Caged Read online

  The estate agent, Gregory Barnes, smiled at us both as he walked out of the front door of the house. First impression was that I liked it. It was a small terrace but it was in a good area and the outside looked in good repair. It was on three levels which I found novel.

  “Please, come in.” Gregory gestured with a flick of his head as he held open the front door. “As requested, there’s no chain and it’s available immediately.”

  As soon as I stepped inside the flagstones that ran through the hallway made my heart gallop. The décor was basic but fresh and the wood that ran all through the rest of the house made my belly dance with excitement.

  The kitchen was small but adequate for me and Dave. It was rare that I cooked anyway, sometimes coming in from work so late that I just passed out on the couch fully clothed with nothing but a glass of wine in my stomach.

  A small patio led down to a small square lawn, yet again, big enough for a few pot plants and Dave’s dollops. I missed Dave so much and I couldn’t wait to get my own place so he could move back in with me.

  “I’ll take it.”

  Claire clapped, more thrilled than I was. “House warming next Saturday.”

  “I haven’t got time for a party,” I grumbled when Gregory handed me the information I needed to call in his office and sort out the necessary paperwork.

  “Bollocks,” Claire disagreed. I gave Gregory an apologetic look and rolled my eyes at my friend’s overzealous choice of words. “I’ll arrange it; you just turn up.”

  Knowing I wouldn’t stand a chance at winning an argument with her, I flicked up my hands and sighed. “Fine.”

  I knew I’d live to regret it, like most of Claire’s ‘adventures’. She always said, ‘It’ll be fine. Trust me.’ Well that ‘trust me’ had landed us both in hot water many times, once even in a cell for the night.

  As if reading my thoughts, Claire gave me a mischievous wink. “Trust me, Kloe.”

  I could hear his shouts from the end of the corridor and I sped up, my heels barely clicking on the floor as I ran.

  “What the hell is going on?” I shouted as I entered Anderson’s room.

  Anderson was struggling under two men, both of them straddled across his body as they tried to hold him down. He was screaming, his eyes bulging with terror as he attempted to take bites out of the men.

  As soon as they heard my voice, everything stopped. Everyone turned to look at me, even Anderson’s livid green gaze.

  “He’s manic,” one of the orderlies, Vince, according to his name badge, panted. “The doctor has been called to sedate him.”

  “No!” I spoke quickly as I stepped closer to them. “No more sedation.”

  All three of them were panting, out of breath. However, it was only Anderson’s eyes that showed fear.

  “He’s already restrained. I refuse to allow you to lock up his mind. This man has been controlled since he was four. He needs trust and understanding, not punishment and confinement.”

  Slowly I looked to Anderson. “Please,” I said. “Calm down. I’m here to help you. I promise I won’t hurt you. I will never hurt you. I won’t allow anyone to hurt you ever again.”

  His eyes narrowed on me, his face turning slightly to the side as he regarded me warily.

  “Please, Anderson. You need to trust me.”

  He stared at me for a long time, but then, miraculously, he nodded slowly.

  The men restraining him looked to me and I nodded. Cautiously they both climbed off Anderson. My heart stilled as I waited for him to kick off again. But he didn’t. His gaze, like last time, remained fixed on me as I strolled across the room and sat in the chair.

  “It’s okay, you can leave,” I told Vince and his colleague. They appeared uneasy with my order but eventually shrugged, probably hoping Anderson would eat me, and left.

  “Thank you,” I said quietly.

  Anderson was still staring at me dubiously and I held his gaze.

  We sat in silence, watching each other for a long time. I wanted him to trust me and I felt that he had to make the first move when he was good and ready.

  The sky was darkening outside the window when a small breakthrough finally came.

  “Kloe.” My name, from him, in that gruff and nervous voice, was worth more than a year’s salary right then.

  I smiled widely, beaming with pride. “That’s right. Kloe Grant.”

  “Kloe,” he repeated, more smoothly this time.

