Chapter 17
I woke up with my heart pounding, breath coming in quick, shallow bursts. The dream was already fading, but the ghost of it clung, Andrew’s voice low in my ear, his hand on my throat, the familiar weight of him pinning me in place.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand. I glanced at the screen, another text from him.
The third one this morning.
I didn’t read it. I didn’t have to. I knew it would be another mix of apologies, declarations, and the kind of pleading that used to pull me in. Now it just made my skin crawl.
It had been a few days since I’d been home. Since I’d seen him outside my apartment looking wrecked and desperate. I’d been careful since then, public spaces only, quick walks from work to home, checking over my shoulder without making it obvious.
At the shop, Abby had barely flipped the sign to Open before I told her. “I need to give notice.”
Her head shot up from the counter. “Cass… are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” It was automatic, even though my stomach was knotted. “I just… I think I need to move back home. With my family.”
She searched my face like she could see all the things I wasn’t saying. “Do you need to talk about it?”
I shook my head. “Not right now.”
“Would you… consider staying until Christmas? Just to get through the holiday rush?”
“That’s over two months away, Abby.”
“I know. I’m asking you to think about it. I don't think I can replace you before December.”
Her voice was soft but practical. She was always practical. And she was right; my lease required two months’ notice anyway. I could pay the rent and still leave early, but part of me hated the idea of leaving her short-handed during the busiest season.
“I’ll think about it,” I said.
She smiled faintly, like she knew that was as close to a promise as she’d get.
The day passed in a blur of ringing phones and the steady flow of customers. I kept my head down, shelving books, bagging purchases, answering questions about authors and upcoming releases.
Tomorrow morning, I’d head home for a few days. I’d see my family. I’d sleep without checking the locks twice. I’d remember what it felt like to breathe without that constant, quiet fear.
I’d let go of Andrew.
Let go of the dream I had for us.
I had to.
The knock started as a steady thud, loud enough to rattle the picture frames on the wall.
I froze in the middle of my living room.
It wasn’t just a knock. It was his knock.
“Cassidy! Open the door!”
Andrew’s voice cut through the wood, sharp and impatient. My stomach twisted. I’d been home all of five minutes, still unpacking my bag, when he’d shown up.
I backed up, putting more space between me and the door. My phone buzzed on the coffee table, Chase.
For a second, I almost didn’t answer. If I ignored him, I could pretend this wasn’t happening. But the pounding didn’t stop, and my pulse was too loud in my ears.
“Hey,” I said, trying to sound normal.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah. I’m fine.” I lied.
Then Andrew’s voice came again, muffled but still audible. “Cassidy, we need to talk!”
There was a pause on Chase’s end. “Who’s that?”
I swallowed. “It’s… Andrew.”
His voice hardened instantly. “Why is he there?”
“He's not here with me, he's at my door... I don’t know. He just showed up. He’ll leave soon...”
Chase was quiet for a moment. I heard someone in the background shout for him, but he ignored them and asked, “How often does he do this?”
I didn’t answer. The silence was enough.
“I’m coming over.”
“Chase, no. He’ll be gone before you get here.”
“Too bad,” he said, and hung up.
I stood there, phone still in my hand, as Andrew kept talking through the door, half apologies, half accusations. I didn’t answer. Eventually, the pounding stopped, replaced by a long stretch of quiet that was somehow worse.
By the time headlights swept across my window, Andrew was long gone.
I watched as Chase got out of the passenger side of a truck. Brody was behind the wheel.
When they finally made it to my apartment, I pulled him to me and asked, “What is he doing here?”
“I was at Adam’s,” Chase said. “Helping with the pub opening. I had a few drinks. Brody hadn’t, so he drove.”
Brody gave me a half-smile. “Good thing, too. Your brother was about to sprint here on foot.”
Chase’s eyes swept over me, assessing. “We’re staying tonight.”
“That’s not necessary...”
“It is,” he said flatly. “You got anything good to eat? Or drink?”
Without waiting for an answer, he headed into the kitchen and started pulling things from the fridge like he lived here.
I turned to Brody. “You don’t have to stay. I know this is an inconvenience.”
He shook his head. “Not an inconvenience, Cassidy. I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”
I tried to smile. “Brody...”
“I want to stay,” he said simply, placing his large, calloused hand on my shoulder. “So I will.”
Something in my chest eased, not all the way, but enough to breathe.
The kitchen lights were warm, the kind that made everything look softer than it felt. Chase had already found a cutting board and a knife.
“You really only have cheese, crackers, and… is this leftover Chinese?” he asked, holding up a takeout container with two fingers.
“It’s perfectly fine,” I said, leaning against the counter. “It’s only a few days old.”
He gave me a look that said, 'You're kidding, right?' and tossed it in the trash.
Brody was leaning on the opposite counter, watching Chase raid my fridge like it was some kind of spectator sport. “She’s got wine,” he offered, pulling a bottle from the rack. “And… three kinds of tea.”
Chase set a small pile of cheese and crackers on the counter between us. “Eat. You look like you’ve been running on fumes.”
Brody poured three glasses of wine and passed the glasses around.
“You really don’t have to stay,” I told him again, though my voice lacked conviction.
Brody shook his head. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
Chase cut in before I could respond. “And even if you could, I’m not going anywhere either. So deal with it.”
There was no edge in his voice, just quiet certainty.
"So Adam is back and opening a pub?" I asked, trying to direct the conversation anywhere but the reason why these two were standing in my kitchen..
Brody smiled, "Ya, he decided he wanted to do his own thing, he is going to work with mom and dad with what they grow and do a farm-to-table, pub environment, but fresh, cool food."
I smiled back at him, "That is amazing, I can't wait to check it out. It is so crazy that you three all came back around the same time."
"He said to invite you to his opening night," Chase added. "And when you come home, the whole gang will be back together."
I didn't know if I agreed with that. Being five years younger than Clara, six years younger than Brody and Chase... Adam was what... like ten years older than me... they had been the gang and I had been the shadow, the tag along.
For a while, we stood there, the three of us, eating crackers and cheese like it was a midnight feast. The air felt lighter somehow, Brody slipping in little one-liners that made Chase roll his eyes, me laughing despite myself.
When I finally sat down on the couch, they followed, Chase taking the armchair, Brody the far end of the couch. I curled up in the corner with my wine, feeling something I hadn’t felt in days.
Safe.