Chef

by Throsby, Lynda

  I want to gain her trust, and I want to help her get over whatever is haunting her. I want to nurture her through it all. Wow, who is this guy and what has happened to the cocky, arrogant asshole, Caspian? Since when have I given a rat’s ass about anyone's feelings or wanted to help anyone — erm that would be never. This isn’t me at all, but I fucking love Macen Donald.

  I blow out a breath. I’m not going to march in there and declare my undying love for her. I turn and get in the car and head home.

  I'm running through Central Park after just waking up from another fucking nightmare and soaking wet with sweat. Each one gets more graphic — it's like now I've read about it all, I'm reliving it. I don't know if I remember what happened to me or if it's just because of what I've read happened to me, but the dreams terrify me. I have images of this odd couple, leering and hovering above me, but then I see Reid in the same room, which looks like a child's bedroom, but Macen is on the floor, curled up in a ball. It's like my nightmares are intertwining with each other. This is happening every night now. I'm going to go to my doctor and see if he can prescribe anything for me. I'm not seeing a fucking shrink, that's for sure.

  It’s still early, and the sun is only just starting to rise. I’m just entering the Willowdell Arch on 67th St when I feel something hit my shoulder. It hurt. I stop, look down and see blood — what the fuck was that — all I see are stones on the path. I’m bent over, looking at the stones when I feel pain.

  I’m on the floor, face down in the dirt, my head is hurting, and I can hear someone speaking. I try to get up. “Don’t move, sir, you’ve got a head injury. The paramedics are en-route.” What's he talking about? I try to get up but fall back down, my head is killing me, and so is my shoulder. “Sir, they won't be long, just hold on. You have a nasty gash on the back of your head.” I stay still. I don’t want to move, but I’m also freezing. I remember running and entering the archway when something hit my shoulder and made me bleed, but I don’t remember anything after that. I hear sirens getting closer — getting louder, and they’re hurting my head. I hear running, then the paramedics are next to me asking me questions: name, date of birth, where am I, what day it is, who is the president?

  “Fuck, I’m okay, stop asking me shit, my head is killing.”

  Two of them tentatively help me get up to a standing position, but I go dizzy, and they sit me on a stretcher, so I don’t fall. “Sir, we need to take you to the hospital. We’re going to take you to Lennox Hill Hospital on the East side, is that okay, sir?”

  I just nod my head, making my head pound.

  I think I've been in the hospital for a couple of hours now. The police arrived as I was being put on the stretcher. Apparently, there was a big rock near me with blood on it. They said I was attacked from behind and struck over the head with the rock. They asked if I was missing anything, thinking it was a robbery, but when I'm out running, I only have my phone strapped to my arm, and that's still there. They think that the attacker may have been spooked by another jogger. I told them about Reid, and they said they would pay him a visit. I'm just waiting for the doctor to come and let me know if I can go home yet. They wanted to keep me in for a few hours for observation and to make sure I wasn't concussed, especially with living on my own.

  I haven't been to sleep, so I think I should be good to go. If they don't come in soon, I'm discharging myself. I hate these places. I get up to take a walk, and I'm just going down a corridor when the doors open, and the paramedics rush in wheeling in another stretcher. I nearly die when I see it's Macen. Fuck. I run to her. She's holding her side. “Macen, what’s happened? Are you okay?”

  She looks at me, furrowing her brow, stunned to see me here of all places. I'm walking along holding the side of the stretcher, and she reaches up to run a finger over my head. “What happened to you?” she whispers.

  I feel my head — it's bandaged up. “I got attacked while out running. What happened to you, baby?”

  “Snap, but not the running bit.”

  “Reid,” we both say at the same time. Maybe now the police will do something about the fucker. I’ll kill him if I see him.

  “Sir, you need to stay here now while Ms. Donald gets examined.”

  I’m standing there when an older woman comes rushing in and stands next to me. She looks lost. We glance at each other, and I just know this is Macen’s Grandma. They look alike.

  “Are you looking for Macen?” I ask her. She looks up at me and nods.

