“Cassie.” I grasped her shoulder and gently shook her. She fell back so that she was lying flat on the bed, and in that one moment, my whole world changed.
Deep gashes had been slashed vertically from her wrists to halfway down her forearms. All I could see was red. The red of the blood covering her arms; the red of her blood-soaked clothes and the mattress beneath her; the red on my hands as I futilely scrabbled to put pressure on her wounds to try to stop the bleeding. Her eyes were closed, far removed from the death scene she had created.
I heard wailing that sounded almost inhuman, as if an animal was being slaughtered. Only later would I realize that the sounds had come from me. The next few moments were a blur as I screamed through the open door of our room for help as I grabbed my cell phone from my bag and frantically dialed 9-1-1.
Everything I touched turned red. The wall that I grasped to hold myself up as I begged the operator to send an ambulance as fast as possible; my phone that I was gripping so tightly that it was cutting into my fingers; the edge of the bed cover as I sank to my knees and frantically followed the directions of the operator who was trying to help me save Cassie.
I was vaguely aware of the cries and sobs of people behind me as they gathered to witness Cassie’s death. I was too distraught trying to save her life to notice, not realizing that it was an impossible feat.
A shuddering sob wracked my body as I closed my eyes against the images, but the darkness of my mind only made them more vivid. It had already been too late by the time the paramedics had arrived; she was already gone.
I had experienced a paradigm shift that day. Life had always been filled with endless possibilities, and I had been so sure of certain truths. I trusted my instincts and believed that people were who they showed themselves to be. I believed that the happy, confident people of this world would lead happy, confident lives. I never doubted that having a bright future was a right, not a privilege.
All those beliefs had been crushed that day. I realized how precarious life was and that happiness was often just an illusion to hide the most damaged hearts. The hardest lesson I learned that day was about myself. I wasn’t who I believed I was, who I hoped to be. I had built my character on trust, loyalty and integrity, but it had been built on a foundation of sand. That day, I had promised myself I would spend the rest of my life trying to make up for my sins.
My heart ached in present day and I felt utterly alone as I sat in my apartment. I was bitterly disappointed that Logan hadn’t reached out to me, but I realized that it was only right. I didn’t deserve the comfort of his presence when I had betrayed Cassie again with a kiss.
Day turned into night, and my melancholy deepened with the darkening sky. I stopped watching my phone, not caring whether Logan contacted me anymore. I took a double dose of sleeping pills and went to bed, praying that my sleep would be a dreamless one.
Chapter Nine
Getting out of bed on Friday was a feat in itself. I had to remind myself multiple times that I had a deadline to meet for my article, and l couldn’t hide from real life just because of the guilt weighing heavily on me.
The thought of taking a shower was overwhelming, so I just washed my face, ran a perfunctory t
oothbrush in my mouth, and got to work. I was bleary-eyed when I finished, and I was sure it was far from my best, but I heaved a sigh of relief when I was able to email the article to my boss.
It was almost three o’clock in the afternoon by the time I was done. I resented the sunlight streaming through my windows, wishing that the weather matched my despondent mood. I decided the best thing to do was to go back to bed, and I trudged to my room and crawled underneath the covers.
I was exhausted from the emotions roiling inside me and was able to fall asleep easily. The next thing I knew, I was jarred from a deep sleep by pounding on the door to my apartment. I was disoriented as I rubbed my eyes and checked the time. I couldn’t believe that I had been asleep for almost four hours and it was already dark outside.
The pounding on the door sounded again.
“What the hell,” I muttered as I dragged myself out of bed. My brain was still half-asleep as I made my way to the front door, turning on the lights along the way. I didn’t immediately register who I saw on the other side when I peered through my peephole. My hand, which had been about to unlock the deadbolt, froze when my brain caught up with my eyes. What the hell was Logan doing here?
“Madison, I can hear you on the other side of the door. I saw the lights turn on through the crack of the doorway. Don’t even think about pretending you’re not home.”
I jumped guiltily at the sound of his voice. That was exactly what I had been contemplating.
I took a deep breath before opening the door. I wasn’t sure why Logan was here, but not letting him in would only result in my neighbors wondering why a lunatic was banging down my door.
Despite all my reservations, I hungrily drank in the sight of him when I opened the door. I didn’t miss the dark circles under his eyes or the lines of fatigue on his face, but he was still as beautiful as ever. Even with an angry expression.
“You didn’t have to try to break down my door,” I said caustically, pushing aside the flicker of pleasure by his arrival. “Knocking like a normal person would have sufficed. How did you get inside my building anyway? I didn’t buzz you up.”
“Someone was leaving the building right when I arrived.” Logan raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to let me in?”
“Talk about crappy building security,” I muttered. I remained in the doorway, not letting him come in. I didn’t know if I was emotionally prepared to deal with him right now. “What are you doing here?”
“I don’t want to talk about this in the hallway.”
My mouth opened to protest, but before I could utter a word, he gently but firmly grasped my shoulders and pushed me back as he stepped inside my apartment. He had already closed the door behind him by the time I was able to voice my objections. “I don’t remember inviting you in!”
My aggravation grew when he ignored me and stalked into the living room. He turned around to face me, and I was suddenly aware of the coiled tension in his body as he watched me. I almost felt like I was prey being tracked by a predator, and I faltered, stopping several feet away from him.
“I ran into Emily tonight during a client dinner.” His hair was already mussed as if he had run his fingers through it several times, and he confirmed it by raking his hand through it once again as he watched me.
“Okay,” I said slowly, not understanding what this was leading to. “I didn’t realize that was important enough for you to storm into my apartment to let me know.”