Songbird Caged

by Lisa Edward

  He hit me a couple of times, and I fought back—you would have been proud of me, I stayed calm before he finally knocked me unconscious, and dragged me into the bushes along the edge of the car park. That’s how my wrist got broken.

  If it hadn’t been for Cole coming out and fighting with him, he would have raped me.

  Cole saved me. He called the ambulance, and sat with me all night in the hospital. You should be thanking him, instead of putting him down all the time.

  I don’t want you to worry. Apart from the broken wrist, a black eye, and some bruising, I’m fine. The police know it was Patrick, and they are looking for him. Until they find him, I’ll be staying at Cole’s apartment. Cole is going away tomorrow with his family for a couple of weeks, so he won’t be there—so you don’t need to worry.

  I know you probably don’t like the idea, but it’s a security building with a doorman, and you have to use a swipe card to get up to his floor in the elevator. I will be perfectly safe there, and right now, while Patrick is still on the loose, that’s what I need.

  I’m not telling you all this to upset you, but I thought you should know. You wanted open lines of communication between us, so that has to be for the bad news as well as the good news. The police know about Patrick’s history of violence against Rebecca, but coming from me, it’s only hearsay. They said if you could testify (come home?) then that would really help. If you can’t, at least a statutory declaration of what you have seen him do in the past will go a long way to show his character, and prove that this was not a spur of the moment once-off attack.

  Anyway, that’s all my news for now. I know it’s not good, but that’s my life at the moment.

  In light of what has happened, is there any chance the army would let you come home? Even just for a quick visit? I really miss you, Riley. I really need you here with me to get through this. Can you ask if you can leave—extenuating circumstances, or something?

  I know you’re overseas fighting the good fight, but I feel like I’m fighting my own fight right here. I could really do with your help. If you came home, we could stay at my place, because I would feel safe again, or we could go to your place in Sydney. As long as you were here with me I know I would be okay, I could get through this.

  I’ll leave it with you to sort out.

  Take care and I hope to see you soon. I love you. No matter what happens, please always remember that.

  Your Fox (battered and bruised, but still smiling).

  xoxoxoxo

  I looked up at Kelli and shrugged. That was as good as it was going to get right now. No hearts and roses was right. I couldn’t have mustered any even I’d wanted to. It just wasn’t in me right now.

  “You were right,” she said as she patted my hand. “We’ve all been pretty tough on Cole. You were the only one who didn’t think he was just trying to sleaze on you.” She gave me an apologetic smile. “He really does care about you, and I know you care about him.”

  I went to open my mouth. I felt like I always had to defend my friendship with Cole against the people who thought there was more going on than what there really was.

  She held up her hand to stop me. “I know nothing’s happened yet because you’re with Riley, but don’t let the fact that he’s overseas stop you from living your life the way you want to.”

  COLE DOTED on me like I was an invalid, and I let him.

  He set me up in his room, because the shower was easier to get in and out of, and big enough to fit a chair in if I needed it. It was like a cave with all four walls tiled, except for an open doorway at one end. The floor of the shower was a continuation of the tiled floor so you didn’t have to step over anything, you could just walk straight in. It also had two showerheads: one in the ceiling that was enormous, and felt like you were standing in the rain. The other was on a pole, and was adjustable in height, and you could lift it off to make it handheld.

  He found my pyjamas, and helped me as much as possible before turning his back respectfully so I could finish getting changed.

  He brought me my phone, my laptop and a drink.

  I lay propped up in bed, and watched with apprehension as he finished packing shorts and T-shirts, as well as two suits, a couple of shirts and ties, and then zipped up his suitcase.

  “Where are you going on your holiday?” I asked, trying to sound conversational.

  He came and lay down beside me on the bed with his arm bent under his head as a pillow. I struggled to roll onto my side so I could face him. My body was aching from head to toe, and I was still trying to manage to do anything without using my left hand.

  Cole noticed me struggling, and leant up on his elbow so he could look down at me to meet my eyes instead.

  “I’m going to Hawaii,” he said, frowning at his hand as he picked at a thread on the quilt. “I don’t want to go, I should really be here to look after you, but we’ve been going with the Harrington’s since I was a little kid.” He looked up at me from under his furrowed brow.

  “The Harrington’s as in Prudence Harrington, and her parents?”

  He nodded uncomfortably. “Do you know her? I didn’t think you socialised in that circle?”

  “I don’t—anymore. I went to a couple of her birthday parties when I was a little kid. We’re the same age; her birthday is exactly one week before mine. I haven’t seen her in about ten years, though.” I shrugged. “I never liked her much.”

  I really didn’t like Prudence Harrington. She was the epitome of everything I hated about my mother’s social circle and their kids. She thrived on the gossip, the money, and trying to outdo everyone else. Even as a ten year-old she had been stuck up and spoilt.

  Cole looked at me with a smirk. “Prue’s okay, she just takes a bit of getting used to.”

  “Well I guess you’ve spent enough time with her over the years to get used to her. Enough, at least to call her Prue. She used to hate being called that.”

  “She still does. Only her family and people who are close to her call her Prue, and get away with it.” He was fiddling with that thread again on the quilt.