  “They just took her through those doors to examine her.”

  “Oh, thank you. Who are you?”

  I reach out my hand to her. “I’m Caspian Kade, Macen’s friend and erm boss.”

  “Oh my,” she says as she takes my hand to shake. “I’m Macen’s Grandma, Doris. Nice to finally meet you, Mr. Kade. Although I would have preferred different circumstances to this.”

  I agree. “What happened to her? Why is she in here?”

  “Well, you know everything that's been going on. Reid attacked her on our doorstep. He pinned her to the door, smashed her head against it and bit her ear. She told me she scratched his hands badly, so I want them to take the flesh from under her nails. It will be the proof they need that he attacked her.”

  “FUCK!” I scream out, and punch the wall next to me, making Doris jump. “Sorry,” I apologize for scaring her. “I wasn't there to protect her.”

  She looks at me and raises an eyebrow. "Well, who was there to protect you, Mr. Kade?” Touché.

  We sit for a while, waiting to hear about Macen. We talk about Reid and everything that’s been happening, and I tell her what happened to me, and how I think it was Reid as well. He must have gone straight from attacking me to attacking her. The bastard.

  She's a really nice lady who loves Macen. I don't know much about Macen, but from what Doris is saying, she brought Macen up. There is so much I need to find out about her. Just then, they wheel Macen out to take her to a room. Doris and I get up and walk with them. I hold Macen’s hand. She doesn’t look too bad, thankfully.

  I don’t give a shit that the doctor hasn’t been to see me, and I haven’t been discharged, I’m not leaving her side. The police arrive to question her, and she tells them that we think Reid attacked us both. They take down our statements and request Macen’s nails be examined so they can get the DNA from her attacker. They want keep her for a couple of hours observation, but then she can go home with Doris to keep an eye on her. I feel so helpless and guilty. I told her I wouldn't let anything happen to her, yet here she is in the hospital. I heard her telling the police about Reid’s threat — that she was his and she had to stop seeing me. He’s getting more dangerous.

  The doctor comes to see Macen and then examines me while I'm there. He discharges us both, and we walk to the main entrance of the hospital. I phoned my driver to come and take us home. I hold Macen all the time. I have my arm around her, walking down the corridor and waiting for my driver. I’ll drop them off first, then go home and rest myself. It's been a hell of a day already, and it's only noon.

  We pull up outside their place, and Doris asks if I would like to go in for a drink. I see the startled look on Macen’s face. She doesn't want me to go up for some reason. She catches me watching her and smiles. “Sorry, Caspian, it's just a mess that’s all. Can we do it another time, please?” I take her hand and kiss her palm. “Yes, of course we can, although I'm reluctant to let you out of my sight. How can I protect you when I'm not with you, Macen?” I feel myself getting angry, not at her, but at myself. I'm livid she got hurt after I told her I had her and wouldn't let anything happen to her.

  She holds my cheek. “You can't be with me all the time, Caspian, we barely know each other. Please don't blame yourself for this. We may not know much about each other, but I know you're angry with yourself for this. Don't be. This is all Reid. Not you. He's a psycho, and he needs putting away. Now, at least the police have something to go on. Let's hope they arrest him. They will see the scrat
ches on his hand as I described, and they will have his DNA. Let's hope it's enough.”

  She leans in and kisses my cheek, where her hand was resting. “I feel bad that you got attacked, Caspian. I feel angry about that, and I think this is all my fault, but I know it isn't anyone's but Reid's. He's the one with the problem. Not us.”

  I kiss her lips gently. Doris is at the door waiting for Macen. “I'll call you later, Macen, to check on you, is that all right?”

  “Yes, I would like that, Caspian. See you soon.”

  I watch them both enter the building and shut the door before I tell the driver to take me home.

  I spend the rest of the day at home. I ring the doctors to make an appointment about getting something to help me sleep. I get an appointment for 4.45 p.m. today. Hopefully, I can start on something tonight. I'm not one for pills, but I need something. I can't go on with these nightmares. I have a meeting tomorrow with my lawyer to find out about the Vegas restaurant, so I spend the next couple of hours going through some paperwork on that. It all looks promising. I have enough finances to start the process, which is great news.

