Dangerously Yours

Tension

The bass is heavier now, vibrating through the floor and into my chest. People move around me like nothing matters—laughing, drinking, touching, completely lost in it.

I exhale slowly and turn towards the kitchen island.

I need something to steady myself.

I glanced at the bottle of vodka, before pouring some into my cup. Taking it like a shot.

For a second, everything feels manageable.

Then—

A hand grabs my arm.

Hard.

''Hey,'' a voice slurs beside me. ''Where are you going?''

My body tenses instantly, trying to pull back, but his grip tightens. ''Let go,'' I snap. He laughs, like whatever I said didn't matter to him. ''Relax, gorgeous, I just want to talk.'' ''I said let go.'' I twist my arm, trying to break free, but he's stronger, his grip careless but firm. ''Come on,'' he mutters, already pulling me away from the kitchen. Everyone around is too drunk to notice. ''It's too loud in here.'' he says. My stomach drops. ''No.'' I plant my feet, pushing against him. ''I'm not going anywhere with you.'' He doesn't listen. He just pulls harder.

The crowd shifts around us, swallowing the moment. No one notices. Panic hits fast. ''Stop,'' I say louder now, trying again to break free from his grip, but it barely slows him down. He drags me down a hallway, toward a closed door. My heart is racing now, too fast, too loud. The door opens and he pulls me inside. The music dulls instantly, replaced by a heavy silence.

''Get off me,'' I say, struggling harder, pushing against him, trying to force space between us. He doesn't let go. Instead, he pushes me against the wall, as his free hand starts to slowly move up my thigh.

The door opens behind him.

A quiet sound follows—a small cough.

The guy freezes. His grip loosens just enough. I rip my arm free. My breath uneven. Elijah stands in the doorway, still, composed, like he's been there the whole time. The guy straightens immediately, whatever confidence he had gone. ''Mr... King,'' he stumbles. ''I didn't realize—''

Elijah doesn't move. He just looks at him with the coldest look on his face. And somehow the silence is worse. ''You didn't realize what?'' he asks quietly. The guy swallows. ''I—I didn't know. I wasn't—'' His voice dies out. Elijah steps forward once. That's all it takes. The guy steps back. ''She said no,'' Elijah says, calm, controlled. ''You should've listened.'' ''Yeah—of course—I was just—''

''Leave.''

One word.

The guy doesn't argue. He leaves immediately, disappearing like nothing happened.

The room falls quiet again. My arm still aches, my chest rising too fast, my breath uneven. I hate how close that was. Elijah closes the door behind him, the sound soft but sharp. His gaze drops briefly to my arm, then back to my face.

''You shouldn't have let him take you in here.''

The words hit wrong. ''I didn't let him,'' I say, my voice sharper now. ''He dragged me.'' A pause. ''You didn't stop him'' My jaw tightens. ''I was trying.'' ''Trying isn't good enough.'' The irritation flares quickly, cutting through everything else. ''I didn't ask for your help.'' ''No,'' he says. ''You didn't.''

The silence filled the room, making it awkward. ''I'm leaving.'' I said. Brushing past him. He doesn't move. Instead, he watches me leave.