Page 127 of Knox Academy Omnibus
Reluctantly, I pull myself out of Baxter’s arms. Damn it feels nice to be held. There’s no denying that my panties are a little damp after that kiss. Not from the kiss itself, but from the way Onyx looked at me. Pretty sure I’m playing a dangerous game, absolutely certain I’m too drunk to care. I live for pushing these boys to breaking point.
“I’ll catch you up,” I tell Elsie, detangling myself from Baxter’s embrace. “I have to go pee.”
I saunter off, leaving everyone behind, and start to make my way through the winding corridors of the tunnels. The cooler air hits me and I stumble. Damn, maybe I should have eaten something. I look around for a buffet table, but of course there isn’t one. I could do with some fresh air, or food, or the loo. What was I doing again?
I turn a corner and fall into one of the smaller side caves that the twins once showed me at the last tunnel party I came to. I don't think it’s the same one though. The last one was pretty and cosy, whereas this is...just a dank cave. I go to turn back, but my way is blocked by several guys all standing in the entrance.
“Excuse me,” I say, trying to get past. They move to trap me inside. “Hey!” I cry indignantly as I’m shoved backwards further into the small cave-like space. Six bodies follow me, all tall, wide, imposing, and suddenly the small space feels incredibly claustrophobic.
“Excuse me,” I try again. “I really need to pee.”
“You’re in luck, we love water sports!” The guy closest to me grins. He has a shaved head and he truly looks like a thug. It’s a stark reminder of where I am and who I go to school with. Fuck. Maybe I should have listened to everyone when they said people were mad. That I needed protection.
“Knew she was a kinky bitch from that video!”
The mention of the video has my spine snapping straight in fear. In an instant I feel stone-cold sober, even though I know I’m probably not. There’s six of them. Like before. All bigger, stronger, and I’m pretty sure, older. Like before. Automatically I check my exit options: no windows, one doorway, currently blocked by more muscle. Holy shit, one of them is holding a phone up. Are they recording this?
Think, Amelie, think! I order myself, only my stupid traitorous brain decides that the best way to help me is to give me a flashback.
“Self-defence, when taught properly, can save your life.”
Sawyer’s lecture from last term enters my mind. He never did give me advice on how to save myself from six on one. We got distracted by the kissing.
His lips sear mine, branding and burnishing them; like he’s claiming them for himself.
Damn, never thought I’d regret kissing Sawyer. Still, I’ll take a flashback with him any day, over what really happened the last time six grown men had me trapped in a small space alone.
The first one reaches out to touch me and bile rises to my mouth. I spit it out, on the shoes of the thug with the shaved head, and it earns me a stinging backhander across the face.
“Fucking bitch!” he spits. That’s just rude. I could have spat the bile in his face, but at least I aimed for the floor. He offers me no such courtesy. He invades my space, getting right up in my face and pressing his body against mine. I gag and my stomach roils.
“I feel sick,” I groan. Not lying; I do feel sick. My head is pounding, the room spinning, and sweat is pouring off me.
“Dude, maybe we should just let her go,” another voice this time coming from my right says.
“She’s faking.”
“I’m not,” I insist.
“I don’t want to have an orgy with someone who’s gonna puke on me!”
“Gangbang,” I correct. Goddamnit I can’t help myself.
“What?” the second speaker asks. There’s an air of agitation in the room, everyone restless and uncomfortable. Gotta hand it to them, they’re bold as brass to pull this stunt at a Knox party.
“An orgy is everyone having sex with each other. A gangbang is where you all fuck one person. I’m guessing, in this situation, that would be me.”
“Correct.” Thug number one grins at me. He licks his lips lasciviously and I gag.
“Unless you’re planning on taking turns on each other,” I quip. I can’t help myself.I’m going to die, I internally groan at myself.
“Shut the bitch up, I’m no fag!” the second voice snaps.
“Shut up! She’s stalling. Let’s do this,” thug-face says.
Two more guys step forward, roughly grabbing my arms and wrenching them behind my back. That’s when I start to really struggle. Only, all my thrashing does is upset my stomach even more and make the roomreallyspin. Thug-face comes at me with a knife, and the others all press in, crowding me, except for the cameraman and the lookout.
When the brute slides his knife along my bare thigh and up, under my dress, I bite my tongue to keep from screaming. I will not cry, I will not beg. I will fight. Somehow.
