I surveyed the room and found nothing more interesting than my own body, with my leg immobilised in a cast most of the way up my thigh. My memories returned with a kick in the teeth as soon as I saw that. I'd broken it, running from the bunker into some rust-lined death pit, and then hauled myself out when Caitlin left me to die. So much for suicidal – when it came down to it, I did want to live after all. I bet she'd laugh if she knew.
Orderly Dreads Dude returned with a full meal tray, but even the smell made me nauseous again. I grabbed the glass of water and pushed the rest of it away. After I'd gulped down the liquid, I tried to find the right words. "Has Caitlin come to visit me?"
His confusion sent my heart plummeting before he'd even opened his mouth. "Nope, no Caitlins. Just the doctor. You got a guardian angel worth its weight in gold when you scored a doctor that hot. She makes me want to meet a shark surfing one morning just so I can end up in her tender hands."
A giggle stopped him dead. "Josh, if a shark bites your backside when you're surfing, you know one of the qualified doctors here will be stitching you up, not me. I'm only here until Nathan's discharged."
Josh flushed and mumbled something as he left.
"Angel," I breathed. "He told me you hadn't come to visit. Just some –"
"Hot doctor?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. "Dr Alana Angel Miller, thank you very much. I earned it."
Now it was my turn to blush. "I didn't mean it like that. I forgot that you're all qualified and stuff now. Sometimes it feels like five years haven't passed and we're the same as we were then, only you're better. And me, I'm..." Worse, I wanted to say, but I didn't dare. She didn't deserve the excuse for a man that I'd become. She should have run and left me to die.
"I'll help you get better, too," she said, lowering herself into the plastic visitor chair like it was a throne. "Locking up the past and not telling anyone about it is eating you up inside. I can see it. You should talk to me, Nathan. Tell me about your nightmares and your memories and let me help you banish them like you did for me."
I pressed my lips together and shook my head.
"Your sister will have you committed. She's got Dr Hogan and a lot of medical reports on her side."
I laughed. "Even if she does, I'll be out in a week. I'm not hallucinating. I'm not a danger to anyone but myself and I know all the right answers to the depression tests to make me sound sane. If I tell you what I did, will you kill me like we did the others? I'm no less guilty than any of them. Will you forgive me and give me the mercy of a clean end?"
Her expression was unreadable. "I forgave you years ago. I told you that before I left for Melbourne. But it wasn't enough for you to leave your job and come with me. I could have helped you then, but you wanted to go save the world, one terrorist at a time, and mess your mind up worse."
I laughed so hard I nearly choked. "What job? I lost my job before you left. I was an unemployed bum with no degree and no references. The dole office got me trained as a security guard, because that's what they figured I was good at, and I've been working as one ever since. The compensation money I got paid – the ex gratia thing? It was barely enough to cover the cost of a car to replace mine. Not even a new car – just a second-hand one, something cheap. You're right. I am worse. I didn't deserve you then and I sure as hell don't deserve you now. You should've left me in the bush to die. That's what I deserve."
"Damn it, Nathan!" Her fist slammed into the bed, jarring my leg and sending pain shooting through it. I let out an agonised whimper before I bit my tongue, knowing I deserved the pain. "Shit, I'm sorry. You saved my life and nursed me back to health with a single-mindedness that even I can't summon for my patients. You know that all I had in my head was vengeance, the whole time I was in hospital and when I was supposed to be recovering? I would have happily died to know I was taking out the last of those bastards with me. And they are gone. All of them. I saw the bodies and so did you. You've made amends for whatever you did. You never hurt me, but you went without sleep, without your family, without your own damn sanity to put me back together again and show me that life was worth living. If you'd personally murdered my whole family and then tried to kill me, you'd have made amends a dozen times over for...oh God. I'm sorry."
Caitlin flung her arms around me and I buried my face in her shoulder to hide the tears. Tears of self-pity that I was at least twenty-five years too old for. But they just wouldn't stop. If nothing else could put her off, maybe this disgusting display would do it.
