‘Please try to remain calm, Miss Nichols, my name is Doctor Alyssa Green, and I was the chief resident on scene when your partner was brought in.’ She was clearly used to panicking relatives, but she didn’t know my history. The thought of anyone I loved requiring hospitalisation of any sort left my mind wandering to all the dark file cabinets I had stored there. The fear was all consuming.
‘Miss Nichols, try not to panic, but I would like you to come to the hospital as soon as possible. Could you have someone transport you?’ She clearly thought I was in no fit state to drive and she was absolutely right. I advised I would hail a taxi and be right there, hanging up the phone and immediately hitting the button to call Nicholi. No answer on his cell left me the office, and the phone was answered just as I got into the taxi.
‘I need to speak to Nicholi Veneto now.’ Gone were any kind of pleasantries, and the response I received just infuriated me further.
‘I’m afraid Mr Veneto is in a meeting and cannot be disturbed.’ The constipated, nasal, robotic tone of the receptionist’s voice just fuelled my anger even further.
‘Get him right now, it is an emergency,’ and the phone switched to hold music, not before I heard her moaning haughtily about having to leave her freshly brewed cup of coffee to go cold while she serviced the needs of a cheap girlfriend. On normal occasions this would have bothered me, but all I could think of was Cross in hospital, not knowing what was wrong, the doctor would not confirm over the phone for confidentiality purposes.
‘Hello, this is Nicholi Veneto.’ He sounded perturbed for being interrupted and I recalled I had forgotten in my anger to confirm my name.
‘Nic, it is me. Cross has been taken to St Bart’s, I don’t know why they would not say, but said we had to get there ASAP.’ I was shaking and my stomach was churning, I had terrible travel sickness and could not read or look away from the road while moving, but that was not the reason I felt so ill, I was petrified.
‘I will be right there,’ Nicholi declared, as the phone went dead and I had arrived at the hospital. Running to the reception area and being informed Cross was in surgery and I should go to the waiting room just angered me further; did they not realise what a phone call like that does to you. The receptionist assured me the doctor would come speak with me as soon as she could, and I just paced the waiting area with its chequered black and white pattern in anticipation.
‘Miss Nichols, I’m Doctor Green and was the first responder to work on your partner.’
‘Where is he, what happened?’ I was floundering, my nerves shredded.
‘Mr Veneto was attacked and badly beaten; he is in surgery at the moment to re-inflate his lung after a broken rib perforated it. He also has a concussion, numerous contusions, and a second broken rib. He is in a critical, but stable condition right now, but I would urge you to contact other family members to wait with you.’
‘Will he be okay?’ My voice was feeble, clutching the phone in my hand that had now started to vibrate.
‘As I said, Miss Nichols, he is stable right now, but we must proceed with caution, the head injury he sustained has caused some swelling on his brain and is something we will closely monitor.’ She paused as the door flew open and Nicholi ran forward turning ashen when she repeated her findings.
‘When can we see him?’ I asked, almost with a whisper, my heart compressed in my chest, barely pumping.
‘We will bring you in as soon as he is out of recovery,’ she confirmed and gently touched my arm, leaving us alone.
‘It’s Larissa.’ I knew it immediately as the doctor was describing his injuries.
‘What? That’s insane. It’s her son, she wouldn’t.’
‘He was leaving the business; he had an interview today at a law firm.’ My head was spinning and I could feel myself swaying as Nicholi grabbed my arm and sat us both down on the nearest chairs.
‘He will be okay, baby, I promise, we Venetos are made of stern stuff, just you wait and see,’ he proclaimed, kissing my head and holding me close. The look on his face was a whole other story, and I knew he was giving credence to my statement concerning Larissa when he excused himself to make a phone call.
