Caitlin glanced at me and smiled, but didn't say anything.
A seagull landed on the railing, screeching its displeasure at whatever had pissed it off.
"Alanna eventually gave up on catching fish and just sat next to me, watching my line. That's when Dad decided to give his rod a go. He baited it up, threw it over his shoulder and I heard the line whizz out over the water. I looked just in time to see the seagull diving for something, then fly up again, flapping frantically. Dad started reeling in his line right away, but I didn't understand why until the seagull started flying toward us, even though it looked like it was trying to fly away. The stupid bird had gone for the bait and taken the hook as well. Dad tried to reel that seagull in so he could try and free it, but the closer he got, the more the bird flapped until it was almost at the end of the rod, it was so close. Dad dropped the rod on the jetty and tried to grab the seagull to cut it free. The bloody bird went berserk. It flew up, hook, rod, and all, and then splashed down again because the rod was too heavy for it to carry. It splashed around on the surface for a bit before it took flight – without the line or the rod, which sank under the jetty. Dad started shouting and swearing at the stupid bird, Alanna giggled and then I caught another fish. Dad packed everything up, but he had to wait until I'd managed to reel up my fish. He yanked it off the line and threw it at the seagull, but the bird flew away and the fish landed in the water instead." I smiled at the memory. "When we got home, Mum went nuts. We'd been sitting on the rusty old tracks, dangling our legs off the edge of the jetty, and our pants were covered in rust stains. Alanna was horrified that she'd been walking around with a brown bum. She burst into tears and Mum blamed Dad for the whole mess, but it was my idea to sit on the train tracks."
I kicked at the tracks beneath my feet now, which weren't rusty at all. "This jetty isn't the same. It's like even my memories are gone. Stolen, somehow, like Alanna was. I remember her as really tough when we were in high school and uni, but I guess she wasn't, not really. The way she shrieked and danced around in fright when she caught her first fish and it moved..."
Not tough enough to survive. What I'd give for her advice now on what to do about Caitlin. I mean, here we were together at the end of the jetty, with no one else around and the sun setting over the ocean. I knew this sort of romantic shit worked. Any other girl five years ago and I'd have grabbed her and kissed her until she was helpless to resist me. With Caitlin, I couldn't. She needed to resist me, just like I had to resist giving in to my feelings about her. But I wanted...
Caitlin's eyes met mine, filled with sympathy and pain. I wanted to kiss it all away and turn her sadness to joy in my arms. Mine. No one else's. But I couldn't. I wasn't good enough for her.
As if to taunt me, she pressed closer. "It's even colder in the breeze out here," she said softly.
Every bit of my being wanted to wrap myself around her and never let her feel the cold again, but I forced myself to pull away. Shit, it felt like I was tearing myself in two.
I shrugged out of my jacket and draped it around her shoulders. "Take it. You need it more than I do."
A tear sparkled on her cheek, tinted with gold in the sunset, but she wiped it away. "We should head back and get dinner. The ladies at the ticket office mentioned a fish and chip shop in town – Cod Rocks, they said it was called. They have fresh Spanish mackerel and whiting. We could bring it back to the beach to watch the stars come out." She ducked her head to slip her arms into the sleeves of my jacket before she zipped it up. Her arms folded across her chest, shutting me out of her warmth and her heart.
Trust me to mess things up for her. At least I was good at something.
"Sure. Whatever you want," I replied dully. Shivering in the cold, I led the way back down the jetty to the shore. Wishing the stiff breeze could ice over my heart.
FORTY-SIX
The sound of screaming jolted me awake. I was out of bed and charging across the hall before my brain had caught up with my body, but the thought of Caitlin in danger only quickened my stride. Of course I recognised her scream. It had haunted me for five years.
I tried her door, but it was locked. Shoving my shoulder against it, I cursed the sturdiness of wartime building materials, then remembered I was the one who'd locked it, at her request. Ignoring the sleepy onlookers who'd emerged from their rooms to find out what was going on, I snatched up the key from my dresser and frantically tried to fit it into the lock. My fingers were slippery with sweat as the screaming continued. Oh God, I couldn't lose her now. Not now...
