Dark Matter [Completed]

Eleven

While Luke's other friends aren't as utterly repulsive as Sam, they aren't nice. To me, at least. Their polite, little smiles never slip, but I can see the disdain in their eyes. New flash ladies and gentlemen... the feeling's mutual. But I just smile nervously and blush and try to act like I've never been to a party like this before.

It's a little harder to pretend I'm enjoying myself, though. I've never liked big crowds, and I would much rather be curled up in a comfortable chair with a good movie. Yet here I am, following Luke around like a lost puppy. Honestly, it's almost a relief when he gets caught up with his friends and leaves me by myself. At least then I don't have to pretend I like him.

Since I'm basically invisible to these trust fund babies, it's too easy to sneak a drink that is way too big for a girl Stephanie's size and find a quiet corner. Of course, I can't actually get drunk, at least on this much alcohol. Another side effect of Boris' meddling. I would need to consume practically my own body weight in alcohol to send myself under the table. Great for keeping my head during a mission, not so great for drowning my troubles. Not that I would if I could. Only cowards can't face their pain.

I'm minding my own business, sipping at my drink and admiring the artwork, when I sense a presence creep up behind me. Or rather, the reek of sweat and beer gives him away. I turn around with a little squeak when Sam clears his throat loudly. He's so plastered I'm surprised he's still standing.

"Wh... ersh your boyfresh?" He slurs, stumbling towards me.

I skitter away from him. "He's not my boyfriend."

Sam just laughs drunkenly. "Oh, co... come on babysh. I knowsh better. I shee the way you look at him." He leers at me and I back away again. "Hesh not worsh it, y'knowsh. I can sh... showsh you a mush better time."

"N... no thanks," I say, feigning fear. Sam lurches towards me and I try to back away, but I'm trapped in the corner. I bat his hand away. "Please... please let me go..."

He just grins at me, and it's all I can do not to laugh in his face. He thinks he's got me cornered, helpless, ripe for the picking. Darling, I know twenty different ways to kill you with a pen. Lay one finger on me and I will show you the true meaning of pain.

I try to make a break for it, but Sam catches me by the arm and yanks me down onto the plush sofa. I start to scream, but he covers my mouth with his meaty hand. "Shush up!" he snarls, then his expression softens. "Don't worry... we... we're gonna have a goosh time."

He then begins to paw at my dress, trying to slip it off. Obviously, Luke isn't going to come bursting in at the last moment to save me like in the movies. Guess I'm going to have to save myself. I hear Sam's grunt of surprise as I fall straight through the couch. Before he even has a chance to move, I'm rolling out from under the couch. In another moment I'm on top of him, high heels digging into his back and arm cutting off his air supply.

Sam Lawrence is a big boy and it takes all my concentration to keep him pinned down as he thrashes around. Just before he loses conciseness I lean close and whisper into his ear. "Having a good time yet, darling?" Then I release him and he slumps onto the floor.

I know it was risky, revealing myself to him, but he's so plastered he won't remember a thing tomorrow. Poor little Sammy will wake up tomorrow with a nasty hangover, and mysteriously sore throat. I look down at the pathetic form lying on the ground at my feet. You could almost feel sorry for him. Almost. He did try to molest me after all.

But I can't just leave him like this. Sam may not remember what happened, but if someone finds him with all those bruises on his throat they're definitely going to know something is wrong. I pull the concealer out of my purse and do some quick cover up work. That should hide the bruises at least until he showers, which, by the aura that follows him, shouldn't be for a while. Then I grab one of the heavy, brass candlesticks off the mantle and crack him over the head with it. That'll leave a mark.

Then I stumble out of the room, sobbing. I shove my way through the crowd until I find Lucius. He's laughing and knocking back a Coke, but his eyes widen when he catches sight of me. Immediately, he's at my side, leading me out of the room. "What happened to you?" he asks as soon as we're alone. "Are you alright?"

I can only sniffle and whimper for a few minutes, but finally I manage to choke out, "M... my head was hurting and... and I needed some quiet s... so I just slipped into an empty r... room. J... just for a minute. I was going to... going to leave, but h... he followed me, and he wouldn't let me leave. He... cornered me. I tried to run, but he caught m... me and..." I break off into helpless sobs.

"Did he... Did he hurt you?" Luke demands, taking me by the shoulders.

I shake my head. "I hit him. With the candlestick. He's unconscious."

Luke is quiet for a moment, then he asks, "Was it Sam?" I give a tiny nod. His expression goes dark and he says, "We're going home. Come on."

"Wh... what about... him?" I ask as I follow him. Luke mutters something that sounds an awful lot like, "Eff Sam." I don't argue with him.

Luke doesn't speak again until we're in the car and several miles away from the Lawrence's estate. "God...," he says finally, "I... I'm sorry sorry Stephanie. I... I shouldn't left you by yourself." He swears, slamming his fist into the steering wheel. "I shouldn't even have brought you. I should've know better. I-."

"Luke," I say quietly. He looks at me, his eyes burning in the darkness. "Luke," I say again. "It wasn't your fault." Technically, you could argue that it was, at least partially. He did abandon me, and he did bring me to that pervert's house in the first place. However, I place the blame entirely at the feet of that filthy Sam Lawrence. Any may he suffer the worst of hangovers. Amen.

Luke sighs, running his hand through his hair. "I just... I feel awful. I brought you there to have a good time... and look what happened."

"Well," I say slowly, "I was having fun before... you know..." Not really, but he doesn't need to know that.

Luke drums his fingers on the steering wheel for a moment. "Still... I want to make it up to you. I can't let tonight end like this. I know I can't make it better, but will you let me try to make it up to you?"

"Okay," I say, letting a hesitant smile creep onto my face. "What are you going to do?"

He begins to smile a little too. "You'll have to wait and see."