Caged Read online

  Swallowing, he stared straight at me. “It hurt. It hurt me.”

  “To talk about Mary?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, then we’ll not talk about Mary yet. Deal?”

  He looked confused, squinting at me as he tried to work out what deal meant.

  “Do you want to talk about Tamsin?”

  His face brightened a little and even though sadness flashed in his eyes, he nodded. I reached into my bag and pulled out a photo and showed it to him. “This is Dave, my dog.”

  My breath felt too hot for my lungs when Anderson’s face lifted with the most beautiful smile. It reflected in his eyes, the deep green sparkling with happiness. “Dave,” he repeated.

  I nodded. “He’s an ugly bugger, but he’s amazing.”

  “Dave is your friend?”

  I nodded, flashing him a grin. “He’s my friend, my keeper, my master and my partner.”

  “Tamsin was brown. Big. And hairy.”

  I laughed at his description.

  “She kept me warm.”

  My stomach sank. “I bet you kept her warm too.”

  He nodded. “Tamsin liked me. She licked me a lot.”

  The more he spoke about his beloved Tamsin the more he became animated and the more he said. It was encouraging, especially after the gruelling last few days.

  “She liked to chase wood.”

  “Like fetch?”

  “Fetch?”

  “Yeah. You threw her the wood and she brought it back to you?” He nodded in understanding. “Dave likes to fetch my shoe, although he doesn’t always bring it back and I have to dig it out of the rose bed.”

  He didn’t understand a word I’d said but he smiled. “You love Dave.”

  “I do, very much. He takes care of me. He licks my face when I laugh and he lets me cry into his fur. He also doesn’t mind when I get mascara on his coat.”

  Anderson’s face dropped and he blinked at me, the deep green of his eyes dimming. “You are sad?”

  “Sometimes,” I answered honestly.

  Looking down at the bed, Anderson sighed. “Tamsin also hugged me when I was sad.” His sentences were growing and enthusiasm burrowed deep inside me. “Licked my tears.”

  “That’s because you were her friend and she wanted to help you.”

  He seemed to contemplate this for a moment and then he frowned. “You are my friend?” he asked, referring to one of our earlier conversations. “Like Tamsin?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  He was just about to say something else when the door opened and Krum walked in. Anderson tensed, much the same as me.

  “My office, Ms Grant.” The way he spat my name set my teeth on edge.

  My eyes widened when the room filled with the sound of a low growl, the pitch raw and untamed. Many men growled in annoyance or frustration, or even in passion, but Anderson’s growl was nothing like that. It was feral, wild, the replica of the way a dog would snarl, the tone dangerous and low, and the way his lip curled also gave him the appearance of a wild animal.

  “It’s okay, Anderson,” I said quickly. “I’ll send Jimmy in. I’m sure you need the toilet.”

  The sound of my calm voice cut through his strange behaviour and he nodded to me.

  Dr Krum didn’t wait for me; he was already sat in the chair behind his desk when I walked into his office. The space was large, all the modern appliances making me shake my head in frustration. The hospital was desperate for money for equipment yet this doctor made sure his own personal space was equipped with everything.

  “Sit down, Ms Grant.”

  Smiling sweetly, I did as he asked, propping my bottom into the plush chair opposite him.

  He threw a folder onto the desk. “Judd’s preliminary report.”

  Surprised he was sharing, I picked up the file and glanced through it. It didn’t show much I didn’t already know but I was pleased to see Anderson’s health was, shockingly, in good condition after years of abuse and lack of nutrients.

  “When can we expect your first report?”

  Blowing out a breath, I leaned back in the chair. “I’m sure you’re aware this is a special case.” He nodded, giving me all of his attention. I couldn’t help but frown at his sudden change. “Anderson is, as expected, very scared, but he’s also curious which is a good sign. He’s not as withdrawn as I would expect. We have to remember that he has no life experience at all, no social skills. He’s never been outside in twenty-one years. Life will be extremely hard for him.”

  Nodding again, he tipped his head. “So when will his transfer to Seven Oaks be recommended?”

