Caged Light

by Tom Howard

  “I’m so sorry, your parents must have been devastated.”

  “We were orphaned at the age of seven, it was a car accident on the way to see my grandparents at the cemetery.” Wyatt averted his eyes outside as he fought back a tear. “Mitch and I were in the backseat goofing off, and I guess my dad was paying more attention to us than the road that he didn’t see the red light, and we were hit by a big rig. Our parents were killed instantly, but Mitch and I got lucky and walked away with only a few cuts and scrapes, and a broken arm and leg. We spent a few days in the hospital and were shipped off to a group home. It’s tough on kids, growing up in that environment, the adoption rate for older kids is severely low, everyone wants a baby, not a kid from heartache, let alone two. Neither my brother or I would go without the other, so you can guess how many people were interested in us.”

  “I can only imagine. I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

  “One day I took him to the park to get away from the group home for a little while, I wasn’t sure how much time he had left, so I wanted him to have some fun for a change and not just be cooped up inside or at the hospital. Well, one thing led to another and we got to talking about money and his tumor. There was no way I could come up with the amount needed for his surgery, and the group home was stretched thin enough on money, they couldn’t pay either. And that was when Damon showed up offering his help. He must have been close by eavesdropping. He said he knew some of the best doctors in the world and wanted to pay for Mitch’s operation. Do you have any idea what that’s like for a kid whose nearly lost all hope? I thought God was finally answering my prayers. The only condition was I had to work for Damon. So naturally I jumped at the chance to save my brother. I only wish I had known what I was getting myself into.”

  “Would it have changed your mind.”

  Wyatt thought for a few seconds, looking down at the table, then back to Michelle’s eyes. “I don’t know.”

  “And let me guess, the operation didn’t go so well?”

  “Actually, it was just the opposite, everything went great. After that, he was like a new kid, so full of life.” Wyatt let a half grin slip through. “He had girlfriends, I taught him to fight, I taught him to drive, and things were going great…until,” His jaw clenched as he thought back. “ten years ago, when we were twenty-five, Mitch wrapped his car around a tree, which two days before I told Damon I was done working for him.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Michelle reached over, taking his hands in hers. “Do you think Damon had something to do with the accident?”

  “Probably, but I could never prove anything. When we got to the hospital he was still alive. But the doctor said he developed a blood clot which traveled to his brain and killed him.” Michelle had no idea what to say, there were no words which could express her sorrow. “Two days later, at his funeral, Sergeant Detective Alexandra Castle approached me and told me Mitch’s brake lines had been cut, and instead of arresting me for everything I’d done, she offered me a job. So I became a cop, quickly working my way to detective, and I’ve been trying like hell ever since to bring Damon down. I know how he thinks, I know how he operates, and he’s good. There’s never a trace leading back to him. But I know better, and one day I’m going to smile as I throw him in jail, knowing he’ll never get back out.”

  “Anything I can do to help, just name it.”

  “I think whatever you forgot may be the key, especially if you were an eyewitness to something he was doing, it would explain a lot.”

  The hours passed by relatively uneventful and neither Wyatt nor Michelle wanted to leave the peaceful surrender which surrounded them. They may not have had television, phones, or the internet, but the simplicity of getting back to nature, along with the quietness of the secluded woods, they had everything they needed. Normally, this would be the point when Wyatt would have wanted to play naked twister, but there was something about Michelle which he found pure, and there was no way he was going to rob her of that quality. If he was being honest with himself, although he thought she was stunningly gorgeous, the thought of her as more than a friend never even entered his mind. In fact, he kept his word and not only made dinner for her but had her help in the process as well. Part of the kitchen was covered in food scraps and flour from a food fight which had broken out due to a joke Wyatt made about how Michelle was dicing the peppers, and ended up with them sitting on the floor, leaning against a cabinet, breathless. They were good for each other, exactly what the other needed. Michelle for the way she opened Wyatt up, slowly breaking down his walls, and helped him feel more in the past three days than he had in the past ten years, and Wyatt for the safety and security which came in the form of a true friend, knowing that no matter what, he would do whatever it took to protect her.