I wrenched the door open and strode into the room. A quick scan told me the windows were closed and Caitlin appeared to be alone – but she gasped for breath and let out another agonised scream.
Nightmare. I dropped to my knees and reached for her, trying desperately not to listen to what she was screaming. If I let the words in, I'd be a gibbering mess on the floor and I couldn't help her. Besides, when she woke up, she'd tase me anyway. I just had to rouse her...
Swallowing, I pulled her into my arms, tightening my hold as she struggled. One flailing fist struck me hard enough to summon stars, but I didn't let go. Her body might have recovered, but her mind was locked in a nightmare that I needed to free her from. Caitlin didn't deserve a messed-up head like mine. I heard my own voice murmur the same soothing litany that I'd said so many times in the past. Who I was, that I was here and that everything would be all right. This time it was true.
A throat cleared behind me. "Mate, I think you should step away from the girl." Beth's husband, who'd helped us with the pool table last night, stood in the doorway. His expression was grim.
"Not until she's –" I glanced at Caitlin. Panicked, wide-awake eyes stared back, "– awake." I eased her onto the pillow and rose.
"Probably best if you go back to your own room now," the man continued. Behind him stood a bathrobed Beth and a small crowd of pyjama-clad, whispering onlookers.
I wanted to shout at the lot of them. People judging what they didn't understand. Yes, I locked her in her room because she asked me to. Yes, I grabbed her while she was asleep and screaming at me to let her go. Yes, she's been horribly abused and it was my fault, because I was there and did nothing to stop them. Yes, I'm a lower form of life than pond scum. And yes, I'm allowed to live – outside of prison, no less – because she saved my life and spoke in my defence. Though I didn't deserve it. Instead, I shoved through them to my room and the faint hope of sleep. A forlorn hope, but one I clung to.
"Are you all right? Do you want me to call the police?" I heard the man say.
Yes and no. I already knew her answers, so I didn't stay to hear them.
"Get out of my way. Don't touch me!" Caitlin's sharp tone cut through the low hum of strangers' voices. "Nathan. Nathan, please don't go."
I turned.
She stood in the doorway, wearing a soft cotton nightdress that proclaimed to the world that she was no angel, playing with one of the thin straps as her eyes pleaded with me. "Nathan, I want you to stay with me." She hugged herself, the way she used to when she was close to tears. If it wasn't dark, I knew I'd see the familiar shimmer.
I couldn't refuse and she knew it. As soon as I was close enough, she grabbed my hand and yanked me into her room, but someone's foot stopped her from closing the door behind her.
"I don't think that's a good idea. Let me call the police," the same man said.
"I'll be fine," Caitlin replied. Her clipped tone implied that no one else would be if they didn't follow her orders. "If you need to call the police, or an ambulance after I'm done with him, I'll let you know."
An ambulance? Was she going to shoot me instead of using a taser?
I waited for her to close the door before I said, "If you're going to shoot me, better take me out into the bush where there won't be any witnesses. Burial's easier, too. Plenty of caves and sinkholes south of here."
Her eyes bored into mine. "And you said you weren't suicidal."
I shrugged. "I'm
not. But if you want to kill me, I won't fight you, that's all. And I wouldn't want you to get into trouble for what I see as justice. If you feel I need to die for what I've done, then I agree with you."
Caitlin shook her head irritably. "Nathan...I didn't ask you to stay so I could shoot you, okay? I wanted to thank you. Thank you for waking me up from that...that...and for being there to reassure me. It's been a long time since anyone...and I'm grateful not to have to deal with it alone."
"Do you have nightmares often?" I asked, unable to stop myself. It was none of my business. None of my damn business and she'd tell me so, right before she kicked me out into the condemning crowd outside...
"No. Honestly, I don't. Maybe once a week or a fortnight. It's just the memories and the stress and being in a new place and...well, I can't help but remember things around you." Her rueful look turned to panic as she tightened her grip on my hand. "It's not your fault! It's not, I swear. Being in Perth stirs up the memories, too. Please...please can you stay?"