  I’ve just seen the doctor, and he’s given me some pills as a temporary measure. If it continues, he wants me to see a shrink — not happening. I'm on my way back home when I run into Darcy coming out of Tiffany's.

  “Oh, hey, Darcy, how are you?” She throws her arms around my neck and gives me a big kiss on the lips, typical Darcy fashion.

  “Casp, I haven't seen you for a couple of weeks. What are you doing tonight? Do you want to hook up? Hey, what's with the bandage?” Just then I see flashes and look over the street to Casper's, and sure enough, the paps are there, and they've spotted us.

  “I fell and banged my head, nothing serious. Sorry, Darcy, no can do. I'm officially off the market,” I say with a big grin on my face. As far as I'm concerned, I am.

  She pouts. “Oh, Casp, that's my loss for now. When you’re back on the market, give me a ring, and we can hook up. You know I love your cock, Casp.” She licks her lips, and her eyes wander down to my crotch. He isn't responding, thankfully.

  I lean in and give her a kiss on the cheek. “I don't think it will happen, Darcy. Great to see you though. Take care.”

  I leave her standing there.

  I see the paps over the road with their lenses pointed right at me, snapping away. I know this will be on the Internet within a few hours. Fuck. What’s Macen going to think if she sees this?

  Macen

  I SPEND THE rest of the day in the apartment. Grandma picks Dixon up from school and says she didn’t see anyone out of the ordinary, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t watching — he’s good at staying hidden. I’m sitting on the window seat with a cup of coffee, thinking about the last two weeks and how dramatically my life has changed. Seeing Caspian in the hospital today, having been attacked, broke my heart. He’s going through all this because of me, and I do feel guilty about it.

  Dixon laughs out loud at something he’s watching on the TV while Grandma cooks some dinner for us. I had to tell him I tripped up the steps and banged my head when he saw the bandage, and he seemed to buy it. “Hey, Dix, come and give your momma a hug. I need one of my Dixon hugs.” He doesn’t hesitate and runs over to me, giving me his best hug.

  A little later on, I get an alert on my phone, I open it, and it’s Google letting me know there’s something on Caspian. I open up the alert, and I’m shocked at the pictures. There are two: one of me and Caspian yesterday getting in the car holding hands with the tag line: ‘Caspian Kade holding hands with a plain Jane staff member – must be serious.’ The next picture is of him with another woman who I have seen him with before. She has her arms around his neck and is kissing him full on the lips. What the hell? The tag line on this one is: ‘Caspian Kade — up to his usual tricks with an old flame – Bye, bye, plain Jane.'

  I throw my phone down on the couch. He had the bandage on his head so that photo was taken today! The bastard. He's just playing me with all this ‘protecting me’ crap. Does he just want to play the hero? Well, screw him!

  “Hey, what's wrong? Why are you upset?” Grandma sits next to me and hugs me to her. I didn't realize I was crying. I wipe my face on my sweater sleeve.

  “I'm confused. Look.” I show her the alerts.

  “Macen, not every picture tells the true story, love. There may be a perfectly good explanation for the picture. Let me tell you something. Sitting in that hospital today, he was on pins all the time because he couldn't get to you and make sure you were okay. He's in love with you, Macen. I could see it written all over his face. As soon as you came out of that room and he could touch you, the tension, and grief left him. I know love when I see it. Don't be too harsh on him.”

  I hear her, but I don't believe her. A picture tells you everything.

  I’ve just got out of the shower, and I see I have a missed call on my cell from Caspian. I'm not calling him back. Just then it rings again. I ignore it. I don't want to speak to him. It rings again, ignore, again, ignore. He should get the message. I put it on the bed, then go and brush my teeth. When I come back, I have a text message:

  Please tell me you're not ignoring my calls. I thought maybe you were asleep until you kept rejecting them. Macen, can you phone me back and let me know you’re all right and safe, please? x

  I don’t want him to worry.

