Page 146 of Wild Thing
“Steven. You're drunk. You need to leave.”
“No. You flirted with me tonight,” his eyes burned with violence. “You owe me something.”
I shook with fear and rage. “Flirted with—? Get. The. Fuck. Out.”
“I’ve been dying fuck that filthy mouth of yours.”
“You need to leave.”
If he wasn't going to leave, I needed to try to get to the door and make a run for it.
Aggressively, he braced his arms either side of my head, pushing me roughly into the wall. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you…” he dropped his head to my chest. “Why are you wearing shit like this if you don’t want my attention, huh?”
Being a woman, it wasn't unusual to have thoughts about what you'd do if you are attacked by a stranger. You grow up learning to be on your guard in most places. To place your car keys between your fingers, pretend to be on the phone in an empty carpark, to check the backseat of your car.
That type of shit.
But I'd never given any thought as to what I would do if I was attacked by someone I knew.
I should have screamed for help. But I was completely paralyzed, frozen in fear.
Wasn't I a tougher bitch than this?
Normally, yes, I would have liked to think so. But I was emotionally drained and physically incapable to be at my defensive best.
I tried to duck out from under his arms, but in one swift motion, he grabbed my hands and pinned them over my head. My small frame and drunkenness made it easy for Steven to overpower me.
I was helpless.
“Please don’t do this.” I hated how pathetic I sounded.
“Ssh… I’m not going to do anything you won’t like.”
Aggressively, he tried to kiss me.
I shook my head from side to side and pleaded with him to stop. "Stop it!"
“C’mon Dylan, let me have a taste.”
He tried to kiss me again, but I did the only thing I could do, which was knee him as hard as I could in his balls. "Fuck you!"
He hunched over, but as I moved to reach for the door, he clawed at me, grabbing my dress.
He overpowered me in less than two seconds.
Spinning my body around, he slammed my head into the mirror on the opposite wall, the glass shattering everywhere.
I was stunned, seeing stars and darkness for a few moments.
I wondered if I was bleeding, before I felt a warm trickle of blood run down my face. I raised my hand to touch my forehead, blinking the stars away. Blood gushed from a gash on my hairline.
“Oh my god,” I croaked in disbelief.
Steven yanked me upwards and fastened my bloody hands behind my back. He pushed all of his body weight into me, pinning me to the wall.
My face was crushed against the shattered mirror. I heard the sound of crunching glass underneath my face.
I blinked, again and again, seeing fragments of my reflection in what was remaining of the mirror on the wall. My head was spinning, fuzzy and my ears were ringing from the impact. I could taste blood as I heard him fumbling around his pants, loosening his belt with his free hand.
