Songbird Caged

by Lisa Edward

  He cocked his head to one side. “What would you do if Riley tried to stop us from seeing each other?”

  I lifted my plastered hand, and gently stroked his cheek with my fingertips. “I’d fight him to the death, too.”

  The intercom buzzed, telling us that the car had arrived. Cole quickly ran through the food that he’d bought for me. There were microwave dinners, and soups that required minimal effort to prepare so I could manage them with one hand.

  He told me he would call every day to check on me. I told him not to worry about it. I would get someone to come over if I needed anything.

  “I’ll still call. I’ll need a sanity check, surrounded by my family, Prue, and her family.”

  He kissed my head again, and stood by the side of the bed. “See you in two weeks, okay.”

  I tried to smile. “Have fun.”

  “Doubtful.”

  He walked to the door. “Remember, if you need me for anything, just call.” He gave me a wink. “No matter where I am or what I’m doing, I’ll drop everything.”

  Was he seriously saying he’d fly back from Hawaii if I asked him to? I was just contemplating the generosity in his heart, when the look in his eyes changed.

  “I love you,” he said, with so much sincerity, I stopped breathing for a moment.

  “As a friend, right?” I added. Tears pricked my eyes.

  He shook his head. “Nah, not as a friend. I just love you.” He blew me a kiss, and left.

  “I love you, too,” I whispered to the empty room.

  If Prue tried to come between us, there would be bloodshed.

  I SPENT the next goodness-knows-how-long in oblivion.

  After Cole left, I shuffled out to the kitchen to find something that I could eat that was easy to make, and wouldn’t hurt to chew, as my teeth and mouth were still sore. I couldn’t find anything I felt like, so I poured myself a big glass of cold milk instead.

  I carried the glass over to the huge floor-to-ceiling window that looked out over the beach and ocean below. I could see people running with their dogs, and girls rollerblading along the boardwalk. There were even a few brave swimmers in wetsuits body-surfing.

  I looked at my surroundings. There was everything you could wish for up here in the penthouse. Every luxury had been incorporated in the design. But I wanted to be down there. I suddenly felt very trapped, like a bird in a gilded cage.

  Sitting on the edge of the couch, I looked around, and then looked down at my legs. The scratches and grazes were already starting to scab over. I usually healed pretty fast, but they were more bruised today than they were yesterday.

  I suddenly felt very tired and overwhelmed. I’d managed to make light of everything that had happened as if it were no big deal, but now that I was alone, the severity of the situation and what had almost happened hit home like a baseball bat to the gut.

  Doubled over, trying to catch my breath, I opened my mouth to cry but no sound came out. I was gasping for air as the tears flooded my battered and bruised face.

  I curled up on the couch, unable to move. The only sound in the apartment was the racking sobs that had finally started, and now wouldn’t stop.

  There was a buzz on the intercom, telling me that someone was visiting, but I couldn’t get up to answer it. I was immobilized by fear and pain, and an overwhelming black hole of despair.

  At some stage during the day, or it may have been the day after, I dragged myself back into the bedroom and stayed there. Locking the door for added security, I only ventured as far as the bathroom when I had to, and every other day to the kitchen, when I remembered that I needed food.

  “Hey beautiful girl, it’s me, I’m home.”

  I opened my eyes to the voice that I had come to rely on. Cole was crouched down by the side of the bed again, concern furrowing his brow.

  “Has it been two weeks, already?” I asked weakly.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I ate anything, but my throat felt like sandpaper when I spoke. That surprised me.

  His eyes brimmed with tears. “No, babe, I came home early.” He stroked my forehead with his thumb. “When you didn’t answer any of my calls, I got really worried. I called Jay and Marcus. They said you weren’t letting anyone in to check on you.” He lifted my hand, and kissed each finger tenderly. “I should never have left you. You put on such a brave face all the time, but you’re so fragile.”

