by Bowes, K T
“Who took my shoes off? Where are they? I need to go.” She pushed herself upright and leaned against a wooden headboard, rubbing at the crick in her neck.
“You didn’t have shoes; just your slippers. They’re over there.” Caleb pointed and Hana groaned at the sight of the useless woolly boots. “It’s okay, you’re safe here. He only wants the best for you.”
“Who? Who’s he?” Hana rubbed her eyes and hissed in pain as she pressed the right one. “Where’s Logan? What about the children?”
The memory of Wiri’s shadowlike face at the top of the stairs pushed guilt into her chest. He looked terrified, but he might at least get help. Unless he saw the incident with Anahera as her fault. Hana sighed, unable to predict the future and grateful for it.
“The kids are fine; he’s looking into a way of grabbing them too.”
“What? No! Leave my kids alone.” Hana drew her legs back away from Caleb and he looked hurt.
“He just wants the best for you,” he repeated.
“Who does?” Hana felt the panic building and reached out a hand to touch the ridge of her pacemaker. She wondered if it went wild during her unnatural, drug induced sleep. The room seemed dim, the heavy curtains at the window ripped enough in a few places to admit a watery, pathetic light. She closed and opened her eyes again, trying to make the right one work. “It can’t be evening already.”
“You slept ages. Who did that to your face?” Caleb asked. “You bled on the sheets.”
“Sorry.” The automatic apology seemed ridiculous in the circumstances. “I want to go home.”
Caleb shook his head. “We’re all gonna be together, like a family.” He smiled, a look of genuine pleasure.
“I’ve got a family!” Hana remembered the ground breaking call from Bodie and tears pricked her eyes. “He thinks I hung up!” Her voice came out as a wail. “He told me how he felt about everything and I ended the call!”
Caleb shrugged. “It’s okay, Hana. You’ve got us now.”
With a groan, Hana swung her legs off the bed and her socks contacted a worn 1970s carpet, the psychedelic pattern making her head hurt as it repeated over and over. “I want my slippers.” It seemed important to get them. With something on her feet she could run away.
Caleb reached down next to the double bed and pulled at the grey woolly boots Hana wore around the house. Rubber soled so she could hang out the washing or walk to the outside dustbin, they were still slippers for eighty percent of their construction. She groaned and put her head in her hands.
“He said you’d feel like this for a while. But it’ll be okay when the kids get here.”
“You touch my kids and I’ll hurt you.” Hana gritted her teeth and her green eyes flashed danger, despite one being only half open.
“He’ll only bring your two.” Caleb ran a hand over his sparse, teenage beard growth. “He doesn’t want the other one.”
Hana stood, the room pitching around her. She used a rickety cupboard to lean against while she pushed her feet into the slippers. The house felt cold and damp and she shivered, unable to control her body temperature. “What did you do to me?”
“Not me.” Caleb jerked his head towards his crutch. “It wasn’t me.” His vague responses induced anger in Hana’s psyche and she lurched for him, grabbing the collar of his sweatshirt and hauling him forwards. For a second he looked fearful and then relaxed. “You won’t hurt me. It’s not the way you’re wired.”
“Really?” Hana pitched forward so their noses almost touched. “I once put a shard of crystal through a man’s forehead. Do you want to go there with me? Do you?”
“Spirited as ever. I see you’ve met my son.” The gentle male tenor stopped Hana in her vengeance and she dropped Caleb’s shirt.
Turning, she met Robert Dressler’s steady gaze, blue eyes and dirty blonde hair. He smiled, his handsome face curving upwards and Hana felt relief flood through her. “Help me, Bobby,” she pleaded, padding towards him and hurling herself against his chest. “They’re going after my children. Help me get away.”
Bobby’s arms felt strong around her shoulders and he kissed the top of her head. “I came back for you, Hana,” he said, his voice hushed. “I couldn’t stay away.”
Chapter 58
Unrequited Love
“What?” Hana tried to disconnect but he drew her closer, his arms locking around her back. “This is you? You did this?” She struggled with more spirit and he seized her beneath the armpits as she dropped to the ground in a perfect imitation of one of Wiri’s tantrums. Hana let her legs turn to jelly and crumpled, dragging Bobby with her.
