Guarded By Love

/Jane's pov/

Sweet sixteen is a day that every young lady should cherish as a memorable occasion in her life. Moreover, in some cultures, it is regarded as the beginning of the woman's initiation into womanhood. My sixteenth birthday was anything but sweet; it felt more like the beginning of the descent into hell on Earth.

My dreams came crashing down on March 12, and my life was thrown into a downward spiral of pain, grief, and terror as a result. My sixteenth birthday left an indelible mark on me and marked the beginning of a series of events that I would see over and over in my nightmares for the rest of my life.

Right now, I was standing outside club Ozone in the freezing cold of the night, waiting to be let in – completely unaware that I was about to embark on a traumatic ordeal. As a result of the ridiculously high heels that I was wearing, I was already experiencing pain in the balls of my feet.

As the cool breeze whipped around me, my little black dress began to billow around my thighs, which I found quite amusing. Sam Roberts, my perfect boyfriend, was rubbing my arms, trying to get me to warm up a little bit. We'd been waiting in line for the club for nearly an hour and were finally quite close to the front of the queue.

"Sam, I'm not sure this is going to work out for you. "Perhaps we should just go see a movie or something?" I said it in hushed tones, my gaze fixed on the doorman, who was looking at the line suspiciously.

"Jane, I'm confident that it will work. As a result of your request, I'm taking you to a nightclub for your birthday," he said, cupping his chilly hands around my face in response.

When I looked at him, my heart stutteringly pounded. Every fiber of my being swooned over this young man. He was kind, loving, caring, generous, thoughtful, and, let's not forget, he was also very attractive. Each and every girl's fantasy came true when he appeared with his short blond hair and sparkling blue eyes.

Literally. Every girl I knew was head over heels in love with my boyfriend, but he'd only ever had eyes for me the entire time. The two of us had first met when we were five years old. During the first encounter I had with him, he formally asked me to be his girlfriend, and we had been together ever since.

He was everything to me, and I knew we would be together for the rest of our lives. We already had everything planned out – finishing high school, going to college, and then Sam would pursue his dream of becoming a doctor, while I would pursue my dream of becoming an artist. We were going to get married and start a family eventually. Perfect.

Sam asked me what I wanted to do for my birthday three months ago, and I told him that I could do anything I wanted anywhere in the world, and he said that we would do it. So I made the decision to go out to a club, and then I wanted to stay at a hotel where we could have our first experience with a sexual encounter.

After three months of planning and scheming, we were finally able to persuade our parents to allow us to stay out with them. Sam had procured for us both a fictitious identification card, and I was giddy with excitement that I could hardly keep it together.

Once we got here, in the freezing cold, surrounded by half-drunk people, all I wanted to do was return to the hotel and have him run his hands over my body to warm me up, and then we'd finally be together in a physical sense again.

My stomach clenched in anticipation as I raised my smile to meet his. He reciprocated with a smile and kissed me on the lips. I melted in his presence. When Sam kissed me, I felt incredible, as if my heart was racing and as if I was the luckiest girl on the face of the planet. A small smile tugged at the corners of my mouth as his hands made their way down to my ass and gently squeezed it.

When he pulled back from the kiss, he grinned at me as he did so. In the dim light of the street lights, his eyes glowed. "I'm madly in love with you, Jane."

My heart pounded once more, and goosebumps appeared all over my body as a result. I adored the sound of those three words coming out of his mouth; even after all these years, I was still not accustomed to hearing them.

And I meant it when I said, "I love you, too." I adored him more than anything else in the world. Once again, he kissed me and pulled my body closer to his chest.

A light tap on my shoulder caused me to jump and break up with my partner.

Behind me, I heard a male voice say, "Hello."

When I turned around, there was a young man, probably in his twenties, standing there. He wasn't in the line of people waiting to get into the club; instead, he was on the other side of the ropes, watching the proceedings. He had a good-looking face, with nicely styled dark brown hair and brown eyes, and he was quite attractive.

His broad shoulders were concealed by a sleek, black, button-down shirt, which he'd paired with black pants and shoes that appeared to be extremely expensive. He was taking his time to examine me.

It was "er, hi," I said, a sweet smile on my face as I tried to be friendly in case he worked here. He wasn't alone; two other men stood behind him, supporting him.