It felt like I had waited an eternity before the doctor returned and led us through to CCU and Cross’s room. They tried to prepare us, explaining what the various tubes and equipment we would see were for, but nothing could prepare me for the sight of Cross looking so small surrounded by a breathing machine, monitor and various medications running intravenously. His eyes were so swollen, completely black and blue, the chest drain from where his rib had infiltrated his lung was to the left side and he had extensive bruising over his torso and legs. It looked like someone had trampled all over him and my heart stopped. Nicholi was supporting me from behind and I could feel his chest rise and fall when he saw his brother lying there.
‘Cross, it’s me, I’m here,’ I spoke softly, taking his hand in mine and kissing it gently, not wanting to cause any pain.
‘I’m here too, man, you’re looking a little worse for wear that’s for sure.’ Nicholi was trying to lighten the mood and though I half smiled, it was more out of politeness than sincerity.
I sat for the next two hours just watching the ventilator rising, falling, the audible beep of the monitor confirming his vitals. He was stable, but the concern surrounding his head injury had not abated and the nurses were checking him every fifteen minutes for any change.
‘Should he not be awake now?’ I questioned the nurse monitoring his observations, noting them down on a clipboard at the end of his bed.
‘Keep talking to him, he can hear you,’ she replied, dodging my question completely, but I understood why, she couldn’t say any more than I could and I did what she said, talking aimlessly about anything and everything I could think of. Nicholi had called his mother to collect the boys and she would keep them overnight, assuring me many times that they would be safe with her and no one, especially Larissa, would be able to reach them there. I knew he was not convinced of my theory concerning Cross’s attackers, but the longer it took her to arrive at the hospital the surer I became.
Nicholi would bring me drinks and food, hold my hand and just sit with me; listening to the stories I would tell Cross intently. Around four hours after Cross had been admitted, Larissa strolled through the door accompanied by, I assumed, her husband, Angelo Veneto.
‘Get out!’ I screamed so loudly Nicholi jumped and Larissa just glared at me.
‘Who do you think you are talking to me like that, he is my son and you are nothing, but some fucking whore,’ she bellowed back, her eyes black, disdain oozing from every orifice. Nicholi lunged for her, but his father stood between them and I continued.
‘You did this, you couldn’t handle that Cross wanted to start his own life and stop defending your sorry criminal asses, could you? I’m the whore. Who are you to talk? I hear you drop your panties for any man. You disgust me and you will never come near him again or I will break that chicken neck of yours in two, now get out.’ I was hysterical and Larissa was stunned into silence initially, so shocked at someone standing up to her.
‘This is not over, little lady; no one speaks to me like that and gets away with it. You just dug your own grave.’ She spat out her words so violently Nicholi froze, and then found his voice.
‘You won’t come near her, any of us, you forget, Larissa, who you’re dealing with. I am not some errand boy that will cower to your every whim. You will pay for this and the only blood shed will be yours.’ I had never seen him like that before, he was truly menacing and the colour drained from Larissa’s face as she was led out by Nicholi’s father, who had said not a word or even looked at Cross the whole time he had been in the room.
Nicholi arranged for a guard to be posted outside Cross’s room and informed the police who had been waiting patiently for Cross to awaken of our suspicions.
It was nine pm and Cross still hadn’t woke up, the doctors and nurses rounded on him and I got
to hear the medical terminology for his injuries, seeing the students glance now and then at me while I clutched his hand in mine, willing with everything I had for him to open his eyes. Ten pm came and went, as did eleven, without any change.
I was desperate and thought this was the only thing I had left to give in the hopes he would fight to come back to me.
‘Cross, please, I love you.’ The monitor flatlined.
Old Ghosts
The crash team came running through the door within seconds of the audible alarm screeching there was no life here. They worked on Cross, chest compressions, defibrillating him, pumping him with drugs, pacing; nothing was working. I was still, just an observer in the room, no longer in my own body, unable to communicate or move. I could see Nicholi’s arms around me, see his mouth moving, but nothing, I had died too.
A flicker of something on the monitor caught my eye. It was so quick; I did not think anyone had seen it. Then again, more, building to a pattern, he was coming back.