  “Do you know who you are, Anderson?”

  He swallowed. His vocal ability was so poor I could see him having to think about how words were pronounced and formed. “Anderson … Cain.”

  “Anderson Cain.” I smiled again. “I like that. It suits you.”

  Leaning forward slowly, I rested my elbow on my knees. The dim light in the room caused shadows to move across his face every time he moved his head, but the soft glow was also calming. “Do you know why you’re here, Anderson?”

  He didn’t answer for a moment, his eyes narrowing on me as if he thought I was trying to trick him. Eventually he shook his head.

  “No wonder you’re scared.” The words were meant for me only but Anderson answered me.

  “Why?”

  Taking a risk, I pulled out the folder from my bag and slipped out the photograph. Standing up, I waited until acceptance cleared his face and then I took a step towards him.

  “Do you know who this is?”

  His eyes dropped from my face to the picture of the small blonde-haired boy. He studied it for so long I wondered if he was struggling to focus on it and needed glasses.

  Shaking his head, he lifted his eyes to mine. Curiosity stared back at me, but he swallowed heavily as if expecting my answer.

  “This is you.”

  He frowned, taking another look at the photograph I held. His teeth sank into his lip but other than that he showed no emotion towards the picture.

  “I know you’re scared, Anderson. But if you’ll let me, I want to be your friend.”

  “Friend?”

  “Friend,” I repeated. I wasn’t entirely sure he knew what ‘friend’ meant. “But you have to promise me that you won’t hit out again. I can’t help get you out of here if you keep fighting us.”

  “Out?” His eyes moved to the window.

  I frowned. “Have you ever been out?”

  My stomach clenched as I waited for his answer.

  “Out,” he repeated. His focus moved back to me and I had to swallow the fury trying to climb up my throat with the pain in Anderson’s eyes.

  Jesus Christ. “You’ve never been outside, have you?” My voice was breathless, tears pushing to get through. In all my four years doing this job, not once had I felt so lost and hopeless.

  His gaze moved back to the window when I pulled open the curtains. He gasped and his eyes widened on the stars that shone brightly outside his window. I thanked God for the cloudless night sky.

  There was an awe, a hunger in Anderson’s eyes and my heart reached up my throat.

  “One day soon I’m going to hold your hand and you’re going to step foot outside. The fresh air that will fill your lungs will make you giddy. The breeze will blow through your hair, across your face, and every bird in the sky will sing a song for you, Anderson Cain.”

  This time Anderson sensed the pain and the sorrow in my voice. His green eyes reflected the very same emotions.

  “Kloe,” he repeated, his voice as breathless as mine.

  “I’m going to take care of you. I promise.”

  “Promise,” he echoed as he watched me pick up my bag.

  “I’ll be back tomorrow. After breakfast.”

  “Breakfast.”

  It was like conversing with a toddler who had just learned how to form words. Yet I couldn’t hold back my smile as I walked out of the hospital.

  I STOOD IN THE DOOR watching Anderson with curiosity the next morning. He hadn’t heard me approach. He was sitting up, his wrists still cuffed to the bed. Someo
ne had put a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon on his bed table. However, the table was positioned at the bottom of his bed. Even in reach, Anderson wouldn’t have been able to feed himself due to his binds.

  I wasn’t sure if it was done maliciously or if it was an oversight. But it wasn’t that that made the beat of my heart still. It was Anderson’s expression. He was staring at the food, his lips sucked behind his teeth as if he was in pain. A sheen of tears made his eyes shimmer, but fear was also evident. Occasionally his eyes would flick sideways, his face tilted downwards as if looking at the food hurt him. He was blinking hard, trying to bite back the need to cry.

  My hands curled into fists and I gritted my teeth together as I took a silent step backwards.

  I coughed loudly then casually strolled through the door.

  Anderson lowered his face, squeezing his eyes shut hard.

  “Good morning,” I chirped, making sure to avoid his eyes until he had managed to take control of his emotions. “Oooh, breakfast.”

