The music swelled, a waltz this time, and Derick offered his hand. I took it, and a quiet joy bloomed within me as he guided me onto the dance floor. The earlier tension had evaporated, replaced by a lightness I hadn't realized I'd been missing. We moved together effortlessly, a silent conversation passing between us with each turn. I found myself laughing, a genuine, unrestrained sound, as Derick spun me gently, the opulent chandelier above cast a warm, golden glow on us, and for the first time tonight, I felt truly seen, truly accepted. The knot of anxiety was gone, replaced by the comforting rhythm of his heart against mine, and the soft murmur of his compliments against my ear.
We drifted from the dance floor, finding a secluded table laden with delectable food. As we ate, Derick asked me about my favorite books, and I found myself eagerly sharing my passions, my shyness melting away with each shared anecdote. He listened intently, his gaze never wavering, and it felt as if he were collecting pieces of my soul, cherishing each one.
Matt, true to form, flitted by occasionally, a quick, friendly word before being drawn back into the throng, but mostly, it was just us. The night was unfolding like a dream, a beautiful, unfolding story where my own voice finally felt heard and valued. Even the thought of my family, of Josh, no longer held the same suffocating power. As the night continued, we danced again, and then again. The night was drawing to a close, and seeing other couples and families making their way out, I knew Derick and I should go too. My cheeks warmed with the unspoken promise of the night ahead, a return to the special connection we'd already established at the rental earlier that day.
"Derick," I murmured softly, my fingers finding his as we continued our stroll.
He turned, his gaze meeting mine. "Yes, Cassy?" A blush bloomed warm against my neck.
"I just need to freshen up," I confessed, my eyes darting away, too shy to meet his directly. "And then... maybe we could head back to the rental?" My face felt impossibly hot, and I wasn't sure if he was catching my drift. "Just the two of us?" I added when a beat of silence stretched between us.
He squeezed my hand, his thumb tracing a gentle circle on my skin. "Cassy," he said, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through me, "I was rather hoping you'd say that. Lead the way." His eyes held a shared understanding, a quiet anticipation that mirrored my own. The warmth that had bloomed earlier now spread, a delightful ember fanned into a steady flame. We left the fading music and the lingering guests behind, the polished ballroom floor giving way to the hushed quiet of the corridor.
A small cough escaped me, a nervous attempt to break the simmering tension. "Just need the restroom before we leave, if that's okay," I said, adding a quick, "If that's alright."
Derick's fingers gently found my chin, drawing my gaze to his. "Cassy," he began, his voice soft. Then, a serious note entered his tone. "You never have to ask me for permission." His eyes held mine, and the understanding they conveyed was immeasurable.
I swallowed, feeling the heat rise. Pulling my hand free, I locked eyes with him once more. "Derick," I stated, my head held high. "I'm going to the restroom. Stay here." His eyes widened slightly, but I sensed a definite spark of amusement through our connection.
I knew, without a doubt, that a grin was on his face. "Yes, ma'am," he said. Wanting to retreat before I further embarrassed myself, I hurried off to the restroom.
The cool tiles of the restroom were a welcome contrast to the lingering warmth of the ballroom. I splashed water on my face, a desperate attempt to quell the blush that threatened to engulf me. Cassy, you're acting like a schoolgirl! I chided myself, catching my reflection in the ornate mirror. But even as I scolded myself, a thrill coursed through me. Derick's words, his gentle touch, his amused "Yes, ma'am" – it all painted a picture of a future I hadn't dared to imagine. I smoothed down my dress, took a deep breath, and plastered on a smile I hoped looked more confident than I felt.
I turned around then and froze, the world seemed to tilt, then stop altogether. A strangled gasp clawed its way up my throat, my blood turning to ice in my veins. There, framed in the doorway, stood Josh Blackwater. But it was his smirk, a predatory curl of his lip, that truly shattered me. It wasn't just a smile; it was a pronouncement, a silent declaration of ownership and absolute control that burrowed deep into my very soul. The lingering warmth I'd felt, the fragile tendrils of hope that had begun to unfurl within me, were instantly, brutally extinguished, leaving behind only a chilling void and a raw, visceral terror that coiled in my gut.
My breath hitched, the icy grip of terror tightening its hold. Josh. He stood there, his dirty blond hair slightly tousled, brown eyes narrowed with a chilling possessiveness. His smirk, the one that promised unspeakable things, felt like a physical blow. I wanted to scream, to run, but my feet were rooted to the spot, the cool tiles no longer a comfort but a stark reminder of my vulnerability. He reached behind him, the metallic click of the lock a death knell, sealing us together in this suffocating space. The memory of Derick's smile, the feeling of his hand in mine, flashed through my mind, a beacon in the encroaching darkness.
A guttural sound escaped me, a strangled cry that was swallowed by the thick silence. "No," I whispered, the word barely audible, but it held the weight of a thousand unspoken refusals. Josh's smirk widened, a flicker of amusement crossing his features as if he were enjoying my fear.
He took a step closer, his imposing height seeming to fill the small room. "Lost your tongue, Cassy?" he purred, his voice laced with a cruel satisfaction. The fragile hope I'd nurtured moments ago shattered, replaced by a primal instinct to survive, to claw my way out of this nightmare.
The air left my lungs before I could even gasp. Josh was on me, his hand clamped around my neck, and the realization hit me with sickening force: I was utterly, terrifyingly helpless. The abstract fear of him hurting me dissolved into the stark, visceral terror that he might end me, a chilling certainty that vibrated through my very bones. "Naughty Cassy," he purred, his voice a venomous promise against my ear.
As a last, desperate hope, I reached through the bond and screamed, "DERICK!"