Everyone had left the room, and I had resumed my seated position next to Cross, unable to speak. I could feel Nicholi holding my other hand tightly in his, just watching Cross like he was a ticking time bomb about to take us all away with him at any moment. A flicker, twitch, his fingers moved, he was holding my hand, not limp, but a firm grip. I studied his face for signs, nothing, then he started gagging and I panicked. The doctors came back and confirmed he was fighting the breathing tube. They removed it and waited. Nothing, his heart rate was steady and strong. A flicker, a blink, he tried to open his eyes.
‘Sophia, is that you?’ His eyes were so swollen he could not focus.
‘It’s me, I’m here and so is Nicholi.’ Hope was starting to build in me, he was going to make it, I felt a sudden weight lift off my heart and it began to beat, steadily in rhythm with his. He drifted in and out the rest of the night and most of the morning, resting his body, regenerating after the abuse it had taken. I never slept nor left his side for more than a few minutes despite everyone’s urging and reassurance he was now in the clear. I wanted to be here when he would awaken, not some stranger, me, his Lexi. He had once told me I was his first true love, and he was mine. I knew my declaration had been heard by Nicholi and had anticipated questions, but nothing was forthcoming and I was relieved beyond measure.
Later on in the early evening, Cross woke up and was able to speak with the police, giving his statement while I held his hand tightly in mine, my other still entwined with Nicholi’s as it had been the whole time.
‘I had finished the interview and headed to the coffee shop to grab me and,’ he stumbled, ‘Sophia a drink. I had added sugar to both and left taking a few sips when I suddenly felt really light-headed. My legs would not move properly, I felt like I had concrete in my shoes and I stumbled into an alley. I fell to the ground and tried to reach for my phone when three men jumped me.’
‘Did you recognise them?’ the detective asked, his colleague noting everything down. Cross looked first at Nicholi and then me.
‘Yeah, I did, they wore masks, but I know that voice anywhere. It was Alexis. My mother had sent them.’ I froze, the colour draining out of me, I had been right. Nicholi’s grip tightened on my hand and his face shadowed with horror.
The police left shortly after to make arrests, including Larissa. My heart fluttered, knowing that she would be locked away for a short time at least and we would be safe. Cross turned to me and I knew what he would say before the words came.
‘So, you made my heart stop saying you love me, let’s try it again this time, while I’m conscious,’ he teased, becoming more like himself by the second.
‘I love you,’ I confessed, holding Nicholi’s hand that bit tighter, knowing how much that would hurt him to hear me say it again.
‘I know your birth name is Caitlan, but with me you were Lexi, weren’t you?’ Cross smiled, but his eyes revealed his true feelings, confusion, denial and hurt. ‘She talked about Jacob all the time, but not as his mother. I thought when you said Jacob was your sister’s she never told me because she was scared I would run a mile. It wasn’t that though, was it? You wrote to me pretending to be your sister?’ The expression on his face was killing me inside. The truth bounding around in my head for so long, ready to jump free, no matter the consequences.
‘My sister and I were so identical no one could tell us apart, even our own parents. My mom used to draw letters on our toes so she could keep track when we were babies, but as we got older, we used it to our advantage and would often play the, I’m Caitlan not Lexi game. When my baby brother was born things changed, he for some reason that mystified everyone else knew without doubt who we were and that brought a swift halt to any games. As we both grew, the differences between us, apart from the physical of course, were noticeably obvious. I was the shy quiet child, and she was the exuberant, independent one.’
‘You were so passionate about everything you did,’ Cross interjected, kissing my hand, stalling me from continuing momentarily.
‘Lexi wanted to know everything immediately, asked questions incessantly and drove everyone crazy. I was the complete opposite, the people pleaser, content to just watch the world go by and obedient to my father’s every command. She was the rebel and after one of their many arguments she went out alone and came back home pregnant. When she found out she was going to have a baby she freaked out, no money, no one to turn to, my father would insist she have an abortion, she was lost and alone. I was terrified for her and we did what we had done countless times before; we traded places. My father worshipped me and we both knew deep down if it were I coming home pregnant he would be disappointed, but would support me, she would be turned loose.