  Now I was looking away. I knew what this family holiday, and all the ones that had preceded it meant. My mother had tried to set up the same deal when I was little. The Worthington family had a son, Spencer, who was a couple of years older than me. We used to go on family vacations a couple of times a year, and have dinner parties with them, in the hope that when we were older we would marry and join the families and the wealth.

  “It’s her birthday next week.” He looked at me apologetically. “Which means it’s your birthday the week after, while I’m away.” He reached over, and brushed my grubby hair off my face. “I’m sorry, babe, I didn’t know it was your birthday.”

  I shrugged again. “No biggie, I’ll just be here.” I gave him a cheeky smile. “I might throw a big party for my twenty-fifth while you’re away. You don’t mind, do you? I’ll just put out an open invitation on Facebook.”

  He closed his eyes for a second. “Fuck, your twenty-fifth.” He looked at me with sad eyes. “It’s a big one, I’m so sorry I won’t be here. There’s no way I can get out of it. I’ve tried before, and my mum’s threatened to disinherit me if I don’t go.” He gave a little laugh, but I could tell from his soulful emerald eyes that he was serious. He edged closer, and leaned in to kiss my bruised jaw.

  I looked him dead in the eye. “So, when’s the wedding?”

  He flinched. His lip twitched, before he finally answered. “I’ve told my mum I’m not marrying Prue, no matter how hard she tries to push.” He shook his head. “There’s not going to be a wedding.”

  So I was right, this was a long-term plan to join the families. At least, as far as his mother was concerned.

  “How did you know?” he asked.

  “My mother tried to do the same thing when I was a kid. We used to take family holidays with the Worthington family, in the hope that Spencer and I would hit it off.”

  He sat up abruptly,
onto his knees. “Spencer fucking Worthington? Thank God that didn’t work. He’s the biggest asshole on the face of the planet.”

  “So you know him, do you?” I asked sarcastically, surprised by the venom in his tone.

  “I went to school with him. So what happened with you and dickhead?”

  I felt like I needed to sit up because he was sitting up, his brow furrowed as he leaned forward waiting for me to speak. I strained to push myself up with my right hand. My ribs hurt, and I wondered how long it would take before I could just sit up using my abdominal muscles. So many things we do are taken for granted until we can’t do them anymore.

  Cole held out his hand so I could use it for support. I could feel him watching me with that sorrowful look, and I refused to allow him to view me as a victim.

  I was a survivor.

  “Thanks, I can manage,” I told him, as I pushed through the pain to sit beside him.

  “So, what happened with Spencer, Tara?” he asked again, concern in his voice.

  That was a very good question, and to be honest, I didn’t have a good answer.

  “I don’t know, really. We dated the way that kids in their early teens date, then I had my debutante ball, and he was my partner. I remember it was a couple of weeks before my sixteenth birthday, and I was supposed to be sixteen to debut, but my mother pulled some strings. She didn’t want me to have to wait until I was nearly seventeen. We went back to Spencer’s house for the after party, and then things get fuzzy. I can’t remember what happened after that.”

  I looked up at Cole briefly. He had his hand over his mouth, and his eyes were wide open as he watched me fumble for answers. Even now I still couldn’t piece together the events of the night, although I know what Spencer had told everyone.

  “Spencer told everyone that we had sex that night, but I … I don’t remember anything. I just remember waking up at home the next day feeling really groggy and sick. After that, my mother stopped inviting him over, and we stopped going on holidays with them.”

  I looked to the ceiling trying to make some sense of what had happened. “If I’d had sex that night, I would have known. I mean, I was a virgin so I would have been sore or something, right?”

  I looked back at Cole. I could see his jaw clenching, his hands now balled into fists.

  “I know exactly what happened,” he said, his deep husky voice cracking with anger. “I was there that night.”

  “What?” I asked stunned. I couldn’t believe that, after all this time, I may finally be able to get to the bottom of what had actually happened.

  “I was supposed to partner Prue, but I’d been injured playing football and had two black eyes. I still went to the after-party, though,” he said with a half-grin. “How could I miss a party with a bunch of smashed sixteen-year-old girls?”

  I rolled my eyes. Yes, that sounded like Cole. I urged him to go on with the story.

  “I’d noticed you at rehearsals a few weeks before. You carried yourself with such poise and grace—not the learned poise of the other girls, yours was natural. It came from within. I remember wishing I could swap partners with Spencer, because Prue kept standing on my toes when we danced.”

  I laughed, then flinched and lifted my hand to my lip as the split pulled and opened again.

  “Anyway, I saw Spencer and his mates in the kitchen at his house. They were mixing drinks, and they put something in the glasses before they brought them in to you and a couple of other girls.”

  “They drugged us?” I couldn’t believe they would do something like that.

  He nodded slowly. “I lost sight of you for a few minutes; Prue dragged me over to meet someone or other, I can’t remember who it was now. When I could get away from her, I went searching for you, then Spencer came running downstairs, all pleased with himself and bragging to his mates.”

  “So we did—have sex?” Tears stung my eyes. If we did, then it wasn’t consensual.

