I grabbed her and kissed her. She was too stunned to resist and by the time she'd recovered, I'd already let go. I laughed freely for the first time in what felt like years. "You're an angel. You really are an angel, you know that? I only thought of medicine...that if I couldn't be a doctor, then there was no point in going back. Chalk it up to four wasted years. But if I can use that...and finish a degree...get a job as a graduate...shit, angel, I'll owe you my first paycheck. Dinner in the most expensive restaurant in the city. You'll have to tell me which one that is, though, because I can't afford it on a security guard's salary."
Caitlin covered her cheeks, as if she was trying to hide her blush. I wished I'd kissed her with more passion. She deserved it. "My laptop's in the spare room, the one I'm using as a study. You can use it while I'm at work tomorrow if you like."
I shrugged. "I brought my one, but I had to leave it in the car with all my stuff. Hauling my own arse up here was hard enough. I'm not sure I'd have managed it with a bag."
"So you're up here without even a toothbrush? I might be able to carry your bags up, but I'd prefer to wait until morning when I can ask someone to help me." Caitlin looked torn. "The stalker will be down there. I didn't see him at all down south, but last night I saw someone lurking in the car park as I headed up the stairs. I don't know if my cousin's called him off or if he works for someone else entirely."
Shit, the stalker. I'd forgotten about him. I'd meant to accost him and make him tell me why he was following Caitlin around, before making sure he left her alone. With my broken leg, I'd be bloody useless – no threat to him at all. Caitlin didn't deserve to live like this.
"I can wait 'til morning. Honest. I left my toothbrush in your bathroom last time, anyway. I guess I was hoping you might let me come over again."
FIFTY-NINE
I pulled on my shorts and wandered to the bathroom, hoping that I might wake up more thoroughly if I splashed some water on my face. I'd shared a glass of whisky with Caitlin last night, which had dulled the pain a bit, but this morning it was back with a vengeance. Enough to make me want to slide down the stairs on my bum to go get the pain pills from my car. Maybe if I asked Caitlin nicely enough, she'd take pity on me and...
"Good morning, Nathan. This is Jake, he lives in one of the ground floor apartments and you now owe him a case of beer."
I blinked. Caitlin grinned and the man she'd called Jake stuck his hand out.
When I shook it, he said, "I was just helping Dr Miller here bring some bags up. This is the first I've heard about beer, though." He stared at my cast. "Now I know why you can't carry your own stuff. How the hell did you get up here in the first place with that?"
"Slowly and painfully. Thanks, mate. I was ready to offer her a lifetime of servitude if she'd bring my bags up. Beer's probably easier. What sort of beer do you want?"
Jake snorted. "I prefer to eat bread, not drink it. I'm more of a whisky man myself." He eyed my bags. "Well, you're welcome, I guess. But after I've spent all day sorting out the world's IT problems, one server at a time, I don't think I'll care much. You obey your doctor's orders."
"I'll arrange something after work. Thanks again, Jake," Caitlin called after him as he disappeared down the stairs.
I raised my eyebrows. "You got your IT guy to bring up my bags?"
Caitlin laughed. "Not my IT guy. He does systems for huge companies. If the hospital system went down, they'd call someone like Jake. And he volunteered to help me – he spotted me pulling your stuff out of the boot of your car, took pity on me and decided to be gallant. I think I might have an unopened bottle of cognac in the cupboard – I'll drop it on his doorstep on my way to work. And you –" her tone softened as she smiled "– you take care of yourself. Don't injure that leg any more than you already have. I'll be back around dinner time. Help yourself to whatever you want from the kitchen. If you need me for anything, send a text message to my phone – I'll get back to you on my lunch break." She pulled her jacket on, kissed me so swiftly I didn't have a chance to reciprocate, and closed the door behind her.
Deciding a shower would be better than trying to follow her down the stairs for another kiss, I rifled through my bags for some clean clothes and limped back to the bathroom. It wasn't until I spotted the plastic bag in my wet pack that I remembered the dire threats of what would happen if I showered my splinted leg. I was supposed to bag the whole thing up like crime scene evidence. Shit. I should've asked Caitlin for help before she left.
