26. Cassie
CASSIE
When my eyes drift open the following morning, I expect to see Tor lying in his spot on my bed, but it’s empty.
At first, I think maybe he just went to make breakfast like he did at the lake house, but when I get up to pee, I don’t see him anywhere in the whole apartment.
Since I don’t have a nightstand yet and I didn’t need to be up early today, I left my phone plugged in to charge on the kitchen counter.
Randomly, I realize I can’t believe I have my own kitchen counter.
The pleasure of that softens the blow a little when I see a message notification from Tor on the screen.
I swipe it open, and it reads, “Hey, baby. I didn’t want to wake you up, but I had to go.
Got some more family stuff to deal with today.
When you find a set of nightstands you like, let me know, and I’ll swing by and pay for them. ”
I’m sad that he’s not here. I fell asleep so fast last night that we didn’t get to have any pillow talk. But I was already exhausted after such a long, emotional day, and then that double orgasm really took it out of me.
I have to close tonight, but I should have time to pick out some furniture before work.
Since it’s my first official morning in my new apartment, I look around and try to decide what my mornings should look like now. I guess they can look however I want them to look.
I decide to have some yogurt and a bottled water to start my day off right.
I bought a reusable water bottle when we were out shopping, but it’s in the dishwasher with the rest of the stuff I loaded into it after dinner last night.
Maybe when I get home later, I’ll unload it and set my kitchen up a little more.
My gaze drifts to the flowers on my table, and I can’t help smiling. I think about texting Tor, but I’m not sure if he’s already with his family doing whatever family stuff he has on the docket today.
The funeral is tomorrow, but they probably have preparations to do beforehand. I feel a little guilty about not being there for Tor, but given the circumstances, I couldn’t possibly go to that funeral. It’s not even a pride thing at this point. It would just feel completely shameless.
I’m not sorry, but I’m not shameless, either.
Someday, I’ll have to meet Tor’s parents outside the courtroom.
But it won’t be at their son’s funeral.
Not when I’m the reason it’s happening.
That’s entirely too twisted.
___
I pick out a pair of end tables, and Tor shows up with his credit card to pay the bill. He tells them he wants the furniture delivered tonight, which I didn’t think was an option—the guy certainly told me I would have to wait two weeks—but somehow, it’s not a problem when Tor asks.
Since I have to close tonight, Tor says he’ll head to my place to wait for the delivery.
When I get to work, though, it occurs to me for the first time that my phone is apparently also a listening device, and he didn’t say he wouldn’t listen in on me again. I know he was wary of Josh, and he’s working until eight again tonight, so I decide to leave my phone in my purse while I work.
Fortunately, I’m closing the front counter tonight, so I get to leave a little earlier. I feel bad that Tor is waiting for me at home alone, and I feel worse when I check my phone and see I’ve missed several texts from him throughout my shift.
“Sorry,” I text back on my way to my car. “My phone was in my purse. I’m heading home now!”
It feels good to say that.
Despite the lunacy of it being way too quick, that realization causes my thoughts to drift to Tor’s invitation to join him in Boston at the end of summer.
I have always wanted to live somewhere else—before, it was just to experience more than I have in Holbrook, but for the past year, it has been because “home” is a dreadful place to be. I’m not sure Boston is where I would have ended up, but I’m not opposed to it.
The main thing that bothers me isn’t even living with Tor when we’ve only just started dating.
It’s knowing how behind I would be. It has made me feel like a complete failure to watch the people I graduated with start the next chapter of their lives, knowing that should have been me, but I completely blew it.
Even if I try my best to catch up now, the best I can do is start everything a year late.
And if I were doing it on my own, maybe that wouldn’t be as noticeable, but doing it alongside Tor would highlight my failure over and over again for the next four years.
When he’s graduating, I’ll still have a year left.
Not only could that potentially complicate our future plans if we are still together, but it’s just… not fair.
I can’t get my lost year back, no matter what I do now, no matter how hard I try to catch up. It’s just too late.
Thinking about Boston may not have been the best thing because by the time I get to my apartment, it’s brought me all the way back down.
Tor notices as soon as I step inside the door. He asked me while I was working if I’d be hungry when I got home, but, of course, I didn’t answer him since I was avoiding my phone. Now I smell something incredible cooking, and my heart sinks because I already ate between customers.
