The Bad Boy Hates Me

Chapter 7 - I'll Take You Home

"Are you that stupid?! He almost raped you!"

"If I didn't come over there, what happened to you?! He ravished your body and kissed you sensuously like somewhat you're a feast!"

I was scolded like a five-year-old kid who accidentally broke her grand grandmother's antique vase. I did my best to hold back the tears that are threatening to spill.

The cold breeze of midnight air kissed my skin, giving chills to my body. I caressed my arms to relieve the coldness I was feeling, but it didn't help that Ashton's cold glare sent shivers down my spine. Another snap coming from him and I might cry.

"You are so dense."

That's it.

"Excuse me?!" I snapped, "Dense? Seriously? I walked in there wearing like this not because I want them-- I want him to feast on me! My clothes do not suggest anything. Rape happens because of rapists not because of how girls wear clothes."

I hate how he rubbed it on my face and how idiotic I am for attending this party. How stupid I was for talking and dancing to a stranger, and especially for blaming me just because of how I wear. Remembering what happened back there makes my stomach churn and tears well up in my eyes. How the stranger got his hands on such a sensitive area of my body... how he kissed me forcefully... I shivered in disgust.

I wiped the tears that were streaming down my cheeks. I wiped the dreadful memory from my mind, as well as his assault kisses on my neck. I despise myself when I'm like this - a crying baby. It adds to my aggravation that in a simple crack the stupid tear will fall without any permission.

I sniffed. Passers-by looked at Ashton disapprovingly and shook their heads. If you know less, it appears that Ashton is the reason I am crying (which is half true). An inevitable sob escaped my lips, and Ashton made a strange sound coming from the back of his throat, pulling his hair in annoyance. He grabbed my wrist and dragged me into a black sedan parked across the street. He slid inside the driver seat and put the engine into life.

"Get in," he demanded.

But I didn't move an inch. I stood there like a statue, staring at him outside his car. I shifted my gaze away from him and back to the house.

What if he's just like him? But instead of just raping me, he'll stuff my body in a trunk and throw it somewhere out of sight?

I shuddered at the thought.

"If you're thinking I'll do something, I'll pass. Now I'm doing you a favor and hop in the car now." He snapped again.

The sharpness of his voice surprised me. I moved my knees stiffly and bent over his car, hesitantly. I hadn't even buckled my seatbelt when he pushed the car off the curb and drove like we were being pursued by turbo racers. I closed my eyes tightly and prayed that my dear life would not be taken from me. Oh, my God. I don't want to die just yet. I don't want to die—

Someone fillip my nose. God? Is that you? Where are you? Why can't I see you?

Someone fillip my nose again but this time a strike like my nose will rip-off from my face. My hands flew on my, I assumed, now red nose, and heaved a sigh of relief. I can feel my body, which means I'm alive.

Then who fillip my nose?

 I slowly opened my left eye to reveal a pair of deep ocean eyes staring back at me. I cleared my throat, shifted in my seat, grabbed my seatbelt, and buckled it. My cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Ghaaad. Blame it on the alcohol.

"Wh-Where are you taking me?" I stuttered.

"I'll take you home, dummy," Ashton said without sparing me a glance.