Maybe the bath... A glimpse of white caught my eye and I looked more closely at the shower cubicle. One of Caitlin's plastic chairs sat in it, facing the door, with a second one shrouded in the shower curtain. I laughed softly. She'd already considered my problem and solved it without a second thought. Shoving the shower curtain open, I saw a note on one of the chairs:
DON'T GET YOUR CAST WET. ♥C
Showering with only one good leg was a nightmare, but thanks to Caitlin's forethought, at least it was bearable. She'd even left towels within easy reach. I could've kissed her, but she was busy at work, seeing to some other lucky patient. When she got home, I promised myself.
I decided to give shaving a miss, despite the itchy stubble, so I dressed and limped to the kitchen to hunt up some breakfast. I wished for a croissant and the sumptuous cooked breakfast from the guesthouse, but toast and vegemite was the best I could find. At least it was better than the hospital fare – a cold, pale, floury mush that was marketed as scrambled eggs. I'd seriously contemplated eating cornflakes again.
Easing a couple of chairs out, I propped my useless leg up on one and sat on the other while I waited for my laptop to boot.
Back to uni next year. Shit, I'd be an old man compared to the other undergrads. Alanna would be pleased – the female students would finally be safe from me. I'd be over thirty by the time I graduated. Better late than never. And maybe, just maybe, I could earn enough of Caitlin's respect back so that she'd consider me as more than a patient. I'd never deserve her, but there was always the faint hope that she'd be willing to settle for less. It'd mean telling her everything. I knew that, and I wasn't anywhere near ready for it. If she knew that I'd seriously considered raping her, she'd run screaming and rightly so. No. I could never tell her. Everything else, maybe, but not that. That one little secret wouldn't place her in any more danger – I knew I'd die before I'd hurt her again. Or let anyone else hurt her.
Maybe I should study criminology and counter-terrorism instead. Now there was a crazy idea.
Shaking my head, I clicked on my favourite browser, only to get an error message telling me I wasn't connected to the internet. It took me ten minutes of swearing at my laptop and changing the settings before I realised that I wasn't at home...and Caitlin's wifi was asking for a password that I didn't have. I tried guessing, but when my first two attempts failed dismally, I decided I'd be better off just asking Caitlin.
I checked my watch. Lunchtime was hours away and I was itching to start planning my future. Maybe her password was as simple as the random code on the bottom of the modem, like ours was. I figured it couldn't hurt. I remembered her mentioning the spare bedroom, where I'd seen a desk last time I stayed, so that was my first guess. Sure enough, there was a modem, but there were half a dozen different alphanumeric codes to choose from. With only one try left, I wasn't game to gamble.
Sighing, I set the modem back on the desk beside Caitlin's laptop. Hmm, I wonder...
She had given me permission to use it last night, I reasoned, and I was only searching the internet, not raiding her encrypted files for her deepest, darkest secrets. Besides, I probably knew them anyway, as the darkest thing in her past was surely me and all that I was responsible for.
I pressed the power button and waited, finding it funny that Caitlin had the same laptop as I did. Mine was six years old and definitely the worse for wear, but hers looked in much better shape. Newer, I guessed, given she could afford it.
I started with criminology, but just th
e thought of forensics put me off. Shit, there were so many options! Five universities in this state alone, plus plenty in the eastern states and overseas. With Caitlin here, though, I didn't want to be too far away from her. I'd missed her too much. That still left me heaps to choose from, and pages of information to scroll through.
Considering everything that piqued my interest, I slowly read through the results before rejecting the options that would take too long, not get me a job or just weren't me. Biology degrees looked boring – chasing after animals or spending hours on my knees, looking at plants or puddles or things that were too small to see. Microbiology...shit, I'd go crazy, cooped up in a lab. If the other staff didn't go insane first, from having to work in a confined space with me. Pharmacy...far too tempting. Despite the number of sleeping pills I took just to sleep, I wasn't addicted to anything yet, but if I had access to that sort of supply...I'd be bound to try self-medicating and that could only end badly. Psychology was bad for two reasons – it'd take years longer than anything else and I didn't really want to know the technical names for what was wrong with me.
