Unmasked (King Morine #4)

23. Mallory

CHAPTER 23

Mallory

T he shots have me feeling relaxed as I grind my ass against Mandy on the dance floor to the beat of the song. I’m so wrapped up in having fun with her that I don’t realize there’s a guy beside me until he leans in, touching my arm.

“Hello, gorgeous. Are you new here?”

I roll my eyes at the guy using a bad pickup line. Pasting a polite smile on my face, I take in his attractive features—brown hair, dark eyes, chiseled jawline, perfect hair. There’s something about his muscular demeanor that screams jock to me.

“Yes. I’m a freshman.”

His smile widens, somehow looking predatory, but not in a good way. “An impressionable eighteen-year-old, huh? I’m Steve.” He tries to take my hand, but I move it away. “Steve Becker.”

I give him a cool smile, his words grating on my nerves. “First, I’m not impressionable.” He has no idea the shit I’ve seen in LA. “Second, I’m not eighteen.”

His smile fades. “Please don’t tell me you’re seventeen. ”

“No, I’m twenty.” I stop dancing, crossing my arms over my chest to deal with this presumptuous asshole.

“Ah, so you’re my age.” He flashes me a smug grin. “That doesn’t mean you’re not na?ve. What’s your name, pretty girl?”

“My name is not interested.” I spot Mandy talking to someone and turn away, but Steve grabs my arm.

“What’s your hurry? The night is young, and so are we.”

Irritation blooms through me, and my eyes narrow at him. “Are you finished with the bad pick-up lines? They do nothing for me.”

His brows draw together, anger brewing in his eyes. I shrug out of his grip and walk away. “I need some air,” I say to Mandy as I pass.

She nods. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

I weave through the throng of people, spotting the back door ahead.

Before I can reach it, strong hands grab me. “Where do you think you’re going?” A hand clamps over my mouth as he drags me down the hallway.

My eyes search for someone who can help me, but no one is paying attention to us.

I struggle, twisting and trying to slap at him, but my efforts are in vain. He shoves me into a room, pushing me so I stumble, sprawling onto the mattress on the bed.

“You’re gonna be so much fun, feisty girl.” He hits the light switch, and the lamp beside the bed turns on, illuminating the room with a shallow glow.

Steve.

I swallow hard, trying to get up, but my heel gets tangled in the blanket, and I fall.

Steve’s on me, his hands fisting my hair, tugging my head up. “Come on. You know you wanna kiss me.” He presses his disgusting mouth against mine as I claw at his skin. I bite his lip, and he curses, pulling away. Anger flares in his eyes before he slaps me, my cheek stinging.

He begins tugging at my shirt. I try to kick him, but he blocks it, pinning my leg beneath his as he falls on top of me.

Cold sweat envelops me as I try to push him off me, but he’s too heavy. My heart races, and the sensation of things moving too quickly to process barrels over me.

Help. Someone help me.

The door slams open, hitting the wall. An animalistic roar fills the room before Steve is pulled away from me.

Relief fills me as I sit up, spotting the purge masked wearing man. His fist slams against Steve’s face. He howls from the pain. The masked man doesn’t let up, beating the shit out of the asshole who was assaulting me. I wonder if he’s going to kill him.

Would I care if he did?

I run a shaky hand over my cheek, and a slight whimper comes from my lips.

The masked man’s head jerks up. He punches Steve once more, letting him drop to the floor before moving to me.

Gentle hands cup my face as he hunkers down in front of me. “Are you okay, Mallory?”

My lips tremble as I nod. His voice is soothing, sufficing me with safety.

Collapsing into his arms, I sob, “I’m so stupid. Why did I drink those shots? Then dancing with Mandy….”

“Hey, look at me.” He pulls back, his eyes intense beneath the mask. “Just because you drank shots and danced with your friend does not mean you invited an asshole to assault you.” His thumbs stroke my cheek. “That’s on him, not you.”

I wrap my arms around him, sobbing on his shoulder. He rubs soothing circles on my back, his lips pressing against my head. “Why don’t we get out of here? ”

I nod, still vulnerable. He scoops me up, carrying me down the hallway and out the back door.

When he settles me inside the passenger seat of his truck, I lean onto one hip, pulling my phone from my back pocket. “I need to text my friend and let her know I’m leaving so she doesn’t worry.”

My masked man nods, waiting as I text her before fastening my seatbelt. His soft eyes flit to mine, searching mine. His large hand cups my face, stroking it gently. I lean into his touch, feeling safe with him.

“I won’t let him hurt you,” he rasps.

“I know.”

Releasing my face, he shuts the door and quickly moves to the driver’s side of the truck.

As he drives me back to my apartment, I close my eyes, leaning back against the seat.

His hand reaches out, wrapping around mine. “You okay?”

Opening my eyes, I turn my head, a genuine smile on my lips.

My voice is soft when I answer, “I am now.”