Chap. 106

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The world swam around Emma, a dizzying kaleidoscope of blurred faces and flashing lights. She planted a hand on a nearby shoulder, steadying herself, but the shoulder swayed too, offering no real anchor. Was the room itself tilting on its axis, or was she simply lost in a series of aimless rotations? She couldn't decipher reality. What she knew with sickening certainty was that somewhere within the last thirty minutes, amidst the thumping bass that vibrated through her very bones and the sticky press of bodies, she had become separated from her friends.

The initial sips of beer had been hesitant, unfamiliar. But then the warmth had spread, a pleasant buzz that temporarily muted the gnawing anxieties of the day.

One beer had led to another, the cold aluminum slick in her hand, the bitter liquid surprisingly easy to swallow. The threats, the lingering unease, had receded like a fading tide. For a blissful, fleeting period, there had been only the music, the low murmur of voices, and a hazy sense of belonging. But the promised camaraderie of her friends had dissolved with the alcohol.

Niki, ever the social butterfly, had been instantly drawn to the energy of the crowd, her laughter echoing as she disappeared into the throng with a succession of new acquaintances. Claire, her initial nervousness melting away, had found her rhythm on the makeshift dance floor, her face flushed with exertion and joy as she moved with a boy whose name Emma couldn't recall one of the guys they metwhen they arrived.

Whitney had been her steadfast shadow, a reassuring presence until the insistent call of the bathroom had separated them. "Wait right here," Whitney had instructed, gesturing to a relatively less congested corner near a grimy-looking utility closet. Emma had leaned against the cool metal door, the muffled sounds of the party seeping through the thin barrier. But three minutes had stretched into an eternity in her alcohol-addled perception, and a restless urge for another drink, that deceptive promise of further oblivion, had pulled her away.

Now, disoriented and alone, she was adrift in a sea of strangers. The earlier buzz had curdled into a throbbing ache behind her eyes, a dull pressure that amplified the cacophony around her. She stopped abruptly, swaying slightly, her gaze sweeping across the anonymous faces, searching for a familiar flash of blonde hair or a glimpse of Claire.

"Hello again, beautiful. How about a dance?"

She turned around quickly, her legs failing her as she almost stumbled. A strong hand caught her arm, steadying her. She blinked, struggling to focus on the grinning face of the blonde guy she'd met earlier. His eyes lingered on her a beat too long, a predatory gleam in their depths. She recoiled, shaking her head and taking a big step away. "My boyfriend wouldn't like that."

He followed her movement, his smile never faltering. "I don't see him around." His gaze roved around the room, a dismissive shrug in his posture. Emma nervously fiddled with the delicate silver chain around her neck, the cool metal a small point of clarity in the swirling chaos.

Suddenly, her back pressed against a cold, damp wall. He moved quickly, his arms shooting out to box her in, his hands planted on the grimy surface inches from either side of her head.

She could smell the cheap cologne clinging to his clothes, the faint scent of stale beer on his breath. "What he doesn't know won't hurt him," he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as his fingertips trailed lightly down the sensitive skin of her forearm, sending a shiver of revulsion, not attraction, through her. Her breath hitched in her throat. Panic, sharp and unwelcome, began to pierce through the alcoholic haze. She didn't know what to do, but the instinct to flee was overwhelming.

The thought of Blake, his trust, was a brief flash of sobriety in her muddled mind. She wouldn't betray that.
With a surge of adrenaline, she shoved his arm out of her way, her hand instinctively pressing against the wall for support. A wave of nausea crashed over her, a violent lurch in her stomach.

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