Caged in Winter

by Brighton Walsh

  Despite all my hard work, all my diligence at running from it, at keeping it as far from me as I can, my past caught up to me anyway. I’m turning out to be just like her.

  “Winter.” He gives my hand a quick tug, bringing my focus back to him. “He said it was because you were a few minutes late?”

  I pull my hand out of his grasp and turn away from him, suddenly wishing I hadn’t come here. I should’ve just gone home, started thinking up a plan. I should’ve just handled it instead of unloading my problems on him.

  Cade follows me around, standing in front of me, and when he tips my face up to his, he must see something written in my expression, because his jaw ticks, his shoulders going rigid. “There’s something else, isn’t there? Tell me why he fired you. And don’t bullshit me.”

  When my silence is the only thing that greets him, he curses harshly under his breath. “Why, Winter. Tell me or I’ll go down there and ask him myself.”

  My eyes snap to his as I jab a finger in his chest. “Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare shove your way into this. You cannot go down there, do you understand? Promise me you won’t interfere. This is my life, Cade. Mine. I’ve handled it, and I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “You don’t want to . . .” He trails off and turns in a tight circle, scrubbing his hand over his hair, his jaw clenched. “You don’t want to talk about it? What the hell else should we talk about?”

  “How about the fact that I can’t make rent now? I’m not focusing on what happened, because I can’t. I’m too busy worrying about what’s going to happen. Like me being on the streets because I don’t have a fucking job.”

  He stares at me for a minute, his eyes searching mine, and I can almost see the wheels spinning, trying to come up with a solution to my problems. Trying to fix it. When he finally opens his mouth and speaks, it’s nothing I was expecting, and with his words he tips my whole world on its side. “Move in with me.”

  All the breath leaves my lungs, panic and anxiety rushing in, followed closely by a sliver of excitement . . . of happiness. Before it can grow to something more, my trepidation boils over, extinguishing that tiny sliver that tried to sneak through.

  Fears I’ve had my entire life come rushing forward, radiating from those four little words. And I can’t do this. I can’t depend on him, can’t build my whole life around him. If I do, I’m not just toeing the line of my past, I’m falling headfirst into the history I’m running so hard from.

  Swallowing down the lump in my throat, I say, “I can’t do that.”

  “Why not? You’re talking about losing your apartment, Winter. Are you really that hardheaded that you’d rather live on the streets than accept my help? Why can’t you stay with me?”

  “Why? God, Cade, have you listened to a word I’ve said the entire time we’ve been together? I don’t want or need your goddamn help! I want to do things on my own. I need to.”

  “But you don’t need to! That’s what I’m trying to tell you. If you’d stop being so fucking stubborn all the time and open your eyes, you’d see I’m not trying to rescue you or control your whole life. I’m trying to help you,” he says, his voice rising with every word. “Why can’t you just let me?”

  “You’ve known from the first night we met this is who I am. Stop trying to change me! I want to do things on my own. And you need to back the fuck off. All you do is get into everyone else’s business and try to fix things that aren’t your concern in the first place. Whether you admit it or not, you have a hero complex and you like being the one there to rescue the people in your life. Tessa and Haley and me. Have you ever even stopped to ask if Tessa really wants your help?”

  “Don’t bring Tess into something that’s between us. This is about you and me, Winter, not anyone else. And this doesn’t have anything to do with me wanting to help and everything to do with the walls you’ve built to keep people out. I’ve been fighting every fucking day since the beginning to get in, and I’m starting to wonder why.”

  His harsh words crash into me, penetrating the very walls he spoke of, and I stare at him for a minute, dumbfounded. They’re only words, a handful of mean-spirited words that mean nothing when stacked up against everything else he’s ever said to me, all the words of love he’s showered on me, but that doesn’t matter. Not when I’m teetering on the edge anyway. Not when it’s the same thought that’s haunted me the entire time we’ve been together. Him giving it life solidifies my fears that we were doomed from the start.

  “That’s what I’ve wondered every day since the first, Cade. Why did you even bother?”

  TWENTY-TWO

  cade

  Winter turns and storms out, and I stand there, watching her go. With my hands clasped behind my head, I clench my eyes shut, my muscles coiled and ready to run after her, but I’m rooted in place. “Fuck!”

  I’m furious with her and her refusal to let me help in even the smallest way. Her refusal to see my offer for what it is instead of everything it isn’t. I’m furious with myself for what I said in the heat of the moment. Something I never meant.

  But above all, I’m furious with her boss, who put us in this position in the first place. My anger is building, my temper pushing at me, needing an outlet. Before I can think over what I’m about to do or stop myself, I grab my keys and head out into the night with only one destination in mind. Even though I know I shouldn’t, that she forbade me from going, I can’t help myself. Something’s not right with the scenario, and all the little details of the past few weeks come at me, one after another. The looks her boss has given her, the way he was always watching . . . My gut churns with the possibilities, and I need to find out the truth behind her getting fired.

  Speeding the whole way, I get there before my temper’s abated at all. I push through the front door, scanning the pub for the guy I’ve focused all my anger on. When I don’t see him, I head straight to the bar, spotting Annette mixing drinks. Her eyes go wide when she notices me, then flit over my shoulder and to the back of the restaurant.

