Bound: A Caged Novella

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Bound: A Caged Novella Page 2

by D H Sidebottom


  But, for a long time, I sat there, mute and still, holding on to my son’s tiny hand. And for the first time in my life, I prayed.

  I prayed to God.

  I prayed to Kloe.

  The machines continued to beep, the lights continued to flash, and my son continued to lay silent and still.

  ***

  “Mr Cain?”

  Jerking upright, I gawked with wide eyes at the nurse softly calling my name. Her smile was soft yet it did nothing to calm the storm in my chest.

  “It’s okay,” she spoke quietly, and rested her hand on my arm. “Sam is okay. I just wondered if you would like something to eat. You’ve been here a while now, and I’m sure you’re getting hungry.”

  My brain wouldn’t comply when I asked it where I’d seen her before and I stared at her like a fucking moron, my mouth wide open, and quite positive a small amount of drool dribbling down one side.

  Aware of my confusion, her smile only grew wider. “I’m sorry, I startled you. You’ve been asleep for quite some time, and I’m growing worried that you haven’t drank or eaten.”

  “How long have I been asleep?”

  “A little over nine hours.”

  Alarm swept over me and I snapped my attention to Sam.

  “He’s fine,” the nurse reassured. “Still the same but he’s stable and seems to be responding well to the medication.”

  “Any news on his test results yet?”

  “Nothing yet, I’m afraid. Can I get you a tea or coffee, Mr Cain?”

  “Anderson. And, yes, please. Coffee.”

  “That’s right.” She grinned, her smile almost mesmerising me. She had such a calmness about her that I couldn’t help but feel a little more reassured by her presence. “I remember. Coffee, black.”

  I frowned, wondering how she knew, then remembered. “Ahh, the coffee machine.”

  She nodded. “Silly really, the numbers have all virtually rubbed away, and it’s hard to determine the selection if you’re not used to it. The vendor needs to replace it, but like everyone right now, I guess they’re struggling with the economy too.”

  The door opened and we both turned to it when Robbie walked in. He came straight to me, gave my shoulder a squeeze, then settled on the edge of the bed beside Sam. “Go stretch your legs, Anderson. I’ll wait with him.”

  Lifting myself out of the chair, I gave him a grateful smile and followed the nurse outside.

  “Will your partner want a drink?”

  I frowned, almost glaring at her rudely. “My partner?”

  “The man in with Sam now.”

  “He’s not my partner!”

  She blinked at me, unsurprisingly startled by the sharpness of my reply but appeared to swallow it down. “Oh, I’m sorry.” She was quiet while we walked side by side down the corridor, and stopping by the nurse’s station, she turned to me once more. “Will Sam’s mother be joining you? I’m afraid it’s only usually one visitor to each bed, but I’m sure we can make allowances.”

  “No.”

  Her eyes widened at my stiff answer, and she gave me a short nod, yet still accompanied it with that soft smile. “Okay. Just one black coffee it is then. If you could wait until your friend has finished visiting Sam before you go back in, but I’ll leave your coffee in his room.”

  She didn’t wait for another of my short and rude responses, lightly sweeping her way through the doorway and entering the staff quarters.

  Sighing, frustrated at my inability to kerb my damn temper, I made my way outside the hospital, desperate for some fresh air, and a smoke.

  The wind caught my face as soon as I stepped into the open air, but I was glad of it, the crispness biting into my hazy head and invigorating my senses.

  The memories wouldn’t stop hitting me, one after another. My eyes were involuntarily drawn to the corner of the carpark. To the exact spot I had stood in after Kloe had died. I had stayed there, in the same position, for over four hours, staring up at the hospital window. To the specific room that had still contained my wife’s last ever breath.

  “Got a light, mate?”

  The scruffy fuck reared back when I glared at him, and backed away, holding up his hands in way of apology for disturbing my private thoughts. “Jeez, no offence. Just wanted a light.”

  There was something about him that alerted my senses and pricked at my mind, but putting it down to the haze that swallowed every bit of rationality, I sighed and reached into my pocket for my lighter. He took it, cupping a hand around it to shield it from the wind.

  “Cheers, mate.”

  Taking a long drag of his cigarette and handing me my lighter back, his eyes drifted towards the hospital doors for a second as though he was looking for someone, but then he turned and walked away. Strangely, instead of going towards the exit, he disappeared between two large bushes.

  Shrugging, gathering he needed to piss, I flicked my own smoke into the same bushes, and took a deep breath of fresh air. It would probably be the last one for a while.

  “Help him out, little wolf,” I whispered, looking up to the dullness of the grey clouds. “Give him your strength. He needs it.”

  And so did I.

  Three

  Anderson

  The machines continued to beep, the lights continued to flash, and my son continued to lay silent and still.

  “Good morning, Anderson.”

  I hadn’t heard the door open, and blinked in surprise when the nurse smiled down at me as she checked Sam’s obs.

  Sam had been moved to a side room so I could stay with him overnight, a small but adequate bed brought in for me. I’d refused to leave him, or to drop his hand, as he fought the fever that had ravaged his tiny body during the night.

  I wasn’t even sure what day it was anymore, or even day or night, come to that.

