Chapter 2: Chase

"C'mon, it's just a kiss for damn sake," urged Edward, smiling mischievously after licking his lips. He had already been tamed by a pint of beer, yet not enough to control his raging system. An athlete, a swimmer specifically, tall and muscular, it was undeniable that his handsome face held irresistible charisma. That's why it was a well-known buzz that he had already almost fucked every girl of the class, maybe except her. Presently, he was standing next to her, while she was a minuscule beside, his arm now reaching for her waist. They were alone at the second-floor open balcony, which he had insisted and she hadn't hesitantly opposed, looking over the crazy people dancing awkwardly down below already influenced by both drugs and alcohol and their hormones.

    This party, she'd just realized now, he had set up merely as a ploy to prey her. How did she fail to notice that? How did she fail to realize that her friends were complicit in this, towards her doom? But what if she had known this all along but never weighed its importance or considered its consequences and just foolishly went along with it simply because this was actually her form of rebellion against her life, the world, her dad, the truth she'd been denying for a long time already? She was nothing now.

    "I don't like to, I'm sorry," she said dismissively, nervously sipping on, but actually just smelling the clear glass filled with orange juice, and pulling herself away from Edward's territorial grasp.

    "I will pay you," he added, face unwavering.

    That made her look furiously at him. "Fuck you." The glass she was holding almost choked against her hand.

    Edward just chuckled, eyes burning with heated anticipation. "It's been a common gossip. Your dad's companies going bankrupt—"

    "You don't know anything." She swallowed the apparent stone magically appeared on her throat.

    He leered at her. "I don't have to know anything to know something." He was thinking for a moment. "How much do you want exactly—"

    "I said no."

    He bursted another laughter. "You don't know how far money can reach, not anymore." His tone was mingled with mockery. "Can't you see? This might be a blessing in disguise. For your dad's temporary release in the future, or for his burial perhaps—"

    "Shut up!" She felt her head breaking apart, her knees trembling, rushing heartbeats she could hear behind her ears. While her eyes brimmed with tears, then flowed silently down her cheeks, tickling her.

    "Use your lips, then." He went nearer to her. "Much better, fuck me up."

    He was so gracefully fast that she had only seen the blur of his motion and just found herself caged and already helpless around him with an arm alone, cornering her with his huge and hard body against the marbled railing, the glass shattered and wailed below upon the sudden fall, orange juice spilled on their feet like unexpected summer light she couldn't wipe away. She tried to push him with both of her fisted hands against his chest but to no avail. He didn't budge even a bit. He grinned seeing her hopelessness. It was apparent he was the dominant one in terms of strength and immediately she felt him on her navel: warm, growing rapidly and determined, poking her senses. His other arm he wrapped around her behind for total enclosure, pushing her towards him, grinding himself against the silk of her dress. She heard him moan against her heated ears, growling crisp curses as he breathed heavily in pleasure. She recoiled in utter disgust and fear, stepping a feet backward, almost dedicated to let herself fall from the second floor rather than be near him and feel his fucking erection.

    However both of them stood frozen when someone below called her name.

    "Maddie!" That domineering voice she knew exactly where it belonged. "Madeline!"

    She quickly darted her eyes to the origin of the shout and saw his dad, only wearing a white shirt and a boxer dispersing the curious and gossiping crowd, running past the given space near the pool and looking up at her. His faced was laced with nothing but concern, not anger or anything, but a vulnerable emotion she'd never seen before directed to her not until her mom's death. Or all along, she had just refused to acknowledge his genuine concern to her. Because this wasn't him she knew when she was a child. The kindness she wasn't really used to. And she hated it, him, herself, his change. How his redemption, his reconciliation with goodness, it took her mother's life away as a necessity to pave way for their mutual acceptance. How fool was she to allow such thing to unfold? For him to be forgiven right away? For his past actions to be forgotten right away? But did she have else to choose from, though? For he was, after all, his dad. The remaining family she had. Who else should she find any more reason to live? Someone she'd care for with all her being to get through this life and be done with it?

    She felt Edward pull himself away with gritted teeth, retrieved something on his shorts, and called the security guards to stop the trespasser.

    Immediately she almost said, "No!" But she knew, and it was obvious she held no power or anything to command anyone what to do. So she remained silent before her mouth even opened.

    "Hold him tight. Use force if necessary. I'll call my dad." Then he hung up the call. He looked devilishly at her. "You and your family are really good at ruining everyone's happiness, aren't you? I'll make your dad rot in hell while I'm enjoying myself fucking you in heaven."

    There was a faint voice inside her throbbing mind that was telling her to run. And she did. But Edward was swift and quickly wrapped her wrist. "You aren't going anywhere, bitch!"

    She tried to break free from his grip but his fingers were slithered tightly around her, feeling his powerful force down to her bones, her blood stopped from their track to sustain her life. She was about to kick him when suddenly there was a faint flash bursted below down the venue and the sound of gunshot reverberated. Edward's apparent shock gave way to her victorious escape and she immediately—although stunned herself by the foreboding sound, pushed the door open, unconsciously ran five long step each down the stairs, and about to stumble down the well-polished tiles below. And yet, fortunate enough to get out, she immediately proceeded outside. There was an outcry of fear and panic swirling on the crowd, a gathering storm of chaos.