"I love you, Nathan. Talk to me and let me help you," she whispered. "I won't give up on you. I swear I won't. I owe you my life."
I forced myself to pull away from her, wiping my nose on my sleeve. "You wouldn't say that if you knew what I'd done."
She folded her arms. "Try me."
I stared into her eyes. Those perfect, dark pools that drew me in from the first moment I saw her. I hung my head. "I can't."
She smiled and kissed my cheek. "Then I guess you'll just have to put up with me until you can. And you might be surprised about afterwards."
It was on the tip of my tongue to talk about restraining orders, but we both knew I wouldn't. Even if it tortured me to see her, I'd cherish every moment until she left me again.
"Oh, I almost forgot." She clasped her hands together, then slowly drew them apart and held something out. "This is yours. I found it in the dirt you'd dragged yourself through. It must've fallen out of your pocket. I hope you don't mind – I've been wearing it so I could give it back to you the moment you woke up."
Alanna's signet ring glittered on her palm. Scratched and warped, yet unmistakably hers. Caitlin had cleaned it and tried to twist it back into shape, but the damage was still there. I took it with shaking hands and attempted to slip it onto my smallest finger.
Even Caitlin laughed when it sat like a little crown on my fingertip, too small to even make it over my fingernail.
I swallowed. "You keep it. Then if anything happens to me, at least I'll know that someone still cherishes her memory, even if you never knew her."
"Nathan..."
"Please." My voice died.
She nodded and slipped it back onto her finger, the one where she'd one day place an engagement ring. Or a wedding ring. Her fingers were so tiny compared to Alanna's.
For a moment, staring at my ring on her hand, I dared to hope. Her hand was warm in mine as I brought it to my lips.
"I'll take care of it until you're ready for me to return it," she promised.
My heart plummeted again. Nothing lasted forever and it was only a matter of time before she left me again for good.
FIFTY-FOUR
When we pulled up in front of my place, my heart sank. The last place I wanted to be was the house I shared with Chris. Grimly, I hauled myself out of the car and struggled with my crutches.
"What is it? Do you want me to grab some more of your pain meds?" Caitlin asked, looking worried.
I shook my head. "No, I'm good. I'm just thinking about how much I wish I was going back to your place instead of staying here with my sister. She'll flip when she finds out I've managed to break my leg."
Caitlin seemed unusually nervous – I wasn't sure I'd ever seen her wring her hands before. "I'm sorry. But there's no way you could make it up six flights of stairs to my place. And if we did manage to get you up, I don't know how we'd get you down again..."
I grinned. I had a few ideas. And having her to myself in her house, alone, certainly featured in them. The pain pills must've been making me loopy – I was having sexy thoughts and they were definitely having an effect. Oh, hello... I figured I should probably get inside before Caitlin realised I'd hoisted a flagpole ready to communicate my surrender to her. Oh God, and I needed to take a piss. Three hours of driving after being on an IV drip for days were a bad combination.
With Caitlin's help holding the door, I lurched into the house and the blessed bathroom. I took my time, seeing as I wasn't looking forward to getting back out there
. Even washing my hands was a challenge when my crutches slipped to the floor and I didn't know how to pick them up again. How had Caitlin managed when she couldn't walk?
She was amazing, I decided. A walking miracle. Fuck, dropped it again. Just a couple more inches and I'd be able to reach it...
I managed to get my crutches under me again and opened the bathroom door. The sound of shouting grew in volume as I laboured to get me and my crutches through the doorway and out into the hall.
"Leave him alone!" Chris demanded. "You have no idea what he's been through. First our sister, then you. When you dumped him last time, it broke him. The only pieces I'll be picking up this time are the bits of your broken body if you hurt him again. Fuck off and leave us alone!"