  After dinner, they retreated to the living room to discuss a possible plan to bring in Damon and crumble his organization into dust, something which Wyatt had failed to do for nearly a decade. They came up with everything from locating his stash of drugs to Michelle offering to be bait for Damon’s human trafficking organization, but out of everything they came up with, nothing seemed plausible. Damon had eyes everywhere and ears everywhere else. There was no way either of them could slip into any part of Damon’s world undetected. And a full-on frontal assault would only end in their deaths.

  Regardless of how long she had slept the day before, as the cloak of night covered the world, Michelle could feel her eyes beginning to droop. So, with a yawn and a stretch, she decided to head up stairs and take a shower. It had been a relatively uneventful day except for the food fight while making dinner and getting cleaned up didn’t sound like a bad idea. Flour, like sand, will find its way into every crack and crevice, given the chance.

  “Hang on a sec, I’ll show you how to work the shower. It can be finicky at times.” Wyatt said as he skipped every other step to meet her atop the loft. Michelle smiled as his caring instinct shown through. Walking inside the bathroom, which continued the theme of log walls, except for the tub, Michelle was impressed by the size, it was about as big as her room…minus the closet. Wyatt turned the oblong handle, but no water came out until he hit the wall next to the faucet. “Just be careful, it’ll go from ice cold to lobster hot in about fifteen seconds.”

  Michelle grinned as she tucked her hair behind her ear. “Thank you…and I don’t just mean for today. Ever since you found me, you’ve been nothing but wonderful.”

  “Like I said,” Wyatt smirked. “it’s what I do.”

  “No,” Michelle replied with a slight shake of her head. “a job is something you do.” She put her hand on his heart as she stepped closer to him. “This is who you are. And it means more to me than you’ll ever know.”

  The two shared a lingering glance as Michelle felt Wyatt’s heart beating in time with her own, quickening as the seconds passed. Their eyes looked deep into one another’s soul as they felt a fire slowly on the rise. It was the first real moment they were able to steal in which the entire world came to a complete stop. Softly, Wyatt reached up and rubbed her hand with his, taking it from his chest, caressing the back of it with his thumb. It was then he began to see the angel in front of him in a new light. He studied every inch of her beautiful face, right down to the small line of freckles by her hairline. Reaching up, Wyatt stroked her cheek with gentle affection, and watched as she closed her eyes, softly nuzzling into his touch. I could get used to this, she thought, as she was beginning to feel a weakness for him. With embers quickly igniting into a fire, Wyatt had only felt this way one other time in his entire life and began to feel nervous. Ever so softly, Wyatt kissed Michelle’s hand. “I better let you get a shower.” He said with a grin. Michelle nodded and for a brief second considered asking him to stay. But before she could get a word out, Wyatt left, closing the door behind him.

  He walked away shaking his head wondering what he was thinking. She wasn’t a date, she was a woman in trouble, needing his help, not his body. However, putting the feelin
gs aside didn’t stop the fact they were still there, lingering. Being around Michelle was suddenly bringing up buried feelings he thought had been left in the past. As he walked by the third bedroom, which he had converted into a den and music room, he stopped in the doorway. The room was one Wyatt hadn’t been inside of in a long time, and as he looked around at the lonely stool in front of a music stand which held on it a song he’d written years before, he wondered what it would feel like to hold his guitar once more.

  Moonlight filled the room, and there in the corner, under several layers of dust sat his Gibson 1937 SJ-200, one of the best acoustic guitars ever made. The sound was amazing. And though it normally retailed for around $100,000, it was gifted to him by his father, who claimed he got it from Johnny Cash. It wasn’t until he saw the signature on the back that he actually believed him. When he was a young boy he used to imagine he and Johnny sitting in a studio recording together, strumming along to a song they had written. Wyatt’s dad saw a great amount of talent in his son and would tell him one day he would follow his dreams and they would take him on a wonderful adventure. As he walked into the room, turning on the light, Wyatt picked up the guitar and blew off the dust. It felt good in his hands, almost like he had never put it down. Back in the day, that old guitar was his best friend. And working for Damon, was it any wonder he had few friends? Most of them usually ended up six feet under. And when Wyatt laid his Guitar to rest, after writing his final song, he swore that would be the last time he let himself feel sadness.