  Her voice is tentative, nervous almost, her eyes continually flicking toward the back and where I know his office is. “Hey, honey . . . What can I get ya tonight?”

  “I’m not here for a drink, Annette. What happened tonight with Winter?”

  She glances over my shoulder again, and when she looks back at me, there’s something sparked in her eyes. With a lowered voice, she says, “She was . . . forced to leave.”

  “Yeah, I got that. What I want to know is why.”

  “Look, honey, maybe you should ask her—”

  “Annette.” I lean forward, gripping the edge of the bar. “Why?”

  Her voice drops even lower, the words spilling out of her in a rush. “She was late but he didn’t say anything about it when she first got here, and then at around ten, Randy called her back to his office.” Regret fills her eyes, her head shaking slightly. “If I’d known what he was going to do, I swear, I never would have let her go—”

  “Did he touch her?” My entire body is rigid, my muscles aching from tension, and I don’t even recognize my voice as it rumbles out of me, low and dark and an angry calm.

  “I don’t know all the details—she didn’t tell me exactly what happened—but from what I gathered, he gave her a sort of . . . ultimatum. To be able to keep her job. Nothing happened, though. She left before . . . well, before.”

  Everything makes sense now. How rigid she got when I asked her about it, her vehemence that I not come here, that she’d already handled it. But why did she think she couldn’t tell me? Was she embarrassed about what that fucker did to her? A thousand possibilities fly through my mind, and I need to take a few deep breaths or I will break his fucking face without a second thought. “Where is he?”

  Once again, she looks over his shoulder, and I know when she spots him, because her eyes grow just a bit wider, and she tips her chin in that direction. When I turn around, some creepy asshole is talking to another waitress, his eyes focus
ed on the front of her top. Besides an outline and a vague image of him at the back door of the pub, I’ve never seen him face-to-face. But from the second my eyes land on him, on his slicked-over hair and his crooked teeth as he offers a predatory smile, I know this is the fucker who’s made Winter’s life hell, and I see red. I ignore Annette’s voice behind me, ignore the looks I get as I stalk across the floor to him.

  He doesn’t even glance up until I’m in his space. He’s too busy ogling the girl in front of him, and I want nothing more than to land my fist in his face. Feel the satisfying crunch of his nose under my hand, see the devastation I could do to him. I would do to him.

  Instead I steel myself, taking a deep breath and reminding myself why I can’t do this kind of thing. Why I don’t get into trouble, why it’d be a mistake, all the consequences that would come of it if I beat him to a bloody fucking pulp like I want to.

  When I feel like I’ve got control of myself, I interrupt him, my voice deadly calm. “Are you the piece of shit who owns this place?”

  “Who the fuck—” he starts, turning a glare to me, and then his eyes widen, his words cut off, and I know without a doubt he recognizes me. Glancing over at the waitress still standing next to us, he takes a small step back. Pussy. “Get the hell out of my restaurant. You’re not welcome here.”

  “You think I give two fucks if I’m welcome here? Now I asked you a question.”

  His attempt to stand his ground, to rise to his full height, is lessened by the way he visibly swallows and the slight waver in his voice when he speaks. “Don’t make me call the cops on you.”

  I laugh, crossing my arms against my chest. With a jerk of my chin, I gesture to the door in the middle of the dark hallway behind him. “How about we go in your office. We have some things to talk about.”

  “You’re not coming in my office.”

  Dropping my arms to my side, my hands tighten into fists, and I lean toward him, my voice low. “Okay, let me put it this way. Either we’re walking into your office together, calmly, or I am beating your ass out here in front of all your customers and employees. Your choice.”

  He stares at me for a moment, sizing me up to see how serious I am. I’m not sure what does it—if it’s the tattoos, the metal through my eyebrow, or the fact that I loom over him, but he relents. Finally, he gives a stilted nod and turns to go. I follow behind him quickly, and even before his door shuts behind me, he starts running his mouth.

  “I don’t know what the fuck your little girlfriend told you, but she’s a goddamn liar.”

  I fold my arms across my chest and lean back against the door. My gaze is cool but unrelenting. I’ve dealt with guys like him before. Slimy fuckers who will try to get away with anything until someone bigger than them, stronger than them, comes along and puts a stop to it. Men who think they own the world. Who push their weight around with women, because they’re too chickenshit to do it with other men. And strong women—strong, capable women like Winter and Tessa—get caught in the trap.

  “Look, man, I didn’t even ask her to. She was the one who said it in the first place, so if you want to get pissed at anyone for talking about sucking my dick, it should be her. I was never—”

  I’m on him in a second, his shirt bunched in my fist, his back thrown against the wall, the tips of his cheap shoes barely brushing the ground. “You don’t get to talk anymore, do you understand me? You’re going to shut your fucking mouth and listen.”

  His eyes are wide with fear, his hands gripping my wrists, trying to get purchase, and the sight just fuels me more.

