Disclaimer I don't own One Tree Hill nor it's characters.

To my readers I'm so sorry that it took so long for me to write this! I promise that future chapters will be longer, too. Sorry, once again!

Tric

Lucas wandered towards the bar, having nothing else to do. Peyton had gone to talk to the band members that were supposedly playing tonight. The bartender was a slim girl with blonde hair and chocolate eyes. She smiled at Lucas and asked him what he would like to drink.

"I think I'll have two Bud Lites, please," he responded, heavily. Ever since he had left the house, his thoughts constantly wandered back to Brooke and what had happened to her. It was getting serious now. Before, when they had entered Tric, he looked around for her but had no luck in finding the brunette. She would have been here, partying around with the guys and being the center of attention on the dance floor.

"Hey, Lucas. Why are you acting so broody," Peyton teased. His reaction was not what she expected.

"Why aren't you worried, Peyton?! I'm concerned about Brooke. Nobody has seen her for three days now." He began to run his hand through his hair, a sign of agitation.

"Fine, Lucas. If it'll make you happy, we'll go over to her house tonight and check up on her. I'm sure she'll be there eating her ice cream and watching those chick-flicks that she likes so much. She probably skipped school because she's sick and she didn't tell us so that we wouldn't worry. And that's what you shouldn't do, Lucas. You shouldn't worry." She took one of his Bud Lites, opened it, and took a sip. "Anyways, she's not your girlfriend anymore. I am," she stated, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"Ok, sure, whatever, Peyton. As long as we find her there, I'll stop worrying," he replied tiredly. "But for now, I'm still uneasy about this." He walked away from his girlfriend and headed outside. Looking around the parking lot, his gaze got caught by a slender brunette walking towards her car. He began to run towards the girl and as he caught up to her, he grabbed her arm. "Brooke…" When the girl turned around to face him with a scared look, he could see that it wasn't his ex-girlfriend. She didn't look anything like her. Her eyes were blue and she was wearing glasses, definitely not one of Brooke's accessories.

"I-I'm sorry," Lucas apologized to the girl. "I thought that you were this girl that I knew." The girl just huffed, shook his hand off her arm, and walked away.

He walked back into the club and sat on one of the empty chairs littering the lounge. Sighing, he took another sip out of his beer and closed his eyes, waiting for the end of tonight's party.

'Derek's' Apartment

'Derek' pulled Brooke towards his bed insistently and began to laugh.

"My real name's Ian. It's a much sexier name than Derek, eh?" he said as he smirked.

Brooke's heart began to pound so hard that it began to ache. She pulled back against his unrelenting grip and shook her head. "Please, Ian. Don't do this," she pleaded.

"Why shouldn't I?" he replied, a hard glint to his eye. He pulled harder, the force of it causing Brooke to land right on her face. "Woops. Sorry?" Her body was racking with her distressed sobs.

"Come on. Get up!" Derek pulled her arm, causing her to shout in pain in between her sobs. She got up and he towed her towards the bed. He picked her up and threw her onto the bed. Brooke began to cry even harder, pleading for him not to do it. Ian ignored her pleas and started to unbuckle his belt. As he slipped that off, he unbuttoned his pants and let them slide to the floor. He got onto the bed and put his leg over Brooke's body so that he could crouch over all of her. He put his head near her face and licked her neck. Usually Brooke loved this kind of thing, but in this kind of situation with this kind of guy, it was more than disgusting. She put both hands on his shoulders and pushed as hard as she could.

"Get off of me, you sick bastard!" She scrambled off the bed and ran to the door that she has just entered.

"Oh no you don't, Brooke," Ian growled and leaped off the bed towards her running form. He caught her before she reached the door and grabbed her waist, hoisting her body up over his shoulder. Carrying her towards his bed once again, he dumped her onto the comforters and pinned her down with his powerful arms.

"You're not getting away this time, you little bitch," he snarled, his teeth bared. Brooke pounded his body with her fists, hitting him everywhere that she could reach. Ian ignored her punches and initiated in kissing her again. He put his mouth on her chin and began to suck. Brooke gagged and heaved in a breath. She punched harder, but it was no use, so instead, she bit his nose. He cried out in pain. "Son of a bitch!" And punched her in the face. Her face burned with the forceful contact of his fist and began to throb painfully. She knew it would leave a horrid bruise, but she could cover it up with just enough foundation. What am I thinking, she thought to herself, surprised.

Ian turned back towards Brooke's face and grimaced. "You'll regret that, little girl." He grabbed her face in between each of his hands, making it so that she couldn't move her face. He forced a hard kiss onto her mouth and sought to stick his tongue into her pursed lips. But she wouldn't let him. He began to run his hands down her body to her stomach and made swirls around her covered belly button. Brooke gasped, startled, which left an opening for his tongue. He stuck it hard into her mouth, tasting her. She choked on his saliva and tried pushing him off, but was unsuccessful. He was too heavy for her. His tongue began to explore the insides of her mouth. Brooke bit down hard on his tongue, resulting in his blood flooding into her mouth. The taste of blood and iron made Brooke spit the disgusting filth onto his face, right into his eyes. Ian screamed in agony from the pain in his mouth and the blood in his eyes.

Brooke crawled off the bed and attempted to escape again. This time, she made it to the door. She opened it silently, but quickly, and ran out. Adrenaline, along with the fear of his pursuit, poured into her bloodstream. She ran down the stairs, scrambled to open the front door, and stumbled out onto the street. She looked around her to see where she was exactly and decided to take a left. Hearing a thud of feet in the apartment, she ran as fast as she could down her chosen street. She was running for her life.