Chapter Eleven
Rick waited across the street from the hotel with his hood up and his hands in his pockets, watching the entrance as people came and went. Cars rolled up to the curb, passengers climbed out, and the doorman nodded them through.
Cass showed up just after seven, stepping out of a rideshare with a small suitcase and a tote slung over her shoulder. She walked straight to the doors, head down against the cold, and disappeared inside.
Rick gave it a few seconds, then crossed the street and followed.
The lobby was bright and warm, with a low hum of voices and the soft clink of glasses from the bar. Rick kept his head slightly lowered and moved like he belonged there, as if he was just another guest coming in for the night. Cass was at the front desk with her back to him.
Rick slowed as he got closer, stopping near a pillar by the wall, absently picking up a hotel business card and put it in his pocket. He kept his body angled away and listened.
“I’m in 1218,” Cass said. “Could I get a wake-up call at six-thirty?”
“Of course,” the receptionist replied.
Cass thanked her, took a key card, and walked toward the elevators. Rick moved a few steps behind her, close enough to see her swipe in and hit the button, then he turned away before the doors opened. He headed for the stairwell sign, pushed through the door, and started up.
By the time he reached the twelfth floor, he’d pulled his gloves on and kept his hood low, so his face stayed in shadow. He stepped out into the corridor and listened before he moved. Down the hall, a door clicked shut.
Rick walked toward it without looking around, like a man going to his own room. When Rick reached room 1218, he paused outside and listened.
The room was quiet. Rick heard no voices or the TV. Just the faint rush of air from the vent above the door. He put his hand on the knob for a second, then let it go and knocked instead.
At first, there was nothing. Then Rick heard footsteps approaching the door. A couple of seconds later it opened a few inches and Cass’s face appeared, her brows lifting as she focused on him.
For a second, she could only stare. “Rick?” she said, confused, as if she wasn’t sure she was actually seeing him.
Rick kept his head slightly down, his hood shadowing his face, but not so much that Cass couldn’t see him. “Yeah.”
Cass’s mouth opened, then shut. She looked him over once, taking in the hood, the gloves, the fact he was standing in a hotel corridor as if he’d walked in off the street. “What—” She shook her head. “What are you doing here?”
Rick kept his voice even. “Can I come in?”
Cass didn’t move. Her hand stayed on the door, holding it half-open, her body blocking the gap. “We haven’t…” She stopped, then tried again. “We haven’t spoken in years.”
“I know,” Rick said.
Cass watched him, her eyes narrowing slightly. Not suspicious exactly, more cautious. “Did something happen?”
Rick held her gaze. “No. I just saw you and I wanted to see how you are.”
Cass made a small sound under her breath, half a laugh, half disbelief. “You saw me.”
Rick nodded slowly. “Yeah.”
She hesitated, then opened the door another inch or so. “You can’t just show up at my hotel, Rick.”
“I’m not here to cause a scene, Cass.”
“That’s not an answer.”
Rick stayed still and waited because some people needed to fill the silence, and Rick knew Cass was one of them.
Cass’s eyes flicked down the hall once, then back to him. Her expression softened a fraction. “Are you okay?”
Rick smiled slightly. “I’m fine.”
Cass studied him for another second, then sighed. She opened the door wider. “Come in. But… just—don’t be weird.”
Rick stepped into the room, smiling as he walked past. It was a standard hotel setup. The bed had been made, and the curtains were half-open, showing the city lights. Cass’ suitcase stood on the luggage stand, half open.
Cass closed the door behind him but didn’t lock it straight away. She stood with her hand still on the handle, watching him as if she was waiting for him to explain himself.
Rick took his hood down, but he didn’t take his gloves off.
Cass noticed. Her gaze dropped to his hands, then lifted again. “Why are you wearing those?”
“It’s cold.” Rick smiled and shrugged.
Cass’s brows lifted, but she let it go. She walked toward the window, then turned back, arms folding across her chest. “So. You saw me where?”
“Online,” Rick told her.
Cass gave a short laugh. “Of course.”
Rick’s eyes tracked her as she moved. She looked good. “How have you been?” Rick asked.
Cass blinked, thrown by the normal question. “Uh. Good.”
Rick nodded. “That’s nice.”
Cass shifted her weight. “I’m on tour,” she said, as if she had to fill the silence. “Or about to be. Rehearsals. Meetings. You know the usual stuff.”
Rick kept his face steady. “With him.”
Cass’s mouth twitched. “Jalen.”
