I jump back and drop my glass.

Everyone stops talking to stare at me, and I wonder if they would forget I was ever here if I made a mad dash to the exit right now. “S-Sorry, I’m such a klutz,” I mutter. I lean down to pick up the glass, but a bartender is already headed over with a broom.

Lars’ fingers are still curled around my wrist. My reaction didn’t seem to phase him, and he pulls me over to the dance floor with an impish smile stretched across his wide jaw. I catch Lily winking at me as I blindly follow the stranger out into the crowd, his large palm reaching behind my back and resting there. Tension and nerves sweep through me as the music blares louder, the crowd grows bigger, and the lights flash around me like a strobe, making me dizzy.

“Relax, doll,” Lars whispers, his voice buttery smooth.

It’s just a dance. You’re fine. You’re safe.

I rein in a sharp breath, trying to let go of the apprehension.

This isn’t me. I’ve always been fun and flirty, unafraid of male attention. I’m social and outgoing. I’ve never shied away from dancing, or casual touches, or compliments.

“I heard about your story,” Lars says, pulling me to his barreling chest. He’s a huge man, well over six-foot, with muscles and tattoos. “You’re a fighter.”

I inch back, keeping a gap between us. “It’s been hard,” I respond, feeling his hand squeeze mine. “Sorry if I seem like a spaz. I’m still adjusting.”

“No need to apologize, kitten.”

My blood runs cold, and I glance up at him through timid lashes. Lars smiles down at me, his fingers skimming up and down my spine with sensual strokes.

Suddenly, I’m in that basement again. Earl is violating me while Dean talks me through it.

Look at me. Focus on me. It’s just you and me, Cora.

These hands on me feel strange and unfamiliar. His eyes are much too dark, his voice missing that playful edge. His skin is too rough and his hair is too long.

This is wrong. It’s all wrong.

I feel like everything is spinning, and I’m not sure if I should hold on for dear life or run away.

“You all right?” Lars asks, tipping his head back to study me.

I’m certain I’ve gone ashen, and my chest feels like it’s going to explode. “I-I can’t do this.”

“Need some water?”

I shake my head, taking hesitant steps backwards. “I think I need to go.”

I don’t wait for Lars to respond. I make a quick stop over to Lily to let her know I’m not feeling well, then I call an Uber and get the hell out of there.

Ten minutes later, I’m standing on his front stoop.

I knock four times before the door swings open and Dean is standing in front of me, tired and disheveled, with a look of utter confusion creasing his brow. “Cora? Are you okay?”