Entwined-chapter 3
Chapter 3: Bruised
I carefully crawled onto my couch. Ah, home. No place like it. Wearily, I shut my eyes. Who knew just riding home in a car would wear a person out? Of course, anyone who has ever been in the hospital knows it’s not the quietest place in the world. And when you’re suffering from a concussion, you get the extra special bonus of being woke up on a regular basis to the question, ‘How are you feeling?’ To which you want to reply, ‘I was fine until you woke me up you asshole.’
“Okay Songbird, here’s your pain pills,” Scott said softly, handing me a glass of water.
“I really don’t want to take these. I just get stoned off of them. I don’t like being brainless.”
“You’re gonna want them. You’ll be sorry if the others wear off and you start feeling your ribs. Believe me, I know from experience.”
“I know you know. I’d rather just wait. I want to take a shower first.” I gingerly got off the couch.
“Your call, Songbird. I think you’re going to be sorry though,” Scott stated, following me into the bedroom and watching me grab some clothes and walk slowly to the bathroom. “Hey, need any help?”
“No. I got it covered.”
“Damn. I was hoping to get a free show,” Scott teased, wiggling his eyebrows at me.
“Very funny, Hall. Ha ha. Not in this lifetime,” I replied as I shut the door.
I looked in the mirror. Oh lovely. My dirty blonde hair hung limply with tangles. It looked like I hadn’t washed it in a week. My normally clear brown eyes were bloodshot and the bruising made me look like a raccoon. My bottom lip looked like a collagen treatment gone horribly wrong. And now for the big finale: the ribs. Oh…wow.
Twenty minutes and a lot of pain later, I emerged from bathroom. So, he was right. The pain pills had worn off and I could feel every bruise. I hate it when he’s right.
“I was about to send in the search party. Are you alright?” he eyed me suspiciously, taking in my pale face.
“I’ll take those pills now.”
“That’s what I thought,” nodding his head knowingly and handing me the pills.
“We need to wrap your ribs back up too.”
“I know. That’s why I put on an undershirt. You can wrap over it.”
“How bad do your ribs look?”
“Well, my ribs are being shown in Technicolor now. He really did a number on me. Here, look,” I pulled my undershirt up far enough for Scott to see without flashing him.
Scott sucked in a breath. “Oh hell. Well, let’s get those ribs wrapped and then you can lie down and rest. I think if you put your hands up on my shoulders I can reach around to wrap you up.”
Scott was as careful as he could be, but by the time he was done, I was sweating and pale from the pain. He walked me into my bedroom and pulled back the covers on the bed.
“Okay, I want you to crawl into your cozy little bed and sleep.” He tucked me in with a smile. “Honey, does he have a key to the apartment?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“I’m gonna run down the street and get new locks for your door. I don’t want him to able to get in here while you’re gone on the road. Where do you keep your tools?”
“The tools are under the sink. I guess I should call the landlord and tell him Craig isn’t welcome here anymore,” I sighed. My eyes were starting to get very heavy and my ribs had thankfully gone numb. God bless the person who invented painkillers.
“You can do that after you’ve had a nap. You’re gonna have to rest up if you still want to go back on the road. You’ll never make it otherwise. And I’ve already carried your ass around enough.”
“Hey, I thought you said it was a cute ass,” I replied sleepily.
“Not anymore. I’ve had to carry it around too much. Go to sleep. When you wake up, you’ll have new locks.”
I didn’t hear Scott leave. I was already out cold.
******
Scott was putting the new deadbolt into the front door when he had the feeling he was being watched. He looked over his shoulder to see a little old lady standing in her doorway staring at him, her arms crossed over her chest and a frown on her face. He smiled at her. “Is there something I can do for you ma’am?”
“I was wondering who you are and why you are changing the locks on Catherine’s door. And where is Catherine?”
“My name is Scott Hall and I’m a close friend of Catherine’s. She’s inside asleep right now. And you are?”
“I’m Mrs. Crabtree. I watch Catherine’s apartment while she’s gone. You’re not her boyfriend. Her boyfriend is blonde. Shouldn’t he be changing her locks?” Scott recognized Mrs. Crabtree’s name. Songbird had mentioned the little old lady who knew everyone’s business in the building. She said the lady was very lonely and she felt sorry for her. He thought Mrs. Crabtree could come in handy to keep Craig away from Songbird’s home.
“I don’t think you’ll be seeing him around anymore.”
“Why not, for heaven’s sake? He’s such a nice young man. I thought for sure Catherine would marry him. They made such a beautiful couple,” she rambled.
