Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 147545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 738(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 738(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
CHAPTER 39
CASSIE
When I leave the lake house, I don’t know where to go.
I can’t go back to the apartment.
He gave me a sanctuary that came with strings, that tied me to him just like his college contract.
Without him, I have nowhere to go.
My mind is so trauma fogged that my body must go on autopilot because somehow, I end up on my mom’s road.
Humiliation aside, I can’t stay here. It’s the first place Tor would look for me.
I know she would let me come back, but she’d never let me live it down, either. My savior fell through, and I had to come crawling back to her.
I’d rather die from heat exhaustion sleeping in my car.
It might be what I deserve.
My heart is so heavy, I can’t even think of Tim right now. I don’t have any tears left.
I can only think of one place I could maybe go, so I reach into the passenger seat to get my phone out of my purse, but as soon as the screen lights up, my heart stops.
Technically, Tor owns this cell phone.
Not only can he listen in, but he can also track me with it.
I power the phone off and put it back in my purse. I know where Shaley lives from dropping her off after we went shopping, so I’ll just have to show up and hope she’s home.
She probably won’t be.
It’s the fucking Fourth of July. Everyone else is watching fireworks right now.
I’m not sure how long I can wait. I need to be locked behind a barrier of some kind, and the car that belongs to him isn’t going to suffice.
I park the car in her driveway, then walk up to her front door, purse in hand. After I ring the doorbell, I peek inside my purse to make sure my phone is still off. I know I turned it off, but who knows if he has some remote way to turn the fucking thing back on. I should have run it over.
A dog barks on the other side of the door, and a moment later, it opens. Shaley scoops up a mouthy little furball, then pushes the screen door open, surprise splashed across her face.
“Hey,” she says. “What’s up? I thought you were at Tor’s party.” Her expression changes as she gets a better look at my puffy eyes under the porch light and realizes I’m not experiencing blush blindness. I’ve been crying. “Oh no, what happened?”
“I hate to ask, but do you think I could stay here tonight?”
Her eyes widen in surprise, but without hesitation, she steps back to make room for me. “Of course. Come inside.”
“Thank you,” I say softly.
“What did he do?” she asks.
I shake my head. I can’t even put it into words. “I can’t talk about it right now.”
“Okay,” she says, laying a supportive hand on my shoulder, then leaning in to give me a half hug. The dog in her arms doesn’t want to hug me and barks its objection. “Sorry,” she says, bending to put the dog down. “He’s afraid of fireworks, so he’s having a rough night.”
Apparently, we all are.
I watch Shaley close the door, but she only turns the lock on the doorknob. “Can you deadbolt it?” I ask her.
Her eyes widen. She misses a beat, but then she nods and turns the deadbolt. More warily, she meets my gaze again. “Is everything okay?”
I shake my head. “Full disclosure, Tor might come after me. If he does, don’t let him in.” As soon as the words are out, dread moves through me, and I add, “Well, if he seems… If it feels safe to keep him out. I don’t want to put you in any danger, obviously. If he’s… if he doesn’t take no for an answer, don’t put yourself at risk. Just let him have me.”
Shaley blinks, obviously stunned by these directions.
“You can tell me to leave,” I say, realizing I probably shouldn’t have come here. “I will completely understand. I can find somewhere else to go.”
“Uh…” She ponders it for just a second, then shakes her head. “No. No, of course I’m not going to ask you to leave because you might be in danger, I’m just confused. Tor is the danger we’re referring to?”
“There’s a lot you don’t know.”
“I see that.”
Every bit of weight I’ve shed recently has landed back on my shoulders in the past half hour, and as I stand here looking at Shaley, I know I owe her explanations, but I’m just so drained and heartbroken, it takes all the energy I have left to stand in her living room.
“Do you think we could talk tomorrow? I want to go to sleep.”
And I never want to wake up.
I can’t do this again.
I can’t bear the weight of all this loss.
Of what I’ve done.
Tears start to well up in my eyes, and Shaley makes a sad face, grabbing me and pulling me in for a hug. “I’m sorry, Cassie. I know how happy he made you.”