  But everyone knows, in order to move on from the past, you can’t run from it, you have to turn and face it head on. Sitting on the stool, Wyatt propped his foot on one of the rungs, and rested the guitar on his knee. He knew the song which he had written, and though it sat on the stand in front of him, he didn’t even need to look at it to recall the lyrics or chords. It was called “Thinking about you”, a heart break song about the one who got away. A song which talked about good things coming to an ending so one person could search for what they’d been missing. But when the road became too long, no matter what was going on, if a thought or feeling hit her out of the blue, it was him, thinking about her. And as he sang the words, thoughts and feelings he’d buried deep down, came flooding back to the surface like a tidal wave of emotion consuming him down to his soul. He remembered the good times they shared, but quickly flashed to her face as she walked out of his door. The heartache written all over her face when she realized she was never going to have the life she’d wanted. It didn’t matter how much love they shared, it all came down to the fact she thought Wyatt was never going to change. The words he sang emanated from his heart, and he hoped one way or another, somewhere she was being reminded of him too.

  When Wyatt finally opened his eyes, he saw Michelle, dressed only in a towel, resting her chest on the outer doorframe. Although no tears fell, Michelle could see the sorrow which filled his eyes. It was a part of him she hadn’t yet seen, even as he spoke of his brother, and she knew there was a much softer side of him buried deep under the layers of rough exterior and warrior’s heart.

  “How long have you been there?”

  “Long enough.” Michelle replied as curiosity overcame her. “That was beautiful. Was it about anyone in particular?”

  Wyatt instantly saw her face in Michelle. “Yeah…she looked a lot like you.” His voice was soft. “We were so in love.”

  “How’d you meet?”

  “I was doing a gig at a small bar on the edge of town. It was the usual smoky atmosphere with a hint of alcohol lingering underneath. I’d played there before, mostly it was just for my own enjoyment. I could look out and see people out on the floor, dancing under the lights, but there was one night, when I looked and saw this one girl, God she was pretty, just swaying back and forth to one of my songs. Afterwards, she came up to me and asked if she could buy me a drink. But I told her where I come from a gentleman never lets the lady pay. When she smiled, my heart melted, and it was the first time in as long as I could remember I almost forgot how to talk. I had never met a woman who could just look at me and instantly draw me in, I never wanted to leave. We ended up dancing the night away, and as I was holding her close, it was like someone turned the neon lights into moon-glow. I was falling so fast it was like I was an out of control car and the brake lines were cut.”

  “What happened?”

  Wyatt stared into nothingness. “We had two years together, two good years. The only problem was I had to leave a lot and couldn’t tell her why. She knew I wasn’t cheating, but…a woman can tell when you’re hiding the truth. I kept telling her it was for her own protection. I knew if Damon found out about her, he would have killed her to keep me in line. And one night she and I had an argument. She wasn’t happy anymore and wanted more from me. It turns out you can’t tell more than one person you’ll be there for them no matter what. So, she left…and I haven’t heard from her since.”

  “I’m so sorry that happened.” Michelle said as she walked over to him, resting her hand on his shoulder.

  His eyes made their way to hers. “And when I looked at you just a few minutes ago, I felt like I was with her again, and realized how easy it would be to fall.”

  Michelle knew exactly what he meant. She found herself feeling the exact same way. “I promise I’ll be there to catch you.” She whispered.

  Their gaze into one another’s eyes slowly brought them closer and closer until finally their lips touched. Wyatt had forgotten how good that feeling truly was. He’d had other “relationships” in the past years, but until right then with Michelle, none aside from Aimee could ever compare. He wrapped his arms around her waist as hers rested atop his shoulders, gently running her fingers through his long brown hair. He clenched his hand around the towel, ready to pull it off and whisk her away to a night of romance she’d never forget. But just then, in the midst of everything, Wyatt stopped and pulled back.

