Mr. Lawson's Assistant

Chapter 23

"Absolutely not!" I crossed my arms in front of me, leaning back against my bed frame. Damon Lawson stood in the doorway to my room, wearing casual party attire and a firm expression.
"I'm not leaving you here alone." He spoke calmly.
I flashed him a fake smile. "Then you'll have to stay here."
Damon's eyes flashed when I said this, but his expression didn't let on. I knew I was getting under his skin.
He had told me to get ready for the party nearly twenty minutes ago, but I'd refused to.
"Oana, with all due respect, when was the last time you attended a party?" Damon questioned, crossing his arms, and consequently flexing his forearms.
Moving my eyes back to his, I copied the motion and crossed my own arms. "The last time I attended a party, I was shot." For a split moment his eyes flicked over to my scabbed shoulder, but quickly returned to my face. "And before that," I cut him off before he could say something smart, "I was sexually assaulted by a drunk college kid." My tone dropped as I spoke, and my eyes burned into Damon's, ignoring the way his face darkened. "So, when I don't want to go to another party," My voice was much harsher than I expected, "I mean it." Standing upright, I tightened my crossed arms and stared hard at Damon. Something on his face changed slowly, and he uncrossed his arms. I saw the look that flitted across his face, and I didn't want anything to do with it.
"I had no idea," He started quietly, and I scowled.
"Because it isn't any of your buisness."
Damon didn't even retort to my short comment, instead he said, "It's three doors down if you need me." Then he turned and disappeared down the hall.
What a self-centered jerk.
I closed my bedroom door, and plugged in my phone, before sitting down at the desk by the window and opening my laptop.
Mr. Lawson had Rachel email me some work I needed to type out, if I had any free time while I was here. I needed to do something instead of just sitting in my room alone, so I decided to put a few hours in.
Not even two hours into my work, a sudden snap caused the electricity to flash, then it died completely, leaving me in complete darkness. I stood quickly and stumbled across the room towards the door. Trying my light switch, I pursed my lips when nothing happened, before I made my way over to where my phone was plugged in. As I turned it on, the battery flashed red, and it died. I hadn't plugged it in all the way.
Way to go Oana.
Checking my laptop battery, I saw that it was at ten percent, but when I searched my contacts, I found that I didn't have either Lawson's email on my computer.
Perfect.
Groaning, I closed my laptop and begrudgingly sifted through my dresser drawers for a decent pair of shorts, and another sporty tank top. Pulling on some sandals, I headed out of the house, mentally cursing Damon and the stupid house that lost electricity.
As I walked down the sidewalk, I  admired the sand dunes against the moonlit sky, and I wished for once, that the houses were pressed closer together. Though it was sort of peaceful, walking alone in the warm night air and hearing the ocean faintly in the distance.
Finally, I reached the third house, and the obnoxiously loud music reached my ears, even before I was in the yard.
I took in the sight with judgemental eyes. It wasn't the sort of party where a bunch of drunk, drug-smoking teenagers were laying around in the yard, listening to vulgar music. It was  slightly more refined.
I assumed that all the people here were owners of, or lived in, this neighborhood, because they all wore relatively dressy clothes, and the music wasn't as explicit as it could have been. Not to mention the array of expensive cars that lined the driveway. As I walked up the front steps, I did notice a few people with drinks, but none of them were screaming and running around like idiots- like the last real party I'd gone to.
Stepping through the front door, I surveyed the large living room full of dancing people, trying to spot Damon above the crowd. Obviously, he would have been slightly taller than most guys here, but I couldn't see him.
Letting out a breath, I moved forward through the crowd, avoiding making any contact with anyone, and keping my eyes straight ahead. Passing through the living room, kitchen, and dining room, I searched for Damon, but still saw no sight of him. I was growing more and more frustrated by the minute, and as I pushed past a couple, who were clearly sipping their six or seventh glass of champagne, I frowned and made my way out towards the pool.
Why would you put a pool in your backyard when you live on the beach?
Raising my eyebrows at the fancy setting in their back yard, I took note of the glass bar that they'd built beside the pool, and the stage where a small band was playing.
Party? This almost seems too nice to be a party...
I stared as a woman passed me in what looked like a triangle dress- literally it only covered the main triangle of her body, that was it. I shook myself, and glanced around again for Damon. Seeing a man with black hair standing by the bar, I let out an annoyed breath and walked towards him.
As I approached the bar, the atmostohere changed, and I felt a few pairs of eyes on me, as I searched for the man I'd seen. When I was practically inside the bar, I realized that the man in front of me had a very detailed tattoo sleeve up his left arm. Gripping my hands together in front of me I withheld a frustrated groan that bubbled inside my chest.