  Now I understood. Jesus Christ, had no one any damn empathy? This was the main health unit in all of Derbyshire, yet they couldn’t wait to get rid of Anderson and clear a bed.

  Unable to hide my disgust, I spat out, “Costing too much on resources, is he?”

  Krum’s eyes widened at my tone. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Oh, come on, Dr Krum. That’s what this is all about, admit it. Anderson is a huge case. Not only does he need security and twenty-four-hour watch, he’s gained the attention of the authorities. And let me guess, they can’t afford his continual treatment?”

  Sucking air through his gritted teeth, he tapped his fingers on his desk and glared at me. “My concern is not Asher’s…”

  “Anderson…” I cut in, shaking my head when he ignored me.

  “… long term care. He has to accept that he can’t stay secluded in a hospital, my hospital, room until he gets a grip.”

  My mouth fell open, my shock evident the more he said.

  “And you’re right, he’s been here for a few weeks now, and so far I can see nothing to keep him here other than his emotional difficulty. I run a hospital, not a mental health unit. Asher’s health, according to this report, is excellent, and unless he has a physical illness, there’s no more I am able to do for him.”

  Unable to listen to anymore, I stood up, frantically chewing on my lip to stop the words that were rushing up my throat from tumbling out. “No problem, doctor. I’ll make arrangements for Anderson’s transfer first thing in the morning.”

  He finally smiled, a cold and cruel smile. “Thank you. I’m sure you understand my predicament.”

  “Yes, of course,” I answered as I opened the door. “It’s called heartlessness.”

  I didn’t wait for his answer before I slammed his door shut, found the nearest bathroom, and screamed into the two-by-two cubicle.

  TEARS POPPED IN MY EYES and I couldn’t hold back the excited laughter as I rushed up the path. Dave was as thrilled as me, his tail whipping the bush beside the front door and sending leaves and bits of twigs snapping in every direction. His kisses were as eager as mine but wetter.

  “Dave,” I breathed as I buried my face into his fur.

  He whined in return, his chastisement at my disappearance making my heart heavy with guilt. “I’m sorry, buddy.”

  Ben stood on the doorstep, watching us with a frown. “You do know you can come see him any time you want, Kloe.”

  I smiled awkwardly. It still hurt to look at my husband, his infidelity making me both angry and full of sadness. “Thank you. I’ve just come to tell you I’ll be moving into my own place at the weekend so I’ll come pick Dave up Saturday morning.”

  He stared at me as if shocked then slowly nodded. “You want to come in… coffee, or I have wine?”

  “Is she here?” I hated that I had asked but there was no way I could have walked into the house if that blonde bitch was sprawled all over my own fucking furniture.

  “Of course not!”

  He spun around abruptly, disappearing and leaving the front door open for me. Dave trotted inside and I followed. It was strange; it was my house, it had been for three years, yet now it seemed like someone else’s and I was a guest. I stood in the hallway, suddenly nervous.

  “Well?” Ben shouted from the kitchen. “Coffee or wine?”

  “Do you real
ly need to ask?”

  He laughed, nodding as he took a bottle out of the fridge and reached for two glasses.

  “Bad day?” he asked as I followed him through to the living room.

  “Something like that.”

  “You taken on this missing boy case?”

  “Yeah.” His question surprised me. Ben hadn’t asked about my work for a very long time.

  “What’s he like?” he asked as he sat next to me on the sofa, propping his leg underneath him like always.

  “Frightened. Angry.”

  “Yeah, I get that.”

  An uncomfortable silence curdled my stomach and I took a large gulp of the wine. “This is nice.”

  Ben sighed, catching onto my nervous chatter. “Kloe.”

  “Is it a new one?”

  “Kloe.” His hand landed on my arm and I winced at the touch. “Look at me.”

  Making sure to clamp my heart inside my chest first, I looked at him, begging that my heartache wasn’t as visible as it felt.

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  I nodded quickly. “I know.”

  “No, you don’t,” he said quietly, his eyes filling with tears. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “Do? Do what?” I stuttered, taking another anxious drink and hoping the alcohol would hurry up and numb the broken parts inside.

