Caged Eagles (8 page)

“I thought you would say that. Babe, you're in no position to treat me like dirt. I'm the glue holding everything together. If you ever want to see the lovely Tobian again you'll shut up and listen. I told Leslie all that information to get your attention. Obviously that didn't work, so I will have to resort to plan B.”

“What are you planning and what do you want?”

“All in good time, but to make sure you do what I want when that time comes I have more information for you.” She glanced up at the clock on the wall. “I need to get to my hair appointment soon, so I'll have to lay all my cards out. I told Tobian I would find out information for a price. She agreed because her parents have blackmailed her that you'll be 'taken care of.'” She used air quotes with her long red fingers. “I'm not sure if that means killed or moved to a far-off island with pygmies; but she wants to know if she should give up on you. I think she is being blackmailed by her parents to be with this other guy. Sounds like he's a rich family friend.”

“I think you're lying. Sarah would know I still love her.” Trevor was sure Brandi was bluffing.

“Maybe I am, maybe I'm not. To ensure you think real hard about your decision in the next three weeks, before I come back, I have another quick fact to tell you. When I heard about the stabbing I went to the hospital. I was glad to find out the media had been wrong and you weren't dead. Obviously, to my surprise and delight, I met Forrest. He is so sexy. I started to visit him every day. To my utter enjoyment he didn't realize I was your ex and he still doesn't know. He got out of the hospital with a sling for his shoulder where he was stabbed, and we can't get enough of each other. He is the one that insisted I keep the red curls.” She touched her hair again.

“You're pure evil,” Trevor yelled, slamming his fist down on the table. Brandi jumped, but relaxed again when the managers quickly gripped his arms and shoulders. He could feel the cold taser through his navy blue T-shirt.

“Think about it.” She threw her small jacket over her shoulder and walked off.

Trevor had been angry before, but the fire inside him was rekindled. BrandiLewis had tried to destroy him once, and now here she was doing it again. It made him almost sick to his stomach recalling everything she had told him. The very next day he met with Burns and insisted it was time to fight to get out of rehab. He was informed that he needed Dr. Taylor's signature to be freed.

Trevor needed advice. Blaine was well equipped for this task, having an impartial perspective. Trevor explained everything to him. Blaine nodded.

“I agree you need to get out somehow.”

“The only problem is Brandi,” Trevor complained. “She made sure Leslie Taylor would never sign my release papers and my lawyer is an idiot; Sarah's parents made sure of that.”

“Most likely Mr. Burns is a lost cause, and getting extra money from Mike Morrison to keep you in here.”

“See, it's pointless.” Trevor's shoulders slumped and he felt defeated.

“Not entirely. Dr. Taylor is your other option.” Blaine held his palm out as if he weighed the options in his hands.

“How, she hates me?”

“No, she's discouraged because you show no signs of improvement. Leslie Taylor's the type of person that expects to succeed with each patient. You're a challenge and that intrigues her, maybe even more than just on paper? Have you ever wondered what a little progress and charm could do?” Blaine's eyes were solid and steady as he revealed this idea to Trevor.

“I never thought of that. Blaine Martin, you're a genius!”

“Don't get too excited yet.” He held his hand up to caution Trevor. “You'll have to play it cool with her. She probably isn't going to let you off the hook right away.”

“You don't know how smooth I can be.” Trevor's eyes danced with enthusiasm and anticipation for his next therapy session.

Blaine shook his head and replied, “I hope you're right.”

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Pain pulsed from his elbow and down his arm. All eight fingers and two thumbs twitched and he wondered if they would go numb. He felt peaceful comfort for brief seconds between shards of agony. Since his arrival at the hospital the medical staff had ordered him to wait in line despite the amount of blood covering his arm. They had given him a large cotton like cloth to hold firmly over it.

The rest of the waiting room was filled with coughing, sneezing, pale sufferers. An elderly man shuffled into the room on the arm of his wife. With his left hand he protected his weak, failing heart. Right away the nurses pushed him into a wheelchair and down the hall.

“Trevor Wells.”

Trevor turned his head in the other direction and stood. The nurse took a couple of steps down the hallway but paused to look over her shoulder and make sure Trevor followed her. The doctor was already in the examination room.

“Let's take a look at your elbow.” The doctor pulled the bloody wrapping away from his arm. “Hmm … looks like we'll have to get this cleaned up first. Nurse.”

The doctor stood and left the room while the nurse took his seat. She dabbed at his elbow to clear the fresh blood. The disinfectant cleared away the rest that had dried. As if by intuition, the doctor walked in.

“That looks better.”

He took his seat again and gently rolled Trevor's elbow toward him. Fresh blood poured out of the wound. The doctor reached for the counter and grabbed a large cotton ball to dab the redness obstructing his view.

“I'll have to stitch your elbow, but I'm afraid to do too much in case there is damage to the tendon. It doesn't appear like there's extensive damage, though you will have one unsightly scar.”

“How can we find out for sure?”

“You could see a specialist.” The doctor scooted away from Trevor.

Trevor held clean bandages over his elbow. “Is there one here today?”

