Collins’ hands seize me with a suddenness that steals my breath away, his fingers like talons digging into the fragile fabric of my dress with a desperate, drunken ferocity. Panic grips me like a vice, constricting my throat and sending my heart into a frantic race against my ribcage.
Just as I’m about to give in to the despair threatening to consume me, the door bursts open with a loud crack, nearly torn from its hinges by the sheer force of the blow. I gasp, my head whipping around to see who could possibly have come to my rescue.
A figure moves across the room in a blur, grabbing Collins by the collar and ripping him away from me with a strength born of pure, unadulterated rage. Collins caught off guard and hindered by his intoxicated state, is no match for the newcomer’s fury. Blow after blow rains down upon him, each sickening crunch of fist against flesh punctuated by a guttural growl that shakes me to my core.
“You fucking touched what’s mine!” The words are barely human, more animal than man, and suddenly, I know exactly who my savior is.
“Alex,” I breathe, his name a prayer on my lips as relief crashes over me in waves.
But he doesn’t hear me, too lost in the throes of his wrath, to register anything beyond the need to make Collins pay for his transgressions. I watch in a mix of horror and awe as Alex unleashes hell upon the man who dared to lay a hand on me, his fists painting a gruesome canvas of blood and broken flesh.
It’s only when I begin to fear that Alex might actually kill him that I snap out of my daze, lurching forward to grab his arm before he can strike again.
“Alex, that’s enough,” I plead, my voice trembling with barely contained emotion.
He freezes, his fist raised in midair, chest heaving with the force of his rage. His eyes, wild and feral, remain locked on Collins’ battered form, taking in the ruin he’s wrought. It’s a sight that turns my stomach, bile rising in my throat as I take in the extent of the damage.
“I’m okay, you can let him go,” I murmur, gently prying his fingers from Collins’ collar. I reach up to cup his face, my touch a soothing balm against the storm raging within him. “Look at me, Alex. Please.”
Slowly, his gaze meets mine, the fury in his eyes giving way to a profound sense of anguish and regret. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers, his voice raw with emotion as he pulls me into a crushing embrace.
I cling to him, burying my face in his chest as the tears I’ve been holding back finally break free. “It’s not your fault,” I assure him, my words muffled against his shirt. “You saved me.”
We stay like that for a long moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, the rest of the world falling away until it’s just the two of us. When Alex finally pulls back, his hand finds mine, our fingers intertwining in a silent promise of protection.
“Come on, let’s get out of here,” he says softly, leading me out of the ballroom and into the cool night air.
The drive home is a blur, and Alex’s concerned glances and gentle touches are the only things tethering me to reality. When we arrive back at the house, he ignores the barrage of questions about the blood staining his clothes, his focus solely on getting me to the safety and comfort of our room.
Once inside, he draws me a bath, his touch achingly tender as he helps me out of my ruined dress. I sink into the warm water, letting it wash away the physical remnants of the nightmare I’ve just endured. But no amount of scrubbing can erase the memory of Collins’ hands on my skin, the bruising force of his kiss against my shoulder.
I shudder, bile rising in my throat as I recall the sick triumph in his eyes, the way he relished my fear and despair. What would have happened if Alex hadn’t arrived when he did? Would Collins have really gone through with it?
The thought makes me want to scream, to rage against the injustice of it all. But instead, I simply sink deeper into the tub, letting the water envelop me like a cocoon, a barrier against the horrors of the world outside.
As the water grows cold, I find my mind drifting to Alex and the primal fury I witnessed in him tonight. It was a side of him I’d never seen before, a glimpse into the depths of his possessiveness and the lengths he’d go to protect me. The memory of it sends a shiver down my spine, equal parts thrilling and terrifying.
There’s a part of me, buried deep beneath the layers of trauma and fear, that can’t help but find his fierce protectiveness incredibly alluring. The way he sprang into action, the raw power and dominance he exuded as he made Collins pay for his sins… it stirs something primal within me, a dark and dangerous attraction that I’m almost afraid to acknowledge. But if I must, acknowledge it. I would say I love it more than I hate it.
When I finally emerge from the bathroom, Alex is waiting for me, his eyes soft with concern and a hint of trepidation. He rises from the bed, taking a tentative step towards me before hesitating, clearly unsure of how much space I need in the wake of such a traumatic experience.
But I simply offer him a small, grateful smile, letting him know without words that his presence is not only welcome, but desperately needed. As I slip into my pajamas and climb beneath the covers, I feel the bed dip under his weight, his familiar scent enveloping me like a warm embrace.
“Can I hold you?” he asks softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Yes,” I breathe, the word catching in my throat as a fresh wave of emotion threatens to overwhelm me. “I would love nothing more right now.”
And then his arms are around me, pulling me flush against the solid warmth of his body, and for the first time since this nightmare began, I feel truly safe. I let my eyes drift closed, exhaustion tugging at the edges of my consciousness as I surrender to the comfort of his embrace.