The Bound Bride (15 page)

Chapter Twenty-Two

“I… I was the youngest of two. My sister… my sister was Lily.”

When Oliver spoke her name, Cassandra saw his face soften in ways that she had never even imagined. Cassandra could almost see Lily, or at least her idea of Lily. In Cassandra’s mind, she looked so like Oliver, but slighter and blonder. Fragile yet strong.

“She looked out for me. Walked me to school, helped me with homework, made dinner. She was a lousy cook.”

Oliver laughed at the memory, and Cassandra envisioned him a sulky boy of eight or nine tossing plates of vegetables at the feet of his harried sister. There was something sweet in the tantrum of the child Oliver, and Cassandra believed that Lily ultimately succeeded in convincing Oliver to do the right thing. It was an explanation for his success now. But it also begged the question…

“And where was your mother?”

The query struck a nerve, and Oliver rose from his side and started to pace the room. Cassandra could have leapt up to follow him, grabbed his arms and ease him back to the chaise. At the very least, she could have flinched. But she simply watched him move through his past and waited for his answer.

“My mother,” Oliver started, as if the word was beyond dirty, “left. She said she wasn’t… compatible
with my dad. She said we’d have a better life with him. So she was just gone.”

He finally looked at Cassandra again.

“And she was wrong.”

Cassandra was curious and emboldened enough to keep the dialogue going.

“Wrong how?”

Oliver poured another drink and sipped it as he leaned against the far wall.

“It wasn’t better. He resented us for her leaving.”

He took another drink.

“Resented me really. He was never the same after… so he’d come after me. And Lily. Lily protected me.”

She saw Oliver cowering in corners and shielding his face. And then she saw his brave big sister blocking his small body with the strength of her will. Cassandra suddenly wanted so much to know her and thank
her for that.

“She was a good sister,” Cassandra said.

“You remind me of her. She had green eyes.”

So that was why he had chosen her.

Oliver finished his drink and slid down the wall, his fingers running through his hair.

“She wanted to leave, too. And she did.”

Was that why he was intent on keeping her at his side?

“When… when I was big enough to fight back, or so she thought, she took off with the first safe
thing that came along.”

He snapped his fingers.

“Gone. Just like that.”

What could he have been? Fifteen? Sixteen? Like their mother, Lily had abandoned Oliver.

“She met this guy. He promised to take care of her. That was a change for her. She tried to explain it to me. I… begged her not to go. A lot of good it did.”

Oliver. Alone. With his father. What price had he paid?

“First night she was gone, he beat me until I couldn’t stand. I was out of school for a week. And I swore that I’d never forgive her. It was easy when I didn’t hear a word from her.”

Cassandra’s favorable assessment of Lily was morphing into disgust with each beat of her heart. If she’d gotten out and found something better, then why not send for him? Why not try to take care of him again? Cassandra wasn’t going to follow that lead and push him away. She crawled down from the chaise and inched towards him. She lightly touched the hand about his head and tried to lift his eyes to hers. It was a battle she was fated to lose, so she simply sat at his side and rested her fingers on his thigh.

“So you don’t know what happened to her?”

And then she had his eyes again.

“I know.”

Oliver’s words sent a chill up Cassandra’s spine. She kept all of her gaze on him as she nodded for him to continue.

“She finally sent me a postcard of all things. Handwriting wasn’t hers. But the words… the words…”

He couldn’t speak them. Oliver’s eyes filled with tears, and Cassandra wrapped her arm around his shoulders.

“You can tell me what they were.”

Oliver started to say something. His tears quickly changed into sobs, and he buried his head against her chest. Cassandra knew enough to hold him as tightly as she could. She ran her hands down his back and shushed him with a light kiss atop his head. He continued to cry as Cassandra stroked his head. If it was too much for him to say, she’d just hold him and—

“She was asking for help,” he said.

Cassandra pulled away and forced his face back to hers. She saw him awash in anguish and guilt.

“Help? Why? What happened?”

He wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve.

“It was him.”

Oliver started to retreat into her breast, but Cassandra held his face and silently demanded the entire story.

“Oliver?”

His eyes went wide as he struggled to speak.