  He wiped a tear from my cheek that I didn’t realise had fallen, and looked at me, really looked at me. “You don’t look like you’ve eaten anything since I left. I’m going to get you something to eat and drink, okay?”

  He raced out of the bedroom, and was back ten minutes later with a steaming bowl of thick vegetable soup and some crusty bread on a tray. He helped me sit up. I felt dizzy as the blood rushed from my head, and I had to steady myself and close my eyes for a moment.

  I managed to feed myself as Cole watched every mouthful intently, until the tray was empty. Once I’d eaten I started to feel a bit better, so Cole helped me get up.

  I hadn’t taken a shower for a few days. It had all seemed too hard with the plaster on my wrist, and every time I got up it felt as if the room was spinning. Cole just shook his head and ran me a bath, filling it with near boiling water and silken bath oils that he had bought for me the last time I’d stayed.

  Why hadn’t I thought to take a bath instead of struggling in the shower? I could have managed that by myself, but the thought had just never occurred to me.

  Cole helped put my hair up in a messy bun, which made me laugh for the first time in nearly a week. He was certainly no hairdresser, and I teased him that Jason’s job was safe as he tried to pin loose curls up on top of my head. I watched his reflection in the mirror with a grin. The concentration on his face was something you would expect from a cardiac surgeon.

  His eyes flicked up to meet mine in the mirror, and he stopped what he was doing, beaming at me. “It’s good to see you smile again, babe.”

  My hair looked like it had been done by a six year-old, and I burst out laughing at my reflection.

  “What?” Cole asked, still smiling at me. “You could wear this to a ball. It’s a work of art.”

  I soaked in the tub with my hand hanging out over the side. The hot water was doing wonders for my sore limbs, and I was starting to feel like my old self again. The black hole that I had fallen into was disappearing as I closed my eyes, and listened to Cole’s deep soothing voice tell me about his five days in Hawaii.

  I felt so much better as I dressed in clean clothes, but my hair was still dirty and in need of a good wash and treatment.

  “Okay, let’s go,” Cole said, grabbing his car keys.

  “No. I can’t go out looking like this,” I replied, horrified at the thought of being seen with dirty, greasy hair.

  “We’re going to see Jason so he can do your hair for you.”

  “You deserve a good spanking, Little Miss.” Jason chastised me as soon as I walked through the doorway of the salon, before throwing his arms around me in a tight embrace.

  “I agree, and I’m more than happy to administer the spanking.”

  I spun around to look at Cole, and he gave me a cheeky wink before raising his hand and playfully slapping me on the backside.

  “You told the doorman you didn’t want to be disturbed. We were all so worried.”

  Had I? I couldn’t even remember speaking to Phil the doorman, but then, I couldn’t recall much of the last few days.

  I hugged him back, and apologised about a dozen times for worrying everyone. It was selfish of me to want to close myself off. I should have known my friends would be concerned.

  Cole decided I was in very capable hands, so would make a quick trip to the grocery store while Jason washed my hair, taking special care not to wet the dressing on my head.

  “Is there anything you need?” he asked, making a mental list of things to buy.

  I shook my head. “The only thing I really need i
s new underwear, but I’ll have to shop for that myself.”

  I was down to only two or three pairs, and one bra, after Patrick’s break in. I had given all my beautiful, expensive lingerie to the police as evidence. What they did with it after that I had no idea, I just knew that I didn’t want it back.

  Cole was halfway to the door when he turned around, and strode back over to us with a huge grin on his face. “Do you have a current passport?” he asked, his emerald eyes gleaming.

  “Yes, of course,” I answered, confused as to why I would need a passport to buy lingerie.

  “Good, change of plans. I’m taking you to Paris.”

  “What?” Jason and I squealed in unison.

  “You need underwear, and what better place to buy beautiful lingerie than Paris?” He gave me a quick peck on the cheek. “I’ll look after everything. I’ll book the flights, and clear it with the police.” Then he raced out the door.

  Jason was jumping up and down, flapping his hands in the air behind me animatedly. Anyone would think he was coming with us he was so excited.

