by Kahlen Aymes
She was, and he was so grateful. He hadn’t realized how much he needed her near to somehow make sense of any of this. As his tears ebbed, Caleb turned his face to kiss her temple as he inhaled deeply to gain some control over his rampant emotions, his chest tight with love for Wren and the loss of his father. Nothing could be done about their relationship now, and though he’d been hurt and hated Edison for years, the chance to know his father was lost forever. But his chance with Wren was now. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks.
She pulled back just enough to look into his deep blue eyes, now glassed over with tears, his eyelashes wet and spiky, longing to comfort him. He was still beautiful, but his hair was shorter. She lifted her hand to touch the side of his face. “Oh, Cale.” Tears still fell onto her cheeks, and he wiped at them with his thumb. “He loved you. I know he did.”
Caleb’s eyes closed, his expression twisting as he fought to regain control. Why couldn’t his father have said that before it was too late? For years he’d hardened his heart and convinced himself it didn’t matter; but it mattered more than anyone knew. Even Wren.
All Caleb could do was pull Wren close again and bury his face into her shoulder. He was still shaking and all she could do was hold him close, cry with him, stroke his hair, and whisper words designed to comfort him. He was helpless to his feelings and helpless to his reaction.
Caleb succumbed for only a short time, but then reason took hold of his mind, strength took over and he got it together.
He’d lost control of his emotions only a couple of times in his life, and it wasn’t something he was proud of. He was a master at hiding his feelings and he was embarrassed when anyone saw any type of weakness in him. And Wren… He’d always taken care of her, and she was the last person he wanted to witness him falling apart.
“Uhuhum…” Macy cleared her throat. She watched the two of them fall apart right in front of her and her heart seized. Caleb hadn’t told her much about Wren, but she’d always assumed they weren’t close and that they had a typical stepsibling relationship when the parents married later in life when their children are older. Given Caleb’s abhorrence for his stepmother, Macy had expected casual indifference for Wren, certainly not this explosive reaction to the girl.
At first impression, Wren looked about eighteen years old and though beautiful, was very frail. Jealousy welled inside Macy. He didn’t want comfort from her, which said a lot about his inner strength. Obviously, that wasn’t the case with Wren. She sucked in a slow breath to quell her rising agitation.
Caleb glanced up to where Macy was standing and his eyes locked with hers, noting the pained expression left undisguised on her face. A wave of guilt rushed through him. He swallowed and began to disengage with Wren, though Macy had already started a brisk walk from the room.
Wren saw a blur in her peripheral vision and pulled completely out of Caleb’s embrace; suddenly aware of what had just happened in front of the other woman. She felt horrible about it. This was Caleb’s girlfriend and she had to be hurt after what she had just witnessed.
“Caleb, stop her.” Wren stood up and brushed at her wet cheeks with both hands, then quickly wiped them on the hem of her shirt. She turned toward the retreating figure and called out her name.
“Macy, right? I’m so sorry. It was rude of me to hover and barge in like that. It’s just that I knew I missed dinner and felt I should apologize to everyone. ”
Macy stopped and turned back into the room, trying to hide her displeasure at Caleb’s behavior. She reminded herself of the reason for this little reunion and that the circumstance might warrant a little levity. His reaction was testimony to the pain he really felt, though she wished she’d been the one allowed to comfort him. It made her wary of Wren and she questioned the truth of Caleb’s feelings for the young woman.
Macy sized Wren up again. Her face had a delicate beauty; her features fine with vibrant blue eyes, her body so small, she looked as if she might blow away in a strong breeze. If Caleb was protective of her, it was easy to see why.
Wren held out her right hand, taking a step forward, toward Macy. Caleb, now on his feet, was unsure of what to say, and stood watching. “I’m Wren. It’s nice to meet you.”
Macy’s expression lost a bit of its strain as she slowly took Wren’s hand and shook it. “The stepsister.” She nodded and smiled stiffly. “I’m Macy. Caleb’s—”
The hair on the back of Caleb’s neck stood up. The label grated on him like fingernails running down a chalkboard, but worse, he wasn’t ready for Wren to believe his relationship to Macy was more serious than it really was. He was acutely aware he’d look like an asshole either way.