“That ‘nice young man’ beat up Catherine last night,” Scott said through clenched teeth.
“Oh my! Is Catherine alright? Shouldn’t she be in the hospital? How badly is she hurt? Is he in jail?” Mrs. Crabtree asked, her hand over her heart as she walked down the hall to stand next to Scott.
Scott smiled at the rapid fire questions. “She’s okay. Her ribs and cheekbone are bruised; she has a black eye, slight concussion and a split lip. She was in the hospital last night. I brought her home this morning. Yes, the ex-boyfriend is in jail.”
“Why would he ever do such a horrible thing to beautiful little Catherine? She’s such a sweet child. Is there anything I can do?”
“Jealous people do crazy things. Actually, you could help. Even though I’m changing the locks, that doesn’t mean he won’t try to get in the apartment while Catherine’s gone to work. If you could keep an eye out for him and call the police if you see him, it would really help.”
“Oh, of course! I won’t let that monster near her door. He should be ashamed of himself. They should just keep him locked up!” She shook her head at the injustice.
“I agree ma’am, but they won’t keep him forever. I just want Catherine to be safe when she comes home.”
“Leave it to me young man. I’ll keep an eye out.” Mrs. Crabtree looked Scott up and down. “You’re a very big man. Are you one of the wrestlers from where Catherine works?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Well then, I guess Catherine will be safe while you’re here. If you need any help, I’m in Apartment 3B. Tell Catherine to get well soon. I’ll stop by later with some hot soup for her.” Mrs. Crabtree bustled off to her apartment and shut the door.
Scott smiled and shook his head as he tried out the new deadbolt lock. Sometimes a nosey neighbor can come in handy. He stepped inside the apartment and closed the door.
He headed into the kitchen to get a glass of tea. He poked his nose into the cookie jar. Ah yes, Songbird’s famous chocolate and cinnamon chip oatmeal cookies. Ambrosia! He wandered into the living room. He smiled as he looked at the picture hanging above the couch. It was huge portrait of the six of them. Kevin, Paul, Sean, Shawn and he were dressed to the nines in tuxedos while Songbird was in a flame red evening gown. The photographer had talked them into picking her up and holding her in front of them. They all made a very good looking family. That’s what they were: a family.
Scott’s eyes traveled around the room. Pictures of the group were intermixed with pictures of Songbird’s family. Scott smiled. Songbird would tell him they were all her family. Songbird and her parents. Songbird and Sean and Paul. Songbird and Kevin, Shawn and himself. Songbird and her three nieces and five nephews. Songbird and her four brothers. Songbird and…the bastard himself. Scott’s lip curled in disgust. A flare of white hot anger surged through him. He would love to have the creep alone in a room for 15 minutes. There wouldn’t be anything left when he was done. When he shut his eyes he could still see the bastard kicking her on the ground. He let out a deep breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. She was so lucky she wasn’t hurt worse. She’s such a little thing, Scott thought, he could have killed her! The white hot anger returned. He grabbed up the frame and then stifled the need to smash it to pieces. He guessed he had better let Songbird do that herself. He put the picture face down on the table. Sighing, he stared out the window and wondered if Songbird would really feel like going back on the road in a couple of days. The phone rang startling him out of his musings. Before he could cross the room to answer it, the machine kicked on.
“Hi! This is Catherine. I can’t come to the phone right now. Leave a message at the beep!”
“Songbird, pick up the phone. It’s Shawn. Are you there?” Scott picked up the phone.
“Hey man.”
“Christ, Songbird. Your voice sounds like Scott’s. They didn’t give you a sex change in the hospital by accident did they?” Shawn teased.
“Very funny Toy Boy,” Scott replied, purposely reversing Shawn’s stage nickname.
“Oooo, that hurt. How is she, man?”
“Beat up. She’s asleep right now. Kev call and tell you everything?”
“Yeah. I didn’t think the guy was the type. He’s seemed decent when I met him.”
“Kev and I thought the same thing. I mean, Songbird told us he was a little jealous but she really thought once he met us it would be fine.”
“Instead, he turned psycho boy on her.”
“Yep.”
“I hope you beat him to death with his own arm. It’s the least he deserves.”
“Let’s just say he met my right up close and personal.”
“Good! I hope you knocked his teeth down his throat!”
“Scott, who are you talking to?” I asked as I slowly walked out of the bedroom.
“Hey girl. It’s Shawn, checking up on you,” handing her the phone.
“Hey Shawny.”