  “I want a boyfriend like that one day,” he said dreamily. “He doesn’t have a gay brother by any chance, does he?”

  I laughed. “No, sorry, he’s an only child.”

  “That’s because when they made that one, they broke the mould.”

  We boarded the plane first, as you do when you’re travelling in first class, and buckled in. I couldn’t believe the whirlwind of the last twenty-four hours since Cole had come home. It never ceased to amaze me how just knowing he was nearby could instil a sense of peace and safety within me. I’d been a total mess while he was away, and I was glad he hadn’t been around to see it. Although, having said that, maybe I wouldn’t have been the mess I was if he had been home.

  I’d bought some fantastic concealer at the makeup counter at the airport, and slapped enough on to look almost back to normal. The purple and blue bruising had changed to yellow and green over the course of the week, the swelling around my eye had gone down, and my split lip was healed. If you didn’t look too closely, you wouldn’t be able to see that anything had happened only the week before.

  I looked down at my beautifully French-manicured fingernails. I knew my hair was cut and styled in soft curls around my face, strategically hiding the dressing at my hairline above my left eye, that was almost due to come off. I sent Jason a big warm hug and thank-you for his part in making me feel like my old self again.

  The captain welcomed us aboard, and I watched as the stewardess showed us how to buckle our seatbelts and where the exits were. She seemed overly interested in Cole, her eyes darting in his direction every few seconds while he seemed to be trying extraordinarily hard not to look at her.

  I knew there was something going on. Cole always tried to avoid eye contact with girls he had slept with when I was around, in the hope that I wouldn’t notice.

  “Aren’t you watching the safety demonstration, babe?” I asked casually. “It’s really important that you know what to do in case of emergency.”

  He shook his head, and pulled the emergency instruction card out of the pocket on the side of his seat. He held it up over his face, blocking the stewardess’s view of him.

  I hooked my finger over the top of it, and pulled it down. “I think she’s already seen you, and it’s going to be really hard to avoid her for the next twenty-four hours. Nowhere to hide up here.”

  He looked at me sheepishly. “I’m sorry, babe, she was something to fill in a bit of time on a long, boring flight.” He held my hand as it rested in my lap. “It was a long time ago, way before I met you.”

  I bumped his shoulder with mine. “These things have a way of coming back and biting us on the ass, don’t they? Seems I can’t get away from all the girls you’ve slept with, even at thirty-five thousand feet.”

  As soon as the safety demonstration was over, the stewardess sauntered over.

  “Bonjour, bienvenue à bord M. Michaels. C’est un plaisir de vous revoir.”

  I’m sure it was a pleasure for her to see him again, and I wondered if she was going to welcome me aboard the way she had just welcomed Cole, but of course she didn’t. Instead, her eyes flicked over to me briefly before smouldering back onto Cole.

  “Est-ce votre épouse?”

  I smirked; this was going to be interesting. She had just asked Cole if I was his wife, and I was expecting him to choke at the question.

  “Non, pas encore.”

  No, not yet—what did that mean? I looked out the window, trying to interpret Cole’s response.

  I hadn’t told Cole I could speak French fluently, and he had just assumed that I couldn’t. I tried to keep a straight face as I listened to her drool all over him.

  “S’il ya quelque chose vous voudriez que je fasse pour toi,” she purred before moving to the passengers behind us.

  Slut, I thought. How obvious could she be? If there’s something she can do for him—I’ll tell her a few things she can do. Cole had implied that we were together, and she was still propositioning him. I was sure by the way she said it, she didn’t mean if he wanted another bag of peanuts.

  I looked at him, and smiled innocently. “What was all that about?”

  “Ah, nothing, babe, she was just welcoming us aboard.” He squeezed my hand before raising it to his lips, and kissing the palm. “I can’t wait to get to Paris.” He sighed.

