I eyed the door, but there was no way I could get off the bed and through it before one of them caught me. They were sitting and standing throughout the room, and one of the guys in a vest seemed to be standing guard in front of the door. Why would he be guarding the door? Oh God, I was in so much trouble.

The second I was about to panic—crying and screaming for them to let me go—the man closest to me sat down on the edge of the bed. He was extremely good looking, and probably not that much older than I was, though he had a full beard covering the lower half of his face. When he reached out to lay his hand on my knee, I squeaked in fear and pulled my legs closer to my body. God, I didn’t want him to touch me.

“Hey, not gonna hurt you,” he told me quietly. “You passed the fuck out and we had no idea where to take you. Now that you’re awake, you can call someone to come and get ya.”

His voice, so different from the tone he’d used earlier, calmed me down enough that I was able to look up into his eyes. As soon as I saw them, I remembered the night in a rush of clarity. He’d saved me. He’d taken me out of that house with the disgusting guy that was trying to pull me upstairs. Before the thought was even finished in my mind, I’d launched myself across the bed and into his lap sideways, wrapping my arms tight around his neck.

“Thank you. Thank you,” I told him over and over again, pressing my forehead into his neck. I didn’t realize that he hadn’t touched me until his hands gripped my upper arms and pushed me away from him.

“The fuck are you doing?” he asked me, his eyebrows furrowed.

“You took me out of there. Oh my God, thank you,” I told him again, straining against his hold.

“Babe, I’m not sure if whatever you were on just hasn’t worn off yet, or if you’re fuckin’ naïve as hell, but you can’t sit on my fuckin’ lap,” he mumbled as he pushed me onto the bed.

My face blushed beet red as I realized what I had done. The man wasn’t a policeman or a fireman. He wasn’t a family member. Shit, he wasn’t even like the guys I knew from school. He was big, strong, and completely rough around the edges. I’d been so thankful to be out of the house, I hadn’t grasped the actual situation I was in. I was surrounded by men that I didn’t know from Adam, and they were all staring at me as if I’d just sprouted horns.

“I’m, uh, sorry,” I whispered, worried about what would happen next.

“No need to be sorry. Just need to get you home. You got someone you can call?” he asked as he walked toward the dresser with a cell phone sitting on top of it. He tossed it to the bed, and I reached out quickly to grab it. I needed to get home, but my stubborn pride wouldn’t allow me to call my parents. I wasn’t sure what to do, but he was treating me like an adult, and for some reason I didn’t want to look like a kid in front of him.

I should have been scared as hell, but I wasn’t. I was just … worried. I wasn’t sure what would happen next, but the guy didn’t set off any alarm bells. He’d protected me, and that’s what I felt—protected. I was pretty concerned with how things would play out, though. I couldn’t just sit there on the bed indefinitely, looking at the phone, while the men in the room watched me in silence. The man in the corner made my skin crawl a little, and though my protector seemed to be in charge, I knew with the slightest provocation that the man in the corner would make his play.

“Um, I don’t have anyone to come get me tonight,” I told The Protector, “But I’ll call my Gram. She can come get me in the morning. She can’t drive at night,” I hurried to explain before running my tongue between my braces and my lips. My mouth was dry from whatever I’d drunk at the party, and my lips were starting to stick to the little metal brackets in my mouth.

“Yeah. Call her. But tell her I’ll bring you home,” he grumbled, staring at my lips.

“But—,” I started, but he cut me off.

“No. You’re not staying the night in my goddamn motel room. Not gonna happen. Call your fuckin’ grandmother, or a friend, or your fuckin’ priest, but you’re not staying here.”

His voice was so sharp that I felt my breath catch in my throat. I mean, I knew I was a nuisance, and I could tell that they didn’t know what to do with me, but he didn’t have to be so mean about it.

I flipped open the phone and dialed the number from memory as The Protector went to stand against the wall, his eyes never leaving me. After only half a ring, she answered.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Gram. What are you doing up this late?” I put my hand to my forehead in embarrassment as one of the guys chuckled quietly at my attempt of small talk.

“Callie? What’s going on? Where are you? This isn’t your number.”

“Yeah, I lost my phone.” I looked up to see The Protector swinging my purse from side to side across the room. Okay, I guess I didn’t lose my phone. “Well, I mean, I couldn’t find my purse.”

“Your purse? Why aren’t you at home?” she asked, and I could hear her leaning forward in her creaky recliner.

“It’s a long story, Gram. I’m on my way—I have a friend bringing me to your house. If Mom calls can you tell her I’m there and I’m asleep?” I asked, crossing my fingers. Asking Gram to cover for me was hit or miss, I wasn’t sure if she would help me out.

After a minute of silence, she answered slowly, “Yeah, I’ll tell them. But if you’re not here in an hour, I’m calling your dad.”