Princess OF The Street

Unwanted Intruder

Chapter Four

Cassandra’s pov

One month. Four days of looking over my shoulder, jumping at every loud noise, and constantly changing the direction I walked home.

"Hey, Lena! Are you deaf? I asked for a refill ten minutes ago!"

I flinched violently, snapping out of my thoughts. And the glass coffee pot trembled in my grip.

"I am so sorry, sir," I muttered, rushing over to the broken vinyl booth. "Here you go."

"About time," the man grunted, not even looking up at me. "Your service here is terrible."

"I apologize. It won't happen again."

I forced a polite nod, swallowing the strong, angry retort that the old Cassandra Vale would have unleashed. Cassandra was dead. I was Lena now. A nobody working the graveyard shift in a rundown diner, hiding in a town where no one knew my face.

I walked back behind the counter, I was really exhausted.

"Lena, come here," Martha, my manager, called out from the register.

"Yes, Martha? Did I mess up an order?"

"No, it's not that. Look at yourself in the reflection of the pie case. You look terrible."

"Thank you. That makes me feel great." I leaned against the counter, suddenly feeling dizzy.

"I'm serious," Martha said, her voice lowering into a whisper. "You are pale, you are sweating under the air conditioner, and you keep zoning out. Are you in trouble? Did you run away from a bad boyfriend?"

"No! Why would you say that?" My heart hammered against my ribs.

"Because you jump ten feet in the air every time the front door opens. You only pay in cash. You won't give me your real identification for the payroll. And now you're sick every single morning."

"I just ate something bad, Martha. That's all."

"This is the fourth time this week you've looked ready to pass out. You need to see a doctor."

"I don't need a doctor," I snapped faster than I intended. I couldn't afford a doctor. Doctors asked for ID. They asked questions. "I just need some water."

Before Martha could reply, a sudden, violent wave of nausea hit my stomach. I clamped a hand over my mouth, dropped my apron on the floor, and bolted for the employee restroom.

I pushed the door open, collapsed over the toilet, and dry-heaved until my ribs physically ached. Tears pricked my eyes. I sank down onto the rough tile floor and pulled my knees tightly to my chest.

Why is this happening? I thought. I was exhausted. My bones felt like lead. And my period was late.

My breath hitched.

"No," I whispered out loud to the empty stall. "No, that is impossible."

"Lena?" Martha knocked on the bathroom door. "You've been in there for twenty minutes. If you're contagious, I need you to clock out."

"I'm coming out," I rasped, wiping my mouth with the back of my trembling hand.

I unlocked the door.

"You're shaking," Martha said, softening the tone of her voice. "Go home. Stop at the pharmacy on the way and get some medicine."

I nodded numbly. I grabbed my worn-out coat and stepped out into the freezing night. Every footstep I took echoed and every passing car made me want to hide. My life was a mess.

At the pharmacy, I kept my hood pulled up over my head. I grabbed a small box from the aisle and walked quickly to the counter.

"Will that be all?" the cashier asked, popping a bubble of gum.

"Yes. Please hurry."

The cashier glanced down at the box. Looking briefly at the pregnancy test. "Rough night, huh?"

"Just ring it up."

"You know, these ones aren't always accurate. My sister took three of these and they all said negative, but guess who has a baby now?"

"Please," I pleaded, shaking my head. "I am in a hurry."

"Alright, alright. Don't bite my head off. That will be twelve dollars. Cash or card?"

"Cash," I said, throwing a crumpled twenty onto the counter. "Keep the change."

I practically ran out of the store. When I got to my small and old apartment, I locked the deadbolt and glued the metal chain into place. So, I checked the window locks to make sure everything was safe. Only then did I let myself breathe.

I walked into the bathroom and stared at the mirror. The woman looking back at me was a total stranger. I was thin, exhausted, and dark purple circles under hollow eyes. I had lost everything. I missed my father so much, missed running my dad’s empire and my safety. I was hunted by the very people whom I don't even know.

And now... this. I ripped the box open with shaking hands. I took the test.

The waiting was absolute torture. I sat on the edge of the bathtub, staring at the blank plastic stick sitting on the sink.

"Please, no," I begged the text strips, with tears streaming down my face. "Anything but this."

My mind flashed back to that night six months ago. I knew I made a mistake that night but I needed something to make me forget at least a bit of the pain I was going through.

"Damian," I whispered, the name tasted like a punishment in my mouth. I closed my eyes, remembering the argument and the s*x we had in his room that night.

“Your father deserved what he got,” he had yelled at me. “I have nothing left!” I had screamed back, completely broken.

We had used each other to numb our grief. Just one reckless heartbreaking emotional night born out of mutual hatred and pain. And I ran away the very next morning to save my own life.

"Time's up," I whispered to myself.

My hands shook violently as I reached out and picked up the white plastic stick. I squeezed my eyes shut. “One line. Let it be one line.” I muttered.

I opened my eyes. To my greatest surprised, it was two pink f*****g lines.

“Oh my God,” I fell down, and a loud sob ripped out of my throat. The test slipped from my fingers, and clattered into the porcelain sink.

"No!" I cried out, grabbing my hair. "No, no, no!"

I sank to my knees on the bathroom rug, rocking back and forth. The pain in my chest was unbearable. I was pregnant. I was carrying a child…Damian Blackwood’s child. The heir to the man who wanted me to suffer.

"How am I going to survive this?" I sobbed out loud, my voice echoing off the bathroom. "What am I going to do? I have no money. I have no home."

I cried until my throat was dry, and mourning the life I used to have, mourning the impossible, and terrifying situation I was now trapped in. How could I bring a child into this nightmare?

Suddenly, a quick vibration broke through my cries.

Bzzzt.

My phone was on the edge of the counter. I stopped crying and wiped my eyes with the back of my sleeve. I reached up and pulled the phone down. It was an unknown number.

My heart completely stopped beating. The blood drained from my face immediately. Who could this be?

I clicked the screen open. And a single message popped open.

‘We found you.”

The phone slipped from my hand, hitting the floor and immediately the floorboard squeaked in the hallway outside my bedroom. It was a slow, deliberate sound.

Someone was walking inside my apartment. I stopped breathing. The hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up. I turned my head slowly, looking out the open bathroom door toward the living room window.

Then, I saw a shadow that belonged to a man standing perfectly still close to the entrance door.