“Um, Macy and I are working… uh, she’s helping me find financial backing for a business idea.” The words rushed out of Caleb’s mouth, and he ran a hand through his hair nervously, his eyes flashing to Wren’s face. He wanted to gauge her reaction; unsure why he felt guilty, and prayed the conversation would move away from the topic.
Wren paused as the handshake ended, and both of them looked at him. Wren’s features held a faint curiosity and Macy’s hardened as her mouth pressed into an angry line. Awkward was an understatement. Fuck.
“Oh,” Wren said. Her voice was soft and she smiled gently at Macy. It was evident the other woman was hurt and angry. “I thought you two were together.”
“So did I,” Macy retorted, shooting Caleb an angry look.
Wren felt the tension between them, and she wanted to make Macy feel better. “You know guys; most of them are commitment phobic.”
“Yes.” Macy smiled and seemed to relax. “He’s just shy about sharing.”
Caleb bristled, wondering what or who Wren was basing her comment on.
“Cale, is there anything to drink?” Wren asked hopefully, raising her eyebrows and glancing suggestively at the bar. She needed a distraction and a way to move the conversation away from its current course. “Wine, maybe?”
He nodded and went to the bar without saying a word. He wasn’t sure how he felt about this apparent kinship between Wren and Macy. Wren still held a beguiling innocence in stark contrast to Macy’s razor sharp edginess, and the protectiveness inside him reared. What would Macy say to Wren? He’d already decided he wanted to keep distance between them, and that looked like it was shot to hell. He found some red wine, opened it and poured three glasses.
It wasn’t long before Wren and Macy were engaged in conversation about Macy’s firm, how she and Caleb had met, and Wren’s production schedule for the upcoming season. Macy was a talker and had a lot of questions, which Wren answered graciously.
As Caleb sat on the opposite sofa, enthralled watching the animated way Wren talked about the torture of many long hours of practice, the grueling touring schedule, and her love of traveling the world. The joy that radiated from her made his heart constrict a little, and he wished he’d shared some of it with her.
He should probably just take the fucking estate and not bog her down with the responsibility of helping him run the company. It was clear she loved her life as it was. His mind railed as his conflict filled him. He already knew most of what she was saying, and even though they didn’t keep in close contact anymore, she was a still a priority. Despite their differences, Caleb made it a point to know where she was at all times.
He was listening, but the words morphed into the background as the conversation between the girls continued. He simply could not take his eyes off of Wren’s face. She was so beautiful; still so beautiful.
He remembered the first time he saw her without that horrible black wig and awful dark eye makeup she habitually wore after coming to live with the Luxon men. He thought she was an utter freak before the night he and his friend had gotten the shit beat out of them. The night Dex’s Mustang was destroyed; when Dex’s dad had dropped him off at home after taking Dex to the hospital. He wondered if Wren remembered that night with as much clarity as he did. It had changed the way he thought of her, looked at her,
and made him want to get to know who she really was.
CALEB REMEMBERED IT as if it were yesterday. Even though he was observing the two women interact; his mind was filled with that night.
The first time he’d seen her as she truly was; he’d been stunned. Despite his injuries and haze of pain, he’d barely been able to believe his eyes as she tended to his wounds. He was in as bad of shape as Dex had been and should have been seen by a doctor, too. He hadn’t wanted to burden Darren more than they already had, and he’d put on a tough front, hiding how badly he was hurt. It turned out he’d had at least three broken ribs and the pain had made it impossible for him to get downstairs by himself. He’d collapsed at the top of the stairs, and lay there in a helpless, moaning heap.
Like an angel, Wren had appeared; her long blonde curls flowing loose, her eyes not masked by the black makeup she usually wore, and the blush on her skin not hidden beneath a whitewash of foundation.