Gradually, I realised that the only options I wasn't ruling out were physiotherapy courses. Caitlin was right – it was perfect for me. I clicked on the course requirements, tapping my fingers on the desk as I waited for the page to load.
My stomach gave a fierce growl and I glanced at my watch, wondering if it was time for lunch yet. A second check at the time on the laptop told me the watch was accurate – and it was nearly two in the afternoon. A few hours and Caitlin would be home...and I could kiss her for providing me with the perfect solution for my future. But first...lunch.
I made myself a sandwich and ate it by the window that overlooked the hospital where Caitlin worked. Maybe we could meet up for lunch sometimes if we worked together. Maybe...
I should contact the course coordinator and the admissions office, to find out what I'd have to do in order to start studying physiotherapy next year.
I shoved the last bite of lunch into my mouth and returned to the laptop. Yep, there were the numbers. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and swiped the screen. Nothing. I tried again. Nope. I pressed the power button, watching the screen slowly glow into life before it flashed a low battery warning and blinked off. It shouldn't have been such a surprise – I couldn't remember the last time I'd charged it. Maybe before Caitlin had called an ambulance to pull me out of that godforsaken hole in the ground. No wonder the battery was flat.
I laid the useless phone on the desk and decided to email them instead. Clicking on the email address opened up my email program, which always took a while to load as it checked for fresh messages. I sat back to wait, scanning the screen for all the unopened emails I'd received while I was in hospital. Advertising for products I didn't need, surely, and maybe a few I might want. Nothing came up. Not a single ad.
I peered at the last read email on the list and my heart froze. The subject was Alanna Miller and the sender...shit, the sender was me.
My hand shook as I opened it. And the next one. And the one after that. There was a whole list of them, all opened. Every single one was full of my inane ramblings in the middle of the night as I'd written my emails to the only person I could confide in – Alanna, the sister I'd never see again.
As I read and reread the words, remembering the descent into darkness each one represented, it slowly dawned on me that there were worse things than my nightmares.
The emails had been opened and read.
On this laptop.
Alanna's old laptop.
In Caitlin's apartment.
She knew.
SIXTY
I trotted eagerly up the last few stairs, relieved to be home and looking forward to spending an evening with Nathan. I'd been lonely for too long, but it was more than that, too. We fit. Whatever was wrong with us, we'd fix it together, or at least we'd try to. And there'd be no one else coming after us, ever.
Well, except maybe Jake if he didn't like cognac.
I glanced down and the bottle was gone from his doormat, so presumably he or his girlfriend had accepted my thank-you gift. Maybe Nathan and I could have some of the top-shelf whisky in the liquor cabinet tonight.
I unlocked the door and pushed it open. "Nathan?" I called. "I hope you don't mind – I brought pizza. After the day I've had, I don't want to cook and there's this specialty pizza place up the road that does the best pizzas, so I asked for their signature one for you. It looks better than mine, and that's saying something." The whole place was dark – he hadn't turned any lights on. Maybe he'd decided to have a nap. "Nathan?"
Clicking the light on with my elbow, I crossed to the dining table and set down the pizza boxes. He wasn't in the lounge room and I could see his made bed in the guest room. My room was empty, too, so I tried the spare room next.
Nathan was hunched over, his head resting face-down on his crossed arms on the desk surface. I reached for his shoulder. "Nathan, are you all right?"
He lifted his head and stared at me with bloodshot eyes. "You knew," he whispered, then staggered to his feet, backing away from me as if I frightened him. "You fucking knew!"
My smile faltered, but I forced myself to keep it in place. "Knew what?"
Nathan waved at the laptop, then his own head. "Everything. Everything I did. All those times you asked me to tell you about my nightmares and you already knew! You read my emails to Alanna!"
