Monday, November 11, 2013

i need him and i can't let my fears take that away from me. i'm not fighting for only me anymore [-seven-]

wednesday december 8 2010

Cassidy's POV

I'm so happy that he agreed to go out and talk with me. I know this time for sure I can't hide anything. He had to know the whole truth of why I moved down to Chicago and lied to him about being a native to Chicago. I can't be afraid of my past and what will happen in the future. Not only do I want to fight for mine and Patrick's relationship, but I have to fight for unborn child.

Now that I've finished up with the appointment that I was luckily able to get earlier this morning before I see Patrick at my favorite spot, Hot Chocolate  in Bucktown.

"Hi, thank-you for seeing me. It means a lot."


"Please, don’t be like that. I need you. I need you to understand where I'm coming from. The reasons why I've done things the way I did.  So can we please just go inside and talk about this." feeling uneasy and the need to get inside quick and off the street I reach out for the door, but Patrick's hand beat me to it and he motioned for me to go in first.

I found us our usual table down in the back, luckily we've beaten the lunch hour rush and the area around our table is quite bare.

"So," he says as he pulls out the chair and I sit in the bench seat against the wall, "What is it that you need to talk with me about?"

Not having yet answered his question, a waitress came up and asked us if we were ready to order.

"The chai hot chocolate and the mac and cheese, please. Thank-you."

"And I will have the half and half with mac and cheese, thanks."

With wasting no more time, I start answering his question. "Well, how about telling you the name I was born with. I was born Julianne Thomson.  I grew up in a small town off the BC coast, in Duncan on Vancouver island to be more precise. A few years after I graduated from high school, I moved to the mainland to Vancouver to go and continue my education and that is when I met him." I stop when the waitress arrives back with our drinks.

"Okay, so here is the chai hot chocolate for her and the half and half for him. Enjoy."

"Thanks." he answers her, then turns back to me hoping for me to continue.

"He is the reason for me moving here. Changing my name, and I'm also only here on a working visa. I just got it renewed a few weeks ago. That's the only way I am able to stay here in Chicago."

"So, wait a minute. Who is this guy? That is the only reason you moved to Chicago. To run away from this guy. Why?"

"You don't know what he's capable of."

"Try me. And you still haven't told me who this guy is."

"He's another hockey player. You've likely played against him before. He plays for the Canucks."

"Was he there playing against us in the game in Vancouver couple of weeks ago? Was he here playing in the game last week?"

"No. He wasn't playing. He's on the injury reserve list, but yes. He was here traveling with the team last week."

"Would I know him if I saw him? Which one is he?"

"Maybe. His name is Deacon Howes.*"


"Yeah, you know him?"

"Yeah. I played against him in juniors. He played with the Plymouth Whalers when I played with the London Knights. He played dirty hockey even then. I still can't believe he got drafted into the NHL though." he paused and looked over to our right and saw our waitress coming back with our food orders. He thanked her and turned he focus back onto me and continued on with our conversation.

"So, you still haven't told me the reason why you moved. Yes, you said it was because of this guy, Howes, but I sense there's a lot more than what you're telling me."

"Well your senses are correct." I reply feeling chilled about his instincts being right, I bring my hands and rub my arms that have suddenly felt chilled.

"You feeling cold? Here," he stands and takes off his jacket and brings it around and wrap it around my shoulders.

"Thanks." I pause for a few seconds, inhaling his scent that's ….. Off his jacket and I wrap it a little tighter around me before I continue, "You didn't have to do that."

"You looked cold and it seemed as though you needed some sort of safety blanket. I remembered you liked this jacket."

"And I still do."

With a quick exchange of half-smiles, he asks, "What happened? What did he do to you?" and as soon as the question was out of his mouth,  a loud bang of pots and pans came crashing down in the kitchen and it made me jump. I know he noticed. He reached a hand across the table and placed it on mine. My first instinct was to pull away from his hand but looking across the table from me, I knew this isn't the man I want to be running away from.

With a few more moments of silence, I begin again, "I suppose you've been noticing a bit more of that with me, jumping at every loud sound."


"Being jumpy, skiddish, and closed-off, is all the result of how Deacon treated me. In the beginning he treated me like a queen. Lavished with gifts. I thought it was the really deal. I never saw it coming until I found with another woman, his fiancee."

"He was married!?"