At first, he thought he was having a hallucination brought on by a pain-induced hazed.
“Caleb!” When she spoke, and he recognized her voice. He remembered how stunned he was; how absolutely speechless he’d been as he stared into her beautiful face, framed by all of that glorious hair.
“Wren?” he’d asked as she knelt beside him on the marble tiles of the kitchen floor, his hand reaching toward her face. He grunted in pain and fell back on the cold floor, cradling his mid-section. “Is that you?”
“Oh, Cale. What have you done?” His face was bruised and swollen, his knuckles broken and bleeding, so she’d done as he asked and not called his dad, or a doctor. Instead, she taped up his ribs, cleaned his hands and the cut above his left eyebrow, and bandaged him up as best she could. All without judgment.
In those few hours their relationship slowly began to change. She’d pulled his arm around her neck, put another around his waist to take some of his weight as she helped him carefully down the stairs and into his bed. He was exhausted and out of breath, pain wracking his body; his ribs throbbed, his knuckles burned and his head pounded, and still; he couldn’t take his eyes off of her in the low-lit room.
“You can’t tell my dad, okay?” He groaned in pain as she let him down as gently as possible. “I mean, ever?”
“What will he do?”
“Lecture me to death. I’ll be better by the time they get back, and he’ll just be an asshole.”
“Okay.” She nodded and turned to leave the room. “I’ll let you get some rest and check on you in the morning.”
Caleb was panting slightly, out of breath from the exertion and his injuries, embarrassed to be so broken in front of her. He was seeing her as she really was, with new eyes… and he’d never look at her in the same way again.
“Wren, wait.” He put up a hand and she turned back around. “Why?” His brow knitted and he shook his head in confusion? “I don’t get it. You’re so—”
She stopped and turned toward him again, a small shrug lifting her slight shoulders. “It’s just… easier. My mom doesn’t like me when I look like this.”
Despite his weakened condition, rage welled up inside Caleb’s chest and real hate for his stepmother began to fester. From what he’d seen Veronica didn’t like Wren when she looked gothic, either. “What? She wants you to hide what you really look like? Is she that vain? She can’t handle that you’re more beautiful than her?”
When Wren looked down and shrugged again, embarrassed to be called beautiful after so many years of being told she was ugly and worthless. She was frightened at the very thought of being more beautiful than her mother. She had tasted the consequences of that, too many times.
Caleb exploded. “That is so fucked up, Wren!” Pain had sliced through him as his muscles coiled with rage; his first instinct to act. “If I could, I’d beat the shit out of her. What kind of twisted bitch is she, to do that to her own kid?”
“Caleb, it’s okay. I’m used to it.”
He shook his head. “No. No, it’s not okay, Wren! It’s so fucked up.”
“She forgets about me when I disappear. She doesn’t hurt me as much when I wear that stuff.”
Caleb had never been so livid in his life. Not even his own father’s lack of caring about him could compare to how heinous this was. It was one thing to forget about your kid and another to physically and emotionally abuse them. “You will never put that stuff on again, Wren. Never, do you hear me?”
“She’ll—”
“I never want to see that fucking shit covering up your face or that wig hiding your hair again!” Wren started to protest and Caleb held up his hand to stop her words. “I’ll deal with Veronica. She won’t hurt you, I promise.”
He fell back on the pillows exhausted, the exertion making him cough and the spasms sending pain rocketing through his midsection. “Aw, fuck.”
Wren had hovered for a couple of seconds then reached into her back pocket for her phone. “You should go to the hospital, Cale.”
He shook his head and put a hand to stop her from calling an ambulance. “No. I’ll be okay. I’ve had worse beatings than this.” He huffed softly, lying back again. “You did a good job taping me up. Can you get me some water, please?”
Wren had gone to the master suite and rummaged through the medicine cabinet to find a vile of Vicodin and brought it, along with a glass of water to him.
“Take one of these. It says on the label it’s for pain.”