“Every girl wants a guy like dear old dad, right? But this… this was worse. He promised that she’d he be happy with him. That he’d take care of her. Lily bought it. She’d have been better off at home. With me. And he… he smacked her senseless when she made one wrong move.”

Oliver looked into her eyes.

“I won’t do that. Okay? I promise. It’s
not
me.”

Cassandra believed him. But it wasn’t the whole story.

“Keep going.”

“I didn’t… I didn’t know how she even got the message out. But… but I was on the next train. My… father told me I shouldn’t waste my time. She… she was… dead to him. And… and when I got there…”

He couldn’t go on. He choked as he slammed the floor with his fists. When Cassandra tried to pull him closer, he left her embrace and was on his feet. He stared down at Cassandra. The remembered rage was tinged with indefinable anguish. Cassandra was on her knees, and she lifted her shaking hands to him.

“When you got there?” she prompted him.

Oliver shook his head and covered his eyes.

“She wasn’t Lily. Not my Lily anyway. She was all bruises and blood. And he...”

Cassandra watched Oliver remember the man who had hurt his sister with murder in his eyes.

“He was snorting coke from a glass coffee table. Happy as a clam. I should have… I should have killed him. But Lily… Lily saw me. She reached for me. So I went to her.”

Cassandra caught hold of his hands.

“That was the right thing, Oliver. You came to her rescue.”

He lifted her up and held her wrists fast. Now Cassandra flinched, but she knew he wouldn’t hurt her.

“
Too late
. She had a piece of glass in her side. I didn’t… I didn’t see the blood until I had her in my arms. I tried to stop it. I couldn’t. Lily… Lily just smiled. And she said… and she said…”

Cassandra held him and leaned in close to his ear.

“What did she say?”

“She said… she felt safe.”

Cassandra tensed as Oliver broke down again and pulled her close.

Everything clicked. Her own words as Trixie Carol had triggered a memory that Oliver buried but still lived with every day of his life. Had no one
else ever asked him for that particular favor? And had he just been waiting for some way to right something that was not his fault?

They sank to the floor. Cassandra had to rub his arms, his chest as his sobs stilled into silence. When he was quiet, Cassandra found his eyes again and touched his face.

“Would she have stayed safe in your father’s house?”

He finally gave her a soft smile.

“I don’t… I would have found a way to keep her safe.”

And she believed that he would have. Maybe. Was his ultimate success and wealth and security a product of what his father had inflicted? Or was it a result of holding his battered sister, dying, in his young arms?

“If… if Lily had stayed home, nothing bad would have ever happened to her.”

Cassandra wanted to reason with him. Danger could not he held back by the sheer force of one’s will. Even if the will was Oliver’s. But he believed in his power enough to propose the house as a kind of fortress in the hope of keeping her safe. Only hours earlier, Cassandra would have seized the first chance to flee and never look back. The new debt was something that she would just have to add to a long list. But now…

Now she couldn’t move.

Oliver did.

He pulled Cassandra close and stroked her face. His lips were soft and sweet as he met her eyes. Cassandra let her lids fall against his kiss and pressed her own mouth to his neck. He cradled her head and whispered into her ear.

“I can’t let it happen again. Not to you. Especially not to you. I know
you now. Can’t you just stay here? Be happy here? I’ll take care of you. You’ll never want for anything. I promise. Just say with me. It’s safe.”

She looked into his eyes again.

And at that moment, she could do nothing but agree.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Cassandra awoke, and for a second she was unsure of where she was. She remembered Oliver kissing her and carrying her back to the room they still shared. He had tenderly stripped her and kissed her with a gratitude he couldn’t put into words after she had given her consent to stay at his side. But maybe that had just been a dream. Maybe she was back in her studio apartment and not in a master bedroom, still a kind of captive to the damaged prince. A part of her relaxed into the thought of being as she was with problems and no solutions. But at least those problems were hers. Oliver and his history of tragedy might just be a nightmare from which she and her first waking moment had escaped.

She regretted leaving even a dream of Oliver there, and she sighed as he turned over and kissed her neck.

His eyes opened. He seemed to slowly register her presence, and he smiled as his lips met her mouth. Cassandra returned his kiss and resigned herself to her role.

At least for now.

“Morning,” he murmured as their lips parted.

