Wish You Were Here

Part 28: The Return

*trigger warning for physical abuse/sexual assault etc please be warned*

1 ½ Months Later

To say I'm tired is an understatement. It's written all over my face, my dark circles, I'm paler than I was, I've lost weight, and my eyes are always red. I've kept to myself since the boys left mostly. I talk to Michael and Cal daily, and the other boys at least once a week. I hardly leave my apartment at all, I haven't needed to and I don't want to.

My appetite is gone almost entirely from my anxiety, and the nightmares make it impossible to sleep more than a few hours a night.

I look like shit and I know it, but I just hope no one else notices and starts to worry. I refuse to be a burden and damper the tour for my favorite boys.

I miss him all of the time, and if it wasn't for my paranoia and nightmares it wouldn't be so bad and I could handle him being gone. I've been channeling my emotions into my work, attempting to catch up to my editors demands after not writing for too long.

I spoke to Ray today and we both let the other go on and on about missing our boys. It's the best thing having her understand the feeling, and I hope she feels the same way.

Another long day of moping, writing, texting the boys when they can talk, and frantically answering my phone the moment it rings. The only difference today was a meeting I had. I actually had to physically leave my cave of an apartment this afternoon to go to the publishing office. They praised the new work I brought in for them thank god, I've been worried I was losing my touch.

It's now just past midnight, and I'm throwing on a pair of sweatpants, cursing under my breath that I left my laptop charger in my car earlier today. I was in the middle of important work when my laptop decided to tell me I have a low battery. I grab my car keys and stuff my feet into my slippers before opening the front door.

I wasn't thinking straight after over a month of hardly sleeping. My mind has been covered in a thick fog and I knew I was slipping on things. I never expected this though.

I couldn't possibly have known that the one time I forgot to check before opening the door it would ruin my life.

— — —

"Look at my pretty girl opening the door before I could even knock. I've missed you."

My blood freezes in my veins as he pushes his way into the apartment, locking the door behind him.

"I knew I recognized him from somewhere you know... I just couldn't place it until I saw his face online today. My little baby is with a rockstar now, and it looks like your bodyguard boyfriend is on tour right now. Is that right, honey?"

Shit. Fuck. God damnit. Fuck it all. He knows Cal is gone, he knows I'm alone and he's going to kill me. I just know he will.

My phone is in my bedroom, charging on the dresser and it's too far away for me to make a run for it. His eyes are locked on me with an evil glint behind them, his sinister smile I know too well spread across his sour lips.

I'm breathing shakily, attempting to hide my fear and stay steady on my feet as he approaches me.

"You'll never replace me, not with him or anyone else. You're always going to want me, Cass and I know it because you'll never find someone better. I'll show you just what you've been missing don't you worry. I'll make sure you remember."

Stay strong, keep breathing. Stay strong, keep breathing. It's all I can do.

"How many girls do you think he's fucked since he left? Did he ever even fuck you? Hmm pretty girl? I bet he's seen all sorts of things while he's away, all better than you to him. Not to me though, no there's no better than my girl."

That stung a little, and I'll admit it. What's worse was hearing him call me his, something I never was and will never be.

He's right in front of me now, having crossed the room to where I initially backed myself to. He reaches in his pocket and I know what's coming. He flips open the blade I've seen before, some sort of hunting knife. It's big enough for him to kill me, and I'm bracing myself for it.

"Don't look so scared." He coos dragging the blade over my cheekbone with a featherlight touch so it won't break my skin.

"It's only to keep you cooperative." His hands go to his belt and my stomach lurches. I think fast, trying to come up with anything I can to get myself out of this. There's nothing I can do... I'm stuck.

He leads me to the couch, poking my back with the sharp metal. He lays me down and places the blade at my throat.

I'll play his game, but I always play to win and he should know that.

I get him distracted, throwing my hand back to grab the arm of the couch, feigning satisfaction. He's a cocky bastard and always has been, and today it'll finally be his downfall. He's saying nasty, vile things to me as he moves his hand from my throat, needing his hand to balance himself. I have him convinced I missed him, convinced I want him.

All I have is one split second and I can't fuck it up.