 "Not quite, but he told me later that night that she was the woman he had to marry because his and her family wouldn't accept the baby."

"She was pregnant!?"

"Yeah. And he promised me he didn't love her and that the baby wouldn't change his plans on being with me."

"How did you react?"

"After finding out how far along she was, I knew I couldn't stay with him and he didn't want to accept that."

"Why would you even entertain the idea with him that you'd want to stay?"

"Like I said. He treated me like a queen, plus I was young and naïve. But when I tried to leave and began dating other people he became violently possessive."

"Violently possessive?"

"He'd beat on me. He'd force himself on me. It got so bad that I was once was beaten so badly that I was in a coma for two weeks."

"Didn't you report him?"

"Of course I did, but the case got thrown out."

"How? By the sounds of it, there had to be something they could have case against him with."

"His wife's father is a police officer and his father's good friend is one of the best lawyer's in the country. There wasn't enough solid evidence that proved he was the one who done all that to me. And it even went as far as trying to convict one of my best friends for it all."

"So is that when you decided to change your name and move out to Chicago?"

"It wasn't the plan I wanted for my life, but with the way Deacon was making my life to be, I didn't necessarily have a choice. And there was a little bit more to just a name change and area code."

"And how was that?"

"Julianne Thomson, is actually dead. Or that's what everyone back there thinks."

"How is that possible?"

"Well, to tell you that, I have to explain how I got the name I'm using now."


"I got the name Cassidy from a friend's sister. She died in a fiery car crash. There wasn't much left of her by the time the firefighters arrived on scene. It was a terrible loss because she was my friend too."

"That's so awful, but how does it all work? What about the parents and other siblings?"

"They're parents died in a car crash when they were young, and it was only the two of them. They lived with their grandmother until she past on as well which actually wasn't that long before Cassidy died in her crash, and subsequently that's when Julianne died."

"So what you're saying is that you assumed her life?"

"Yes. With a great deal of help from her brother. He's the one who saw it as a way for me to escape. It came with a price for the both of us. He had to deal with the fact that his sister was gone, but yet not necessarily gone, and I had to cut all ties immediately with all my family." I pause, fighting back the water trying to well up in my eyes, "We had to make it as believe as possible. Although I still believe he has suffered the greater loss because he's all alone now. No parents, grandmother, and sister. He's left with no family. You don't know how awful I feel."

"From everything I heard, you suffered great loss too. You left your whole family behind to grieve over your death."

"It's all a lie! You have every right to hate me and walk away right now." I burst out, feeling the tears beginning to stream down my cheeks.

"No." his voice was firm and solid. "You have a right to live. Yes, it was at the cost of your friend's sister's life, but that's what saved you. And I'm grateful for that. If he didn't make that decision for you, you probably would be dead."

I drop my head in my hands, feeling so guilty. I hear his chair slide back away from the table and feel him sit beside me and wrap his arms around me. Then I feel him move in closer, hugging me tighter, he begins to whisper in my ear, "What I mean to say is, is that I'm indebted to him because I wouldn't have meet the best person I've ever met in my life."

That did it. I was in full blown sobs. And we just sat there like that until the restaurant closed.

*I've decided to use a fictional name for this character, due to the nature of the character I'm going to write him out to be.

Sunday, November 10, 2013

was there any truth or was i just a victim to all your lies? [-six-]

I can’t believe it's been more than two years since I've last updated this story. I hope that there are still readers waiting for this new chapter. 

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Patrick’s POV

 After leaving Sunday night’s game with an ankle injury and having had a very uncomfortable visit with my parents, moments after I left the ice, I asked Tazer if I could stay at his place for the night, saying that I just wasn’t ready to face my parents yet about the woman who I thought I knew. He reluctantly agreed and made me promise that it was only for the night but now its two days later and I’m still sprawled across his couch.

 As I angrily flip through the channels, I’m beginning to feel Tazer's burning glare taking aim at my head and then with a slight turn of my head, I snap.

“What the fuck is your problem Tazer!?”

“What my fucking problem is that you’ve been here for the last two days moping! When I specifically said you can stay over here for night, I meant for THAT ONE NIGHT,” he emphasizes those three words and continues on with his rant, “and not to permanently weld your ass to my couch!”

“Well sorry for being a shitty ass friend and overstaying my welcome. Let me just show myself out!” I steam back as I attempt to peel myself off his couch, noticing all my joints have had become stiff as I do so.