  “You are a piece of shit. A slimy, disgusting, worthless piece of shit excuse for a man. You think it makes you bigger, better, smarter to force your disease-covered dick onto an uninterested woman? What did you tell her when you dragged her in here?” I slam him once against the wall. “And don’t you fucking lie to me.”

  He swallows again, his panicked eyes darting between mine. “I . . . I told her I didn’t want to have to fire her. But I would. If she . . . if she didn’t . . .”

  “Well, don’t stop now. If she didn’t what?”

  “If . . . if she didn’t offer an incentive.”

  “And by incentive, you mean . . .”

  He swallows, his entire body shaking. His voice is low, but the words still cut through me. “Sucking me off.”

  And I swear to Christ, it takes everything in me not to put him on the floor and swing until he’s a motionless pile on his dirty carpet. I pull myself back from the edge of fury, barely. I know this asshole would press charges in a heartbeat if I left him a bloody mess, and I can’t take that chance.

  Faking a calm I don’t feel, I lean close to him, until all he can see is my face. “You don’t get to even fucking think of her like that. Ever. When you have your little fantasies about some girl on her knees in front of you, you think about some other faceless girl, not my girl, am I making myself clear?”

  He gives a jerky nod.

  “Tell me, what’d she do when you told her that? Did she spit in your face? Knee you in the balls? Punch you in the jaw?”

  When he doesn’t respond, I slam him against the wall again, his eyes growing panicked. “N-Nothing. She didn’t do any of that. She just told me to fuck off and left, and that was it.”

  “She was a lot nicer than I’m going to be.” I don’t give him a minute to contemplate that before I pull my right arm back and thrust it straight into his chest, aiming for his solar plexus. He doubles over, gasping for air that’s not there, and it would be so easy. So fucking easy to snap my knee up and catch him in the face, send him to the ground, but I stop myself. I lean over, my mouth by his ear. “You’re going to forget I was here, do you understand? This talk we had? Never happened.” I shove him to the side, and he stumbles to his desk, leaning against it as he tries to catch his breath.

  Fury curls around my shoulders, my body tense and primed, ready for a fight I can’t give it. I walk out of the pub, past the inquiring eyes of everyone, especially Annette, and don’t stop until I’m on my bike, rumbling through the city.

  Where I want to feel relief and justification, satisfaction at giving that asshole everything he deserves, all I feel is regret. He had it coming, without a fucking doubt, but I didn’t stop to think before I went there, didn’t stop to contemplate what would happen after I did this. What Winter will think if she finds out. How absolutely furious she’ll be with me. I didn’t think about any of that, only the fact that someone hurt her, and I needed to do something about it.

  As I speed through the city, the streetlights only a blur, I can’t help but wonder what this will do to our already shaky foundation.

  winter

  Cade’s words echo through my mind as I step into my apartment. My greatest fears spilled from his lips, and I knew it was going to come to this. From the very beginning, I knew it’d come to this. It was only a matter of time before he asked himself why he ever bothered with me.

  I shut the door behind me, the sound jarring in the quiet of the room. The silence has always been a comfort for me, but now I see it for what it is—a completely bare and lonely life—and why did I always think it would be so different? I thought once I got out of California, when I was on my own, everything would be different.

  Getting notification of my partial scholarship here was the best day of my life. For once, I was happy. I’d really and truly be on my own, with no one else to worry about, no one else to depend on. But I didn’t count on how exhausting it is, how utterly taxing it is to be the only one you can rely on. I’m so tired of being on my own. But even with this bone-deep weariness, I couldn’t take Cade up on his offer. He blindsided me, and after having just drawn a parallel from my life to what my mother’s surely was, I couldn’t bear to have another part of me stripped away. Another part of the façade I so carefully built brushed aside because I couldn’t stand on my own two feet. My independence is the only thing I have left, and I’m going to cling to it with everything I ha
ve.

  I drop my bag just inside the door, look over to my fridge and the calendar hanging on it. It’s been five weeks since I’ve marked off a date. I’m not even sure how many days are left until graduation, until I can move on from this place, finally start the life I was supposed to have. Somehow, in the midst of my relationship with Cade, I allowed even the most trivial things to fall by the wayside.

  When my apartment is dark and I’m lying on my shitty futon alone, I wonder if I’ve already started living the life I’m supposed to have. That maybe it started when a too big man forced his way into my life without asking permission. He’s everything I never thought I wanted, but I’m not sure I can imagine my life without him. That makes my heart race, makes my palms sweat, makes my stomach clench up in nerves and anxiety and fear.

  Love has only ever ended in ruins for me.

  I didn’t want this. I never asked for this. I didn’t want this ache in my chest, this constant flutter in my stomach, this perpetual breath holding while I wait for the other shoe to drop. I didn’t want to have to worry about someone else, take someone else into consideration. But I do.

  Cade’s my first thought in the morning, my last thought at night. He’s in every corner of this shitty apartment, taking up too much space in my mind and my body and my heart. And while he’s been filling up my life with his light, I’ve allowed myself to lose sight of what’s important, focused too much on someone else, gotten lost. I let someone get in the way of everything I’ve worked for. I’ve lost myself and it’s exactly what I promised myself I’d never do.

  TWENTY-THREE