Cassandra

Thank you Saige, Jester-Jami, ikkichi, Julie (hiiii! :D), and jackpot for reviewing!



This chapter may be a little graphic, but it\'s not anything near as bad as I could have made it. XD Hope you enjoy!



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The guest room was officially clean for the third time that afternoon. I\'d reorganized it so many times that my mind was even more boggled than the first time. Since breakfast, I hadn\'t heard a sound from Cassandra nor had I seen her pass by the open door of my current workspace except once. She must have gone into her office, and my face fell. I hoped I hadn\'t inspired another depressing art-piece.



Dave came home around one o\'clock and called for both of us immediately. His feet skidded to a halt as he came across the guest room after a fourth remodel. "Oh, Taylor," he acknowledged. "Where\'s Cassandra?"



I nudged my shoulder. "Her office."



He nodded. "Good work on this room. You may leave now."



Fake smiling, I rose and walked past him. I was tempted to tell him to say something to his wife for me, but there was nothing for me to say. Except that you love her. Yeah, like I can say that, pfft.



Tuesday I returned to the mansion and strolled up to the front door with less exuberance than yesterday. I was starting to feel sick about what I had done to Cassandra the morning before. She had to know that I was infatuated with her because a cowardly move like that would make me look so guilty. I\'d already messed it all up. Why was I even coming back?



"Come in," Dave\'s voice gruffly called.



A little confused by the unusual tone and way of entering, I shut the door behind me and saw that Dave was still tying his tie. His eyes were red and irritated, and his hair was a bit disheveled. I was going to ask him if everything was alright but he cut me off before I could say anything. "Cassie\'s upstairs in the bedroom. Don\'t bother her." His voice was stern. "Work on something downstairs if you can find anything. I\'d prefer you didn\'t go up there."



With drawn eyebrows, I nodded in his direction. "Is everything okay?" I finally inquired.



A noise fell out of his mouth as he grabbed his case, filling it up with different papers, and snatched his jacket from a hook. "Yes, just do as I said, please," he grunted. He was so weird then. Like, he was strange as a whole, but I felt so uncomfortable standing there and watching him. I thought he was going to combust at some point before he left.



When the door shut, my curiosity flared up. I bolted up the stairs and nearly fell in front of the master bedroom I was going so fast. I perched my ear against the frame and listened for her voice. Anything. She may have been sleeping or something. Well, I thought that until I heard her moan. I gasped softly at the noise while a tingling sensation stirred in my middle and pelvis. That had to have been her.



And then she whimpered. That was her too. And she whimpered again. In pain.



"Cassandra?!" I called, knocking on the door. "Are you okay?!" What if she was hurt? She must have been!



She whimpered again. "Taylor?" Her voice was soft, miles away.



"Yes, it\'s me," I told her, my voice growing more urgent. "What\'s wrong?!"



There was silence on the other side for a moment, and then she let out a cry. Her breathing was heavy, too; she sounded like she was panting.



"Cassandra, please!"



I heard her breathe raggedly. "Go to the bathroom..." she said from the other side of the door. "Get some alcohol... aspirin... a cloth and"-- she hissed in pain, making me cringe --"gauze and tape..."



Running towards the first bathroom, I flew myself into the counter, throwing the cupboards and drawers open to find the assigned items that she asked for. The cloth and rubbing alcohol was easy to find, along with the aspirin, but I couldn\'t find the gauze or tape or any other bandages, for that matter. In the other bathroom, just by looking in one cupboard, I found an entire first-aid kit so I grabbed that and trucked it back to the master bedroom door.



"I have everything," I said to the door, lightly panting as well. God, I hoped she was okay. Dave must have known she was hurt, so why didn\'t he let me know? Or why did he just leave and not do something about it? By those sounds from the room, Cassandra sounded like something was eating her alive.



The doorknob turned and opened slowly. Swallowing, I took a step into the mystery bedroom and looked around the door, careless of the bedroom itself. I could have admired it later. My current problem was making sure the part-owner of that house was okay.