“Hey,” Tor says as I enter the living room.
“Hey. I didn’t know you were cooking.”
He shrugs. “You didn’t answer, so I figured I’d play it safe. If you’re not hungry, you’ll have leftovers.”
I’m not very hungry, but I will eat some of it. I’ll feel too guilty if I don’t.
“You okay?” Tor asks, noticing something is off.
I nod, attempting a smile. “How are you? How was your family stuff?”
“About as expected.” His mouth tugs up slightly, but it obviously wasn’t a fun day, and now I feel bad about that, too.
“Hey, since I have my own place now, do you think I could get my journal back?”
Tor glances up, watching me for a moment. “Why?”
His question surprises me, so it takes a second to find an answer. “Uh… I don’t know. It feels weird that someone I don’t even know still has it, and now that things are different, I’d like to have an outlet for those times I need to work on my mental health.”
“Why don’t we get you a new journal?” he suggests.
My eyebrows rise. “I can’t have the other one back?”
“You can, but I’d prefer you didn’t read it anymore. After this weekend, I’d love it if you never thought about my brother again.”
His words make my heart sink, mostly because it never occurred to me that he might feel the way Russell did about all this. I view Tor as such a step up from Russell in that department, considering it now is disappointing.
“Does it bother you that your brother… I mean, of course it bothers you that he—” I stop, trying to think how to even word this.
I despise using similar wording to what Russell’s disgusting friends used that night I overheard them talking, but it’s the only thing I can think of.
“Is this a possessive thing? Does it bother you that he was… inside me first even though it wasn’t my choice? ”
“No,” he says firmly enough that I believe him, but then he meets my gaze and says something far worse. “But I know you were attracted to him, and now that he’s gone… I’d like for Tim to stay completely out of your mind.”
I can’t breathe for a moment. I feel like he just gut-punched me.
That was the narrative the lawyer spun to defend Tim. That I liked him, and I was angry when Tim “rejected me” after that night, so I’d made up this awful story about what happened…
“I can’t believe you just said that.”
He studies me for a moment, as if assessing damage he hadn’t intended.
“I didn’t mean… I wasn’t saying you wanted it or justifying anything that happened to you, Cassie.
I wasn’t judging you. I’m just not interested in sharing you, even with a memory, so I’d rather we put him behind us than nurture anything that may not have been resolved. ”
“I wasn’t—I’m not attracted to your brother. I shot him,” I say, wide-eyed.
“I know. I was there,” Tor says, almost lightly.
I am not amused.
I am flabbergasted.
Tor leaves the food simmering and comes around the island.
I almost take a step back because I’m so thrown, but he grabs my waist and pulls me closer.
His hand slides along my jawline, and he looks down at me.
“It doesn’t change anything that happened to you, Cassie.
Someone you’re attracted to is perfectly capable of raping you. I wasn’t saying you wanted it.”
I swallow, my heart in my throat as I look up at him. “I didn’t.”
“I know.” He nods, offering double reassurance.
“And it wasn’t… he attacked me. Nobody would want what he did to me.”
“I know,” Tor says, pulling me into his chest and kissing the top of my head. “I’m not doubting you. I would never do that.”
My gaze drops to his chest. “But you’re parroting what your stupid lawyer said to get him off…”
“No.” He catches my chin, tilting it up so I’m forced to meet his gaze again. “I’m commenting on something I saw myself. Something you don’t have to be ashamed of. It’s not surprising you were attracted to Tim—most girls got sucked in to his bullshit.”
“I didn’t get sucked in,” I mutter.
“Maybe not, but you got a little too close to the whirlpool for my comfort,” he says lightly, caressing my jaw. “Don’t lie to me, Cassie. You never have to lie to me. There’s absolutely nothing you can’t tell me. Surely you know by now I would never judge you.”
That’s true.
I mean, he knows I’m a murderer, and he’s completely fine with it.
I guess if there’s one person in the world I can trust not to use that knowledge against me, it would be him.
“It always feels like people are trying to invalidate my experience with that argument. Like, it couldn’t have been rape if I found him attractive, but finding someone attractive isn’t the same as wanting to sleep with them, or being willing to, and I was still with Russell, so I would never—”
He cuts me off with a finger against my lips, then replaces it with his mouth.
