10

10

Bethany's POV

The world had narrowed into a swirl of blurred shapes and muted sounds. My body felt heavy, my limbs uncooperative, as if someone had wrapped me in a thick, suffocating fog. I couldn't focus on anything, couldn't make sense of where I was or how I'd ended up here. My last coherent memory was of Chris leading me into the back hallway, his voice soft and reassuring as he promised to help me.

Now, I was slumped against the cool tiles of the restroom, my legs refusing to obey my commands. Chris was crouched in front of me, his hand resting lightly on my arm as he murmured something I couldn't quite process.

"You're safe," he said, his voice low and too close. "Just relax."

But something was wrong with the way his touch lingering a moment too long. My instincts screamed at me to move, to get away, but my body wouldn't cooperate. A faint pulse of panic continued to rise in my chest.

"Chris…" I managed to croak, my voice barely audible. "I… I need to go."

His smile was unsettling, his fingers tightening slightly on my arm. "Not yet," he said softly. "You're not in any state to leave. Just let me take care of you."

The words sent a chill through me, cutting through the haze enough for me to realize just how vulnerable I was. I tried again to move, to push him away, but my limbs felt like lead and my strength sapped.

Chris's demeanor shifted, his tone taking on an unsettling edge. "You're fine, Bethany. Stop fighting it. Just—"

The door to the restroom slammed open with a force that echoed off the tiled walls. The sound was sharp and commanding, effectively slicing through the fog in my mind. Chris froze, his hand jerking back as a someone watched from the entrance.

"What the hell is going on here?" a deep, authoritative voice demanded.

I turned my head sluggishly, my vision swimming as I tried to focus on the figure standing in the doorway. He was tall, his broad shoulders blocking out most of the light from the hallway behind him. His presence was overwhelming, radiating a quiet power that made the air in the room feel heavier.

Chris scrambled to his feet, his expression shifting from shock to defensive indignation. "Hey, man, this isn't your business. She's—"

"She's clearly not okay," the man interrupted, his tone icy and unforgiving. He took a step forward, his piercing gaze locked onto Chris. "And you don't look like you're trying to help."

Chris bristled, but there was a flicker of unease in his posture. "I was just—"

"Save it," the man snapped, cutting him off again. "Step away from her. Now."

Chris hesitated, his eyes darting between me and the stranger. For a moment, I thought he might argue, but something in the man's unyielding expression made him think twice. He took a step back, his hands raised defensively.

"Fine," Chris muttered, his tone sullen. "I was just trying to help. She's had a rough night."

The man ignored him, his focus shifting to me. His expression softened slightly, concern replacing the cold steel that had been directed at Chris. "Miss," he said gently, crouching down to meet my gaze. "Can you hear me? Are you okay?"

I nodded weakly, though I wasn't sure if it was true. My head still felt heavy, my thoughts sluggish, but the panic that had been bubbling beneath the surface eased slightly at the sound of his voice. There was something steadying about him, something that made me feel safe despite the chaos in my mind.

"She's fine," Chris interjected, his voice tight with frustration. "She just had a little too much to drink—"

"I didn't ask you," the man said sharply, not bothering to look at him. His eyes remained on me, calm and steady. "Do you want to leave, miss?"

"Yes," I whispered, the word barely audible but filled with desperation.

The man nodded once, his expression hardening as he rose to his full height. "Then you're coming with me."

Chris stepped forward, his face twisted in anger. "Hey, you can't just—"

"I can," the man said, his voice cutting through Chris's protests like a blade. "And I will."

Chris muttered, his tone venomous as he backed away. "She doesn't even know you."

The man didn't respond, his attention already back on me. He crouched again, his movements careful and deliberate as if he didn't want to startle me. "I'm going to help you stand," he said softly. "Can you lean on me?"

I nodded, my body still sluggish and uncooperative. He slipped an arm around my waist, his touch firm but gentle, and helped me to my feet. My legs wobbled, and I instinctively clung to him for support. His grip tightened slightly, steadying me as I swayed.

"Easy," he murmured. "I've got you."

There was a strange comfort in his presence that made me feel like he wouldn't let anything happen to me.

While the man helped me out of the bar, I caught a glimpse of Chris standing in the hallway, his expression dark with frustration and resentment. The man didn't spare him a glance, his focus entirely on me as he led me toward the bar's exit.

"Who… are you?" I managed to ask, my voice shaky.

"Adrian," he replied simply, his tone steady. "We'll talk more once you're safe."

Adrian led me to a sleek black car parked just outside the bar, its polished surface glinting under the streetlights. He opened the passenger door while holding me gently.

"Sit," he instructed gently, helping me lower myself into the seat. "We'll get you somewhere secure."

I hesitated, my mind swimming with questions, but the exhaustion in my body won out. As the door closed behind me, I leaned back against the seat, my eyes drifting shut as the exhaustation of the night finally caught up with me.

For the first time since everything had fallen apart, I felt like I could breathe. I closed my eyes and let the darkness claim me.