"Do you know how to break a man?" Caitlin didn't wait for her to reply. "First, you take away the one person he loves most and slaughter them in the most brutal way possible. And you make sure he knows about it. Then, you tell him you know who did it and tantalise him with the whiff of revenge. But you don't give it to him. Instead, you show him the girl of his dreams and tell him that he has to hurt her, just like his loved one was. And if he doesn't, they'll kill her and torture someone else he loves instead. And this time, they'll make him watch." She paused and I struggled to stay silent. "And after he's done everything they asked – or refused and tried to save everyone's lives – they don't kill him. They throw him to the police as the culprit for both crimes, until the grief overwhelms him and he takes his own life, because he can't live with what he's done. What THEY forced him to do." There was the sound of a zip being forced down and fabric sliding over skin. "These scars are the price your brother and I paid to save your life. They carved your fucking name into my flesh as a threat to him. So don't you DARE tell me I don't know what he's been through. I had to look into his eyes every day as he shared my pain and there are no drugs to numb the agony he went through."
Chris’s voice wavered as if she was about to cry, the tears only held back by a thin dam of anger. "You think you're the one he loves most?"
Yes, damn it, she is the one I love most. And I can never tell her because I don’t deserve her.
"No," Caitlin said quietly. "The girl he loved most was Alanna. I'm the girl of his dreams. Dreams that turn into nightmares, every night."
“No,” she countered. “He dreams of her. Not you.”
“That’s what he tells his doctor and you. Lies to keep you from the painful truth. Your brother was abducted, just like Alanna and I were, but he was forced to hurt me instead of being tortured. And it broke him. All that time he helped me heal and he was hurting just as much. I owe him the same and you won’t stop me from taking him anywhere he wishes to go. To hell with you and your sheltered illusions. You can’t help your brother. I can and I’ll do it, too.” A pause. "You know what? I don't have to listen to your shit. It's a wonder Nathan does. Tell him I'll come over tomorrow afternoon to check on him."
I reached the lounge room just in time to see the front screen door swing shut behind Caitlin. I made it to the steps to the front door, but crutches and stairs were a nightmare I couldn't negotiate yet, so I rounded on Chris instead.
My sister's mouth was wide open as she stared at me, taking in my crutches and walking cast before her face turned red with anger and she turned to yell at Caitlin's departing back. "Don't you dare! By tomorrow afternoon, he'll have taken out a restraining order against you!"
I laughed as Caitlin raised one arm and gave Chris the one-fingered salute.
"I'll do it," Chris said through gritted teeth. "She did that to you, didn't she? I'll drive you to the police station so they can see. She's not coming in here again."
I cleared my throat. "Actually, I managed to fall into a hole and break my leg all by myself. She called an ambulance and stayed with me until the hospital released me."
Chris snorted. "I bet she set you up, just so she could get you back into bed and nurse you back to health between her thighs. That girl's full of shit."
"She's not," I said softly, my voice so carefully controlled that every word was clear. "She and I did go through hell to save your life. And she's forgiven me for my part in it because she knows why. And you know what? I'm not sure I'll ever forgive myself for it because I'm not sure her sacrifice was worth it. Maybe I should've let them take you instead. And if you go to a police station and accuse her of a crime, you'll have the police and ASIO doing everything in their power to shut you up, because of what that girl's witnessed. You're not a lawyer yet, Chris, and trying to take on federal security legislation you don't understand is just fucking stupid."
Her eyes filled with tears, but her face was still screwed up in anger. "I'm just trying to take care of you like Alanna would."
I shook my head. "You're not Alanna or our parents and you never will be. She never tried to control my life because she knew she couldn't. Stay out of my life, Chris, and the only thing I ever want to hear you say to or about Caitlin is how sorry you are for what you've said to her. Or I'll tell Mum and Dad about your string of biker boyfriends and we'll see how you like someone telling you how to live your life."
I hobbled away, leaving her to her disturbing thoughts. For a moment, I was relieved that Chris knew and I didn’t have to be the one to tell her. Relief died in the realisation that she also knew I was responsible for everything Caitlin had been through. Ah, fuck it. Maybe it'd make her decide I wasn't worth saving and she'd finally leave me alone.
