Villain, page 30
“I wish he didn’t pretend.”
“He was protecting himself. He’s had casual girlfriends before, but he wasn’t serious about any of them. Not until you.”
“I’ve never seen him with a girlfriend.” I’ve only heard the conquests through the wall.
“The longest one he broke up with before starting university. She was going to Scotland.”
Good, she can stay there.
“I must be the most blind person on the planet. I had no idea about any of this.”
She laughs, and we get out of the car. “You’re not blind, Ainsley. He’s very good at acting.”
Penelope lets us into the house and leads me to a room off the foyer. I spot the table just before I follow her: the place I was arrested. That feels like a lifetime ago.
She flicks the light on and turns to me. “This is Casper’s office. Well, it’s a study, really, but he wants to sound more important than he is. Dad gave it to him when he got into uni. Not sure why since he was moving, but I guess he needed somewhere to work, and his bedroom is hardly big enough.”
I move deeper into the room. Facing me is a large oak desk with a high-back, black chair, as well as a whiskey decanter. Ever the professional.
“Why are you showing –” As I turn back to her, I gasp, spotting the reason she brought me here.
On the wall opposite a rather large desk is a framed photo of me.
I step closer, and that’s when I see a bowl on the side table beneath the picture. In it is one of my coil hairbands, a wristband from a festival we all went to—one that Casper and I argued the entire weekend at—a black beaded bracelet I thought I’d lost at one of their parties, and a broken keyring I’d once had on my keys in the halls.
“Oh,” I mutter. “He kept this stuff.” I look up at myself on the wall. His panic to get me out of the house in case I snuck around and saw this makes sense now. He wouldn’t explain it, either. Probably because we had just started seeing each other, and let’s be real, this is kind of insane. Nothing will make someone run for the hills like having their photo on your wall and random old crap they once owned sitting in a bowl. Or it should. I’m not running because I’m equally as obsessed with him.
All of this is me. Little pieces of me. I feel the stitches on my heart mending lacerations from every horrible thing he’s ever said or done to me. I reach out and touch each item. Memories of times we’d been horrible to each other stare back at me—ones that mean so much to him that he kept them safe.
Penelope gets a phone call while I pick up the bracelet. These few things are all he had of me. When you get so little of someone, you take whatever you can. This is his whatever. Random junk I had forgotten about.
“What do you mean?”
Penelope’s tone pulls my attention back to her.
I turn to see her ashen face and teary eyes.
She lowers her phone. “Ainsley, that was my mum. The hospital called. Come on, we need go right now.”
My legs turn to jelly.
No.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
I can’t focus, and I can’t think rationally. Dante was wrong about his nine circles of Hell bullshit; I’ve visited more than a thousand of them since this morning. Hell isn’t physical torture, it’s someone you love being hurt.
“What did your mum say specifically?” I ask, needing confirmation.
“That he’s taken a turn for the worse.”
Red-hot pain pierces through my chest. “A turn for the worse, how?”
“I-I don’t know, Ainsley. I don’t know.”
He stopped breathing. His heart stopped beating. What? What the fuck is it?
Don’t they have machines to do all of that for a person now, though? They could put him on one of those until he’s stronger. Why would we need to prepare for anything?
There is no amount of preparation that could ever make you ready to say goodbye to a loved one. Absolutely none. All I can do is hold on and hope I won’t have to.
How many times today have people told me that he’s strong and will make it?
The lies we tell ourselves have a nasty habit of creeping up and reminding us that we have no control over anything. Eventually, we have to face the bitter truth, and I’m so scared that I’m going to walk into that hospital and have to face my worst nightmare.
Penelope channels her brother and drives like a maniac until we hit bumper-to-bumper traffic.
“Come on!” she shouts. “Fucking move!”
Honking the horn, she sticks her finger up at a car that cuts in front of us at the traffic lights, causing us to stop and wait for the next green light.
I slowly sink into myself, the pull of numbness a sweet release from the torment of thinking that Casper is going to die. When I was eleven and my mum left me for the second time, after promising to do better and sticking around for two months, I tried to push everyone away. It was much easier than admitting to myself that it hurt. Losing Casper forever would kill me. I don’t want to feel a thing.
It takes us almost forty-five minutes to make the twenty-minute journey, and I wish I’d never left the café. I’m holding on by a thread, desperately trying to distance myself but not being able to think about anything other than how much I need him.
He’s impossible to forget.
Penelope finds a parking space almost immediately, a rarity, and we run into the hospital, the long corridors like bright tunnels.
With my heart in my mouth, I approach a wrecked-looking Flora and Frederick.
They stand huddled together, her head on his shoulder, and tears in her eyes. Frederick is so pale, he looks in a worst condition than Casper was.
Frederick looks up and spots us running towards him. “It’s all right,” he says, raising a hand. “We couldn’t reach you again. His heartrate dropped considerably and they were worried he had some internal bleeding, but he’s stabilised and is doing better now.”
“What?” I sob. “You’re sure? Are you sure?”
“He’s all right.”
“Oh, thank God,” Penelope breathes, pressing her hand to her heart.
“Really?” I ask.
