PAIGE
It was just a couple, laughing and stumbling out of the restrooms, their eyes glazed with champagne. They glanced at us, saw a man and a woman in a heated discussion, and looked away.
No help. No one ever wants to get involved.
His head snapped back to me, his eyes glinting with a new, dangerous light now that we were alone again. He still didn't let go. His grip just got tighter, his fingers like steel bands around my wrist. The bones ached.
"Let go of me," I said, my voice low and shaking. I tried to pull back, planting my heels into the plush carpet.
"Or what?" he sneered, his voice a low, ugly whisper. He leaned in, his face too close to mine. The smell of stale champagne on his breath made my stomach turn. "You'll make a scene? Go ahead. Scream. See who they believe. The disgraced Rimestone girl, or me?"