"I wanted you to tell me yourself. To help you recover. It's what she would have done."
He strode forward and ripped the name badge off my shirt. "You're not her! You're not!" Tears streamed down his cheeks, confirming my suspicions as to why his eyes were so red. "Why did you take her name, of all the ones you could have used?"
"I didn't have a choice. It was one of Mott's sick jokes. At first, I wanted to change it, but as time wore on, I realised it wasn't an insult but an honour. She was a better person than I was and she would've made a better doctor than I am. She wouldn't have run away to Melbourne when you needed her. She'd have fought for you. I bet she did fight for you, to her very last breath. And I wish they'd taken me first and that she'd been the one to survive, because you'd tell her what was hurting you and why and you'd let her help you instead of shutting her out the way you do to me!" I wiped the tears from my face. Anger and grief had no place here tonight – I needed to stay calm if I wanted to help him.
"You didn't know her." His voice sounded dead, lifeless...devoid of all feeling. "How would you know anything about what she was like? You never met her. And she wasn't stronger than you. You survived and she...didn't."
I swiped the touchpad on the laptop and the screen burst into life. A few taps opened the last email his sister had ever sent. The one about him and me.
"I survived because I had her brother to be my hero, to save me from his sister's fate. I survived because of her sacrifice. And I did know her, Nathan. She told me I'd be perfect for you and she wanted to be the one to introduce us. I guess in her own way, she did. Even in death she was looking after you." I pointed at the screen. "Read it."
Nathan's eyes darted suspiciously from me to the laptop before he capitulated. I stood silent while I waited for Alanna's words to sink in.
"You're trying to tell me that was you?" If anything, his suspicion had deepened.
I wet my lips. "I got there early. I was the only one in the lecture theatre and she mustn't have seen me, because she raced through her whole presentation with her eyes closed. When she opened them, then she saw me. We talked for a few minutes and she asked me why I wanted to study medicine. I remember the words, because I used them myself plenty of times: one day I could save someone's life and that will make it all worth it. And she said I sounded just like her. Then she mentioned you and your reputation." Laughter bubbled up. "I didn't think you were my type." I closed my eyes. "And on the beach, when you told me your name, all the pieces fitted together. I knew your sister and I knew who you were and I believed you'd gotten mix
ed up in something that wasn't of your making. And I trusted you."
He couldn't seem to get the words out. "You trusted me? You...knew. Me and her and...what I did. My worst...my darkest..."
I nodded.
"You should have left me in that pit to die."
"No. You're not one of those bastards, Nathan. If you were, I would have killed you a long time ago. I made that decision in hospital and I've never regretted it. Alanna was right and I bet whatever afterlife she's in now, she's enjoying watching us as the longest-running soap opera she's ever seen. She wouldn't begrudge you happiness without her, Nathan, and I agree with her. You saved my life and you'll never hurt me."
I needed to touch him, to reassure him and maybe myself, too. My eyes never leaving his, I closed the distance between us and kissed him, wrapping my arms tightly around his neck so he couldn't pry me free. He didn't respond and I pulled back.
"Yes, I've seen the darkest depths of your soul. And they're not as fucking dark as you think, Nathan. I wouldn't love you the way I do if they were. D'you hear me? I love you, Nathan."
His eyes blazed, but I didn't fear him. Never Nathan. I stood my ground as he reached for me, grasping my already ripped shirt and tearing it further until it slipped to the floor, ruined. "Angel," he said hoarsely, his gaze lifting from my breasts to my face. His kiss was sudden and fierce, inflaming my passion even as it fuelled his. He backed me up against the window, his body a rigid wall of muscle pinning me in place. No softness at all – especially not where it counted. I fumbled to undo his pants to free him, but he grabbed my hands and pressed them to the glass above my head. "No. You first, angel."
His hand slipped into my pants and I cried out as his fingers expertly found their target. My legs turned to jelly so it was only his hold keeping me upright.
Afterlife of Alanna Miller Page 19