“For fuck sakes man, I get that you’re hurting but dude, it's been two days now and you’ve got to pull yourself back together. You haven’t moved off the couch in all that time except for bathroom breaks and helping yourself to my liquor! And hey, I get that right now you’re basically a cripple with that ankle of yours but suck it up man!" Looking at him, I see a lot of pain and a lot of anger of what he's going through. After looking at that face, I tried to lighten things up saying, "We're hockey players for Christ's sake! " 

"And hey, I know you’re still angry as hell at Cassidy…. Or whatever her name is… for what she has done to you but dear God, cut her a little bit of slack! From all that I’ve heard and read she has gone through hell and back. Also your phone has been ringing off the hook day and night and quite frankly I’m getting sick and tired of it!

"What makes you think that I'm hurting about her? She lied straight from day one. How can I ever trust her again?"

"Dude," I sit myself down beside him, "I can see it in your eyes. And…"

"And what??"  he says quietly moping.

"And… you still dream of her."

"How would you know?"

"You talk in your sleep!" I slouch, leaning back on the couch with both elbows on the back of the couch. "It's like you were there when she packed up and left your guy's apartment. You're begging her not to go."

His facial features turn like stone, eyebrows furrowed and lets out one deep, long exhale and closes his eyes.

"Just because I dream of her and you claim that I'm begging her to not leave, does not mean that I'm still in love with her. Whoever she is. Also, what the hell? What do you mean from what you've heard and read?"

"Uh… how about getting a proper meal into you first? Looking at you, it looks as though it's been awhile."
Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Cassidy's POV

I'm such a fool. How could I ever think that I could just change my name and area code and think that he would never find me. And how can I be such a coward and not tell the man that I love who I really am. Who I was. I am not her anymore. She was the victim. But then again it was always his word against hers. And it still will be. No one will believe some unknown small town girl's word over and NHL hockey player's word. 

Fuck. How could I let myself back into this world of hockey players again? I surely didn't learn from the first time round, but Patrick Kane is different. An one-eighty, kind of different. Patrick….All he has done was love me from day one and all I have done was lied. I don't deserve him. 

As all these thoughts run through my head, of all the screw-ups I've made through out these last couple of years, in the 5 minutes I'm waiting, my cell phone timer beeps and I tentatively make my way back to the bathroom sink and check the test result.


Hastily, I grab for the box to make sure I'm reading the test right. Looking back and forth between the box and the test a couple of times… I'm pregnant.

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Patrick's POV

In the last hour my phone has been either ringing or buzzing the whole entire time and I know it's really pissing Johnny off right now, so I picked it up, checked who is leaving me messages and then shut it off. I don't want to talk to any of them right now. 

"Both she and my parents are calling and leaving text messages."

"Why don't you answer any of them back?"

"I don't want to talk with any of them right now."


"Because my parents will just smother me to death, asking what happened to her and if I'm okay. And quite frankly I can't give a shit about what she has to say right now."

"Okay, so yes she lied to you about her whole background," pulling myself up a sit beside him, now that the dishes are put into the dishwasher, "but to further explain why I also read that she must have gone through hell is because I've read that letter she left you when she left your place."

Heaving a sigh as I realized that is how he must have knew as much as he claimed then he continued.

"Pat, you need to talk with her. The way she wrote it to you, needing to protect you and your family and thanking you for loving her in a way she had never known love before. That tells me that your love means the world to her and it pains her to leave, but knows the consequences if she stays."

Again, another silence between Johnny and I as what he's saying is the truth that I failed to see because I've been consumed with the fact that it felt like everything we had wasn't real. This new silence got cut short to his cell phone ringing. Only taking a quick glance at the screen, he answers before it rings for a third time.

"Hello. Yeah he's here."

I shake my head no and throw my hands up, refusing to take the phone as he's trying to hand it over to me. Putting his hand over the speaker part of the phone, "Pat, you need to talk with her. She sounds like she hurting just as much as you are."

"Good." came out quicker than I thought.

"Don't take joy in her pain. You're hurting too." 

Still holding out the phone across the table to me, I take it from him, tempted to pressed end and disconnecting the call, but I put the phone to my ear.


Johnny slide back in his chair and walked into the living room so I was able to talk with her alone.