“I think they gave her too much, Dad,” Caleb said, scuffing his crutch around the carpet with the toe of his good foot. “She’s woozy.”
“You can’t do this!” Hana screamed, thrashing and kicking as Bobby dodged her legs. “I want to go home! Let me go home!”
“Hana! Hana, stop! You know I won’t hurt you,” he breathed, everything about his voice and his smell promising safety while his actions dealt a different hand. “You know I love you, sweetheart. I’ll get Phoenix and the baby and we’ll go away together.”
“I love Logan!” Hana screamed, her chest tightening in a heady mix of terror and fury. “And if you touch my kids, I’ll kill you!”
Bobby stood, his expression a mask of raw hurt. “You don’t love him, Hana. You think you do but you don’t.”
“Don’t you tell me what to think!” She clambered upright and moved towards him, noticing with satisfaction how he edged backwards. On the offensive, she shoved at his rock hard chest and managed to tilt him backwards. “You don’t know what I think!” she shouted into his face. “I thought you were my friend!” Her shoulders slumped. “I saw you at the hospital. Why did you come back?”
Bobby shook his head. “I want to be more than friends, Hana. I always have. I’ve followed you for the last few days.” He lifted his hand to stroke her cheek and she ducked out of his way. His fingers clamping around her chin meant business and she stilled as he looked at her swollen eye, his scrutiny moving to the grazed skin at her hairline. “Who hurt you, Hana?”
“Not Logan!” She replied through gritted teeth and twisted out of Bobby’s grasp. Moving to the far corner of the room, she pressed herself against an ancient wardrobe which creaked against the pressure. “I’m going home and you can’t stop me.”
“Want me to use more stuff, boss?” The deep male voice came from a small gap between the door and the frame, a bulbous face pushing through to get Bobby’s attention. Hana recognised the man from her hallway and the moment seemed like days ago. “I can quieten her down if you want.”
“You might have to.” Caleb looked resigned and his betrayal sent acid into Hana’s throat.
“Judas!” she hissed, but he avoided eye contact.
“Na, just leave her for now; she’ll calm down.” Bobby gave her a smile, the same one he used to offer as they rode through the bush or laughed about some silly thing one of the stockmen said. Hana closed her eyes against the emotions it evoked, knowing she’d pay a terrible price for letting him get too close.
“How can you do this to me?” She heard the pathos in her voice and detested herself. “You saved me and my son; you promised to help me and now this?” Her outstretched arm encompassed the dingy bedroom and ancient furnishings.
“We’re not staying here, Hana. I just need to get the kids and then we’ll go.”
“Go where?” Hana wrapped her arms around her and hugged herself, feeling cold right through to the bone. “Leave my children alone; I won’t come with you.”
“You don’t have a choice.” Bobby turned to leave and jerked his head towards Caleb. “Come on, you don’t need to be in here anymore, kid.”
“Flick, I can drug her.” The big man pushed through the doorway, a bottle in one hand and a face cloth in the other. “It worked last time.”
“She’s got a heart condition; you can’t keep doing that.” Bobby shoo
k his head with regret and observed Hana. Her gaze darted across the room as Caleb hauled himself upright. The name reverberated through her brain; Flick, Flick, Flick.
Flick, short for flick knife. He always carried a blade even in the bush. Hana’s mind worked to remember his habits and where he kept it. In her mind’s eye she saw a ripped saddle cloth trailing around a frightened horse’s legs and Bobby soothing it while he reached for the knife. Right handed. She watched a kinder, more gentle man poke a sun browned hand into his right pocket and take the knife, pressing the switch to release the blade even before it fully left the safety of the fabric. He slit the cloth with ease and threw the ragged pieces behind him, stroking the mare’s long nose with steadying fingers.
“God help me,” Hana breathed, forcing away the panic which affected her thought processes. She cursed herself for not mentioning the sighting at the hospital to Logan. The man disappeared into the crowds so fast she couldn’t be sure, but everything about his stance screamed recognition. In avoiding conflict with her husband, she’d invited catastrophe.