  He stared at me with wide eyes when I perched myself on the edge of his bed and pulled the table towards me.

  “Smells good.”

  Taking the fork I stabbed at a small amount of egg and turned to Anderson with a large smile.

  His brow was puckered in confusion as his eyes shot from my face to the fork and then back again.

  I placed the egg in my mouth and smiled as I chewed. “Not bad. Not as nice as mine but it’s edible.”

  Then repeating the action, I this time directed the fork to Anderson. He gulped, slightly rearing back.

  “Try it,” I urged with a nod. “This is yours.”

  Puzzlement cast his eyes to me again. “Mine.”

  I nodded. “Yours.”

  At last, he very slowly opened his mouth but he never took his gaze from me, watching me closely. Smiling, I slid the fork between his lips and nodded again, encouraging him to eat. He chewed quickly, swallowing with a loud noise. I wanted to giggle but took control of myself and offered him more. He became greedy, chewing rapidly and opening his mouth for more and more.

  “Slow down.” I couldn’t help but laugh a little. He reminded me of a little bird. “There’s plenty more.”

  The expression on his face when he took a piece of bacon will never leave me. It’ll be one of those life moments that replay when I die, the pleasure and surprise that portrayed every bit of his delight as he chewed even faster, desperate for more. His eyes lit up like it was the tastiest morsel of food he’d ever eaten. Sadness overtook me when I realised it really was the tastiest thing he’d ever eaten.

  When he’d cleaned the plate I gave him a drink of his tea through the straw placed on the tray and listened to his deep slurp.

  His eyes lifted back to mine when he’d finished. He worked his mouth again, opening and closing before he said, “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure. I can’t wait until you try Ben and Jerry’s.” I chuckled as I stood up and pushed the table back down to the bottom of his bed, and then added quietly, “I’ll probably have an orgasm at the face you pull then.”

  I froze when a low growl came from Anderson. Fuck, he had really good hearing!

  “Right,” I declared a little too enthusiastically as I spun back round to face him, embarrassment glowing across my cheeks. Then I realised he wouldn’t even know what an orgasm was and relaxed.

  However, his hot green eyes bore into me and I could feel the air struggle in my lungs as it tried to rush out in a single gush. Fuck, he also knew what orgasms were if the look on his face was anything to go by.

  My eyes glanced at the clock and I wondered if 9am was too early for alcohol.

  Brushing myself off, angry with my train of thought, I grinned a little too much. “Are you up to talking?”

  He scowled. I guessed not then. Oh well.

  Taking the chair that was in the corner of the room, I pulled it a little closer towards the bed and lowered myself down. Anderson watched every move I made, his eyes assessing me.

  “I know it might be difficult and frustrating to start with but soon we’ll be able to take those cuffs off you.”

  His eyes dropped to where his arms were tucked down by his sides, the strong leather bindings making sure I stayed safe until we learned to trust each other better.

  “I would really like you to be able to move about, Anderson. But I can’t sanction that until you can manage to calm your temper.”

  He lay still, staring at me. I knew he understood what I was saying, I could see the recognition in his eyes. Once again, he looked at the cuffs and frowned.

  “I understand that you’re scared, angry and confused. All this has happened so quickly for you.”

  He remained silent, listening and watching.

  Blowing out a breath, I tried a different tactic. “What do you like, Anderson?”

  His frown deepened.

  “Tell me something you like. I have no idea what makes you feel, what makes your heart beat quicker.”

  He blinked and lowered his face when a sadness seeped into eyes. “Tamsin.”

  “Tamsin?”

  The silence around us was deafening. I watched in horror when a tear rolled from Anderson’s eye and slid down his cheek. He tried to wipe it away with his shoulder and I quickly pulled a tissue from the box and gently reached to him. He pulled in a breath and cowered away but I persisted, going slowly as I gently wiped away the tear.

  “Who’s Tamsin, Anderson?”