  I gave the nurse a smile then frowned when I noticed the dark circles under her eyes, and the pastiness of her skin. Her hands shook as she inspected the few drips that were keeping my son alive.

  “You look rough.”

  She appeared surprised at my honesty, but then sighed and nodded. “Bad night.” That was all she said, and as though she wanted to change the subject when I sat waiting for more of an explanation – like I was entitled to one – she gave me that soft smile of hers. “By the way, I’m Jeanie. You’ll be seeing quite a bit of me as I’ve been designated Sam’s nurse.”

  Strangely, she refused to make eye contact as she moved about doing various things. Her long red hair was pulled into a ponytail behind her head, and when my eyes drifted down her body, I frowned at the small hole in the side of her shoe. The hole in her coat had also caught my attention the first time I met her, and I had to wonder if she didn’t have a uniform, whether her regular clothes would bare the same holes.

  “Jeanie.” I wasn’t even sure why I said her name out loud. It was as if I wanted to taste her on my tongue, feel her in my bones.

  For the first time since she had walked in, her eyes found mine. The piercing blue nearly took the breath from my lungs. Although bright and vivid, there was a sadness deep within the depths of her gaze. The fear that was exposed showed a side to her that I hadn’t noticed before, most probably due to the fear I held inside myself.

  She appeared to be frozen to the spot as I held her stare. For many years, I had learned to read people, it had been the only thing I had relied on to survive, and I could identify every ounce of the terror living inside her.

  “What are you scared of, Jeanie?”

  My words shocked her out of the daze she was locked in, and swallowing, she directed her attention back towards Sam. She didn’t answer me and I had to wonder whether she had heard me. Except, the stiff way she moved, and how her hands trembled more than before, I knew she’d heard every word.

  I opened my mouth to repeat the question, pissed off that she was ignoring me, but the door opened and another nurse popped her head round.

  “Jeanie.” The way she whispered, almost
hesitantly, held my attention. “The police are in Sarah’s office for you.”

  Jeanie’s gulp was loud, but as if she’d been expecting them, she licked at her dry lips and nodded.

  Without another word, she swept out of the room, quietly closing the door behind her. I watched as she walked past the small window to Sam’s room, her eyes low to the floor. The corridor was busy, yet, my attention peaked when I saw the scruffy guy who had asked for a light walk past the window, his beady eyes narrow and straight ahead as he manoeuvred past various people but looked as if he was trying to stay out of sight.

  Quickly kissing Sam’s hand, I finally dropped it, and walked out into the corridor.

  As if by magic, he’d disappeared.

  Frowning, I made my way down the corridor, peeking into various rooms to see if he’d slipped into one, but he was nowhere to be seen.

  I stopped when I came to a window and noticed a cop stood in front of it, his back to the corridor. Stepping back out of sight, I managed to get a glimpse into the room.

  Jeanie was sat in a chair, her face pale, and the way she kept licking her lips told me she was nervous. Reaching into her bag, she took out what appeared to be an envelope and passed it to the policewoman who sat beside her in another chair.

  I couldn’t help but think that Jeanie had been up to no good, until the policewoman reached out and patted her hand as if consoling her. She said something, and Jeanie nodded quickly, terror making her movements jerky and stiff.

  I knew fright when I saw it. And I knew it lived inside Jeanie. I’d seen it in Kloe as soon as I had met her. Jeanie held that same fear, that same weight of dread in the darkest part of her soul. The crushing mass that made every beat of the heart hurt, and every breath chill the marrow of our bones. I’d also lived it. I’d also been swallowed up in its debilitating persistence.

  And it had only been pain that had given me any relief.

  Four

  Jeanie

  I blew out a long breath, steadying my nerves before I pushed open the front door. Silence greeted me. The house was well lit, due to the fact that I’d switched every bloody light on before I’d left that morning, so darkness didn’t drive more fear into me when I returned to the house that had become a dungeon - a prison of fear. But then again, well-lit or not, it didn’t make much of a difference. Not to him.

  Blue came meandering around the corner from the lounge as I apprehensively picked up the mail that was sat in a pile on the door mat. I didn’t want to look at it. I didn’t want to see if there was another. Her long grey coat hid my work trousers under a layer of fur when she curled herself around me.

  “Hey, beautiful Blue.”

  Locking every bolt on the door, my shaking hands making the bottom pin seem stiffer to slide than it was, I picked her up and held her to me like she would protect me. She couldn’t protect me. No one could.

  Shaking my head, I closed my eyes for a second to lock down the bile of fear that was climbing up my throat, and made my way through the house towards the kitchen. My mouth was dry and any attempt at wetting my lips was impossible. Plucking the lip balm from my pocket, I placed Blue on the floor and smothered my lips with a cherry glaze.

  Without a thought, I grabbed a glass from the drainer and opened the fridge to take out the half bottle of cheap wine I had left over from the night before. Alcohol was my only saviour.

  The glass smashed on the tiles when it slid from my grasp. The room swam as I stared in horror at the hideous carcass that sat between an out-of-date bag of rocket and a tin of peaches on the second shelf down.