‘Time was flying by and she would soon be showing, there was no other way and that day we vowed to keep the secret until either one of us couldn’t or didn’t want to any longer and I became Lexi.’
‘Yes, Cross, it was Lexi’s journal you found, but it was me, Caitlan that started to write to you. I’m sorry.’ So many lies, not intended to hurt anyone, just out of desperation, but it had hurt everyone more than my sister and I could ever have fathomed.
Nicholi spoke for the first time in hours, his voice tense and raw.
‘What about Seth?’
‘Seth and I were like two peas in a pod, he was a male extension of me in every way. We loved each other so strongly that I knew he would help if I explained the reasoning. He agreed and until that day, none of our family knew I wasn’t Lexi and that we had traded places.’ Just speaking with Nicholi and Cross, finally revealing everything I had kept so securely hidden for so long, felt exhilarating.
Cross was looking visibly tired, and I was exhausted, so with the steady assurances that the guard would remain at his door, Cross’s doctor requested we leave and return in the morning so we could all rest. I argued initially, but with Cross’s persuasion I agreed and kissed him on the cheek goodnight, heading to the elevator to meet Nicholi. The doors opened, and we climbed aboard in silence.
‘Chicken neck?’ Nicholi broke the silence, still not giving me eye contact as I turned to face him. A small smile, slowly lingering across his lips.
‘You think that’s not accurate? You know you’re right, it’s more like a turkey, gobble, gobble.’ I sashayed around the elevator walking like a turkey when Nicholi, now laughing, reached to pull me into his arms.
‘You’re crazy, but I love you,’ he affirmed, planting a kiss on the end of my nose as I looked up to meet his eyes, brightening by the proximity of our bodies.
‘I love you too,’ I replied, leaning into his arms and letting them envelop me, burying my head in his chest. We had nearly lost Cross and now Larissa would seek her revenge, I knew without a shadow of a doubt once she was out of jail we would be her number one targets. I shook my head, I just wanted to forget, to be filled with anything other than what I was feeling and with that in mind I reached up to find Nicholi’s lips, a gentle sweep across them with mine until he responded dr
awing me closer, the hunger seeping from his body to mine, consuming us both. The audible beep of the elevator and the doors opening brought us swiftly back to reality.
‘What is it with elevators and us?’ he mused, still holding me as close as possible as we walked to the car.
‘It’s like cat nip or oysters,’ I joked, bubbling over with the knowledge that Cross was okay and they both knew everything there was to know. I had no secrets left, and I had never felt so free. Nicholi opened the car door for me and buckled his seat belt, turning to face me as he started the engine.
‘Cross was your first love; the chance of discovering where that would lead was ripped away from you mercilessly. You need time to think and explore, I will be waiting for you no matter how long it takes,’ he proclaimed, turning out onto the road to lead us home. He was right in so many ways; I was in love with two men from completely different periods of my life. I had briefly spoken with Cross and knowing my true identity, completely understood the confusion and utter turmoil we had been pushed into. I would be as fair to them both as I could, knowing deep down someone would be hurt, not wanting to accept that just yet, filing it away in the, can’t deal with drawer. Listening to the music instead that was now filling the car. Falling asleep to the beat of the bass against the thrum of the rain lashing against the windowpane.
***
For the next three weeks the routine had remained the same, take the boys to school, stay with Cross for the day. Go collect the boys, feed, entertain, bath and bed before sleeping with Nicholi, neither of us touching the other consciously, but each and every morning finding ourselves entwined upon waking. Cross was doing well, healing as he should and would be allowed home soon; in time, I hoped for the lavish Halloween party I was planning for the boys.
I had been shopping with Nicholi for the remaining items I needed after leaving Cross to rest, arguing over every little thing possible. We were heading back to the house, staring out of the window after bickering for the last fifteen minutes whether trick or treating was begging.
In The End (Butterfly #1) Page 15