FIFTY-FIVE
What do you do when meeting a man who employed thuggish bodyguards and gifted you with the house where you were held captive and almost killed? He might have been family, but that didn't mean I had to trust him.
I didn't know him. Didn't know whether he'd want to kill me, kidnap me or kiss me. Didn't even know what he looked like. And I didn't have Nathan here to hold my hand if I felt frightened. Or kill for me if things went wrong.
And I didn't want him here, I told myself. I didn't want him mixed up in my family's mess. He'd been messed up by them enough already. If Mohsen wanted to kill me, Nathan wouldn't be able to stop him, anyway.
But he'd been the landlord of a known terrorist. Surely that meant he was under surveillance. I brightened a little at the thought. ASIO might not have been much use protecting me before, but they were better than nothing. Maybe they'd improved over the last five years, especially as Mott, Nathan's dodgy old boss, didn't work there any more.
The big question was whether to arrive early, so I could choose a table and scope him out the moment he came in, before he saw me, or to arrive late, so I could see if he'd brought his bodyguards or an anti-terrorist tail that I could wave down for help if things turned bad?
Force of habit won: I entered the café fifteen minutes early and chose a corner table. I was armed with both a knife and a taser, plus I had some pepper spray in my bag. I prayed I wouldn't have to use any of them. I glanced around the café, hoping I'd recognise an ASIO agent if I saw them. I tried not to laugh when I caught Navid's nod and wave. The man had aged, growing grey hair he hadn't had five years ago, but he also looked like the intervening time had hardened him. If he was here, it was no coincidence. When Mohsen arrived, I wouldn't be alone at all.
So much for not knowing him. A short, athletic man with dark hair entered and I knew immediately he was Mohsen. The expensive suit and shoes only confirmed it. He peered around, as if the bright afternoon sun had blinded him to the dim interior of the café, and I waved to get his attention. His smile of recognition seemed professional and practiced – this man was dangerous.
I clenched my fists. So what if he was dangerous? So was I.
He held up a finger and mouthed, "One moment," as he paused at the counter to order before crossing the floor to my table. "You have not ordered anything, Kiana. May I buy you coffee?" At my hesitation, he added, "If you are worried about accepting a drink from a stranger, consider it a tiny advance on your inheritance."
Grudgingly, I asked for a capp
uccino and one of the strawberry tarts I'd seen as I walked in. He returned to the counter, paid and made his way back to the table. As he removed his jacket, draped it over the back of his chair and enthroned himself, his eyes seemed to be drinking me in. There was no lust in his gaze – just satisfaction, I thought. If he were the villain in a movie, he'd give a pretty impressive monologue, my mind added and I had to swallow my burst of laughter.
"I would like to hug you, but I don't think you would feel comfortable with that yet, so I would like to shake your hand instead. I am Mohsen Rezaei, a cousin of your mother's." I took the proffered hand and accepted the light pressure of his fingers as I shook them. "I am so sorry for her loss, Kiana."
I pulled my hand back. "You know my name isn't Kiana."
He nodded. "Yes, but it is the name she gave you and you did not tell me what else I should call you instead."
I reflected for a moment before replying, "I think Kiana's as good as anything, don't you? You don't know anything about me, or you'd never have sent me to that house. Do you know what happened there?" Despite my resolve to stay calm, I could already feel my temper rising. I forced myself to focus on my breathing, keeping it slow and steady.
His smile lifted his lips but didn't reach his eyes. "I know more than you might guess and I'm sure you have questions, but I will ask you to keep those until I have said what I must. I would like to talk about –"
"I'm not interested in what you want," I interrupted. "You may come from a country where men are considered second only to God and women are worthless, but you're in Australia now, mate, and you sent me to a house where someone tried to kill me. I want answers or you don't deserve my time. I don't care how much money you're offering. If you're not answering my questions, you don't get another minute of my time." I rose.
Afterlife of Alanna Miller Page 17