She already knew my answer, but she'd asked anyway. "You know I can't sleep with you." Even now, I couldn't call my curse by its name. Impotence...hissing in my head like a snake. A limp snake.
"I know, but...if I have any more dreams, you're the only person I trust to wake me. If anyone else touches me, I'll...unless it's you. You're the only one who can touch me without making me want to run, screaming, in the opposite direction." Her watery smile didn't reach her frightened eyes. I knew what it was to be terrified of your own dreams.
I nodded once. "I'll get a blanket and a pillow and I'll sleep on your couch. If you have any more bad dreams, I'll be here."
"Thank you." This time, her smile was heartfelt.
Ten minutes later, I stretched out on the sofa, my eyes fixed on her as I swore to guard her until morning. I'd even save her from her dreams if she needed it. There was nothing I wouldn't do for her. I only wished I could do more.
FORTY-SEVEN
Sunlight and sweet singing...I knew it couldn't be heaven because I didn't belong there, but for a moment I wondered if someone had made a mistake. A hissing sound I hadn't noticed ceased and so did the singing. I opened my eyes to Caitlin exiting the bathroom, a towel tucked tantalisingly around her breasts. Shit, my head wasn't the only part of my anatomy waking up. Of all the times for my dick to decide to check in...
The towel came off and I bit down on my tongue to stop myself from moaning. I swallowed, trying to ignore the salty tang of blood. "I should go."
Caitlin's gentle laughter was music to my ears. "I don't mind. You've seen it all before, Nathan." She slipped on some lacy little knickers.
My dick shot up in salute. Fuck. Think of something, anything, to settle down. Caitlin screaming and squirming in my arms last night. Nope, that didn't work.
I glanced again, just in time to see her turn as she fastened a matching lacy bra. Sweet handfuls of heaven. God, I wanted to slip my hands inside the cups and scoop her out like...
Cold shower. I needed a cold shower.
I scrambled off the sofa, bundling the blanket in front of me to hide what she did to me. No way in hell would she let me near her if she knew how much I wanted to help her out of that underwear and take her on the bed. I mumbled something about a shower and fled.
Fifteen minutes later, still shivering from my wintry shower, I stumbled on half-numb feet to the dining room. Avoiding the coffee with a glass of orange juice, I set my breakfast beside Caitlin and slid into the chair next to her.
She swallowed a mouthful of croissant. "Good morning."
I mumbled a response through my toast – even after five years, I couldn't stomach breakfast cereal and it looked like she couldn't, either – and watched as she popped a strawberry into her mouth.
"Oh, you're up." Beth seemed stunned to see me, but she managed a smile all the same. "Are you ready for your cooked breakfast now? The one you ordered yesterday?"
I nodded, not remembering what I'd ordered yesterday. Pancakes or eggs or a whole buffet – I had no idea.
Caitlin parted her lips to permit another strawberry inside.
Dead bodies, morgues, hospital theatres with lots of blood, tears, the nauseating smell of disinfectant...anything I could dredge up from my brain to stop myself from walking around with a hard-on all day. Shit, what was wrong with me this morning?
Breakfast arrived, in the form of a huge plate of steaming...well, everything, really. I wasn't sure I could eat it all. I stuck half the grilled tomato in my mouth and bit down. Cooked to perfection.
"So what were you planning to do today?" Beth asked cheerfully.
I struggled to chew and swallow so I could answer.
Caitlin beat me to it. "Nathan and I were discussing the caves down south last night. I was hoping we might get to explore one today. I heard there were some unusual fossils from animals that fell down sinkholes and died in the caves, their bodies perfectly preserved. Is it true there was a thylacine – one of those Tasmanian tiger things? I thought they only lived in Tasmania."
I choked. The caves. Sure we'd talked about them – as a place to dump my dead body. My libido withered and perished.
Beth and Caitlin were both looking at me. "Lake Cave, Nathan? Or would you prefer Jewel or Mammoth?"