  He reached out and held my hand, squeezing it tight. “No, you didn’t. I thought I was too late, but when I went to find you, I found you still dressed and passed out on the bed. I think he’d given you too much of whatever it was, and you were out cold.”

  “So what did you do?” I was squeezing his hand now. I really needed to know.

  “I called my car service, then waited with you until the driver arrived. He checked your ID, and took you home.”

  I was really crying now, but they were happy tears, tears of relief. Cole had saved me, not only the night before from Patrick, but nine years ago from Spencer. I threw my arms around his neck, ignoring the pain and the unfamiliar weight of the plaster cast.

  “Thank you so much, Cole.”

  I couldn’t get close enough from this angle, so I climbed onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around me tentatively, unsure of where I was bruised and sore.

  “You can hug me, you know, I won’t break.”

  He squeezed me tighter, burying his face in my hair.

  “I can’t believe you’ve saved me twice. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” I sniffled.

  “I didn’t put two and two together until now. You looked different back then, just a skinny kid with long, straight hair. You didn’t have all the curves you have now.”

  He looked at my boobs, and I felt strangely relieved. Maybe we could get past this, and he would see me as a woman again who may still have a little mystery to reveal.

  “As soon as you said you were Spencer’s partner, it all fell into place.”

  “You know, after that night I was so embarrassed and ashamed. He told all our friends we’d had sex, and then he told them that he dumped me. I couldn’t face them. That’s why I stopped going to the functions and parties. I felt like a social leper.”

  Cole jumped into bed beside me, and turned on the flat screen television that was mounted on the wall in his room. We cuddled up, and I dozed on and off, feeling safe and warm next to him. I finally had answers to what had happened all those years ago, and I had Cole to thank for it.

  If I ever saw Spencer Worthington again, he’d better run—fast.

  “Can I sleep in here tonight?” That deep gravelly voice whispered in my ear.

  I’d been dozing, and tried to open my good eye to check the time. It was just after eleven pm. I nodded, and snuggled closer into Cole, making him chuckle. The television was still on with the volume turned to low. I could see light and shadows dancing over Cole’s face as he looked down at me, a small smile dancing at the side of his mouth.

  He reached over to the remote and flicked the television off, plunging the room into darkness, and silence. He settled into the quilt, wrapping me tightly in his big secure arms, and sighed.

  “So this is what it feels like,” he murmured, rubbing his cheek against my hair.

  “What feels like?” I asked sleepily.

  “To be with someone you care about. Someone you would do anything for, who you would take a bullet for. I can’t believe I nearly lost you last night. I thought … I thought I had lost you.”

  I could hear his voice growing thick with emotion as he spoke. He lifted his hand, and quickly wiped his eyes.

  He kissed my head. “Is this how it feels when you’re with Riley?”

  I nodded. It was how I felt when I was with Riley, but it was also how I felt when I was with Cole. But what did that mean? Was I less in love with Riley, or falling more in love with Cole?

  “It’s that warm, fuzzy feeling you get when you’re with someone special,” I told him. “Makes all the shit that’s happened just fade away.”

  “Baby, I have to go in a minute.”

  Cole was crouched down by the side of the bed so he could look me in the eye. I knew he had booked a car to pick him up and take him to the airport at six am. I squinted at the clock: 5:52am.

  “Have a good time with your future bride,” I teased, trying to sound light-hearted, but the thought of Prudence and Cole together made me feel ill.

  He ran the back of one fi
nger down the length of my arm. “She is not my future bride.”

  The tone of his voice made me open my good eye wide to really look at him. He was watching my face, searching for the recognition that I understood what he was trying to tell me.

  He kept stroking my arm, up and down. “She’s not the one I want to spend all my time with.”

  Now I knew he was talking about me. I smiled. My lip didn’t split again. It must be healing.

  He continued lightly running his finger down my arm. “She’s not the one that when I think of touching her, it makes my body ache.” I saw his chest rise and fall heavily as he spoke. I knew he was thinking about touching me right now.

  He leaned forward and kissed me softly on the cheek, then a lingering kiss on my shoulder, making my skin ignite. His words were making my body ache. I could feel my heart rate increasing at the thought of him touching me.

  “If she tries to stop you from seeing me, there’ll be a fight to the death,” I said seriously. There was no way I was giving him up.

  He chuckled, obviously pleased that I was willing to fight for him. “It won’t come to that. She doesn’t even really know me. She just knows the Victor side of me, she’s never seen the real me, the Cole side.” He stroked my cheek. “You’re the only one who knows me—all of me. You’re the only one who could also live with one foot in each world the way I do.”

  I thought about his words for a moment. The Cole side was the real him. It was who he was behind closed doors. Victor was just who he had to appear to be for special occasions with his family.

  If he were forced to marry her, what would happen to Cole? He would have to live his entire life as Victor. There would be no more singing with The Sons, no more hanging out with our friends at Songbirds. I looked into his knowing eyes. He could see what I was thinking.

  “It would kill me to have to give up everything I truly love, to be someone I’m not.” He shook his head. “I can’t do it, no matter what the consequences.”