The doctor shook his head regretfully. “She's out today.”

“What am I suppose to do?”

The same nurse peeked her head into the crack of the door. “Dr. Morales, Mrs. Schmidt is having leg pains again and the Becker twins are back in.”

“Is the pain worse in Mrs. Schmidt's left leg?”

“Yes and Dr. Lynch went across town to help with the quadruplet birth so Mr. Moretti is in exam room five with chest pains.”

Dr. Morales moaned and looked at his watch. “Tell Mr. Moretti I'll be there in a moment.”

“I don't mean to pressure you,” the nurse's voice grew timid. “There's sixteen other patients in the waiting room.”

“Walk-in's?”

“No, there's at least thirty walk-in's that Trixie is trying to get health insurance paperwork completed before they see a doctor.”

The doctor rubbed a hand over his face and suddenly looked ten years older. The blood had begun to seep through Trevor's bandages.

“Mr. Wells, will you please excuse me.” He rose and left the room and for the next ten minutes Trevor watched the blood penetrate the entire handful of gauze. A different doctor entered the room and sat down.

“Oh my, that's getting out of hand.” He pulled the bloody rags away and tossed them into the trash.

I've been bleeding to death in here.”

“I'm so sorry Mr. Wells. If you would like I can stitch this up for you.”

“The other guy said I needed to see a specialist.”

The doctor took his arm and moved the elbow joint in every direction. “Does that hurt?”

“No, but that doesn't mean much does it?”

“The tendon is not damaged. I am confident we can sew this right up and have you on your way. Which option do you prefer?”

Trevor watched more blood ooze out of the wound. “Stitch it up.”

The doctor searched in Trevor's eyes for doubt. His gaze was steady and determined. The doctor stood up and opened a drawer to find a needle. The fresh blood still flowed freely. The physician wiped as much away as possible while he sewed the wound. Not until after did Trevor realize the inefficient job the doctor had done.

After Trevor had been medically tended to he was thrown into a holding room. One of the officers interrogated him about the afternoon. Trevor told the detective exactly what had happened. The officer left him alone in the room for fifteen minutes. The next person to walk through the door was the lawyer hired to represent him. He was a middle-aged man who forgot to put on deodorant. The stain covered both armpits. He took Trevor to an examination room and made him repeat detail after detail of the incident. The man, Mr. Burns, typed vigorously on his laptop as Trevor spoke. Burns left the room twice. Once to use the urinals down the hall and again to find out when Trevor's trial would be. To their surprise, it would be held in two day's time. This only made Burns panic. The plump man scurried from the room, muttering about his lack of time to prepare.

Trevor was finally released and allowed to call Sarah. Hours later he was back in a holding cell. He spent the time trying to understand the reasons for the restraining order. His thinking was interrupted by a court official bring him a razor and suit to prepare for the trial.

The store clerk made one wide circle around him when they crossed paths outside the courtroom door. Trevor was seated on the left side of the room, in front of the judge.

“Case number 858 is called to order. Both sides stand to be addressed.”

Trevor stood and folded both hands together. He looked around the courtroom. Burns still wasn't there.

“Mr. Wells, where is your counsel?”

“I don't know, Your Honor.” Trevor looked around again in hopes the man would appear. “I haven't seen him all morning.”

“I'm here!” He rushed into the room and to Trevor's side. He leaned against the table and coughed.

“Are you alright?” the judge looked down at his paperwork. “Mr. Burns.”

He breathed heavily. “Yes, I'll be fine.”

“Being late does not bode well for you,” The judge lectured.

“Yes, I'm terribly sorry.”

The judge turned in his chair. “Bailiff, please address the court.”

“All stand,” the bailiff held a small pamphlet. “Do you all swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?”

“I do,” the plaintiff and defendants both answered.

“This oath is held by plaintiff, defendant, witnesses, and the court system of the United States of America to honorably and accurately report the facts.”

“Thank you, bailiff.” The judge shifted in his chair to find a comfortable position.

“Witnesses have already had their statements taken earlier this morning. Mr. Burns, please begin.”

“Thank you, Your Honor. I would like to call Trevor Wells to the witness stand.”

Trevor stood up and went to the front of the court. His lawyer questioned him for the third time. The prosecutor did her best to twist Trevor's story. She indirectly accused him of associating with the robber. Trevor left the witness stand with a headache. The judge called a short recess to go over the case. Fifteen minutes later he had decided his verdict.

The judge straightened in his chair and shuffled through his paperwork.

“I see here a restraining order has been issued against you recently, Mr. Wells.”

“What?!” Burns hissed at him. Trevor shook his head. He had forgotten to tell Burns about the restraining order during the break because of the pain pounding in his head.

“I know, but I don't understand.”

The judge held the paperwork up. “It's right here. A Miss Morrison issued the order a few days ago.”

“May I approach the bench, Your Honor?” Mr. Burns walked up to the front of the room to examine the order. When he returned to his seat he whispered to Trevor. “Why didn't you tell me this?”

“I would have if you cared to show up earlier this morning. Anyway, Sarah would never do this.”

