Squad 6 | COMPLETED

Chapter 36- Andrew

Andrew

Mom caressed his hair. Andrew was a little boy again, laying with his head on her lap. She talked but he didn't pay attention. He hadn't felt her touch in so long, it was surreal. Had he done it? Was he back home? He looked around. The front door led into the living room which connected directly to the dining room. The old gray couch was beneath him, the hand-made carpet in all its colors and stains still covered the squeaky, faded parquet. The apartment had that old smell of books and full wood mixed with lavender from the essential oils on the shelf.

"Andrew," his mom said. "You've disappointed me."

His heart sank as he turned to look at his mother. Her light brown hair was tied in a messy bun at the nape of her neck and she wore one of her favorite white cardigans. Andrew loved it too. It felt soft when he hugged her, like hugging an angel.

"Pourqoui, maman?" He thought that's what she'd be the proudest of. Him saving her.

"I wouldn't ever want you to harm people, Andrew."

"I tried, maman. But Maya's in danger now."

She shook her head. Andrew turned to see Felix and Nicole at the kitchen table. They gave him disapproving looks. "Fix it, love. I know you can. Own up to your mistakes. We'll be fine. Maya will be fine."

Andrew felt tears in his eyes. "You won't," he said. "Dad will hurt you again." He remembered his dad's punch, his glare, and his voice. The sound of his drunken footsteps sent chills down his back. He didn't know when his father had turned into a stranger to him.

Nicole laid a hand on Andrew's shoulder. Under her touch, he was small, weak and helpless. She was the older sister that had always protected him. "Andy, they didn't deserve this. You should not have lied." her voice was stern. "Make it right."

#

"Cassandra?" Andrew choked out. His vision was out of focus, making the figure on the bed blend in with the dark sheets. The figure moved, letting out an incomprehensible sentence. He could tell it was Cassie, from the feeling he got when her hand touched his, butterflies dancing in his stomach, averting attention from the aching deep in his bones.

His fingers intertwining with hers. He could make out his room in the apartment as his pupils struggled to adjust to the darkness.

Cassandra was lying on the other side of the bed, curled up in a ball near the edge. If she moved another inch, she'd end up on the floor.

Andrew furrowed his brows. Why was she in his bed?

"Cassie." He strained to reach her shoulder, the pain in his abdomen overpowering him. What happened?

"I'm sorry," he thought she had whispered. Her eyes were shut, tears glistering from tears.

"It's okay," Andrew said, feeling the lump grow in his throat. She couldn't hear him and she wasn't meant to. The words were meant for him. "C'est d'accord."

He relaxed, trying to clear his mind. His eyes were still heavy and all he wanted was to go back to sleep.

With his last bits of consciousness, he thought he heard Cassandra murmur. "Run."

#

The next time Andrew woke up, every part of him hurt. He felt like he'd been hit in the head with a frying pan and then run over by a tractor after which a stripper danced on his body in 12 inch heels. He groaned.

"Hey there."

Cassie stood by the bed, leaning over him, her arms crossed. She was dressed in a pair of jeans and a navy sweater with golden buttons on her cuffs.