  As I moved away he pushed his face closer to my hand, resting his cheek in my palm as his eyes climbed up my neck to my face and locked onto my eyes.

  “Tamsin,” he whispered. His voice was choked and so full of sadness. “Dog.”

  “Was Tamsin your friend?”

  I didn’t want to move in case he closed up again so I sat on the bed, allowing him to rest his face in my hand.

  He nodded. “She was my dog.” Those four words were the most I’d managed out of him and I had to clamp down my emotions.

  “Did Tamsin live in the basement with you?”

  He nodded. “Mary… she... Mary hit her.”

  Oh shit.

  “Mary? Mary who lived in the house with you?”

  “Yes.”

  I could feel him slipping away. I was stupid. I should have stopped. I should have shut my fucking mouth. But I didn’t.

  “Did Mary hurt you too, Anderson?”

  His eyes widened as panic rolled over him. His head started to shake from side to side as the most horrendous sound burst from him.

  “It’s okay, it’s okay,” I urged as I held on to his arms to stop him from shaking. Years of training and I made the most foolish error. I thought we’d made a connection. I thought I’d made some progress. I thought he trusted me. I was so wrong.

  My body flew backwards as a tremendous pain sliced through my head and I fell onto the floor, instinctively bringing my hands up to where Anderson had just head-butted me. Tears of pain poured from my eyes as I gritted my teeth against the agony.

  “Shit!” I heard Betty shout before someone stormed into the room.

  Anderson cried out and I tried to get to my feet to tell them not to, but by the time my vision cleared and I lifted onto all fours, the drugs forced into Anderson’s bloodstream by none other than Vince had already worked, his tranquil sleep pushing back his nightmares.

  “Shit, Kloe!”

  “My own fault,” I groaned as Betty helped me into the chair.

  “What the hell are you doing? You should have a chaperone!”

  “I know. I just thought…”

  And as if my day couldn’t get worse, Dr Krum piped up from his position by the door, “You didn’t think! And your incompetence has just put my patient back to the fucking beginning!”

  I dropped my head into my hands and sighed.

  Stupid!

  ANDERSON WAS STARING OUT OF the window when I went back four days later. It was a bright but cool morning and I saw the amazement in his face
as he watched the branches of a nearby tree move slightly in the light breeze.

  He’d been conscious for two of the days I had stayed away. It wasn’t that I was scared to go back, but I mentally had to back off. Anderson had to be treated like a child, because emotionally he was exactly that. There were parts of him that were very much adult and man, however, he wasn’t psychologically capable of dealing with the varying emotions that tore through him. He became quickly heated, his confusion frustrating him and making him lash out. And it was that that had to be addressed first.

  “You want to go outside and feel that breeze on your cheeks?”

  He turned to look at me as I stood in the doorway to his room. His face pinched, guilt hanging heavy in his eyes when he spotted the bruise to the top of my nose.

  “You didn’t think I would come back?”

  He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Kloe.”

  His voice was clear, full of remorse. His words were pronounced slowly, each one taking effort but each syllable was coherent and well-defined even though his tone was still rough and gravelly. I had to compress my lips to stop my mouth from falling open.

  “Have you been practising?” I couldn’t help but smile with pride when he nodded.

  “Then your effort is very much appreciated.” Pulling up the chair, I sat down and placed my bag beside me on the floor. “However, I think I’ll sit here today.”

  Lowering his eyes, he nodded.

  I looked at him then sighed. “Your old life is gone now, Anderson. I understand you’re scared and you have no idea what is happening. But I’m here to help you. If you don’t want to talk about what happened to you then that’s fine, we can talk about the weather, or dogs if that’s your passion. We can even talk about the damn colour of the walls. But I will not tolerate you hurting me.”

  He nodded. “Yes.”

  “Do you want me to help you?”

  He looked at me, his eyes huge with alarm as he nodded quickly. “Yes.”

  “Okay.” I smiled and sat back into the chair. “Do you want to tell me why you hurt me?”