“So, the guy in the corner?” he whispers in my ear, his voice suddenly sounding a bit more upbeat. “Do you know him?”

I look in the far back corner, at a man sitting in a booth, staring at me. He has a hoodie pulled over his head, but the lighting is bright enough that I can make out some of his features—a straight nose, full lips, a scruffy jawline, and a scar running down his left eye. He looks around our age, maybe a few years older, and he makes no effort to look away from me when our gazes collide.

“I’m … I’m not sure,” I say, holding the guy’s gaze to try to show that I’m not intimidated by him. “He seems sort of familiar, but I’m not sure why.”

Hunter sinks into silence as he continues to guide me toward a spot where the crowd grows thicker. I seriously can almost taste the sweat in the air.

Barf.

“I don’t like the way he’s looking at you,” he mutters, his grip on my waist tightening.

I’m not sure if I like the way he’s looking at me, either, but I can’t seem to take my eyes off the man. I carry his gaze all the way until we near the exit. Then our connection breaks as a fight breaks out and I’m suddenly shoved to the side. Hunter loses his grip on my waist, and Jax’s hand slips from mine as the throng of drunken people swallows me up. I don’t panic as I shove people back. I’m holding my own pretty well, too, until I feel someone move up close behind me. For a second, I think it’s one of the guys, but then a hand clamps down across my mouth as an arm wraps around my waist. Then they start dragging me backward, away from the fight.

Panic whips through me as déjà vu sets in. I start to lift my hand to reach up and punch them in the face while opening my mouth to bite down when they promptly let me go.

They have managed to drag me into the hallway where the bathrooms are located, along with a side exit. Only a few people are lingering around, and they all look plastered.

I whirl around with my fists raised, preparing to fight whoever dragged me here. When I see the guy who was staring at me earlier, I’ll admit I’m not that surprised. I am, however, freaked the hell out.

He quickly puts his hand to the side. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

I continue to make a fist. “If that’s true, then why did you drag me back here?”

He sweeps his gaze across me, as if searching for something, before he locks his gaze on mine. “You really don’t remember, do you?”

His particular choice of words sends a chill down my spine, but I play it cool. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I’m outta here.” With that, I turn to leave.