“He’s okay,” Frederick repeats. “We’ve been in his room and he’s doing well. He’s fluttered his eyes, and we thought he was going to wake up. I’m sure it won’t be long before he’s awake.”
“Why did it happen?”
Flora shrugs. “We don’t know. It was a blip. A short moment when his heart wasn’t happy. He’s stable now, Ainsley, I promise.”
I takes a second to let the words sink in. Casper is alive. I repeat that over and over again until I finally believe it.
I should never have left his side.
“Can we go in?” I ask. “Please tell me they’re not going to make me wait. I have to—”
“Of course, you can,” Flora says.
I don’t know how we can, but perhaps it’s the same way things just seem to happen for them. The same way I was arrested and then let go.
“I’ll go with Mum and Dad for a quick coffee, then be up after,” Penelope says.
I love her for giving me a minute alone with him. It’s probably not going to be pretty. I can already feel my emotions building up like a pressure cooker, and I don’t think I’ll be able to hold back when I see his chest rising and falling.
Twice today, I thought he was going to die. I’m not sure I could take a third time.
The nurse waves me by as I head into ICU. She’s the one who checked on Casper earlier, and she clearly recognises me.
I push open the door and rush to his side, my feet carrying me forwards with a life of their own. My body, as always, longs to be beside him. He looks much the same as earlier, but he has a little more colour in his cheeks now.
Sitting on the bed, I run my hands through the mop of messy hair on top of his head. I use my free hand to wipe away a stream of tears that roll continuously down my cheek.
Sobbing with the relief at having this perfect man still here with me, I curl in as if my spine is no longer able to keep me upright. “Casper,” I whisper, my forehead resting on his shoulder.
The intoxicating scent of his skin fills my lungs, and I close my eyes.
“Casper, I’m here. You need to get better now, okay. I don’t think I can take another scare like that.” My voice cracks with emotion. I kiss his chest and sit up to check if I can see his eyes fluttering the way Frederick and Flora did.
Please, Casper.
“I’m not going anywhere. No more space… I’ve had enough of that. It’s you and me now. Working our shit out by talking… or probably yelling, but no more running. If you could wake up, I think I’d be able to breathe easier. Help me out here.”
Stroking my fingers through the silky strands of his black hair, I watch for any sign that he can see or feel me.
“I got straight out of bed and into Freya’s car. I can’t imagine how rough I look, though I’m probably not as pale as you. Pretend I’ve just made a ghost joke—one you’ve not heard before.”
His fingers twitch, and I gasp, sitting up straight.
“Casper? Hey, can you hear me?” I lean over and kiss his cheek. “I’m here. Come on, I need to see those eyes.”
Fingers squeeze around my hand, and I know he can hear me, even if he can’t look at me yet.
“Casper,” I whisper, half laughing, half sobbing. I probably sound like I belong in a straitjacket. “You have no idea how good it is to feel you squeeze my hand again. I thought I’d lost you—”
With a low groan, like he’s trying to talk, his eyes gently flick open. He tries three times before he finally regains control.
“Hi,” I say, stroking his jaw and sobbing like a baby again, my heart flying. “You’re okay. You’re really okay.”
“Who are you?” he croaks.
I’m instantly frozen, the horror of his words sending a shiver down my spine.
What the hell?
I open my mouth to say something, only to close it when I realise that I have no words. He doesn’t remember me.
Seconds pass as I try to process this new information. I was petrified that he would die. Never did I imagine that his memory could be affected.
“Casper. It’s me. Ainsley.”
His smirk brings out that dimple. “Yeah, I know, sweetheart.”
“Are you kidding me?” I growl.
He chuckles and then winces. What the hell is wrong with him? I’m not even sorry that laughing hurt him—he deserved it. His hand tenderly covers the bandage over his stomach.
“That’s not funny! I was so relieved you’re alive, then I thought you’d lost your memory.”
“Ainsley,” he rasps.
My name is a prayer on the end of his tongue, like he didn’t think he would see me again, either. I’m not letting him off that lightly. No one can infuriate me the way he can.
“No. How could you even think that was funny? I was petrified you were going to die.” I stifle a sob and wipe my tears away. “You don’t know how that feels.”
“Ainsley.”
“Shut up, you absolute—”
“I love you.”
That stops me dead.
Those three little words I wasn’t sure I would ever hear again. They wrap around me as tightly as he holds me.
“Casper,” I whisper, wiping another tear. “I love you, too.”
He closes those eyes again, only for a second, my declaration meaning as much to him as it does to me.
“You don’t know how good it feels to hear that.”
“I think I have some idea. Oh God, I need to message your parents and Penelope. They’re here, just getting a drink in the cafeteria to give me some time with you. I’ve been a mess. More than last night. Way more, actually. We need a no more BS rule going forwards. What? Why are you smirking at me again?”
“You’re even more stunning when you’re rambling. I have everything I need right here,” he says, squeezing my hand.
“They’re your family. They were as scared as me.”
“You’re family.”
“Yes, but I’m still messaging them.”
“Go ahead. Just kiss me first.”