“I'll find out, keep your temper under control.” The man was strict for the first time.

The judge pounded his gavel again. “I have decided in my ruling. Mr. Wells, you claim you were at the wrong place at the wrong time. The other witness reported otherwise. According to the evidence it appears you were associated with the robbery and things went wrong between you and your partner. I also find this restraining order distressing news. I think some time in East Denver's Rehabilitation Facilities will be beneficial.”

“This can't be! What evidence does this case have except the testimony of a coward!” Trevor slammed a fist down on the table. The judge glared at him.

“This is my courtroom and my ruling! Bailiff, please take Mr. Wells to a holding room and prepare him to be transferred to East Denver's Facilities.”

The judge pounded his gavel against the block with added force.

“I'll do what I can.” Burns' words meant nothing. Trevor's anger blinded him. He spit in Burns' face. The six-foot-five bailiff grabbed him tightly by the arms and pushed him out of the room.

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If Trevor's plan succeeded today, this would be the performance of his life. Not only would he fool Leslie, but Brandi as well. She would be blindsided. This was the last thing she would ever suspect. Trevor sat down and watched Dr. Taylor enter the room. Right away she set herself in the professional manner he had seen so often.

“Mr. Wells, I will have your prescription of pills in our next session. We were unable to get them in before today.” She grabbed her clipboard from the edge of the desk, leaned forward to reach for a pen and walked to her seat opposite Trevor.

“I would like to discuss ….”

“Yes, I loved her. I hung onto her for so long. I didn't want to accept the restraining order. Sarah had given up on me. Women in my life have always ….”

Trevor looked up from the floor to see Dr. Taylor's reaction. He began to talk again, hopeful she'd remain silent but attentive.

“I didn't want to accept what you have been saying. It's hard for people to admit the truth about their lives. If I could go back I would choose not to love them. It was dangerous for me too; but something had drawn me to them. I couldn't help that I cared for them.”

Leslie swallowed and took a deep breath before gently replying. “Yes, it's true, people can't help who they fall in love with.”

“I put up barricades around my feelings and use humor to protect myself from those I think can hurt me the most.” Trevor really thought he had become a sap even saying those words, but he knew that was what Dr. Taylor wanted to hear.

He continued, “That is the most honest truth, Doctor. Please don't put me on meds, let me remain the man I am. Those pills will change me.” He held her gaze with a pleading look.

“You use humor … in here a lot,” she almost whispered.

“Yes.”

Silence ensued.

“Mr. Wells, I ….” Dr. Taylor stood to go to her desk but Trevor reached out and grabbed her wrist.

“Leslie,” he softly spoke her name. “Life is hard and things are not always what one may see … hear … or even believe.” He pressed his hand firmly into hers.

“Why are you telling me all of this?” The level of her voice rose slightly. Her professional façade vanished for a few passing seconds. The slight hold her fingers had on the back of his hand tightened.

“I've been thinking about what you said the last time we talked. I honestly didn't know you cared so much.”

She pulled her hand slowly out of his. “I'm very grateful you have decided to open up to me. Let's now continue being open and start today's session.”

She sat down and began organizing the papers on her clipboard. Trevor watched her; he guessed she was a perfectionist by nature. Her apartment was probably similar to her office, orderly and unemotional. He wondered who Leslie really was, lively and humorous or dangerous and controlling?

“Are you going to answer my question?”

Trevor jolted back into reality, “Ah … . ”

“What were you thinking about?”

“You, what you're like outside these walls maybe out on the town.”

“Mr. Wells, that isn't an appropriate question or topic.” She had a tinge of pink in her fair face.

“Don't you ever get sick of saying Mr. Wells?”

“Um.”

“I can see in the back of your eyes you want to say Trevor.” He smiled and Dr. Taylor mirrored his action.

“That would be unprofessional. Now tell me what your relationship with your mother was like.”

“Typical I guess, I don't know.”

“Explain to me what she was like.”

“A mother, you know I can't really say.”

“Why? If it's difficult just take your time.”

“No, I just don't see the point in any of this.”

Her lips pursed together and she looked angry. “Two minutes ago you were opening up to me about your thoughts. Have you changed your mind?”

“No, what I mean is, what's the use if I'm going on pills in a couple days. I'll be spouting off anything you want to hear after that. Will I ever be the same man? Will I ever get to leave?”

“That is my hope for you, Mr. Wells.”

“Then why not let me go now before all these pills screw up my mind. You know who I am and why I'm here. I'm a smart mouth, I don't like talking about my feelings, and I pick the wrong kind of women. I'm only in here right now because of a coincidence and a lazy judge.” Trevor paused and for the first time ever Dr. Taylor was speechless. The silence lasted longer than Trevor had hoped for. This was the point where he would know if he would be leaving or not. He watched her like a hawk; her eyes looked down at the clipboard and remained frozen there.

“Mr. Wells,” she let his name roll over her tongue slowly and she shook her head. “I'm so sorry. I wish it were that easy. That is a beautiful speech you made, but I'm afraid it was just manipulation on your part.”