Young Retribution

II

I shot out of my bed the moment my eyes opened. My gaze scoured every inch of my room, looking for the monster had forced him way back into my life, and when it came up empty, a breath of relief pushed through my lips. My bed didn't even look like someone had slept next to me. D...did I dream it all up?

I walked up to the side of the bed he had climbed into and placed my hand flat against the left side. It was cool to the touch. If he had slept next to me, then there's no way that the spot wasn't warm.
Slowly, I drug my hand up to my neck and wrap my fingers lightly around it.

No. There was no way I dreamed all of last night. He had been in my room. He had watched me get undressed. He had wrapped his large hand around my neck and squeezed enough to put the fear of him in me.

The only question left was if he wasn't here, then where was he, and when did he leave.

Paisley suddenly flashed in the back of mind. With panic rising in my chest, I threw on one of my large sweatshirts, ran out of the bedroom, and darted across the hall to hers. Her door was closed, but when I grabbed the handle, it opened freely.
My heart jumped when I heard the sound of the shower running. Just to be on the safe side, I knocked on the door and crept it open, "Pais?"

"Good morning sunshine!"

"G-good morning." Talk about relief.

"Hey can you tell Tanner I want my eggs scrambled. I know I usually get dippy but I'm in the mood for the scrambles today."

"Tanner's here?" I asked, confused. He usually texted me before coming over.

"Well I hope that's him cooking in the kitchen cause clearly it's not you or me." My heart stopped. Tanner never texted me, and if it wasn't either Paisley or me cooking, then that could only mean one thing.
Taking a deep breath, I closed the bathroom door then headed back into the hallway. I took each step down stairs, one at a time, each softer than the previous. As I got closer to the bottom, a soft whistled tone began to fill the area around me. I followed it to the kitchen and paused in the open door way.

He was hunched over the shove. His torso was bare, scars carved across the prominent muscles that would flex with the slightest movement. Random tattoos were scattered across his body, some I knew and others I did not.

I'd seen the scene multiple times before. I remember waking up at his apartment in nothing but one of his shirts. I would skip my happy butt right into the kitchen and into his arms. I used to crave the feel of my arms wrapped around his body, my hands flat against his stomach as I left butterfly kisses scattered across his back.

Now I wanted to add more to those scars. I wanted to take one of the kitchen knives and stab it right into the right side of his back.

My eyes wandered to the kitchen island. Sitting there silently behind him, a colourful arraignment of knives called out to me like a sweet muse. It would be easy really. I'd tell Paisley he was an intruder. I'd tell the cops exactly who he was, and how he somehow escaped from prison and came back to get revenge for me getting him thrown in jail. He was so lost in his little world that he'd never see it coming -

"Good morning, Cali." I froze mid way to the knives.
Turning around slowly, Dominick stepped towards the island and placed a hand right next to them, "Sorry I wasn't there when you woke. I had to take care of some things. I took your key and let myself back in. It's been a while since I cooked you some food, so I thought I'd start with breakfast. Bacon and eggs - 2 egg whites, 1 normal egg - just like old times."

"Why?" I asked.

"Why what?"

"Why are you doing this?"