Hana watched Caleb hop from the room on the single crutch. He’d found a knife in the bush hut. Did that mean Flick no longer followed the habit of a lifetime? She forced herself to look at the sagging right pocket of his jeans, desperate to see the thin outline of a blade. She couldn’t tell, the dirty worn material hanging as though filled with all manner of lumpy objects.
“We’re going out to get food; the bros are hungry.” A taller man elbowed Caleb through the doorway and walked through the gap, his confidence way beyond cocky. “Everyone’s restless, Dad. We need to move on.”
Hana recoiled at the sight of an old enemy, pressing herself back against the wardrobe. She shook her head in disgust at Caleb and Bobby, not masking her disappointment and misery at their life choices. “You all make me sick!” she spat.
“Just drug her and come with us.” Paul Dressler jerked his head in Hana’s direction. “Or finish her; you could use the practice.” He tapped Bobby’s right pocket and Hana’s heart soared in victory.
“Don’t tell me what to do, son. This is my show, remember?” Bobby’s fists balled at his sides.
“Well, it’s a stupid one.” His son shrugged his shoulders and turned towards the burly man who chloroformed Hana in her hallway. “Come on, Duke. Let’s get dinner. There’s a Macdonald’s not far from here.”
Bobby’s jaw worked in uncertainty as he faced Hana’s glare. In the end, he relented. “You lot go and I’ll stay.”
His son snorted and Caleb raised his eyebrows. “You’re not gonna hurt her, are ya? She’s been nice to me.”
“I’m not gonna hurt her. Go.”
Hana stayed in her corner listening to the sounds of the house empty around her. The echoes betrayed it as a two storey structure and she tried to map out the wooden creaks and groans in her head. Noises from the window told her the front door was to her left and at ground level. If only she could get to it.
Bobby leaned his backside against the wall and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I didn’t want it to be like this, Hana. But Logan made sure I couldn’t come back for you.”
She kept silent, working out how to snag the knife from his pocket without getting herself killed. Reason gave way to self-preservation and she decided she no longer cared. Her willingness to die trumped a life of imprisonment. Bobby continued to speak. “Logan put me on a plane with false documents and an address to go to in Brixton.” His lips peeled back in a snarl. “He knew I’d never get away from them without a fight. Your husband couldn’t risk me coming back for you.”
“I’m not staying with you and you’re not taking my kids.” Hana’s voice wavered but her resolve held. “I don’t love you; I love my husband.” Her words hurt Bobby and he winced.
“You can grow to love me.”
“Really? You think so. As a hostage? How romantic.” She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wardrobe. Logan’s frequent warnings about the feral stockman reeled in her head and she wished she’d listened. She wished she’d listened about a lot of things and her crimes lined up before her like a list of misdemeanors. “I should’ve left Caleb at the hospital.”
“He’s a good kid.” Bobby looked pleased. “My eldest told me about him and I made plans to come back. I remember his mother; nice girl.”
“Someone else’s life you’ve messed up.” Hana glared at him, green eyes flashing like emeralds in her porcelain face.
Bobby shook his head. “Na. He’s turned out fine. Thanks for taking him in.” His face softened. “It’s good to be all together.”
“We’re not altogether!” Hana snapped. “This is your family; not mine.” Her fingers writhed against her stomach. She whimpered and clutched her collarbone. “My heart, it hurts.” Dropping to her knees, she kneaded her chest. “I don’t feel well.”
“Sorry, sorry. What can I get you?” Bobby knelt down next to her and Hana held her breath.
“I need my medication.”
He swore. “How the hell do I get that?”
Hana didn’t answer, breathing through pursed lips and massaging the space between her breasts, emitting convincing groans of pain. Bobby leaned closer. “What can I do, Hana? How can I help?”
“Get my pills.” She kept her speech ragged and implored him with her eyes. “I need them.”
“Which ones? How do I know what to get?”
Hana groaned and tipped her forehead onto her arms.
“She’s faking.” The tone sounded acerbic and Flick’s younger son stood in the doorway watching the floor show. His father shot him a look of disdain.
