Part 30

Caroline stood in front of the steam-fogged bathroom mirror, the air still humid and heavy from the scalding water. She had almost scrubbed her skin raw, hoping the heat could burn away the memory of Rob's hands, but the dark bruises on her arms and the deep violet marks on her neck remained, staring back at her with relentless clarity.

Her phone sat on the marble counter, agonizingly silent. No call from the police station, no confirmation that the monster had been picked up, no message saying she was finally safe. He was out there somewhere, likely pouring a drink and preparing to "celebrate with friends," while she was trapped in the suffocating aftermath of his violence.

Taking a deep breath she moved away from the mirror and forced herself to go and pick out an outfit, she needed a superpower outfit, something she could hide in.

She ran her fingers over the soft fabrics, a movement that usually brought her peace. Her dressing room had always been her sanctuary, a place of color explosions, luxury, and order. Now, it felt like an armory.

'Give me armor that glitters.' she murmured as she let her hand run over the hangers.

She reached for a vintage, high-necked jumpsuit in heavy gold brocade, a dizzying, funky statement piece that demanded so much attention no one would think to look at the emptiness in her eyes. The stiff Mandarin collar was encrusted with amber stones that sat snug against her jawline, a luxurious barricade hiding the violet marks. The sleeves were long, ending in dramatic flared cuffs with jeweled buttons that kept her bruised wrists securely out of sight.

To finish the look, she threw on an oversized, shaggy faux-fur coat in an electric shade of violet. It was extravagant, theatrical, and the perfect distraction. The sheer weight of the fabric on her shoulders felt like a protective embrace, a barrier holding the outside world at bay.

In the mirror, she no longer saw the victim of Rob's violence. With a little bit of imagination she saw a funky, untouchable icon. The shimmer of the gold and the volume of the fur acted as a visual shield. If she looked like the center of the universe, no one would suspect she felt like a black hole inside.

As her car pulled up to Noel's house, the warm glow from the windows spilled out onto the snow-dusted driveway. She was so not looking forward to this but at least it would keep her distracted from everything that had happened last night and this morning.

She checked her reflection in the darkened window, pulling the stiff collar of her jumpsuit up to ensure every mark was hidden. She straightened her spine, took one last shuddering breath, and stepped out, showtime!.

For the hundredth time Bowie tugged on Noel's sleeve, her voice rising in a familiar, restless whine. 'Where is she, Daddy? Where's Caro? You said she'd be here in time for my outfit!'

Noel sighed, checked his watch for the tenth time in as many minutes, 'She's coming, B. I promise. She's probably just stuck in the last-minute Christmas rush,' he said, though his own voice betrayed a hint of the anxiety he was trying to hide.

And then suddenly the doorbell echoed through the house, and Noel allowed the warm glow of excitement to course through his body knowing well enough who was standing behind that door. 'The lady of the hour!' Noel exclaimed, his face lighting up with genuine, anxious relief as he opened the door.

Caroline stepped into the warm glow of the hallway, and Noel froze, completely blindsided by her appearance. The gold brocade jumpsuit shimmered under the chandelier, and the shaggy violet fur gave her an aura that was part rock star, part royalty.

'Wow,' Noel breathed, his voice dropping into a low, stunned rasp. For a split second, the hours of anxious pacing and checking his watch vanished. He looked at her with pure, unadulterated adoration, as if she were the most magnificent thing he'd ever seen. 'Stunning, Caro. You look... absolutely incredible. That outfit is out of this world..Come in..' Noel invited her to come further.

The festive atmosphere in the hallway was suffocatingly bright, a stark contrast to the thick tension vibrating between the walls. As Sara rounded the corner, she stopped short, her eyes raking over Caro's outfit with clinical disdain. 'Hi' she barely smiled, turned and walked back into the living room.

Sara's judgment was the least of her problems, though.

Walking up to them was Liam. He wasn't joining the laughter coming from the parlor; instead, he was watching her with a piercing, knowing gaze. He didn't just see the fabric of her dress, he saw exactly what her outfit needed to cover up.

She swallowed hard, adjusting her cuff with a trembling hand as she approached him. 'Hey Liam,' she managed a shy smile. Liam didn't move. He leaned back a bit, his expression unreadable, though his eyes never left hers.

The room hummed with the clinking of crystal and the low thrum of a soft jazz playlist. Caroline drifted through the motions of smalltalk but she could feel Liam's presence like a low-frequency vibration. He didn't join the circle; he hovered at the periphery, a silent observer to her masquerade.

Debbie wrapped her arms around Liam from behind and pushed herself against his back, her chin resting on his shoulder as she looked at Caroline 'That outfit is to die for! Can Sara look even more jealous? her eyes have been shooting daggers at Caroline from the moment she walked in' Debbie chirped, her bubbly energy clashing violently with the silent interrogation happening in Liam's eyes.

Liam didn't break eye contact with Caroline, though his body went noticeably more relaxed at Debbie's touch. He leaned back into her but kept his focus pinned entirely on the way Caroline's fingers were white-knuckled around her glass of champagne listening to Bowie's happy chatter.

'Doesn't she look incredible, babe?' Debbie continued, her hands smoothing over the dark fabric of Liam's jacket. Liam finally spoke, 'It's a lot of coverage for such a warm house,' he said as he turned around and pushed a tender kiss on her lips 'anyway, I like your outfit more, much less to take off once I get you back home' he grinned and deepened the kiss.

From the other side of the room, Noel could barely keep his focus on whatever conversation he was having, his eyes tracking Caro's every move as he walked over to her. He watched her hand go to her pocket again, quickly checking her phone, 'hey..everything ok?' he stared right into her eyes.

