Page 120 of The Monster and the Masochist

Iwoke up in the guest room.

Why was I–oh... Fuck.

Memories from the night before came rushing back, and I curled into myself against the almost painful feelings of shame.

The shame and the guilt hurt almost more than the hangover, which was saying something.

I remembered taking the Uber to the liquor store… I remembered downing most of the vodka on the walk to the cemetery… I didn’t remember coming back here.

Why the fuck would drunk Theo come back here!?

I was in the guest room, though… Maybe drunk Theo managed to get back in without Cass knowing?

She’d probably be confused and ask why I came home so late, and I could just explain I’d slept in the guest room so I wouldn’t wake her up.

Biting back a groan, I forced myself to sit up.

I didn’t even know what time it was…

My stomach rolled, and my head spun as I pushed myself to my feet.

I was completely naked, which was concerning, as a quick scan of the room told me I hadn’t taken my clothes off in here.

Fuck.

Slowly and clumsily, I diligently forced myself to go on the most depressing scavenger hunt in the world.

“Cass?” I croaked, but I was met with silence.

She must already be at work. Thank fuck.

Anxiety swirled in my gut at the fact that if Cass was at work, there was a possibility she was sitting in the same room as the man who had repeatedly molested me as a child.

Bile flooded my mouth, and I almost threw up.

I needed more vodka.

My brain literally couldn’t handle the thought of that.

That itchy, buzzing feeling was building in my head again, and I crushed my eyes shut against the agonizing pressure.

Make it stop.

Make it stop.

Please, for the love of fuck, make it stop…

Trembling helplessly through wave after wave of trauma, I wandered through the empty condo until I found the clothes I was wearing the night before in the hamper in Cass’s room.

That couldn’t be good.

Pulling out clean clothes from the drawers she’d let me use, I got dressed as quickly as I could before making my way into the kitchen.

The clock over the stove said 9:45 am, which meant Cass had been at work for hours already.

Happily, I wasn’t late for any sort of meeting with Jerry, as it was fight day, so we wouldn’t be training today. I was supposed to be resting until later.

Running a hand down my face, I took a deep breath, trying to get my bearings, when I noticed a bright pink Post-it note on the counter.