When I wake up I am no longer in the alley near the club. I am laying on a bed in what looks to be someone's bedroom.

I sit up quickly letting out a startled groan at the pain that courses through my body at the motion. I look down at myself to see that I am no longer in my dress from the club; I am wearing a large white T-shirt and grey sweatpants that still have the lingering scent of male body wash.

I immediately start freaking out. Whose clothes are these, who changed me out of my own clothes, and where the hell am I?

I stand up to run to the door but quickly fall back onto the bed when the entire room spins. Slowly the events of the night come back to me and I remember everything in horrifying detail; the spray of blood when the man was shot in the head, the smear of his blood on my own hands as I fought off one of his killers...the sound of my own skull being pounded into the brick wall.

Even in my dizzy state I have to run and stumble my way into what I assume is an adjoining bathroom and barely make it to the toilet before throwing up, nothing left in my stomach but bile.

After several minutes of dry heaving and unbearable waves of nausea, I am finally able to slowly catch my breathe and crawl my way towards the counter where the sink is. I grab the counter pulling myself onto my feet slowly, what I see in the mirror has me bursting into tears.

There are mottled blue and purple bruises all along my neck, clearly in the shape of the hand that had choked me earlier. My hair is tangled and matted and my lips are cut and swollen from where I must have bitten them in my terror. My entire body is sore and I am sure that my back is just as bruised from hitting the wall.

I catch my breath once more before hobbling my way back into the bedroom. This time I take the time to take in my surroundings thinking that in any other situation this would be a nice bedroom. It is modernly decorated with grey walls and a stark white ceiling. The bed sits against the same wall as the door to the bedroom and faces the opposite wall where a sleek-looking tv is mounted. To my right are a cushioned chair and small side table that look to be sitting in front of a bank of windows currently covered by grey blackout curtains.

I try the door first, hoping that my suspicions are wrong. But upon trying to pull the door open I see that my instincts were right, the door is locked. I hold onto the bed as I make my way across the room to push the curtains aside. But, it is pointless. It is pitch black outside and even still I can tell that this window is not on the ground level.

I turn away from the window, my eyes darting around looking for anything that could be used to protect myself. But, I know that in my weakened state I wouldn't be able to put up much of a fight if I had to.

I hear footsteps outside the door and quickly shuffle over to the dresser that sits underneath the tv. At the corner is a large empty glass vase, I grab it and hold it up like a baseball bat, wincing at the pain radiating from my back and shoulder blades.

I hear the click of a lock and the door swings open and in strolls a man. This isn't either of the men who were in the alley.

This man is tall and broad-shouldered, even given the situation I can't help but notice that he is remarkably handsome. But that fact doesn't make me any less wary of him. I swing the vase in front of me, yelling. "Who are you? Why am I here?"

The man takes a step back and holds his hands up as if in surrender. "You don't need that ya know, I'm not going to hurt you. No one here is going to hurt you, Joon didn't mean to do this to you, he just got a little carried away earlier and just...trust me no one is going to touch you. Now put that down before you end up hurting yourself."

He dives to the ground as I hurl the vase at his head and use the distraction to try to run for the open door.

Everything seems to go in slow motion. I see the man on the ground and his expression change from one of a surprise to anger, I hear the shattering of the vase on the opposite wall above the bed, and just as I reach the door frame I feel the man's arms wrap around my stomach.

I am stopped mid-run by the man wrapping his arms around my stomach and using the momentum to haul me off my feet onto the ground. I start to struggle bringing a leg up to kick him in the crotch but he is so much bigger than me and stronger. Before I even realize it he is on top of me and has me completely subdued.

His long legs are straddled on either side of mine so that he is sitting on my thighs and he is bent over me with one hand over my mouth to muffle my screams and the other is holding my wrists down above my head. When I realize how strong he is and that basically my entire body is exposed to him I begin to thrash and scream once more but nothing works.

I tire myself out quickly and calm down looking up into his face and can see the anger that he is barely containing. "Would you calm down?! There is glass everywhere thanks to you and if you cut yourself and get hurt even more I'll never hear the end of it. Although, you would deserve it if you did cut yourself. I can't believe you threw that fucking thing at my face! You could've killed me."

I wish he would move his hand so I could tell him that it was too bad I had missed and the vase hadn't smashed right into that beautiful face of his. He must be able to read some of my thoughts by the expression on my face because his eyes narrow and he leans down so that his face is inches from mine.

"You have no idea how lucky you are. If you were anyone else, I would have smashed your face in and then made you beg for mercy."

He lets out a laugh and pulls back as I slam my head forward trying to headbutt him. He lifts an eyebrow and smirks, "Fiesty aren't you? I like that in a woman." he says before smashing his lips onto mine.

He takes my gasp of surprise as an opportunity to slide his tongue into my mouth and along mine. My body has reacted of its own accord before my brain has a chance to catch up and before I realize what has happened my lips are moving to his and I'm kissing him back. We stay a couple of minutes like this tongues gliding back and forth, lips moving together so firmly that mine have cracked and begun to bleed again. And it's the metallic taste of my own blood that finally breaks the haze that his plump soft lips have brought me into.

Without warning, I bite down on his tongue hard enough to draw his blood. He yells and pulls back jumping off of me. We glare at each other for a few tense seconds, me still on the ground and him standing above me blood visible on his lips though I am not sure if it's his or mine at this point.

He seems to snap out of it as he shakes his head as if to clear it and then looks around at the broken glass on the bed and nightstand.

"Get this mess cleaned up," he says just as he turns and slams the door closed behind him. I hope for a second that he won't lock it behind him but that hope quickly dies as I hear the click of the lock once more.