Cassandra turned on a lamp on the bedside table to reveal her slim form in a black t-shirt and boxer shorts of the same color. Her hair was up again in another messy ponytail that let most of her hair fall out from the hold. I hadn\'t seen her face, only her profile and the back of her, but I could hear her hisses of pain and sniffles as she crawled onto the bed, pushing the white covers down to the end, and sat down cross-legged near the center. She angled her head just enough to see me, hot tears welled in her eyes, and whispered, "Come here."



I took all the supplies and joined her as softly as possible on the bed. "What do you need me to do?" I asked quietly, fear growing inside me as I waited for her answer.



She drew in a sharp breath and lifted her arms up into the air. "Help, um... Help me get this shirt off."



Thankfully she was looking the other way so she didn\'t see the rush of red flood my face. I got to my knees and erected my back, tucking my fingers under the bottom of her shirt. Slowly, I pulled up on the material, pausing every time I heard a noise escape Cassandra\'s mouth. I closed my eyes as her naked torso was shown to the wall opposite to me. It would have been rude of me to look at her in such a way.



The t-shirt was completely removed and I tossed it onto the blankets at the end of the mattress. I was about to ask what to do next but a shuddering gasp stopped any oncoming words. Just above her shorts were long red strips resembling the shape of a belt. Whip marks? Some of the achingly red marks were bleeding. I immediately felt shivers all over my body at the sight. "Cassandra!" I gasped again. "Who--"



I paused again and gasped. There was only one person that could have done this to her.



"Did Dave do this?!" I whisper-cried, staring at the lacerations in shock.



She stifled a whimper the best she could as cold air graced the open wounds. "Taylor," she hissed. "Clean them, please."



Swallowing down the rest of my questions, I grabbed the cloth, suddenly angry with myself for choosing a pure white one, and poured some of the alcohol onto it. "It\'s going to sting," I said to her warily.



Her head bobbed as she nodded. I could see that her fine fingernails were digging into her knees already, bracing herself for the medication. I bit down on my lip as I tenderly pressed the cloth to one of the wounds, cringing as I heard her cry out in pain.



"I\'m sorry!" I apologized constantly, continuing to clean the gashes and listening to her mourns and whimpers. They were gradually getting better and her exclaims were growing softer with each dab or stroke. As I washed the blood off, I admired the creamy color of the skin upon her back. I wished I could comfort her some way while I disinfected the marks. Then I reminded myself of what could have been brought upon that decision and chose against it.



"Will you tell me now if he did this?" I asked a few minutes later after taking some gauze and holding it to her freshly cleaned lower back with some tape. "I know you didn\'t do this to yourself."



Instead of digging into her kneecaps, Cassandra had wrapped one of her arms around her chest to shield herself from view. "There\'s more to it than that, Taylor," she murmured, eyes in the other direction.



I shook my head. "If he\'s hurting you--"



"Taylor," she said, using a defensive tone.



A fire lit inside of me. "No," I said back to her -- well, to her back, really. "Cassandra, you can\'t let him do that to you! I don\'t care what the other problems are! No one deserves to be beaten like this, and you of all people! You don\'t deserve this! Is that what happened to your lip, too?! He hit you then, too?!" I scoffed as my temper flared to impossible new measures; I\'d never been so angry before in my life. "That isn\'t right! You need to go to the police, and you need to get away from this guy! He\'ll hurt you even more and-and that can\'t happen!"



"Why?" she asked, her voice ever-so soft.



"Be-because you don\'t deserve that!" I cried back.



She turned to face me. "Why else?"



I panted. "Be... Because I..." I swallowed hard. "Because I love you..."



Cassandra stared at me, tears forming in her eyes. I shook my head, about to tell her that I was sorry, that what I just said was a mistake. And then she got to her knees and her chest clashed into mine and her lips trapped mine in the most passionate kiss I could have imagined. Her arms linked around my neck and her breasts were pressing into my chest and I couldn\'t believe what was happening. This was so much better than kissing Anthony Whipper -- a million times better. And she was so warm and soft under my fingertips. And her lips... oh god, her lips...



Oh, please, tell me it wasn\'t a dream. Tell me it was real and she was real and I loved her and she loved me and that this wasn\'t a dream.