I get into my Porsche and leave the partying lights behind. I'm on a hunt, and I will fucking find her.
I speed out of the gravel driveway, leaving pebbles spitting out everywhere from the tires.
I turn onto the main road and speed up as far as I fucking can, reaching a hundred and then a hundred and thirty miles. I keep pushing, I know that one wrong move will kill me, but oh god, I don't give a shit.
Madison's mom dies, I'm not going to let something in her die, I can't. I fucking won't.
I speed up faster.
"Think, think, think." Breathe to myself, where the fuck could she be? Where the fuck—my mind turns on as if suddenly, something inside me has begged all of me to work together. I know exactly where she is.
I hear my phone vibrating on the seat next to me and I glance at the message, but it isn't a message, it's a photo of her, of Madison.
She looks barely conscious, her dress straps are slipped down her shoulder, her hair is all over the bed, she's not even on a damn pillow, her dress is raised slightly higher, showing me her underwear.
Thoughts start to race in my mind of whether or not her head is oaky without a pillow, stupid fucking thoughts that start to swim in my head, wondering if she's cold, of what she's thinking, of how she feels. Of course, she's not fucking okay.
"God damnit!!" I fucking yell, tearing my vocal cords, I can feel my throat tighten as I hit the steering wheel as hard as I can with both of my hands, slamming the wheel over and over and over again before finally smashing my phone completely through the window beside me, smashing the glass in the window into pieces, some o them landing all over me.
I hear the wind so much louder now. I notice a few pieces of glass on my bloody knuckles but I don't give it second thought. My girl won't get hurt, not I'm I'm alive, not even if she's not with me.