“I thought you went for food. She isn’t faking. Find out what pills she needs and rob a pharmacy or something.”
“House,” Hana moaned, running her fingers up to touch the pacemaker. “Ensuite.”
“See.” Flick’s son sounded victorious. “She thinks you’re gonna take her back to Hamilton so you can front out her husband. She’s faking.”
Hana shook her head, the effort of holding her breath making her vision foggy. “No. Hotel.”
Bobby’s head nodded on his shoulders. “Yeah, that’s right. There’ll be some at her other house.” He knelt up, engaging his son in excited conversation. “I’ll go back to the mountain and get them.” He shifted backwards and Hana settled her fingers over the lip of his right pocket.
“Need them now.” She accompanied her plea with a heartfelt groan, the strain in her chest beginning to feel genuine.
“I’ll take her with me.” Bobby sealed his hand over hers, his face showing pleasure at Hana’s voluntary contact. “I’ll take your car.”
“No.” His son sounded resolute and Hana’s heart sank. She made a pretense of retching onto the awful carpet, making the younger man recoil in distaste and Bobby lean forward in concern. Hana gripped his pocket and writhed on the ground, pulling him down on top of her as she spat onto the carpet. Loose change and a battered driving licence tumbled to the floor and Bobby put a hand out to prevent its escape. Hana groaned with genuine relief, her cries muffled by the filthy fibres beneath her face. She grasped the heavy flick knife which slid into her palm and moved it beneath the cuff of her sweatshirt, gathering the ribbed material into shaking fingers. Lifting her arm, she wiped the sleeve across her mouth, feeling the comforting weight drop into the space between her forearm and the soft, fleecy material.
“It hurts,” she whimpered and felt Bobby’s hand pat her back.
“How long will it take me?” he asked and his son shrugged. Hana watched through her lashes as he shook his head at his father.
“You’re not taking her, Dad. Go if you want but I’ll stay here with her. The contractors will arrive soon and you need to get moving. I’ve paid them half up front and if you don’t show, they’ll go without you.” He looked at his watch and his thin lips quirked upwards in a way that sent terror rushing into Hana’s heart. “There’s too much riding on this.”
“What do
they know?” Bobby took car keys from his son’s outstretched hand.
“Nothing. As far as they’re concerned it’s just a removals job.”
Hana’s breathlessness ceased to be feigned and became real. “Don’t leave me with him,” she begged Bobby as he turned to leave. She grabbed his ankle and held on. Strong fingers detached her grip.
“Help me get her back onto the bed,” Bobby ordered, resuming authority. “She needs to drink something; she’s had nothing since last night.”
“This is a fool’s errand, Dad. Give her more of that stuff in the face cloth; she’ll be fine until it’s over.”
“No. Help me, Dominic. She’s got a pacemaker. It’s serious. She almost died a couple of years ago.”
“Whatever!” With a disgruntled sigh, Bobby’s son helped to lift Hana back onto the bed. She rolled onto her side and trapped the arm with the knife beneath her.
“Water,” she begged and Bobby stroked her hair back from her forehead.
“Okay, sweetheart. And I’ll be back in a couple of hours with the tablets.”
“I won’t last,” she whispered. “Need them.”
“I’ll go now!” Bobby ran to the door and Hana gave a sigh of relief as his feet pounded down the stairs. Logan wired their vacant house at the top of the mountain with security cameras in their absence. Anyone entering the property would activate a silent alarm in the hotel reception and draw the attention of the staff. The burly men Logan employed to protect the property and its guests were seasoned veterans looking for a more peaceful existence with their families, loyal men who would apprehend Bobby and contact Logan. He’d know.
“Where am I?” Hana tried to sound muddled and confused. “Where is this?”
“Still Hamilton.” Bobby’s son squatted next to her and handed over a glass of water. “Horsham Downs to be exact. Do you want the postcode? It won’t help you.”
Hana sipped the water and coughed. “Logan came here the other night looking for Asher.”
“Yep.” Dominic’s eyes widened in amusement. “Stupid kid promised us weed and information. But when it came to it, he couldn’t give us either.”
