Cassie’s POV
"How did you find me?"
"Little Cassie. Look how grown you are." He walked further toward me. "It’s been so long since I’ve seen you, and you don’t even want to see your own daddy?"
Fear crawled up my spine immediately. Being here, in the dark, with him standing this close, it took me straight back to every time he’d come home drunk, every time he’d lost money gambling and taken it out on me and my mother, every time she’d refused to hand over money she’d worked herself sick for.
"You were never a father to me. Stay away."
He kept coming anyway, slow and deliberate, like a predator that already knew it had cornered its prey. In the dark, he wasn’t my father at all just the same beast I’d grown up hiding from.
Tears spilled down my face. I screamed for help, because there was no version of being alone with this man that ended well.
"Don’t scream, Casse. It’s just Daddy."
Casse. The name he used whenever I was hiding, waiting for him to finish with my mother so it would be my turn next.
"I’ll call security," I said, my voice cracking despite how loud I tried to make it.
"Security? Security?" He lunged, clamping a hand over my mouth. Every memory I’d spent years trying to bury came rushing back at once.
"Scream again, and I’ll cut that mouth open." He showed me the knife.
Ice ran straight through me. My throat closed up entirely.
"All I want is money," he whispered. "That’s all Daddy wants."
I made muffled, useless sounds against his hand, tears streaming freely now. I couldn’t give him money, I knew exactly how that story went. He’d never stop coming back. And even if I wanted to, I didn’t have a single dollar on me.
Struggling to breathe, barely able to speak, I felt his hand press harder over my mouth, over part of my nose too.
"Why can’t you just do what you’re told." His voice snapped with the same old fury, the same face I remembered dark, twisted, veins straining against his skin. The exact monster I grew up under the same roof with.
"You want to end up like Juliana?"
Juliana. My mother’s name, spoken like an afterthought the woman who endured every version of him, loved him, fed him, absorbed every ounce of his cruelty, and still wasn’t worth remembering as anything more than a warning.
Just as he reached for my bag, a light cut through the dark from the balcony above.
"Who’s there?" Kate’s voice rang out.
"Kate! Kate!" I fought against his grip, throat raw.
She shouted for the gatekeeper, and the second the gate creaked open, his hold on me finally loosened.
"Cassie! We’ll see about this!" he screamed, already sprinting off, the gatekeeper chasing behind him.
Kate ran to me, wrapping me in a hug so tight it almost hurt.
"I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry you had to go through that again." She was crying too, right there with me.
She’d been there every single time he’d hurt me growing up trying to fix it, trying to help. She’d even once forced her father to step in, back when it went to court, but my mother had denied everything under oath. My father had made sure of that threatened to kill me if she said a word.
"I swear he will never set foot near you again."
She held onto me as she walked me inside, and I sat there, still shaking, trying to piece myself back together.
"How did he even find me? I never told anyone I was back in New Jersey."
"You know him. He always finds a way."
All I could think about was the day he’d put my mother in the hospital — the day that eventually took her from me entirely.
"He had a knife, Kate. He said he’d kill me." I choked the words out, trying to hold back another wave of tears.
"All he wanted was money. He never once asked how I was doing. His own daughter, who left home at eighteen, and he..." The sentence broke apart before I could finish it.
"I’m so sorry, baby." She rubbed slow circles on my back. "I promise you, he is never coming near this place again."
"I promise." Her arms tightened around me, pulling me fully into her chest. "I’m always here for you."
Hearing her say that eased something in me. I hadn’t felt genuine, unconditional love like that from anyone since my mother died but Kate had always been there, every single time I fell apart, ready to help put me back together.
I pressed my face deeper into her shoulder, needing to be held until I could breathe normally again.
************
Morning came eventually. I woke up still in my dress from the night before, makeup dried onto my face, curled up on the cushions.
I kicked the blanket off. Kate must have covered me at some point while she slept on the other couch.
My eyes felt swollen and heavy, like two bruised skies after a storm that hadn’t fully passed.
I dragged myself into the bathroom and stared at my reflection. All I could see staring back was the Cassie from eight years ago. A version of myself I hadn’t looked at in a long time, and didn’t particularly want to look at now either.
I ran the tap and splashed cold water on my face, again and again, until I started feeling more like myself with each splash. I brushed my teeth, rinsed, and shut the water off.
Kate was already up by the time I made it to the kitchen, and I started on breakfast.
"What are we having?" She perched on a stool at the counter like she was waiting to be served.
"Pancakes, eggs, milk." I plated hers first, drizzled honey over the pancakes, and slid it across to her.
"Mmm. Smells amazing." She leaned down to smell it before even picking up her fork.
"I know." I sat across from her with my own plate, and we ate in a comfortable, easy quiet.
"How are you feeling?"
Still shaken, if I was being honest. Still scared underneath it all. But I was managing to hold myself together, piece by piece.
"Better. I’m feeling better."
"Good. I’m glad."
We kept eating, the silence settling nicely between us, until the doorbell cut through it.
(Ding.)
We froze, looking at each other. I could see the same fear reflected back at me in her face.
What if it’s him? Came back to finish what he started?
"Stay here." Kate grabbed the metal bat from beside the kitchen counter. I trailed behind her anyway, heart hammering, as she peeked through the peephole.
"...A delivery guy?"
She tucked the bat out of sight before opening the door halfway. "Yes? Is everything okay?"
"Morning, ma’am. Delivery for you, from Dylan Blackwood."
"Mr. Blackwood?" I murmured, drifting closer to the door.
"Sign here, please." Kate signed, and the delivery man nodded and left.
She shut the door and turned to me, still holding the small package.
"What is it?"
"Flowers." She peeked inside, smiling despite her confusion. "Peonies."
Peonies. I’d mentioned once, in passing, that I loved them. I hadn’t expected him to actually remember — let alone act on it.
Mr. Blackwood got me flowers.