  I’m okay

  That’s all I put. My phone rings again. I just let it ring off. It rings again.

  Please pick up. Please let me hear your voice, so I know you're okay. I just want to hear you. x

  It rings again. I press accept.

  “Macen, are you there, Macen? Please let me know you're okay. I need to hear your voice.” I take a deep breath and close my eyes.

  “Macen, please. Why won't you speak to me?”

  “I'm here, Caspian and, yes, I'm fine. Thanks for checking in on me. I'll see you at work at the weekend.”

  I'm about to press end when he speaks again. “Macen, don't hang up. What's wrong? Why won't you speak to me?”

  I find the alert I got from Google, open it, and copy the article, then send it in a text to him. "Macen, speak to me."

  I sit on the bed until I hear the ping on his end to say he has a text. “The pictures do all the talking I need.”

  I hang up on him just as I hear him shout: “FUCK!”

  I leave the cell in my room and go and sit with Grandma for a bit. I can hear it ringing from here. I need to turn the ringer off before it wakes Dixon, so I go and see he’s sent me another text:

  I can explain that picture if you’ll let me. It's not what it seems, honestly. If you don't let me explain now, I will see you at work. I'm not in on Saturday, and your shift has changed on Sunday to the late shift if that is okay with you? If it's a problem, let me know, and I will sort it out for you. If you're not up to working this weekend after today's events, please let me know. I hope you let me explain the picture. I would never do anything to hurt you, Macen. Goodnight. x

  I feel bad. Grandma said there would probably be a good explanation. I text him back:

  Sorry, not up to talking right now, had a bad day. Sunday shift is fine for me. See you at some point.

  He doesn’t respond. I turn my ringer off and take the phone back with me into the living room. I sit cuddling into Grandma’s side, watching TV. I see it, but I don’t take it in. I couldn’t even tell you what the program is. What if he’s telling the truth? He sounded sincere, and I know I should listen to Grandma.

  “What did he say about the pictures?” I look at her. She’s waiting for me to say something. “Just that he can explain, and it’s not what it looks like.”

  There’s silence for a few minutes. “Do you believe him? Did he say what it was?”

  I shrug. “I told him I’d had a bad day and didn’t want to talk. I think I do believe him though, Grandma.”

  She pats my knee.

  “Oh, and my shift on Sunday has changed.
So I can take Dixon to Casper’s. You coming with us?”

  “That’s good, and if you can take him, then I will pass. I have Marjorie coming into New York this weekend, and I promised I’d find time to see her, so that works out perfectly.”

  I don’t sleep well. I keep seeing Reid and reliving the attack. I haven’t heard anything from the police. I’m going to phone them this morning for an update. I sit down to have breakfast with Dixon while Grandma potters about. He’s getting more excited for his party on Sunday. Me, not so much. Caspian will find out about Dixon then without a doubt. It’s for the best the truth comes out. It also helps me keep my distance from Caspian. With Reid threatening Dixon, it’s another reason to stay away from Caspian. I can’t take the chance.

  I spend the day relaxing, reading, and catching up on my sleep. I phoned the police, but all they could tell me was that they are still investigating. I don't know if they have him in custody or not. I won't feel comfortable outside until I know for sure, and I want to take Dixon out to get some new clothes for his party on Sunday. Maybe if I call Caspian's driver to take me and pick me up, I will be safe enough. I'm going to text Caspian and apologize. I treated him badly last night for no reason. We aren't a couple, so what he does is his business. I just won't let him get close to me anymore. I can’t risk it.

  I'm sorry about the way I was last night. I shouldn't have been angry with you. What you do is your business, not mine. I was shocked at seeing myself in the same article. Yep, plain Jane, that's me all right.

  He doesn’t reply straight away, so I put my phone in my bag and call for the driver to pick me up. Dixon got home a short while ago, and he’s excited to get some new party clothes. We’re in Macy’s on West 34th Street. We've picked out some new clothes, and we are milling around killing time until we can get picked up.