He kisses me tenderly, the way that melts my knees, and I find my body drifting closer to his.
“I know,” he says softly. His tongue sweeps into my mouth, and I sigh, weakening against him, my fingers curling into his shirt.
He lifts me, carries me over to the couch, then puts me down gently.
He climbs on top of me, and I tug up his shirt, wanting it off.
He stops kissing me long enough to pull it off, then he’s on me again, unbuttoning my pants.
I lift my ass so he can yank them down, and he grabs my panties while he’s at it.
Once my legs are free, he parts them, and I gasp as that perfect mouth of his latches onto my pussy. The sensation is so shockingly delicious, I reach overhead and grab the arm of the couch.
“Oh god,” I moan.
As good as he is at kissing, he’s even better at this.
I’m lightheaded with pleasure as his tongue laps at my clit, teasing and circling it. His fingers have a bruising grip on my thighs as he holds tight, keeping me spread open for him to feast on. His hands and his mouth completely pin my hips, but still they try to move.
My stomach muscles clench as he devours me, quickly driving me higher and higher.
He almost lets me come.
Almost.
Then he stops, and an agonized moan escapes my throat.
I’m not disappointed for long, though. He takes a condom out of his wallet, and a moment later, he’s sinking inside me.
“Fuck yes,” I say softly, locking my legs around him and pulling him deeper.
It’s a quick, frantic fuck, and I’m a little tender from being pounded so hard last night, but I still come hard, my pussy milking him as he shoves deep and lets go inside me. He groans as he comes, then collapses on top of me, my legs spread on either side of his beautiful body.
I love feeling the weight of him against me.
I caress the back of his head absently, feeling more at peace than I have all evening.
The smell coming from the kitchen changes, though. It’s starting to smell bad.
He must notice the same thing, because when he lifts his head, he says wryly, “I hope you weren’t hungry.”
I crack a smile. “Oh no, your dinner.”
He shrugs, settling back against my chest. “No regrets. This was a better dinner.”
My smile softens, and I don’t know if it’s the orgasm talking—because honestly, my body whispers this shit at me every time he makes me come—but I think I love him. I also think that’s crazy, so I keep it to myself.
Eventually, he does have to climb off me.
He snatches his T-shirt off the floor, then goes to the kitchen to turn off the stove so my new apartment doesn’t burn down.
He turns on the fan, but it doesn’t do much to help the smell right away, so he cracks the window near the dining table to help with ventilation.
Tor comes back to the living room, where I am still lying boneless on the couch.
“We should go shower and give the place a little time to air out.”
I look up at him, so handsome in his jeans and black T-shirt. “I can’t move.” Theatrically, I reach out a hand to him. “Help me.”
Tor smirks, taking my hand, but he doesn’t playfully use it to pull me to my feet like I expect him to. Instead, he drops it after only a second and bends down, sliding his arms beneath me and lifting me bridal style.
“Oh,” I murmur in surprise, sliding my arms around his neck. “You’re so strong.”
I feel myself blushing a little as he carries me to the bathroom. I was only joking, of course, but damn.
I’ve never had a bathroom large enough to be carried into, but he easily gets me inside and kicks the door shut before letting me down. One hand slides from his shoulder to his chest, but the other stays wrapped around his neck. I lean up on my tiptoes to steal a kiss before I move away from him.
Tor’s not a fan of distance, so he comes up behind me, locking his arms around my waist immediately. He pushes me forward, pinning me against the counter and meeting my gaze in the mirror as he holds me snugly against him.
Those crazy words want to spill out now that I’ve acknowledged the feelings to myself, but I don’t want to be the first to say them.
Maybe he already knows.
I don’t know how we could have gotten through the nonstop insanity we have been through together without forming some kind of soul-deep bond.
Maybe it’s a trauma bond. Maybe it only feels like love.
Maybe I’m just lucky the person I ended up so extraordinarily bonded to also turned out to be wonderful because it could have gone a different way.
Despite everything, I do feel lucky to have him.
Each new day with Tor may be some kind of roller coaster, but maybe that’s only because I’m getting used to him. Surely it won’t always be that way.