Caleb didn’t question where she got the pills, he just downed the one she handed him and closed his eyes. She spent the night, and the next, on the couch in the entertainment room in the basement, so she could check on Caleb and hear him if he needed anything. She’d nursed him, brought him food, and helped him back and forth to the bathroom; until a few days later when he was able to move around by himself. She’d even skipped school to take care of him. When his dad and Veronica came back from their trip two weeks later, Caleb could move without grimacing, his bruised face and knuckles were healed, and Wren… was Wren.
The shock on Veronica’s face when she’d returned to see her daughter without the disguise had been priceless. Edison had been quietly astonished for a split second, but then nodded his silent approval, and went about his business like nothing had changed.
The morning after their return, his dad had gone to Lux and Caleb stayed by Wren for the inevitable confrontation that would come from his step-hag. Wren had been pensive but Caleb had reassured her he’d be by her side through it all. They’d been having breakfast in the kitchen when Veronica marched into the kitchen for coffee at a time when Jonesy had been cleaning in the other room.
“Caleb, I’d like to speak to Wren.”
“Isn’t she gorgeous?” he’d asked casually, and set down his spoon, locking eyes with Veronica, and silently throwing down the gauntlet. “Who knew? Oh, right. You did.”
Wren sat as still as stone next to Caleb, unable to meet her mother’s eyes, fear keeping her quiet. It made Caleb physically sick that Wren would be so intimidated and afraid of this vapid woman.
He stood up and moved to stand in the space between where Wren was sitting at the table and Veronica stood in front of the refrigerator, his voice deadly calm. “You won’t touch her again. You won’t tell her what to eat or not eat. You won’t tell her how to dress or make her ashamed of how beautiful she is. You won’t raise your hand or your voice to her, ever again.”
Veronica had cackled in her shrill, waspish laugh; casually brushing off his threat. “Shut up, Caleb. You’re just a kid no one cares about. Your father will—”
Something inside Caleb snapped at her harsh words. He bolted into action, grabbing Veronica, turning quickly and roughly pushing her up against the wall. The entire thing took less than a second. He used his forearm to press against her chest, using his weight in to hold her still. Wren gasped loudly at Caleb’s show of force, but remained unmoving. His ribs weren’t one hundred percent and his movements caused him a great deal of pain, but it was masked with his an
ger.
Caleb’s face was inches from Veronica’s; so close he could feel her breath on his face as she gasped and exhaled in her surprise at his abrupt actions.
“Look, you don’t know me, but I can make you disappear. Literally.” He leaned in even closer so he could lower his voice; looking down as he towered over her. “So don’t. Fuck. With. Me.” He punctuated each word for emphasis. “I know everything, you vain, wicked bitch. Touch Wren again and I promise you’ll be very, very sorry.”
He had lied because he didn’t really know everything Veronica had subjected Wren to, but he could guess. It was only after she felt safe that she’d shared the details of how Veronica beat her, starved her, berated her and made her hide inside herself, behind that horrible black wig, and harsh makeup. She told him that she dealt with the emotional abuse, by starting to self-mutilate.
“Do you understand me?”
Veronica had met his eyes and sneered, her bright red lips contorting in a hateful expression. “Your father won’t stand—”
Caleb’s lips lifted in a devious smile as he simultaneously gave his stepmother another sharp shove. “My father is a lot of things, but he’s my father. Haven’t you paid attention? I can do any damn thing I want and he’ll bail me out. That’s the beauty of it. Your pussy isn’t so amazing that he’d forsake me or sully his precious company and the Lux name. Trust me.”
Veronica stilled, shocked from the bluntness of his words and the realness of his threat. She no longer struggled to free herself from Caleb’s grasp, her eyes meeting the blue steel of his, but her features belied an untouchable and conceited smugness that told Caleb she wasn’t backing down. Hate welled up inside his chest and he wanted to pound his fist into her smug expression.
After half a minute, Caleb released her and turned back to Wren. She wasn’t finished with breakfast, but he needed to put space between himself and Veronica. He held out his hand to Wren, who took it readily. “You’re with me. Let’s go.”