I coughed and managed to say, "Sure. Whatever you want." I shovelled a crispy piece of bacon in my mouth, relishing the taste. If I was going to die today, at least I'd get to enjoy my last meal. And death would be delivered by the hands of a beautiful woman I'd do anything for. Death row inmates never had it this good.
FORTY-EIGHT
A gust of wind slammed the ticket office door, echoing like a gunshot. Nathan, who'd been crossing the deck to the start of the stairs, dropped to a crouch, covering his head in panic. I wasn't sure what had gotten into him this morning – he seemed frightened of his own shadow. Was it because of my nightmare last night or something else entirely? He'd barely said a word to me in the car on the way down to Lake Cave.
"Well, he looks like he's one wrong word away from suicide. I haven't seen a case of PTSD that bad since the Fourth of July in the US. Where do you bet he was stationed, Afghanistan or Iraq?"
I stopped mid-stride and stared at the man who'd spoken. What the hell did he know about it? I gritted my teeth as I replied, "There are worse things than war that can do that to a man."
He grinned as if my cold gaze had no power over him. His eyes seemed unnaturally dark. "So you're his friend – girlfriend, maybe? Get out while you can. You don't want to be the one to find him when he offs himself. No one needs to..."
Suicidal. I knew it, this prick knew it, but Nathan wouldn't admit it. I'd give anything to be able to help him, if only he'd let me in and tell me what he was thinking.
"My love, are you scaring people? Maybe we should have spent the day at home," a gentle voice said. The woman who owned it kissed the man's lips and smiled.
"Hey, if you want to chain me to the bed, you know I'm up for that, Mel. Like I said..." His dark eyes bored into mine and I found I couldn't breathe. They weren't just dark – they were like black holes, sucking at my soul. The man was evil. Ultimate evil and...
"Don't let him scare you, honey. He sees the worst in any situation. He's been through hell for longer than anyone should. Bringing him back is a challenge, but he's worth saving. I'm sure you understand. Sometimes they're strong for too long that they forget how to ask for help from those they love and that's when a kickass heroine has to save the day. But not in a single blaze of glory. With patience and persistence and maybe even love." She cleared her throat. I realised her hand gripped my wrist while my fingers were firmly wrapped around the hilt of my hidden knife. I looked from her hand to her friend. His eyes didn't seem so dark any more – in fact, they were the same light grey as the woman's. And he looked worried – concerned for the woman. Shit, he looked at her the way Nathan stared at me.
My mouth opened, but no sound came out. How had she touched me without me noticing? And
was she talking about Nathan as if she knew him or her demon-beset friend?
"Angel, are you okay?" Nathan rose from his crouch and continued walking toward me, quickening his pace.
The strange woman removed her hand and it felt like she withdrew comfort with it. "I think you know exactly what I mean, for you have your own hero to save. Good luck." She bobbed her head and took the questionably evil man's arm. "All souls deserve a chance at redemption, don't they, my love?"
Her companion nodded, keeping his eyes firmly on the decking as they walked away.
"Honestly, Luce, I'm beginning to think chaining you to the bed wasn't such a bad idea after all." Her soft footsteps carried her down the stairs to the level below us.
"Of course it's not a bad idea. I suggested it. But it only works if you're there with me..." the man replied, his voice fading as they descended.
I forced myself to place my hands by my sides. I wanted to shake the strange woman's words out of my head, but they rang too true for that. From the worried look in Nathan's eyes to the way he broke into a trot when he thought I was in danger...I'd known it all along. After all these years, he still carried a torch for me that he was terrified to light.
"Is everything all right? I saw you reach for...for your knife and I thought you needed help. Did you know them? Did those people hurt you – now or before? Were they..." His eyes widened in what I recognised as fright. Nathan couldn't hack being my bodyguard any more, no matter how much he wanted to protect me. Last night's nightmare had traumatised him more than it had me. Like the strange woman had said, it was the heroine's turn to kick arse. And the first one that needed a kick was mine. Enough stalling. I needed to see the house Mohsen wanted to give me so I'd stop worrying. Once I was no longer having nightmares about nothing, then I'd kick Nathan's supposedly sacred arse.
Afterlife of Alanna Miller Page 15