She smiled and kissed him again. She was still trapped, but Oliver was a loving chain. She could at least see out the length of the contract and try to prove to him that life outside his walls was not going to send her the way of Lily.

“Good morning,” she said. Oliver wrapped his entire body around her. His arms were strong, his hold stronger, as he traced her cheekbones with his finger.

“I like waking up to you.”

Cassandra nodded and kissed his brow. She liked it, too. She’d make no protest if they stayed like this for hours on end.

Oliver suddenly leapt from the bed. Cassandra pressed the sheet around all of her body, trying to keep his warmth close to her. She watched him start to dress.

“Where… where are you going?” she asked.

“Early meeting,” he said as he affixed his watch to his wrist. “Faye is driving. Jeff will be around if you need anything.”

Had he played her for a fool? Was the story just a fantasy meant to lure her back into his bed?

Oliver dismissed her fears as he sat at her side and kissed her softly.

“I promise that tomorrow I’m all yours. What do you want to do?”

She could say that she wanted to see the town and drop the money he was already handing over in the most foolish manner possible. But she had no desire to tease him when he reached under the sheets and touched her breasts with such care. She pressed her head to his.

“Go for a swim?” she playfully asked.

He returned her smile.

“Liked that?” he asked.

Cassandra nodded, and Oliver kissed her again. His mouth left hers and he held her closer.

“So you’re staying?” he anxiously asked.

Cassandra nodded. He pressed his hands against her arms and reached across the bed to the nightstand nearest to her. He had the yellow diamond on the chain in his hands, and he carefully clasped it about her throat.

“Now everything is back where it belongs.”

He kissed her again and talked of his meeting. Where it would take him and how it would bring him back bearing more gifts. Cassandra didn’t care about the gifts. His return would be enough.

Oliver finished dressing and lingered in the doorway with a smile.

“I’ll see you soon?” he asked.

She nodded.

He was gone with a wink, and Cassandra fell back against the bed as she heard his steps fall down the stairs. She fell asleep and awoke again with the same thoughts.

It was crazy. She was playing a role, and so
much
of her was not up to the task. But maybe playing Oliver’s housemate was the best thing for both of them. She wished he had stayed longer and given her another dream that would still prove real when she ultimately awoke again. She needed a shot of courage.

Iris.

For the first time in days, Cassandra reached for her phone. As she pressed it to life, she was instantaneously seized by the many messages from her friend. For a second, Cassandra forgot Oliver. The missed calls sans messages, were replaced by frantic texts that set Cassandra’s skin on edge.

Cass. Adam.

And.

I’m HERE. I thought I could see you. Adam.”

Then…

He says he wants to know WHO I’m looking for. Who do I KNOW. Cass.”

Cassandra bypassed messages of payment alerts that
Oliver
would see to until she found Iris again.

Help. Briar.

There was nothing else. Cassandra remembered the marks on Iris’s neck and ultimately associated them with the fate of Lily. She pulled on her jeans and a blue sweater before racing down the steps. For the first time in as long as she could remember, she burst from the house. The light hurt her eyes. And then she saw Jeff polishing one of the cars in a white tee and jeans. He smiled when he saw her, then dropped his sponge and tried to push her back into the house.

“Miss Dodd! You’re not supposed—”

Cassandra grabbed his wrist.

“I know. But, Jeff. It’s important.
Briar
. What does that mean?”

She watched him register the meaning in an instant.

“Briar Bed and Breakfast? It’s like five miles from here.”

Jeff’s eyes widened.

“But you have
to stay here. He said—”

It didn’t matter
now
.

“Take me there. Now.”

Jeff took her hands in his as he shook his head.

“Miss Dodd—”

She swatted his hands away.

“Cassandra. And my friend needs my help. Now drive me or I’ll walk.”

Jeff was sweating. He quickly nodded as he opened the back door and ushered her into the car. Cassandra gripped the handle as Jeff trembled and sped away from the house.

Stephens’ Point was quaint and colonial and just waiting to be explored. On another day, Cassandra would have left the car and set out to satisfy her curiosity. But now the word
Briar
was the only thing that played across her brain.

Jeff pulled up to Briar Bed and Breakfast. She left the car. Jeff was at her heels as Cassandra cornered the desk clerk, who seemed shocked and bemused by her stance in equal turns.