"Yeah. I don't know what else there is to say, especially since you have never actually talked with me about anything."

Hearing her choke back sobs in the background before she speaks again, I cut her off, just as she begins to say something, "When and where?"

Thursday, April 28, 2011

what the fuck did i just get myself into? [-five-]


sunday, december 5, 2010

Cassidy's POV

Feeling a bit of a nip of cold in the air on this early December morning, I reach my hand over to his side of the bed, and I feel nothing but cold sheets. Tossing and turning, I try to ignore the churning and twisting of my stomach, but then with a sudden and strong surge of queasiness it made me bolt to the bathroom.

Just when I think there is nothing left in my stomach to hurl, I always had to run back. Now after what felt like what could have been hours of hanging off that piece of porcelain, I am finally able to pull myself away without running right back. Since I am able to get my head out of the toilet, feeling even more exhausted now then I was when I woke up, I slowly make my way to the sink to brush my teeth and gargle with some scope to get rid of the horrid taste that is left in my mouth. I then get a glance of myself in the mirror and it’s a face I wouldn’t even want to look at. It’s a face of a liar and it’s a face full of shame.

As I grab for the glass on the counter that I’m thinking of throwing at the reflection staring back at me. I resist the urge due to the age old superstition of breaking a mirror brings on of bringing onto yourself bad luck for seven years. Although I've always been a person who doesn't really believe in those sort of things, but considering what kind of ground my relationship is on with Patrick right now, the thought of having seven years bad luck might not be something I want to chance.

Putting the glass back down onto the counter I make my out of the bathroom, grabbing my robe that's hanging off the hook on the bathroom door, remembering that Pat's dad is here, I walk into the hallway. Noticing that condo is dead silent as I continue on to make my way into the kitchen, I take a look up to the clock on the wall behind the dining table to see that Pat should be done practice, but he said that he'd go out to the airport after practice to pick up his mom.

I continue to look around through to the living to see if his father would be in the living room, perhaps reading the newspaper or maybe watching some hockey highlights on the sports channel, but there is no one here but me.

I turn back to the kitchen and grab myself a cup from the cupboard so I could pour myself some orange juice and there I find a post-it note on the cupboard door, written in Patrick’s father’s handwriting.

     Something’s up with Pat.
     I’m off to the airport.
     Pop Kane.

 I began to get this weird feeling as I sat myself down at the kitchen table with my glass of OJ. Not feeling all that hungry, I just sit there, thinking and worrying about everything that happened in the last twenty-four hours.

First Patrick and I getting into a fight yesterday morning, and I leave to go talk with Abby. Later on I come back to the condo to see that Pat’s dad is in town now, but I just head to bed. Then Pat came to be and that’s when I opened up about everything. As I continue thinking about it, it doesn't seem like all that much happened, but yet it feels as though so much has changed now.

As another wave of uneasiness hits at my stomach, I wrap my arms tight around my torso, as I do so I hear this crinkling in one of the pockets of my robe. Reaching a hand into the pocket I pull out a folded piece of paper with my real name written in big red letters.

It is the note that was left behind on my desk when the condo was broken into. I know that I should have destroyed it the moment I realized who it was from, but I knew that I had to keep it as evidence that he hasn’t given up on trying to find me. With some reluctance I open it, quickly scanning over what it says.

Feeling my heart beating so hard in my chest, it feels like I’m in that George Orwell novel, 1984. He knows so much and I don’t know how he could find it all out. I was assured over and over that he would never be able to find me. Although I know that I took a large risk of going to the game in Vancouver. Thinking back to that night I do remember that I did notice a guy that looked an awful lot like him, but I shrugged it off.

But then a flash memory of seeing another guy that also seemed to have a familiar face ran into me when I went for a bathroom break in between periods. The eyes, the smile, the sound of his voice, I could recall it.

At that mere thought it, it sent chills down my spine and I quickly threw the note onto the table in front of me. With the bright red letters facing up, staring up me in the face I realize now that I can’t stay here any longer. Even though I have again another bad feeling that I may be too late, but I just don’t want to feel responsible for getting the people I love getting hurt again. They are really the only family I have in my life now and that's why I know I have to leave it all behind.

Monday, March 21, 2011



I'm sorry I haven't posted anything on this blog yet, but don't fret just yet! I'm in school right now and it's been hectic!

I'm hoping to update this blog by this weekend!! :)