“Hi baby. How ya feelin’?” Shawn’s Texas drawl washed over me like a warm spring shower bringing a smile to my face.
“I’m okay.”
“Now I know that can’t be true. Are you sure you’re just ‘okay’?”
“Alright, alright. I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck. Is that better?”
“It’s more truthful. Is Scott taking good care of you?
“Yes, he’s taking good care of me.”
“Like I wouldn’t take good care of you,” grumbled Scott.
“He’s not saying you’re not Scott,” I soothed, patting his hand.
“Awww, did I hurt the Bad Guy’s feelings?”
“Enough. I’m not gonna be in the middle of the banter. I don’t feel like it right now.”
“Okay. Paul wants to talk. Here he is.”
“Hey Songbird. How you doing? Are you resting?”
“Hi Paul. I hurt but I’ll be alright. I just woke up from a nap and I feel a little better.”
“Good. You take it easy and let Scott wait on you. And listen to him. He knows about bruised ribs.”
“I will, Paul. I promise.”
“Good. Love you. Talk to you later.”
“Love you too. Bye.”
“Hey sugar plum,” Shawn said as he came back on the line.
“Hey Shawny.”
“You take care and we’ll call you tomorrow. Oh yeah, Kev and Sean said they’d call tomorrow too. Rest up. Love you.”
“Thanks for the message. Love you too. Bye.” I hung the phone up and looked at Scott. “So, do I have new locks?”
“Yep. And I met Mrs. Crabtree. She said she would be over with some soup later.”
“Did you tell her what happened?” I asked suddenly.
“Yep.”
“Oh Scott, I wish you wouldn’t have. Now she’ll just worry.”
“Too late. Besides, she’ll look out for the scum while you’re gone,” Scott reasoned. The doorbell rang. “That’s probably her now.” He opened the door and smiled. “Hello again, Mrs. Crabtree. That smells wonderful.”
“Hello Scott dear. Is Catherine awake?”
“I’m right here Mrs. Crabtree,” I said, getting up from the couch.
“Oh my dear! Your beautiful face is all bruised! That man is an absolute monster! I hope they lock him up and throw away the key!”
“I’m fine Mrs. Crabtree. Really. There’s nothing to be worried about. I just have some cuts and bruises. Nothing serious. What did you bring us to eat?” I asked, trying to change the subject.
“I just whipped up your favorite, dear.”
“Chicken noodle!”
“Of course.”
“Scott, you are gonna love this. It will be the best soup you have ever tasted. It’s even better than my Mom’s. Although, I’ll deny it if you tell my mother. Did you make biscuits too?”
“Yes deary. Now both of you sit down and eat up. I made extra because Catherine has told me how much wrestlers eat,” Mrs. Crabtree said, patting Scott’s shoulder.
******
“Good night, Mrs. Crabtree. Thank you for the soup. It was delicious,” I said, kissing her cheek.
“Good night, dear. You feel better. Good night, Scott. Take care of our girl.”
“I sure will, ma’am. Good night.” Scott shut the door behind her. “I thought she was gonna spend the night here.”
“I told you, she’s very lonely. She lost her husband years ago. She likes you. Once again, the wrestler more handsome than 10 movie stars steals another heart,” I teased as I put my arm around his waist. I leaned against him, suddenly very tired.
“Off to bed with you, young lady. You’ve been up too long anyway. I’ll bring in your pain pills.”
“I’m not arguing. I’m so tired all of the sudden.” I crawled into my bed. Ah, nice soft bed.
‘Here you go honey. Down the hatch.”
“Thanks Scott. Is the couch gonna be okay for you to sleep on?”
“Oh yeah. It’ll be fine. Your couch is very comfy. In fact, I think it’s the most comfortable couch I have ever slept on.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes. Quit worrying. You’re the patient, not me. Now, go to sleep. I’ll see ya in the morning. You yell if you need anything.”
“Okay. Good night Scott. Love ya.”
“Good night. Love ya too.” Scott leaned down, gently hugged my shoulders and kissed my cheek. He winked as he left the room.
I blew a stray piece of hair out of my eyes as I lay back on the pillow. I glanced over to the nightstand at the picture of Craig and I at the park. Boy, I sure know how to pick them. Another perfectly crappy choice. I felt betrayed, embarrassed and most of all, angry. How in the hell could I have been so wrong about him? Hot, angry tears began to stream from my eyes. The tears came faster and faster, followed by a sob that came straight from my soul. And just one thought kept running over and over through my mind. I’m such a fool. I am such a fool.