Dance For Me

Truth Kills

*Cassidy POV*

The sound of hard rain hitting the sliding glass doors wakes me up from the best sleep I've had in almost three weeks.

I roll onto my back from my right side to look away from the doors as lightening strikes. I stretch my arms above my body, towards the ceiling and my decent mood fades as I notice the bed is empty beside me.

Sitting up slowly, I wrap my arms around myself as I force myself to walk towards the bathroom.

It wasn't real. Corbyn wasn't here, it was just something I wanted, so I imagined it. He probably hasn't woken up yet, or maybe he did.

I stand in front of the large mirror in the bathroom, staring at my reflection. The bruise around my eye is slowly fading but the scars on my lip and eyebrow will never fade.

As I go to turn on the shower behind me, a light grey face cloth with dried blood on it makes me stop in my place.

It was real? He was here?

Why did he leave?

I race towards the bedroom door, taking a good look at the crooked handle. Someone clearly kicked the door open. He was really here.

I pull at the collar of my white shirt, feeling like it's suffocating me before I step out of the bedroom.

I walk towards the top of the staircase as a few creaks come from under my feet. Spencer's loud voice bounces off the walls and up the stairs, I don't know if he's actually talking to anyone as he rants about me.

"I don't know how much longer... until the boss says I'm done watching her" He sighs as I start going further down the stairs.

"She's a fucking brat but she's the bosses girl, so what he says-" Spencer's eyes snap to me as he whips the phone from his ear. He hangs up the call, placing it into the pocket of his black cargo pants.

"Good morning" He nods, as if I didn't hear what he was just saying.

For a man who senses everything, he's an idiot for saying that as I was walking down the stairs. Maybe he knew I'd hear him, either way, he clearly wasn't slick about it.

"When can I go home?" My voice is shy after the brat comment. I really haven't done much in these last few weeks, because I've had no motivation to do so.

"Not until I get the go ahead from Besson" He rolls his eyes.

First, I was stuck here until Corbyn woke up, now it's until Corbyn says I can leave. Well I can't stay here for a second longer. Corbyn is fine and well, I saw him last night. He's clearly okay and I'm okay, I guess. I'm going home. I'm going to see Cal, and gramma.

"When did Corbyn leave?" I pace my way towards the front door.

"A few hours ago"

"Take me home." My tone is strict as I glance down to my fuzzy black slippers and Corbyn's sweatpants that I'm wearing

"You're not allowed to leave" Spencer scoffs like I'm about to debate on this. I'll walk in the rain, if I have to.

"And what if I do?" I grab the door handle, calling his bluff, he won't do shit, and even if he does, I'm not afraid of him

"I do whatever means necessary to keep you inside" He takes a step closer to me, but he keeps a good distance

"Go for it" I fling the door open, and take off running.

I stumble down the steps and hiss as the freezing cold rain hits my body but I keep running. I don't know where I'm going or what the plan is, but I'm fucking leaving.