I oblige because there’s nothing in this world that I want to do more than kiss him right now. His soft lips drink me in, the kiss sweet and tender but full of raw emotion and relief.
“Casper,” I murmur against his lips. “I need to get the nurse, too.”
“I’m fine now.”
Okay, he definitely doesn’t care enough about his own health.
I pull away and sit back, causing him to groan. “Come back. I’ve just been stabbed, and I need you.”
“Do not sit up,” I warn as he tries to push himself upright. “You just said it yourself, you have stab wounds. If you move, I swear I will not talk to you for a week.”
He laughs, wincing at the same time again. “Yeah, and I can feel the stab wounds. Besides, you just said no more BS, so you can’t ignore me for a week.”
“Smartarse.”
I press the call button to get the nurse.
“I’m sorry about the event,” he croaks.
“Don’t. That doesn’t matter.”
“It does.”
“Yeah, okay, but we’re tabling it for now. When you’re home, we’ll talk. Do you remember what happened?”
“Not really. I was coming out of the gym… No, I was going in. I remember pain and the fear that I would never see you again, but nothing else. You were the last thing I saw. I know now that it wasn’t real. But through the pain, there was you, smiling down at me, willing me, no demanding me, to hold on. If I didn’t love you so much, I don’t know if I would be here right now.”
“Fuck, Casper. I’m sorry I sent you away when you came to me.”
He shakes his head. “I’m the one who owes the apology. You don’t need rescuing, I understand that. Sitting by and watching you work your arse off just to pay for uni and to live wasn’t easy. You earned that job, though, sweetheart. You’ve earned everything you have. I’m so proud of you.”
I nod. “Imani and Freya said that I earned it, too… and we’re not supposed to be worrying about that right now.”
“What do you believe?”
The nurse pops in at that moment, so I step back and text his family. It must be around five minutes since he woke up, and I meant to do it straight away but he’s very distracting.
“What do you believe?” he asks again when the nurse leaves after checking him over.
“Look, I don’t like what you did, but I do believe you thought you were doing the right thing. All of the shit you did was before we got together, so I can let go of that. It doesn’t matter anymore, but I do need full transparency going forwards. No more lies and no more games. If anything like that happens again, I’m out.”
He nods.
“I mean it. From this second, this is real, Casper. I can’t worry what you’re up to behind my back, so you need to be straight up. If you’re worried about me, speak up. If you don’t want me to go somewhere or do something, speak up. I mean, no guarantees I won’t still do it, but I need to know how you feel. Let me in.”
He smiles so brightly that my heart skips a beat. “That sounds good to me. You know, I’ve always admired my parents’ marriage. They didn’t have parenting young children figured out, but they have always been a team through everything. I want that. There is nothing off-limits. We talk, all the time. You’re going to be so sick of me talking.”
“I doubt that.”
“Promise me something, though, sweetheart.”
“Anything.”
“In the bedroom, you’ll still call me a bastard.”
Laughing, I nod in agreement. “That I can do.”
“Casper!” Flora bursts into the room with tears flowing down her cheeks.
I try to move away but Casper holds my hand tightly. All I can do is shuffle farther down the bed so that his mum can hug him.
“Hello, Mum.”
“Darling, you frightened us to death. Don’t ever do that again.”
“I’m sorry. I’m fine now, as you can see, and I’ll try not to be on the pointy end of a knife again.”
“Not funny,” I say. “The nurse has been. They’re going to redress his bandages later and someone will remove the wires soon, but aside from that, they’re going to let him rest and do the usual checks.”
Flora nods and moves to the chair beside the bed. Casper isn’t letting me go so there’s nowhere else for anyone to sit next to him on the bed. None of us want to be on the side where all the wires are bunched.
“The police called while we were in the cafeteria,” Frederick says.
All eyes are suddenly on him.
“I have a contact at the station who heard that a man who was drugged to his eyeballs had been picked up this morning. He was covered in blood splatter, muttering incoherently about someone named Katie.”
My face falls, and a shudder ricochets down my back.
No, this was him. Oh my God. My dad attacked Casper. He and my mum couldn’t get what they wanted from my house, from his house, from me, so that bastard took revenge. That withheld call in the early hours was probably my mum.
My father went from doing drugs and breaking into houses to trying to murder the man I love.
“Don’t do that,” Casper says. He squeezes my hand to get my attention. “Ainsley, don’t. This is not your fault.”
“Well, of course it’s not her fault,” Flora says. “No one is blaming her.”
“Wait, Mum. You know who Katie is, don’t you?” Penelope asks.
“Yes, she’s my mum,” I mutter. “Casper, I’m so sorry I–”
“Do not apologise,” he says. His voice is firm and authoritative, but it’s also calm and reassuring, like he wants to protect me.
“Your mum did this?” Frederick asks, his eyes wide in disbelief. “Are you sure?”
Casper tries to sit up and winces.
“Will you stop that?” I tell him, pressing my hand to his chest to prevent him from moving. His eyes become fire at my touch. Now is not the time. I try to pull my hand away, but he covers it with his own, keeping me as close as we can get right now.
“This isn’t her fault,” he repeats, then addresses his family. “You know that her mum and dad aren’t in her life.”
