This was his 4th bottle of beer, and fuck it wouldn't be the last. The bitter taste of alcohol burned his throat as he slammed the empty bottle down on the kitchen counter. The loud music from the birthday party throbbed through the floorboards, matching the pounding of his rage.

He was enervated in rage; over the last week this goddamn poor girl had managed to befriend—or how he liked to call it 'infiltrate'—his friend group. The doorbell rang and there she was. Fucking slut, with that slutty and cheap outfit she probably bought on sale, he thought as he followed her moves across the salon. The sway of her hips made his jaw clench and his cock stir uncomfortably in his expensive jeans.

'Fuck this is the last straw, not at my best friend's birthday party,' he muttered through gritted teeth. He pushed through the crowd, ignoring the calls of his friends, focused solely on her. He found her alone near the staircase, checking her phone with a small smile. Without a word, he grabbed her arm and pulled her into the dark space under the stairs, the musty smell of dust and old wood surrounding them. 'How much for the night slut?' he hissed mockingly, his hot breath against her neck.