  “Go. We can make this work, Kloe. I never meant to…”

  “No!” I held my hand up, slamming my glass onto the table as I shot upright. “We can’t make this work, Ben. I can’t be with someone I can’t trust. I just can’t. You hurt me, so much, and all I can see when I close my eyes is her. You and her. In this house. On my bed.”

  He lowered his eyes, his face full of pain and guilt.

  “We made a pact, Ben. When we got married.”

  “Yes, we did.” His temper snapped as he came to stand before me. “We swore to trust one another. I know that, but you didn’t ever trust me, did you? Even before Sarah!”

  “What?” I stared at him. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “You never trusted me enough to share your feelings, your emotions. You’re always so closed off, Kloe. It’s like you bolt down everything inside, like your past doesn’t matter and I’m not important enough for you to share that with me.”

  “That’s bullshit!”

  “Is it?” he cried, his face turning red with anger. “All these people you help, that are always more worthy of a piece of you than me, they can’t heal your wounds, Kloe. They can’t help you to move past your own pain until you start to face your own problems.”

  Tears filled my eyes, spilling over onto the hotness of my cheeks as I stood frozen to the spot with the words I knew were the truth.

  “You help them all, don’t you? You think that by helping them come to terms with their pasts that you don’t have to face your own. But what about us? What about the pain I’m in when you wake beside me screaming, sweat dripping off every inch of you? Or when you sit in that Goddamn pantry, stuffing yourself until you’re sick just in case you never taste food again. You think I don’t know about that?”

  I shook my head, backing away.

  “Or the way you make excuses for every fucking slice on your skin, every bruise and new scar? You think I don’t know?”

  “Stop it!”

  “But you know what hurts the most, Kloe?” His voice lowered as he wiped away the devastation that leaked down his face. “Every tear you shed when I would make love to you. Yet you fought it, fought my love! You gave me every orgasm with a piece of your heartache, your pain. Yet you couldn’t ever tell me. You couldn’t ever trust me. And just once I wanted to give pleasure without feeling that damn pain, that feeling of hopelessness.”

  “Well, I’m sorry.” I couldn’t talk properly. The hiccups hurt my already aching chest. “I’m glad Sarah isn’t broken. I’m so happy that you can make her come and smile at the same time.”

  He shook his head. “I didn’t mean that.”

  “But you know what?” I poked at his chest, wanting his heart to hurt as much as mine did. “Those tears every time you were inside me were because I loved you. Because you loved me. Every tear was a tear of happiness, of love. Sex didn’t hurt anymore; sex didn’t make me want to vomit. Sex gave me pleasure instead of sending me into the pit of hell.” Another poke. “That’s what my tears were for.” Another poke. “They were tears of fucking hope. Of love. Of trust.”

  And one final poke.

  “But you ruined that. You took away that pleasure, that love, that faith in another human being.”

  The pain looking back at me through his eyes told me he finally understood.

  “Thank you, Ben. Thank you for five years of loving me, of holding my hand. But I didn’t tell you about my childhood… because I didn’t want to break you along with me. I didn’t want to see that pity in your eyes when you looked at me. I didn’t want to hear your words of comfort every time you slid inside me. Because I wanted you to see who I am, not what I was!”

  “Kloe,” he whispered.

  But it was too late. And for the final time, I closed the front door on a place that had been my safe haven, my sanctuary, and the place that had helped me heal, and then continued to break me more than I had been broken before.

  ANDERSON FROWNED WHEN I HANDED him the sunglasses.

  “The sun will hurt your eyes,” I explained.

  I’ll admit, I was apprehensive. He’d been given the choice of ‘behaving’ or being sedated for the move. For the first time in over twenty years he was to see the outside world. And that could, would, be frightening. But he’d given me his word. Whether I was right to believe him or not remained to be seen. However, his cuffs had been off for an hour and so far, so good.

  When he stared at the glasses with curiosity I took them back and carefully slid them onto his face. As soon as my palm stroked the edge of his cheek his hand shot up and he pressed it to mine. His eyes locked onto mine, silently asking if it was okay to touch me. I nodded, encouraged by his need to feel.