  “What’s the matter?” Michelle asked, wanting to see where the kissing would lead. “Did I do something wrong?”

  Wyatt shook his head only slightly. “There wasn’t anything wrong about that.” He added with a grin. “It’s just…”

  “Just what?”

  Wyatt’s eyes met Michelle’s once more. “We don’t know if you have anyone waiting for you. And if this would have gone where it was about to, and you remembered you were engaged or married, I wouldn’t want you to hate me for not stopping…and I really wouldn’t want you to hate yourself.”

  Michelle bit her bottom lip as a half grin got through. Her hands still in his hair, she ran her fingers through. “You’re a good man, you know?”

  “Believe me, right now I wish I weren’t.”

  “No, I mean it, here we are, in the middle of the woods, alone in a romantic cabin, you have total advantage, and you stop because you’re concerned about my feelings.”

  “You know, now that you put it that way…”

  “I think it’s sweet.” Michelle smiled. “Shows you’ve got a good heart. Those are rare to come by these days.” She gave Wyatt’s hair a slight tug and grinned as she began to walk toward the door. “I’m just sorry we’re not finishing…something tells me it would’ve been fun.”

  “I got the same feeling.” He said just above a whisper. He hated to see her go but loved watching her leave. Even though he stopped what would have inevitably been a memorable night, a small part of him was still hoping she’d drop the towel as she left the room.

  Later that night, as she lay in peaceful slumber, Michelle was suddenly awoken by a noise coming from the foot of her bed, a loud, rapid, tapping sound which nearly sounded as though it were someone pounding on the glass of the window. She sat up long enough to see it was a tree branch Wyatt must have missed while he was making his tunnel. There wasn’t really much she could do about it except hope the wind blew a different direction. The moon was shining brightly through the window with not a cloud in sight. The soft light accented the room well, providing just the r
ight amount of illumination to be comfortable – not overbearing at all. She couldn’t help but wonder what was out there waiting for her. What was it she was missing? And the more she looked through the trees, the more she appreciated God’s beautiful creation. She may not have remembered much, but her faith in her creator was definitely beginning to resurface.

  With a smile on her face, she returned her head to the pillow, but as she was about to close her eyes, she saw movement coming from the darkened corner across the room. She stared as the shadows swayed from side to side, and with curiosity, she got up to investigate. Her brow furrowed the closer she came, and it wasn’t long before she realized what she was seeing was a child sitting, balled up, on the floor, facing the corner, rocking back and forth. It sounded like she was crying. They had been in the house all day so Michelle knew no one could come or go without either herself or Wyatt having seen something. The girl had mangled jet-black hair and wore what looked like a tattered grey dress. As Michelle approached, she could see a strange mark on her neck, almost as though she had been cut open and sewn back together with dark yarn. “He…hel…hello?” She said just above a whisper as she reached toward the little one. Michelle’s heart pounded and a lump built in her throat as she touched the girl on the shoulder. She felt nothing but scarred skin and bone and with a gasp, quickly jerked back.

  The girl slowly turned around as she stood up and Michelle was suddenly overcome with fear. Her safe haven had rapidly become a haunted nightmare. There standing before her was the dead girl. Not only were her eyes dark sockets, but her mouth was also sewn shut, and she was crying tears of blood. Her bony, claw like arms outstretched toward Michelle as she rigidly moved forward. Michelle was backing toward the bed, and was about to run for the door, when suddenly she heard it slowly creek open and when she looked, in walked the man from Wyatt’s nightmare, the zombie-like man walked in, heading right for her. Half of his face was covered in blood, while the other half was mangled and cut up. He was missing an eye, completely exposing the socket, his nose was cut down to the bone, and part of his lips and cheek were missing, exposing chipped and jagged teeth. Michelle wanted to yell, but the more she tried, the more she felt her throat closing up. She could barely even whisper.