  I knew I should tell him I had understood every word they had said to each other, but I wanted to know how Cole would respond to her if he thought I couldn’t understand what they were saying. He could just as easily have told her he would meet her in the galley once I went to sleep, but he didn’t. I wanted to wait to eavesdrop on any other exchanges between them that may occur, so decided to confess after we arrived in Paris. In the meantime, I would be watching the little French tart very closely.

  I brought his hand over to my lips, and returned the kiss. “I can’t wait, either.”

  Cole’s studio apartment was right in the heart of Paris in an old, blue-stone building. It was two floors up, and, as with most studio apartments, was quite small, but from the balcony you could see the Avenue des Champs-Élysées, and the Arc de Triomphe. In the distance was the Eiffel Tower, so the location was superb.

  “You’re being quite presumptuous, aren’t you?” I teased, standing out on the balcony and looking back into the room. “Where will you be sleeping?”

  I was looking at the layout of the apartment. There was a small kitchenette in the back left-hand corner. A separate bathroom was in the back right-hand corner. The rest of the open plan room consisted of a king-size bed against the wall on the right in front of the bathroom, with a couch facing it against the wall at the other end.

  He chuckled, and wrapped his arms around me, sighing contentedly. “Well, we’ve slept together on a couch and in my bed at home, so I figured we’d be sleeping together here. But I can always take the couch if you don’t think you’ll be able to control yourself.”

  “It’ll be tough, but I’ll do my best not to take advantage of you,” I said jokingly.

  “Don’t try too hard.”

  We sat cross-legged on the huge bed with tourist maps and brochures spread out, trying to decide what we wanted to do over the next week.

  Cole had been coming to Paris for years. His family owned a villa on the outskirts of town, so he had already seen everything there was to see ten times over. I, however, hadn’t been since a school trip when I was fourteen, and it was very different to travel as a child than as an adult.

  I wanted to take in all the tourist spots, like the Louvre Museum, Sacre-Cour Basilica, and the Cathedral de Notre Dame. I was also really keen to see the Opera Garnier Palace, climb the Eiffel Tower, and if we could get tickets, go to the Moulin Rouge.

  There was so much to see and do in Paris and the surrounding areas. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to see. Claude Monet’s house and gardens in Giverny, was about an hour’s drive
. It was famous for being the inspiration for Monet’s gorgeous Water Lilies paintings, and of course there was Château de Versailles.

  Cole sat there with a big grin on his face, watching me pour over the information spread out before me.

  “You know, we don’t have to do everything this week. We can always come back,” he reassured me. “Paris isn’t going anywhere. The apartment’s not going anywhere.”

  I looked up from the brochures to meet his eyes.

  “I’m not going anywhere either,” he said earnestly.

  How could he be so sure there would be another time when we could come back? Riley would be home in three and a half months, and I doubted after that I would be going anywhere with Cole. Besides, there was still the Prudence Harrington issue to sort out. I’m sure she wouldn’t approve of her future betrothed jetting off to Paris, even if it was with his best friend.

  No, I was determined to fit everything in. I grabbed a notepad and pen in my right hand, and in my best project-planning mode, messily mapped out our itinerary to account for nearly every minute of every day.

  Cole picked up my schedule and read over it, twisting his mouth from side to side. “Uh-huh. Hmm. Right,” he affirmed.

  I was relieved that he seemed to be on board. It would be tight, but I was sure we could do it all in the allotted time.

  He raised his eyes, and looked at me over the rim of the paper. I couldn’t see the rest of his face, but his eyes looked serious. “You’ve left out a few things.”

  “Really? What did I forget?” I asked, taking the paper back from his grasp to review it.

  “There’s no scheduled cuddle breaks. How can I go for a week without doing this?”

  He launched himself from one side of the bed to the other, landing on top of me and scooping me up into his arms.

  I squealed in surprise, and then burst out laughing. “Sorry, but no time for cuddling if we want to fit everything in.”

  “Right, well that settles it then.” He sat up and took the schedule back before screwing it up and shooting it into the trash can. “We can play it by ear.”