Forbidden (Mature 18+ Only)

Chapter 1

I lay there, on the floor, trying to take deep and even breaths. The pain in the back of my head was thumping and softening the pain in my jaw. My boyfriend, Matt had punched me for refusing him sex.

I was in the middle of getting dressed for the party tonight when he waltzed up towards me and started groping my breasts from behind. I had shrugged him away, causing him to roughly handle me. I had snapped at him to stop when he abused me. It had been awhile since he had laid a hand on me, I was starting to get anxious as it was only a matter of time before he hit me again. After the assault he had stormed off with a slam of the bedroom door behind him.

I got up off the ground and gingerly walked to the bathroom. Why tonight of all nights, just as we were hosting a party? Unfortunately I wasn't allowed to invite anyone, only Matt could invite people, which tended to be his close group of friends and other associates. Even if I could invite someone, I wouldn't want them to come to one of Matt's parties. The only type of people that came, were into drugs, alcohol, reckless behaviour and mindless fucking. I tried to blend into the shadows whenever we had these types of parties.

Dabbing a cloth of cold water, I tentatively applied it to my bruised jaw. The pain was already becoming dull as the cold water slowly numbed the area. I reached up into the medicine cabinet and took two painkillers for the pounding pain in the back of my head. Looking at myself in the mirror, I wanted to cry at my appearance. My dull navy eyes gazed back in the mirror and appeared empty. My once rosy cheeks were now ashen and gaunt, blending in with the rest of my pale face. Even my blonde hair appeared dull and lifeless, just looking at my melancholy state made me feel like curling up and crying years of pent up misery and pain. What reward do I ever get from putting on a brave face, what is the point in staying alive for?-

CRASH!

I whipped around and stared in horror at the entrance to the bedroom. The door was halfway off its hinges but there on the ground was a man I had only glanced at in the past. I knew he was one of Matt's friends, that and because of the intricate tattoo he had on his neck. The tattoo symbolized the relationship Matt had with his group of friends since high school. Matt never went into detail the reason why they decided to get the tattoo but it looked beautiful, in a masculine way. It was a hint of a demonic face, embellishing two black eyes that were so deep, full of wisdom and answers. Interrelated into the tattoo was wispy swirls, curving and forming black flames. Partially hiding the tattoo was a lock of black hair that trailed up into a full mane of hair that laid in disarray on one side of the man's face. His eyes were closed and I started to worry until I noticed his chest was rising as he took regular breaths.

Loud music bounced into the room, thumping with the regular beat of some top hit song. I could hear distant voices with bouts of laughter and yelling here and there. I had no idea how long Matt had left me on the bedroom floor but looks like I slept through the beginning of the party. I walked over to the man on my bedroom floor and as I got closer I noticed he was lying next to a black bottle that had smashed upon the impact of falling onto the floor. In slow drizzles, a russet muddy substance was pooling into the carpet. That is definitely going to leave a stain, and Matt will take it out on me, I thought.

I bent down and shook the man's shoulder, "Hello? Are you okay?" I noticed how ruggedly handsome his face was; his lips pursed and his hard jaw growing a shadow of hair.