“Can I help—”

“Iris Perry. Her room!”

The desk clerk moved and clicked his keyboard with many an anxious gaze into Cassandra’s determined face. When she saw he was having no luck, she cried out Adam’s name.

“Last name?” the desk clerk asked.

She didn’t know it. Iris had failed to share that bit of crucial information. Cassandra didn’t even know if Iris was here.
Briar
was all she had to go on and—

A crash rang out from upstairs.

Cassandra moved up the steps like a woman possessed and followed the scream that was painfully familiar. She opened a door already ajar and saw Iris cowering in a corner with a busted lip and a tear-stained face. Cassandra felt that she was channeling the Oliver that dwelled in his memory, and she helped Iris up and started to lead her out of the room.

“Iris. What—?”

Iris started to cry, and Cassandra folded her under her arm and started to lead her to the doorway.

Then Adam appeared.

Cassandra had only heard of him, but all of Iris’s adjectives rang wrong as she saw him smirking and sweating in the face of Cassandra’s stance. She pushed Iris behind her and gave him all of her eyes.

Adam closed the door.

“So. You must be the friend. How about you take us back to the homestead?”

He pointed at Iris.

“She doesn’t know where it is. But I bet you do. How about it?”

Cassandra kept Iris as far away from him as he could. Iris fell to the bed, and Cassandra faced Adam. She raised her hand. Adam caught her wrist, and Cassandra sank to the floor.

“Take your hands off of me!”

When he was near enough, she stretched her leg out and kicked his shin. Adam doubled over, and Cassandra reached back for Iris. They started to run from the room when Adam recovered to a point where he slammed the door and stopped their intended exit. Cassandra held Iris’s hand as Adam laughed. She tried the knob, and Adam gripped her wrist. He pulled her away from Iris and slammed her into the wall. Cassandra winced at the blow and closed her eyes. When they opened again, she saw Jeff entering the room. He lifted Iris off the floor but still started towards her. Cassandra saw Iris out of the room and knew what to do next.

She formed a fist and slammed it into Adam’s face. He buckled briefly and swiftly recovered to the point where he could press her against the wall again. Cassandra hissed at the impact and tried to keep from slipping to the floor. Cassandra stood as tall as she could and pushed him back. Adam went down, his body smashing through a coffee table and against a bureau. She turned back to Iris.

“Cass, I’m—”

“Not now. We’re leaving.”

She pressed Iris closer to Jeff’s arms. He held her gently as Iris burst into a new set of tears. Cassandra started to push them into the hallway when she felt a hand at her head.

Adam was back, and he roughly pulled Cassandra back into the room by her hair. She was being dragged across the floor, and Adam lifted her to his feet. His eyes were wild as he grabbed her face.

“Who do you think
you
are?”

“Her friend,” Cassandra spat. “What are—?”

He slapped her. Hard. Cassandra fell and reached for her face. She shuddered at the thought of another blow when Jeff appeared in her line of sight.

“Get off her!” he screamed. Jeff pulled Adam away and threw him against the window. Adam hit the glass and slid down like a bug on a windshield before he collapsed to the floor. Jeff moved forward and kicked his side for good measure. Adam held his hand s up in fear of more. Jeff left him moaning on the floor and helped Cassandra to her feet. She wiped a stray strand of hair from her face.

“You okay, Miss Dodd?”

Cassandra nodded and sneered in Adam’s direction. She should have known she should have understood what was happening. Even before Oliver’s sad story. But Iris was on her feet, trembling in the doorway. Cassandra grabbed Jeff’s arm and started to her side.

Jeff stopped Cassandra’s stride and turned her face to him.

“My God.”

“What?”

“Your eye!”

Cassandra lifted her fingers to her face. When she held them before her, she could see a small trickle of blood sliding down to her palm. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the bathroom door, open, and she charged forward and hastily flicked the light switch.

She was met with her reflection in the glass.

A bruise was just beginning to form across her cheekbone. The skin was red and throbbing. She knew that it would turn purple with each passing moment. And there was a tear just below her eye. Her blood was staining her cheek, and Cassandra reached for tissues. She pressed them to her in face in an effort to stop the stream.