Page 131 of The Monster and the Masochist

“You are forbidden from fighting again,” she finally said, and I rolled my eyes, shoving her back so I could finally get up and abandon this fucked up conversation.

“Whatever, Cass,” I grumbled, bracing my hand on the edge of the counter so I could use it to help me stand up. “Sorry I’m not quite fitting into your perfect fucking life. Let me just pack some shit, and I’ll get out of your hair. I’ll come back for the rest of my shit tomorrow.”

My body groaned in protest as I struggled to stand. My head swam, and I was so dizzy I almost didn’t hear the sound of pure indignation that came out of Cassandra’s mouth.

“What?” she choked, but I ignored her.

I couldn’t do this anymore. My body felt like it was made of lead. I was hungover and nauseous from all the wine I’d consumed, and the concussion sure as fuck wasn’t helping.

Listening to her chew me out for shit she didn’t understand might have been tolerable if I didn’t think it was just some long, drawn-out lead-up to telling me, ‘This just isn’t working.’

Or, ‘Maybe we just need some space.’

Or my personal favorite, ‘I think we both just need time for personal growth.’

I’d heard them all before.

I wasn’t really interested in hearing them again.

Especially not from Cassandra.

My suspicions that this was over proved correct when Cass didn’t follow me out into the hall.

I stumbled into her bedroom and pulled open one of the drawers she’d let me keep my clothes in before dragging my gym bag over so I could start shoving shit into it.

I winced at the sight of the empty wine bottles I’d yet to dispose of, and took the time to make sure they were separated by a t-shirt so they didn’t clink together when I walked.

Ignoring the lump that was steadily growing in my throat, I closed the drawer and got shakily to my feet.

Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and took a moment to grieve the fact that whatever this was, it was already over.

At least I got to have her for a little while…

My pity party didn’t last long.

There was a screech, and suddenly, I was yanked backward. Strong fingers curled into the back of my sports bra, and with a surprising amount of finesse and force, Cassandra launched me backward across the room.

I dropped my bag in an effort to keep myself from tumbling back onto her bed, but the effort was futile.

She slammed into me in a crimson and black streak of fury, and I let out a surprised bark of pain as she pinned me down to the bed.

Straddling my hips, she wrapped her hand around my throat. Her silky dark hair cascaded around us in a wave of ink as she leaned over me with a snarl.

“C-Cass… Wh-what?” I stammered. My head was pounding from the minor whiplash I’d sustained from being tossed like a rag doll, and my stomach roiled with nausea as she crushed her sharp fingernails into the sides of my throat.

She didn’t answer me. Her pupils were blown so wide they’d eaten the brown of her irises, and I had the distinct feeling that I wasn’t looking at Cassandra anymore.

That cold part of her was floating near the surface, and she seemed to actively be fighting it.

“NO!” she screeched. Abruptly, she released my throat and tore at her own hair instead, crushing her eyes shut as she shook her head. “No! We’re not doing that! SHUT UP! Shut up, shut up, shut UP!”

“Cass…” I croaked.

She looked… distraught.

Forgetting my own anger, I instinctively reached up to try to cup her cheek, but that seemed to be the wrong thing to do.

The second my fingers touched her face, she lost the battle with whatever she was fighting, and she was on me again.