Chapter 19
CORDELIE
"Cordelie!" A furious male voice yells as I dash up the stairs to the science building. Terror races up my spine as I recognize it as Noah's. Fuck, I knew I should have stayed home again today. He's been hounding me like a persistent tick since I ran out on him.
Adrenaline surges through my system despite how exhausted I am.
I haven't slept more than a few hours since fleeing his apartment like a frightened rabbit.
There's a semi-irrational fear that Noah is going to hurt me now, even though he never did anything physical to me before that night.
It was something about the way he stared down at me before he went to the bathroom.
I believe in a woman's intuition, and mine was screaming at me that night to get the hell out of there.
Even thinking about it now sends a cold dread through my body.
When I finally made it home, and Faye rushed down to pay the cab, I was mortified, and kept looking over my shoulder, as if I genuinely believed he would materialize out of thin air.
Faye tried to talk to me about what happened at the club, but I refused to tell her anything about the guy in the bathroom.
I don't know if my silence was to keep Noah and his unhinged, violent actions safe, or if I was more embarrassed that I allowed all of that to happen, by being careless and not aware of what was happening around me.
How many times have I had it drilled into my head not to accept drinks from men, or to stay together with my buddy group?
How many stories have I heard about girls just like me, getting raped in clubs or taken elsewhere to be assaulted, and then later blamed because their dresses were too short, or they were flirting and leading him on?
I almost became a damn statistic. This world is not kind to women; you can't just be carefree. You have to constantly worry about the monster you know, and the devil you don't, trying to take something from you that you're not willing to give. That’s the appeal though, isn’t it? Something forced brings these monsters more pleasure than something freely given. The world is a dark place that makes demons look like heroes, and victims like they deserved the crimes committed against them. It’s survival of the fittest.
Case in point, Noah. If I hadn't woken up from my drug-induced nap, how far would he have taken it?
Yet even then, knowing what he was willing to do to me without my conscious consent, I allowed him to abuse me.
No, worse, I begged him to. The rage at myself, the feeling of overwhelming helplessness that's been hitting me over and over since that night, tries once again to drown me. I keep moving, even though I can hear him yelling my name again, and the sound of his rapid footsteps approaching. My body tenses for impact as I force a deep breath inside my chest, and tighten my grasp around my bag. Is this the moment that he breaks me into more pieces than I’ll ever be able to put back together?
My fragmented heart is already being held together precariously by flimsy tape. One more blow might be the end of it.
I'm relieved that Faye talked me into carrying pepper spray.
God, here's hoping that I don't have to use it on Noah.
I'm not sure if I have the courage to see it through.
"Cordelie, fuck, wait!" His hand reaches out and yanks my bicep from behind, causing me to slam into his body.
I instantly jerk forward out of his grasp and create space between us.
"Why are you running from me, sweet baby girl? "
"I have nothing to say to you, Noah. Leave me alone, please.
" I try to take another step away from him, but he shadows my motions and pushes his way in front of me.
The action causes my teeth to clench so hard that I fear for my molars.
I refuse to meet his glance, looking at his ear instead.
I know it's immature of me, but I don't want him to be able to guilt me into listening to him, or worse, charm me.
You're weak, you'll fall for his venom again and again. You're too stupid to save yourself.
"You have nothing to say to me, Cordelie, really?
How about you start with why you ran out of my apartment like your fucking ass was on fire?
" His words are crude, and I can hear the anger in every syllable, and it makes me take another two steps away from him.
The heat of his glance trails over my body, making it feel like fire ants are crawling on me, and I have the urge to swipe at my arms.
"You scared of me now, Cordelie?" Step. "You running from me because I gave you exactly what you wanted, but now you're filled with regrets?" Step. "You regret letting me use you like the slut you wanted to be, sweet baby girl?"
"Stop," the word sounds soft and minuscule leaving my lips.
"Stop? Stop what, Cordelie? Stop loving you?
Stop begging you to take me back? Stop knowing that you're mine and you belong to me?
What exactly should I stop?" Noah demands, and I can see his hands fisted at his sides, as if he's restraining himself from reaching out and touching me.
If he touches me, I don't know what I'll do.
There's a strong possibility that I'll crumple into a sobbing heap. Pathetic. Damaged. Worthless.
I raise my glance and meet his, and my breath becomes trapped in my throat.
He looks like shit, with deep purple shadows under his eyes, his face covered in more than a day's worth of dark whiskers, and his lips look like he's been chewing them; they're red, cracked, and sore.
My eyes slide down his tall frame and take in the rumpled clothing, and how disorderly he appears.
Is that all just because I ran from him?
Shame and guilt war within me, and I have to steel my backbone from giving in to the need to apologise to him.
I wasn't in the wrong, and I don't owe him anything.
I'm allowed to decide that I don't want him in my life.
I try to rationalize my thoughts to give myself the needed strength to deal with him now, but it's a waning battle.
"All of it, Noah. I don't belong to you, and I don't wish to be with you. I want you to leave me alone. What we had is over and should remain in the past. I don’t want you to be a part of my future."
He leans forward, his body angling toward me, and I stiffen, partially closing my eyes as if that somehow could protect me from his touch.
"Do you remember when I told you that you belonged to me, Cordelie?
Did you think that was a joke to me, sweet baby girl?
You can run from me, but you'll never run far or fast enough. I'll always find and catch you."
His hand reaches out and pushes a tendril of my hair behind my ear, and I can't swallow a whimper fast enough to prevent him from hearing it.
He hums with pleasure at the sound and my stomach drops.
"I'm deep inside of you, invading every single cell.
You will always belong to me. I'm your fucking owner.
Do you hear me, Cordelie? I own every part of you, but especially your heart.
It beats only for me." I can hear the satisfaction and threat in his voice, and it causes my panic to escalate to an unbearable point.
My hand reaches into my tote bag while I hold his gaze steadily, even though everything within me is shaking like a leaf.
He sounds like a deranged stalker right now, and I'm petrified.
My fingers reach for the small, metal canister, and I wrap them tightly around it, twisting it carefully and flipping the lip, without moving in a way that will attract his attention to what I'm doing.
"You're insane, and you're scaring me, Noah.
I need you to back away and leave me alone.
I don't belong to you, and you don't fucking own me! "
My voice is getting shrill and louder as adrenaline courses through me, activating my fight-or-flight response.
Everything in me wants to turn tail and run away, but I force myself to stand tall and face him.
I can't keep running, or I'll be doing it all my life.
This has to stop. He needs to understand that I don't want to be with him anymore.
What we had is over and it was never real.
His hand reaches for my neck, and I don't hesitate, pulling the canister from my bag, clutching it tightly, pointing at his face, and using my thumb to push down on the dispenser. "WHAT THE FUCK, CORDELIE!" He screams as he rears back, and his hands frantically rise to his face.
"Stay the fuck away from me, Noah, or I'm going to the police and telling them everything that happened at the club, and afterwards!
" My trembling legs carry me away from him, still clutching the canister, as my heart threatens to burst out of my chest. I keep moving until I burst out of one of the emergency fire exits.
The alarm sounds as I drop the canister and run back toward the parking lot.
I should have never left my apartment. I'm not safe from him.
I'll never be safe. He's never going to stop coming after me, or let me go.