  Blood dripped onto the shelf below, giving the slice of cheesecake a top layer of juicy colour, as if smothered in strawberry sauce.

  “I’m allergic to strawberries.”

  Shock and horror blended together, my mind rejecting what my eyes were conveying and making it shatter into shards of incomprehension.

  “Cheesecake.”

  Sadness overwhelmed me. I’d used my last couple of quid to pay for that slice of cheesecake. I couldn’t afford another.

  As if I wasn’t wearing any shoes, the floor tiles seeped a coldness through my feet and up my legs, my skin prickling the higher the chill swept. My chest tightened when the ice reached my lungs and froze any breath that was left in them.

  “So perfect.”

  I was surprised by how much the small cadaver still resembled a rabbit. It wore no skin. Every bit of its flesh and muscle was seamlessly intact, each strand of sinew and meat stretched out in a perfect form. Even its small dead eyes were still attached to the head, staring at me like I had surprised it when I opened the door.

  The cold from the fridge began to leech any bit of warmth I had left. My bones began to shudder and my breath misted in front of my face the longer I stood, so cold, staring at the hypnotising structure of a dead rabbit.

  I was vaguely aware of a noise, a shrill ringing that was growing louder and louder the more I stood enraptured by death and bewitched by the macabre.

  It wasn’t until my ears opened to the sound of my phone ringing that I saw the small card placed precisely in front of the rabbit.

  ‘Jeremy always loved his rabbit.

  Miss Carlson, meet Oscar, beloved pet to Jeremy Kingston, deceased. No longer wanted, or needed, now. And definitely not loved. He’s yours now. Hope you enjoy him. He should be pretty good with a decent red.’

  The scream that left me when the heavy knock on the window finally broke through the shock was raw and loud, the pitch painful even to my own ears.

  Melinda stood gawping at me through the window. “What the hell, Jeanie? I’ve been knocking and ringing for over fifteen minutes.”

  Still I stood, rooted to the spot where I was sure I would remain for the rest of my life, my feet trapped by fear, my lungs frozen with shock.

  “Open the door, babe, before I break this damn window and climb through! Think how bad you’ll feel if I gashed my leg and bled to death. My blood will forever be soaked into your lino, reminding you of your rudeness towards your best friend.”

  My feet slowly moved, my body shuffling towards the back door as my whole body shook with the horror that was finally penetrating my stupefied brain.

  “Oscar is dead.”

  Melinda frowned at me when I opened the door to her, grumbling something under her breath as she squeezed her large boobs and backside through the small gap. “What? Who’s Oscar?”

  “The rabbit. The rabbit that ruined my cheesecake.”

  Mel glanced at the clock that sat above the sink, then back to me, her brow creased in confusion. “You been drinking again? It’s only four o’clock!”

  “No.”

  Lifting her hand slowly, she pressed the back of it to my forehead, checking for a temperature. “Are you ill?”

  “No.”

  It was then that she turned her head towards the fridge.

  It was then that she dropped the bottle of wine she had brought with her.

  It was then that her knees buckled and she collapsed into a heap on the floor in front of me.

  It was then when I finally gave into the horror, and passed out beside her.

  ***

  “And there was no sight of anyone when you arrived home?”

  I shook my head and looked down at where WPC Zainab Singh held my hand tightly. My skin was pale, more so than usual, and red blotches spread across my knuckles from the cold sweat that had developed.

  Zainab had been designated as my personal officer since this whole shitstorm had started. She was always gentle, sometimes ridiculously so, but now I appreciated her kindness.

  “No, but I was eager to get inside.”

  She frowned, and nodded. “Did you have a sense of being watched when you got home?”

  “I always have a feeling I’m being watched.”

  She sighed and smiled in understanding. “I need you to know that we’re doing everything we can to find him, Jeanie.”

  I believed her, it wasn’
t that I didn’t, but I also knew Frank Kingston was doing everything he could to not be found. Not by the police anyway.

  As if reading my silence, Zainab squeezed my hand. “This is not your fault!”

  I snorted, the weight of guilt forever obstructing my ability to breathe, but I didn’t bother to debate her view.

  “Are you sure there’s no one you can stay with until Frank is taken into custody?”

  “No.”

  Melinda cringed beside me, her body sagging with shame but I shook my head at her. “Mel, it’s fine. I understand.”

  Mel’s mother was in the final stages of terminal cancer, and Mel had decided that, and rightly so, she should be with her daughter in her last moments. I couldn’t, and wouldn’t, encroach on that.

  “Until Frank actually makes an attempt on your life, I can’t even authorise a safe house for you…”

  I scowled at Zainab. “I know, it’s okay. It’s okay.” She had already done everything in her power to both catch Frank and keep me safe, but at the end of the day, there was only so much she could do with what little resources were available to her.

  She stood up, her partner, Derek Riley, following her lead and rising from the armchair. “You know where I am if you need me, Jeanie.” Derek was also a good guy, his compassion towards me, and the frustration at the systematic red-tape, compelling him to give me his private number as he only lived around the corner from me.

  My gut churned when he picked up the black bag that contained Oscar, and he quickly gestured to his team who were dusting for prints everywhere, to get the hell out and leave me be.

 

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