Chapter 21

 

Cassie pulled on a sweatshirt and a pair of jeans and headed into the kitchen. She wanted to make Mason dinner and have it ready by the time he got back. A night in with the man she loved and a good home cooked meal sounded like a little piece of heaven.

She turned the corner and came to a skidding halt as her eyes landed on Dylan sitting at her kitchen table, lounged back in a chair, one arm on the table like he had been waiting for her. She wanted to run, but her body froze, making it impossible for her to move or talk. All she could do was stand there and stare.

He played with the ring on his finger and the memory of it slicing her cheek one time long ago caused the spot to ache, her stomach to twist in fear.

“Miss me?” he asked, and the sound of his voice was like salt on an open wound, burning and causing her to flinch.

She had no idea what time Mason would be back, and she had no way to get to the phone and call for help. Adrenaline pumped life back into her body, and she went to run when Dylan jumped up and grabbed her arm, his nails digging into her skin. “Not so fast, you little bitch.”

She was on her own face to face with her living, breathing nightmare, but this time she couldn’t run. Fight or flight wasn’t a decision when one was taken away from you. She had no choice but to fight and hope she survived. “You thought you could take off, and I wouldn’t find you? Thought you could play house with that little prick and I would let you?” His nails dug harder into her arm, and she tried to wriggle away, but it only made him squeeze tighter.

“Dylan, you’re hurting me.” She didn’t want to admit it, but she thought maybe if he felt in control it would help her, but if anything, it made it worse. Suddenly, Matt’s words echoed in her mind. Bring your elbow into the center line, flatten your hand, come right up, pinky around the wrist joint, and break their hold by snaking around.

She focused on the words, taking a deep breath as she brought her elbow in. In one quick motion, she pulled off the move, getting free of his hold.

She propelled herself forward when her shoulder exploded in hot searing pain as he slammed her against the wall, and it took the brunt of his force. “Did you really think you’d get away?” he growled, moving closer to her until she could feel his lips brushing her ear.

She swallowed down the bile rising in her throat, trying to find the strength inside her not to cry.

“I want you to know pain, bitch. I want you to regret ever thinking that you didn’t belong to me.”

She didn’t belong to him, and maybe it took her too long to realize that, but she knew that now, and she would rather die than ever be his again. She scanned the kitchen looking for a way out, before she made her next move.

He grabbed her face, whipping her head hard as his nails sunk into her flesh. “There’s no way out,” he said with a laugh that was pure evil.

“You’re wrong,” she said as she lifted her leg and kneed him in the groin, shoving him back with every ounce of strength she could muster.

He stumbled, and she slipped out of his reach, running for the door, but he grabbed her by the hair and yanked her back. A sharp throbbing pain radiated in her scalp, spreading to her temples.

His arms wrapped around her, squeezing the life out of her. She refused to submit to him, to make this easy. She kicked back, hoping to land a blow to his groin, but his legs closed and he dodged her move. She squirmed, continuing to move like Matt had told them too, fighting for her life, and trying to be the fighter Mason thought she was.

Groin, throat, feet, eyes and stomach. She just needed to land one good blow.

A white blinding smack came across her face as he spun her around and brought his hand to her cheek. She cried out, grabbing for her cheek, but also taking the opportunity to try and run again. He snatched her by the neck, smashing her against the wall. His hand tightened, pressing against her windpipe making it impossible for her to breathe.

She clawed at his hand, desperate for air. He didn’t flinch. He stared at her, dark black eyes filled with nothing but malevolence. She took away his control, and now he was taking it back. She didn’t stop fighting.

She lifted her arms, chopping into his as hard as she could. His grip loosened and she stomped his foot with all the energy she could manage.

“You whore!” he yelled, ramming his elbow into her throat and knocking her against the wall.

Pain exploded in her head and her eyes slipped shut. He pressed his body into hers, forcing his knee in between her legs and making it impossible for him to kick him in the groin if she even had the energy to do so.

“Someone learned how to fight,” he said, his breath hot on her cheek.

She thought of Mason. If she was going to die right now, she didn’t want Dylan’s face to be the last thing she saw. She wanted to see Mason, the man that she had fallen head over heels in love with. The man who loved her despite her many flaws. The man who loved all her pieces.

The world around her went black, but she focused on Mason’s face—that adorable smirk and those beautiful dark green eyes.

If she was going to die, at least she got to know what true love was. At least she got to experience it.

No. She wasn’t going to die. Not at the hands of this asshole. She wasn’t that weak girl she once was, and he needed to know that. She wasn’t going down so easily. She would fight to her death if that’s what it took.

Francine, I love you, but I’m not ready to see you.

“Groin, throat, feet, eyes and stomach,” she said.

“What the fuck are you mumbling?”

She forced her eyes to open and stared into the black soulless holes that took so much from her. She lifted her hands and jabbed her fingers into his eyes. A loud angry cry tore from his mouth as he reached for his eye.

“Eyes,” she said then jammed her foot into his, causing him to stumble back. “Feet.” She pushed her leg into his gut. “Stomach.” Then with every last ounce of strength she could gather she kneed him as hard as she could. “Groin.”

He fell to the ground, clutching his crotch and tears of relief poured down Cassie’s face.

She turned to run, slamming into a hard chest. She flung her arms out ready to fight when her eyes met familiar green eyes.

“I’m okay,” she assured him, but his eyes quickly diverted, focusing on Dylan who managed to get to his knees.

Mason stepped around her his fist coming down on Dylan’s face. Over and over and over.

Blood spurted from Dylan’s nose, but Mason didn’t stop. His fist was relentless, striking with unmistaken fury.

“Mason, stop!” she yelled, afraid if he didn’t he would kill Dylan. Not that she cared, the bastard deserved to die, but Mason didn’t need that on his conscience. The sound of bone breaking filled the room. “Mason! Please!”

But it was as if he couldn’t hear her. He had slipped into the darkness, and she couldn’t pull him out.