“Yes.”
Cass’s eyes sharpened. “Is that why you’re here? Because you saw my name next to his and decided to check up on me?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.” She sighed and rubbed her forehead. “Jesus, Rick.”
Rick watched her hand drop. He watched the way she tried to stay calm. She always had that habit—keeping things smooth, keeping things professional, even when the person in front of her didn’t deserve it.
Cass glanced at him again, and her expression shifted. “How are you?”
“I’m working,” Rick said.
Cass nodded slowly. “Writing? Producing?”
Rick didn’t answer fast enough, and Cass saw it. Her face softened again, and there it was. A flicker of pity that made Rick’s stomach turn.
“I’m fine,” Rick said, sharper than before.
Cass’s brows pulled together. “I didn’t say you weren’t.”
Rick’s jaw clenched. He felt his body tense as anger built inside. “Cass—”
Cass took a small step closer, cautious now. “Rick, why are you here?”
He stared at her. She was acting as if he was the problem that needed handling. As if he was some mess she’d left behind. As if she could stand in front of him and do better, and he was supposed to be fine with it. He was anything but fine with it.
Rick heard his own voice, calm and flat. “You’ve moved on.”
Cass blinked. “What?”
“You left,” Rick said.
Cass stared at him, then let out a breath that sounded tired. “I didn’t leave you. I left the job. You know how it is.”
Rick took a step closer. “You didn’t even call.”
Cass’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t answer.”
Rick felt his anger burning inside. He kept his hands at his sides, but his fingers flexed inside the gloves. “You didn’t call.”
Cass held his gaze, and this time there was no pity, only irritation. “This is why I didn’t call.”
Rick’s vision narrowed to Cass and the rage inside. “Cass—”
Cass shook her head, sighing. “Rick, you need to go.”
Rick didn’t move. “No.”
Cass’s voice tightened. “Now.”
He stared at her and felt his anger rising. He looked at her and let her see it. He saw the flicker of fear cross her face, then disappear.
Cass took another step back, putting space between them without turning her back to him. “Rick,” she said, low and controlled. “Leave.”
When he didn’t, her eyes flicked to the door. The smallest shift of weight, like she was deciding whether to go for it. Rick moved before she did.
Cass made a short sound, more surprise than anything, and then she fought. Harder than he had expected. Her hands came up, nails scraping at his coat, trying to reach his face. Rick grabbed her hands, causing Cass to hit the bedside table with her hip.
Rick shoved her toward the bed. She stumbled, caught herself, then went down awkwardly, hands sliding across the duvet. Cass turned her head to one side, trying to get her mouth clear so she could breathe.
“Rick—”
Pushing her onto her back, Rick leaned his weight on her, wrapped his fingers around Cass’ throat and squeezed. He leaned in close, close enough to hear her breathing change. Close enough to feel the panic build when she realized what was happening.
Cass thrashed hard, trying to shake Rick off.
Rick tightened his hold and forced her back down.
Her hands clawed at him again, weaker this time.
One hit his shoulder. Another scrabbled at his sleeve, searching for anything that would change the outcome.
Her strength faded the longer Rick strangled her.
When she stopped moving, Rick didn’t move at all.
He simply breathed and waited. Cass lay still beneath him, her face turned into the pillow, hair spread messily across the sheet.
One arm was bent at an odd angle, fingers curled halfway as if she’d been about to grab hold of something and didn’t get the chance.
Rick slowly eased back. He watched her, waiting for a sign she was still alive and faking it, only there was no movement from her at all.
He sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, eyes fixed on her.
The anger that had been burning inside him only a minute ago was gone now, leaving behind a cold quiet in its place.
Lifting his head, Rick looked around the room. The lamp was slightly crooked. The duvet was rumpled. A water bottle lay on its side on the nightstand, still capped. Nothing else looked disturbed.
Rick stood, adjusted the lamp with two gloved fingers, and smoothed the duvet once, more out of habit than care. He didn’t touch anything he didn’t have to. Rick glanced around the room one final time before walking away from the bed.
At the door, he paused with his hand on the handle and listened. There was nothing but the building’s hum. No footsteps in the hall and no voices outside. He pulled his hood back up, checked his gloves, then stepped out and closed the door behind him with a soft click.
Walking down the corridor, Rick kept his pace steady. In the stairwell, the cool air felt good against his face, and he went down without looking back. Outside, the city carried on. Rick moved into the flow of it and let his mouth curve into the smallest smile.