Stabbed

The crowd was growing wild as midnight drew closer. More and more people were getting drunk, especially my friends. I’d had quite a lot to drink myself, enough to keep up with them.

I suddenly stopped dancing when I felt a hand roaming the sensitive parts of my body. I turned angrily to the man behind me—only for him to grin back at me.

Before I knew it, I had already slapped him. 

“Pervert!” I shouted as I moved away from him. 

That was when I realized I’d already wandered far from my friends.

“Oh, come on. I know you want it. Don’t play hard to get, sweetheart.”

I shuddered when I felt something hard pressing against my back and heard him whisper in my ear.

“Your place or mine?”

“Damn you!” I yelled and shoved him away.

He tried to follow me, but another man suddenly stepped between us. I took that chance to escape the pervert who had ruined my night.

“F*ck! I’m bleeding! Help me!”

I frowned and turned toward the loud voice, then swallowed hard when I recognized the man who had harassed me, clutching his side. I covered my mouth when I saw the blood on his hand.

Someone stabbed him?

People started screaming, chaos erupting as everyone rushed for the exit. I was shoved along with the crowd, nearly losing my balance.

I almost fell when a hand suddenly grabbed my wrist and pulled me away from the crowd.

“Who are you?” I asked the person dragging me along… a woman?

Her long hair slipped free from the cap that had been knocked loose by the crowd. She was wearing a mask and sunglasses.

She let go of me once we were outside the bar.

“Rebecca!”

I turned toward the voice and saw Nathalia and the others, clearly looking for me. When I glanced back at the woman who had helped me, she was already gone.

“Thank goodness you made it out! They said someone got stabbed inside.”

I nodded absently, pressing a hand to my chest as my heart pounded.

“Y-yeah,” I managed to say, remembering that the man who’d been stabbed was the same one who had harassed me.

It seemed like the shock sobered all of us up—except Janna, who was practically lying on the sidewalk.

“Party’s over! See you at your bridal shower, Rebecca! We’ll miss you. Too bad you won’t be joining us for the next show.”

“I’ll visit the theater when I’m not busy.”

I waved at my friends as they climbed into their respective rides.

“Are you sure you’re not riding with us, Rebecca?”

I shook my head and yawned, sleepiness creeping in from the mix of alcohol and exhaustion.

“I already booked a ride. He’ll be here in a minute,” I answered Sabel.

I wanted to go with them, but it would be inconvenient since my apartment was out of the way.

Less than a minute after they left, a car pulled up in front of me. I got in and tried calling Tim to tell him I was on my way home, but he didn’t answer.

Dizziness washed over me from all the alcohol, so I closed my eyes—and before I knew it, I’d fallen asleep.

I stirred briefly when my phone rang. It stopped soon after, so I ignored it. When I looked outside, I realized I was already at my apartment.

“W-why didn’t you wake me up?” I asked, thanking the driver before getting out.

As I searched for my keys, my phone rang again. I answered—and froze at what I heard.

“Ma’am, I’ve been calling you for a while. You’re not at your pinned location.”

“W-what? What are you talking about, sir? I’m already home. Weren’t you the one I rode with?”

“Huh? No, ma’am! You might be drunk—”

I ended the call, my hands trembling as I unlocked the gate. My knees nearly gave out as I entered.

If the person I rode with wasn’t the one I booked… then who was he? And how did he know where Tim and I lived?

I held my forehead, fear flooding me as I went inside. I locked all the doors and windows before heading up to my bedroom.

I sat on the bed and dialled my fiancé’s number, but he still didn’t answer.

Tim, where the hell are you?

I didn’t even manage to change clothes before collapsing onto the bed. My thoughts about who I’d ridden with—and how he knew my address—eventually faded as I fell asleep.

I woke up to soft kisses on my face. When I opened my eyes, Timothy’s smiling face greeted me.

I closed my eyes when he kissed my lips, but before it could deepen, I pushed him away, remembering that he hadn’t been home all night.

“What time did you get back?” I asked with a frown as I sat up.

He cleared his throat. “Sorry, love. I got home past six. I was totally wasted last night. Raul and the others couldn’t drive me here since they’d been drinking too.”

“Really? Then where did you sleep?”

“At Jimmy’s,” he replied casually.

I stared into his eyes, then looked away when a sharp headache hit me.

Hangovers suck.

“I made some soup. I’ve got meds for your headache, too. How about some chocolate cake after?”

I pouted and hugged Timothy—he really did know exactly what I craved when I had a hangover.

“You haven’t slept properly, and you’re still going to work?”

He shook his head and kissed my temple. “I napped a bit, but I’m not going to work today. We’re going to the wedding shop, right?”

I smacked my forehead. “Oh shoot!”

I checked the time and winced when I saw that it was already past nine. Our appointment was at eight.

“Your mom’s going to be mad at me again.”

“Nah. I called and rescheduled it after lunch. Told her I had an important meeting.”

I smiled up at him. “You’re the best, Timothy! But this better be the last time you stay out all night—who knows, maybe you didn’t really go to Jimmy’s,” I teased.

He pinched my cheek. “Let me prepare your bath so you can stop imagining things.”

“I’ll ask the security guard for a copy of the CCTV footage. Let’s check the plate number,” Timothy said as he drove, after I told him about what happened the night before.

“It was really scary. And there’s more—someone harassed me, and then everything happened so fast. Someone stabbed him. The bar went into chaos. Good thing someone helped me get out.”

“Harassed you? Who was that bastard? Good thing he got stabbed. I hope he’s not doing well.”

I shook my head at his reaction. “You’re terrible. Even if he’s a pervert, that’s still a crime.”

“You’re such an angel. But back to what you said—someone helped you? Was it a guy?”

I smiled, catching the jealousy in his voice. “Nope. Not a knight in shining armor—a woman, wearing a mask.”

“Whoever she is, I’m deeply grateful she helped my wife.”

“Hey. I’m not your wife yet.”

He laughed. “Soon, very soon—”

Timothy suddenly cursed nonstop when another car overtook us.

“Just because your car’s nice, you think you can show off!” he shouted, his ears turning red as he angrily honked and sped up, clearly intending to chase the other vehicle.

“Timothy, just let it go, please. Slow down,” I warned, glancing at the car we’d pulled alongside.

My lips parted when I saw who was driving.

That man.

Mr. Davidson.