  “You won’t leave me?” His eyes watered with fear, his face paling.

  Softly I smiled and shook my head. “I won’t leave you, I promise.”

  He nodded wildly.

  “It’ll be okay. Anytime you feel scared, or if you’re going to vomit, or anything you’re apprehensive with, you tell me and we’ll sort it.”

  He took a big breath. “Okay.”

  “You ready then?”

  “No,” he answered but smiled, that smile once again devastating me with how beautiful it was. Anderson Cain not only spoke with his eyes but with his smile. Whenever he graced me with it he was giving me a piece of him that not many were privileged with. It gave me his trust, his faith in me, and his courage. And I was so proud of him for that.

  Frank, my colleague at Seven Oaks, was chaperoning, his skill with physically restraining and administering sedation making him the perfect choice for Anderson’s transfer.

  Anderson sat in a wheelchair by my side, Frank behind to push. I was both excited but equally scared that I would let him down, that being outside would be overwhelming and too much for him to cope with.

  As if sensing my anxiety, I sucked in a breath when Anderson slipped his hand into mine. The touch sent my heart rate into the heavens but the nerves in my belly calmed instantly.

  His deep green eyes rose until his piercing stare broke through the emotion that were always hiding inside me. It was like he could read my thoughts, could feel my emotions as potently as his own. I knew from the moment I walked into his hospital room that he connected with me, but I was shocked to learn right then that I also felt that connection to the core of me. My heart beat alongside his, my nerves carried his, and my hope gave him faith. Patients came and went, and yes I always gave them everything of me, yet with Anderson, it was different. New. Unreserved. There was nowhere to hide. He had an uncanny ability to see the real me beneath the façade I painted onto my face ev
ery morning. And I wasn’t sure I was comfortable with that.

  Anderson’s eyes were everywhere as we walked through the hospital, his gaze absorbing everything like he was a starved man, hungry for more and more. His inquisitiveness was good. It showed his willingness to take it all in and process things in his own way.

  But the moment I opened the double doors that led outside, I knew I hadn’t been prepared for the depth of Anderson’s reaction.

  The softest whimper left his parted lips as the breeze rustled his hair and the sun’s warmth fell onto his pale skin.

  “Shit, sunscreen,” I murmured, gaining Frank’s attention but not Anderson’s. He was too enthralled by everything, and as his hand tightened in my own I felt every part of that amazement with him. The sound of the birds, the noise of the traffic, even the wind playing through the branches of the trees. The scent of freshly cut grass tickled our noses as the mouth-watering aroma of fried onions and burgers weaved around us. The spring weather warmed our skin as the cooler breeze played at our hair.

  Anderson’s hand started to shake and I squeezed tighter.

  “I…” he breathed, unable to say what he so wanted to.

  Answering him with a smile and a nod, his own smile broke through as tears rolled down his face, the gentle wind concentrating on each drop of emotion and giving him encouragement that this world, sometimes, was quite beautiful.

  And then the strangest thing happened.

  He laughed.

  He fucking laughed. The sound of it hit me with the power of a sledgehammer. It was so raw, so deep and so full of happiness that my knees wobbled and I had to cling onto the handle of the wheelchair.

  And then I sobbed. For him. With him.

  His transfer went smoothly; Anderson behaving impeccably. He had given me his word and he hadn’t let me down.

  His room at Seven Oaks was a far cry from the plain, drab room at the hospital. The bed was softer, the pillows plumper. The walls were painted a soft green, the shade almost identical to Anderson’s eyes. A couple of canvas prints decorated the large, high walls. A TV and DVD player were situated high on a shelf, out of reach but controllable by remote, and a small sofa sat underneath. Double doors led onto a communal outside area, and the bathroom housed both a bath and a shower. We prided ourselves on the facilities we offered, believing the more comfortable the patient the more relaxed a manner we created. Looking at the bewilderment on Anderson’s face I couldn’t help but take his hand in mine again.