Definitely not Damon.
Turning back, I almost ran into the guy behind me.
"Woah, easy there, sweetheart! Where are you going? I was just going to buy you a drink." The man chuckled, running his eyes over my clothes and then resting them on my chest momentarily.
"Underage." I muttered, pushing past him, but he caught my arm.
"I won't tell if you don't." He winked, and I glared at him.
"No thanks."
"Aw c'mon." He drawled, pulling me back. I snapped my arm out of his grasp, and looked him in the eye, my hands involuntarily balling into fists as I stared at him.
"I said, no thanks." I grit my teeth, narrowing my eyes at him, and spinning around to walk away. Obviously, I'd shaken him off enough to get to the opposite side of the yard, then I was presented with another problem. One that also happened to be of the male species.
"You lost?" A familiar red-headed man approached me, a sly smile spreading over his face as he looked me over.
"Not enough to talk to you." Narrowing my eyes at him, I realized that he was the man from my first day of work with Mr. Lawson. What he was doing out here, I had no idea, but I had the distinct feeling that he wasn't the type of person I needed to be speaking with.
He laughed at my insult, but his malicious eyes flashed, and I knew my words hadn't gone unnoticed.
"You look awfully familiar, do I know you?" He asked, but his eyes were only on my face for a moment.
This is why I don't go to parties.
I reminded myself, as I stepped back from the man.
"No."
He smirked, but I wasn't interested. "Then allow me to introduce myself," He stepped forward. 
I shifted backwards, "No thank you, I need to find someone." I did my best not to let the look of disgust wash over my face, I doubt I hid it that well though.
"I'll help you." He offered, but his expression told me it wasn't really my choice as to whether he helped me or not. Exhaling quietly, so he didn't hear me, I assessed him quickly, before giving him a curt nod. Turning and walking in a random direction, hoping to see Damon, I found myself wandering back inside with Mr. Red Hair at my heels. As we entered the main room, where the dancing was, I felt a hand on the small of my back, and suddenly, I was being pulled into the tight mix of people. Before I knew what was happening, Red Hair was in front of me. The cruel smile he wore tainted his face like the alcohol in his breath. I felt stupid for not having noticed the alcohol before. Red Hair winked down to me pushed himself up in front of me, leaving little room between us.
"Get off." I growled, pushing back against him, but he just laughed and hugged me to his chest, crushing me against him.
"You know you want to dance." He purred, seemingly unaffected by my struggle. He tried to push his hands under my shirt, but I managed to shove him off balance enough to make him drop them.
Unfortunately, I wasn't strong enough to get away. "...Stop shoving me." He slurred, pulling me to him again, this time, his hand slid up my spine despite my struggle. Flashes of old memories lit up my brain, and I felt the air leaving my lungs as I started started to panic. His hands were on my hips now, pulling my waist closer to himself, and I couldn't move away. I was too panicked to move.
Suddenly, I was pulled back by some unseen force, and my brain was knocked from the frozen trance of panic. Gasping, I stumbled back before I saw a tall man step between the red-haired man and I. The tall man pushed me behind him, neatly knocking me off balance. Then, he drew out his right hand to pusb Mr. Red Hair a few steps back, and the drunk man readily obliged. My brain clicked into motion, and I quickly recognized Damon from the back, when he started speaking to the man in front of us.
"Leave her alone."
"Damon, good to see you finally using the second house!" The man laughed, paying Damon's firm grip on his shirt no attention. "Who's the girl? She's a looker, isn't she?" The guy rambled, trying to move back towards me. I flinched, but Damon's other hand shot out behind him to push me further back, and he kept his arm there as he stepped up to the man threateningly.
"You're drunk, Trey, go home."
The red head just laughed . "Let go of me Damon, I have unfinished buisness with your maid." He grinned, and Damon tensed. His grip on Trey visibly tightened, and I expected him to knock the guy out right there. No one used that tone with Damon. Fortunately, Damon restrained himself.
"You come near her again, and I'll be sure you never 'do business' again." Damon's tone was low and even, dangerously calm for such a threat, and it was as if the man suddenly realized the dire situation he was in. His face paled in the dark room and he shrank back against Damon's hold. Stumbling back, the man nodded vigorously, and Damon gave him an extra shove to widen the gap between them. Leveling his shoulders and looking the man in the eye, Damon said, "Go." And the man didn't give us a second glance before he whirled around and bee-lined for the front door. Damon glared after him, his shoulders taunt, as Trey disappeared from sight. Damon turned back to me, the flashing neon lights momentarily highlighting his face. I glanced to where the guy had dissappeared, but Damon stepped sideways and blocked my view.
"Let's go, it's late."