10 | The Alley

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TRIGGER WARNING!

The following chapter will have contents that might be disturbing for some people. Read at your own risk.

It will be triggering in terms of sexual assault. Please skip if you wouldn't like reading it.

***

I take off my lab coat as my first chemistry lab ends. It's been a long session and quite tiring. Tucking the files back into my bag, I wonder how I'll get home later. I guess that I would take the bus, since my car is broken -- I just found out this morning when I couldn't start the engine.

"Have you asked someone to fix your car?" Stacey asks beside me, slinging her backpack over her shoulders. Since we're taking the same major, we have many classes together, and I find it pleasing. She's my first friend here.

"Nope." I sigh.

"Why don't you try to ask Vaughn?" she asks as we exit the lab. She winks, teasing me, and I roll my eyes.

So, this girl here has asked me about how I managed to hand my jaw-dropping assignment to Professor Adams so quickly, and I've told her about Vaughn.

But no, I can't trouble Vaughn again. I'm well aware that Vaughn is busy preparing for the football game tomorrow, and I don't want to disturb him.

Why do I have to be so clueless about cars?

I'm going to call a mechanic first thing tomorrow in the morning.

Speaking of the game, I ask Stacey as we walk along the corridor, "Hey, are you free tomorrow afternoon?"

"I guess so," she says. "My favourite schedule is Friday. I only have one class in the morning."

"Do you want to watch the football game?"

Her eyes widen. "Oh, is it tomorrow?" she exclaims. "I totally forgot about that. I've been dying to watch them play." Her voice is full of excitement, and I laugh. That's good to hear.

"Yes, it is," I say. "Vaughn asked me to come. It's the least I can do to support the team, even though Jake isn't around..." I trail off, suddenly missing my brother again. "So, it's a yes?" I wink at Stacey.

She smirks. "Absolutely. I would love to."

"Great." I grin as we keep walking along the corridor. It's already dark, thanks to the long hours of our lab session.

"Do you want me to drop you off?" Stacey asks.

"Nah, it's okay," I say, knowing that she lives here at the dorm. She doesn't have to send me all the way to my house. Really, I'm 18 years old, not an eight years old kid.

"Okay, just let me know if you need anything," she kindly offers, waving her hand as we part ways. "Bye."

"Bye. I'll see you tomorrow." I smile, watching her walk to her dorm.

"Just ask the guy!" she shouts, making me laugh as I continue my steps.

The image of Vaughn fixing my car pops up in my mind, and I can't help but imagine how sexy he would look. Under the hood of my car, sweat on his body, his wet undershirt clinging perfectly on his well-toned abs, his strong big hands dirtied with oils. And then I would ask him to take a rest for a while, touching his arm--

I shake my head wildly. Damn. What a stupid imagination. What is wrong with my brain?

While I'm walking further, I pass the football field. I halt as I spot a few team members still around, talking to the coach. They look like they just finished the practice. But Vaughn is nowhere to be found.

No, I've decided not to trouble him again, haven't I? He has to focus on tomorrow's game, Melanie.

I shake my head, walking away from that place.


A smile touches my lips as I walk along the pavement, my eyes travelling around the buildings occupying the scenery of Boston at night time. The cool air blows against my skin, and I breathe in contentment, enjoying it. It has been a long time since the last time I took a walk by myself around a city.

In New York, my parents always had a driver in a luxurious car picking me up and dropping me off wherever I went. It was no wonder that some of the jealous bitches in my high school labelled me as a spoiled Rich Brat.

I scoff, knowing that the opinion was partially true, and I hate myself for it. Yes, we're rich, but I'm not a brat. I wish I could have said that.

The bus stop comes into view, and I smile.

Just when I'm about to speed up my pace, I feel someone's hand gripping my arm so tight, yanking me toward an alley.

I'm about to scream, but the person covers my mouth in his hand, making me struggle even wilder.

No, this is not happening. No way.

Adrenaline rushes through me as the person drags me further inside the alley, muffling my screams in his hand. He is definitely a guy, so strong that I can't break away even though I keep punching and kicking in every direction.

He halts after dragging me further enough inside the alley --not that it makes any difference. The alley is already deserted in the first place, and it's dark enough because the night has fallen. He corners me, pushing me against the brick wall that my back smacks it.

And when I can finally take a good look at him, my heart stops.

The guy's entire face is covered with a three-hole balaclava mask, under the hoodie that he's also wearing.

I expected that it would be a random drunk person or a perverted old man. But how wrong I was.

"Melanie..." he rasps, his voice low.

My heart thumps hard against my ribs. He knows my name. Tears begin to blur my vision as he cups my mouth with his hand.

"I've been watching you for a long time," he hisses, and I choke in tears.

Who is this psychopath? I don't recognize his voice at all, and the fact that he whispers so low doesn't help.

My mind can't think anymore. Someone has actually been stalking me, and right now, here, he wants to take me. This is not a random attempt. This is planned.

"You're mine now," he growls through gritted teeth before lowering his head to kiss my neck. His ragged breath against my skin sends shivers down my spine.

"No--" I shout, but it's no use. He bites the skin below my ear, and I whimper with pain.

While one of his hands locks my wrist against the wall, the other one travels down my thigh, pushing up my skirt. I gasp in shock.

Of all the days I wear a skirt to college, it has to be today.

His fingers trail my inner thigh. "Fuck. You're so soft," he pants, his voice filled with lust.

His other hand takes off my cardigan, exposing me in only my tank top. He pulls one of the straps down and smells my shoulder like he's savouring every moment. My entire body is shaking. I can't even find my voice now, my lips trembling.

His hand now glides up under my tank top, and he cups my breast, squeezing it.

"No, stop it!" I scream, tears now rolling down my face.

But that apparently isn't a good move. He curses and abruptly flips my body around that my forehead hits the brick wall. I am now facing the wall, with him behind me, trapping me.

My eyes widen in horror when I hear him unzip his pants. This reality comes crashing down on me so suddenly that I feel like my world is crumbling.

All this time, I've been a good girl, and no one has ever touched me. But here I am now, about to be raped by a stranger who will take my virginity soon in this dark alley.

I can't be more disgusted when he moans, jerking behind me as something hard and unfamiliar strokes my inner thigh.

My sobs get louder as he keeps stroking the area between my thigh. He grips my panties so harshly that it hurts, and I'm thinking that he might just rip it apart.

"Leave her!" a voice so loud suddenly booms, switching our attention toward the entrance of the alley. "You fucking bastard," the newcomer bites out, his voice shaking with rage. And my heart beats twice as I know whom the voice belongs to.

There stands in the same alley is Vaughn, looking like he can kill someone.



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