'Yes of course, I was just going to have a smoke,' she murmured, nervously pushing a strand of hair out of her face and with a shy smile she grabbed her purse and walked away, 'I'll be right back'.

She pushed through the heavy glass doors. The transition to the terrace was a brutal, icy shock that felt more honest than the warmth inside. Liam was there, leaning against the stone balustrade, the orange tip of his cigarette glowing like a warning light. He didn't look surprised to see her.

'Glad you did decide to come,' he said as she fumbled with her purse, her fingers clumsy and frozen, until she finally managed to pull out her own pack.

Caroline's lighter sparked three times, a pathetic rasping sound that failed to catch in the biting wind. Liam didn't move at first. He just watched her struggle, his silhouette a sharp, dark shadow against the pristine white of the snow-covered garden. Then, with a slow, deliberate grace, he stepped toward her. He didn't offer a light. Instead, he reached out and wrapped his hand over hers, stilling the tremor.

The heat of his palm was a shock against her frozen skin.

'You're shaking, Caro,' he murmured, his voice cold, clinical, and dangerously perceptive. 'nervous or scared about something? Someone?'

'I'm fine, Liam. It's just..it's a lot of eyes in there, I just needed a breather' she lied, her voice thready. She tried to pull her hand away, but his grip tightened, not enough to hurt, but enough to command her.

He took the lighter from her nerveless fingers, flicked it once, and held the flame to her cigarette. In the flare of the light, his eyes didn't look at the cigarette; they stayed locked on the high, stiff collar of her jumpsuit.

'Nice coverage,' he said, 'Noel thinks you're a masterpiece. He only sees the brocade and the fur. But I know you. You don't wear armor unless there's a war.' He stepped even closer, his chest nearly brushing the violet fur of her sleeve. The smell of cedar and expensive tobacco enveloped her, a suffocating reminder of things she was trying to bury. 'What happened today after you left my house in a rush? I hope you didn't go and see him..I saw you flinch when Bowie touched your arm.'

Caroline took a long, jagged drag of smoke, the nicotine doing nothing to settle the roar in her ears. 'I don't know what you're talking about. Besides I'm here now, aren't I?' she deflected.

'Yes you are' Liam whispered, leaning down so his lips were inches from her ear, his breath hot against the very skin she'd spent an hour concealing with concealer and fabric. 'Stop playing charades with me, tell me what happened before I go back inside and ask Noel why the 'lady of the hour' has been glued to her phone all evening.'

Caroline's breath hitched, the smoke curling in her lungs like a physical weight. The heat of his mouth so close to her neck made the hidden bruises there throb in a rhythm that felt like a confession.

'You won't ask him anything, Liam.' she hissed, her voice cracking despite her best efforts. 'You're going to go back inside to Debbie, and leave me to my charades.' She tried to brush past him, but Liam moved with a terrifying, quiet speed.

He blocked her path, his arm snapping out to grip the stone balustrade behind her, effectively pinning her against the icy ledge. The orange tip of his cigarette hissed as it fell into the snow.

'Don't use her to deflect,' Liam growled, his eyes dark with a sudden, violent intensity. 'I'm not Noel. You can't distract me with a shimmer and a shy smile. You left my place and you went to see him, didn't you? You went back to his house, admit it!'

He reached out, his thumb hovering just a fraction of an inch from the stiff edge of her collar. His hand was steady, a stark contrast to her trembling frame. 'Your phone hasn't stopped buzzing in your pocket since you walked through that door. Who is it, Caro? Is he checking his work? Is he making sure you're still covered up?'

Inside, through the glass, she could see the silhouette of Noel approaching the doors, his shadow lengthening as he came to check on her.

'Liam, stop it!,' she whispered, panic finally bleeding into her tone. 'Noel is coming. Please.'

Liam didn't flinch. He leaned in even deeper, his voice low and angry. 'Then tell me what that twat has done, or I'll pull this collar down myself and let Noel see exactly what kind of 'masterpiece' you've become.'

'Ok yes Liam, I went over to Rob's house! nothing happened, I got it all under control' she gasped, the lie tasting like copper in her mouth. She squeezed her eyes shut as the latch on the glass door clicked. 'Now move!'

Liam didn't flinch. His forehead leaned against hers for a fleeting, agonizing second, his voice a lethal vibration. 'I knew it! what did he do?' he hissed at her, 'for the last time, what did he do?'

The door swung open, spilling warm light and the faint, festive croon of Bing Crosby onto the terrace. Noel stepped out, his brow furrowed, his eyes darting between Liam's rigid posture and Caroline's ghost-white face.

'Everything okay?' Noel asked, his voice laced with a protective, growing unease. 'You've been out here a while. And Liam... you almost look like you're interrogating her.'

Liam stepped back, but only an inch. He pulled out his silver lighter and sparked it with a terrifyingly calm clink, the flame lighting another cigarette, 'Just making sure the 'lady of the hour' doesn't freeze or die of boredom, Noel.'

Noel walked closer, his suspicion sharpening. He noticed the way Caroline's hand went instinctively to her collar, and the way her phone, still in her pocket sent a muffled, rhythmic buzz through the silence.

'Oh really?' Noel repeated, his voice dropping an octave as he stepped fully into the freezing air, the door clicking shut behind him. The festive soundtrack from the parlor was now just a muffled hum behind the glass.

He frowned at Liam before his eyes locked on the way Caroline's fingers were nervously clawing at the gold fabric of her neck. 'Maybe you can explain why she's looking at you like you're holding a gun to her head?'

'I'm not the one holding the gun, Noel,' Liam said, his voice as sharp as the winter air. He exhaled a plume of smoke that swirled between them, his eyes never leaving Caroline's pale face. 'I'm just the one pointing out the safety is off.'