He bares my midriff and cool air hits me like an icicle. I shiver uncontrollably and when Kael places his palm on the butterfly marking, I arch my back away from him with a sharp intake of breath.
‘No, please don’t!’ I cry. His touch is like a thousand needles piercing my skin.
‘I’m sorry, Shaylee but I must,’ he says in a tight voice, ‘it will ease the pain. Kent?’
‘No, please!’ I cry again, as Kent takes hold of my legs, stretching me out so that Kael can place one palm on my exposed middle, while he cuffs both of my wrists in his other hand.
A scream of pure agony escapes my lips as his skin touches mine and I try to buck away, but both of them are unrelenting. Kael’s hands are cattle-brands, but he holds them in place, unflinching in the face of my pain. Tears stream down my face and the edges of my vision go black.
‘It’s not working. Kael, stop!’ Kent says above the sound of my sobbing. He lets go and then Kael does too and I curl away, into a fetal position.
‘I don’t understand,’ Kael says.
He reaches his hand toward me again but I flinch away.
‘I need to get Tanya,’ he says.
‘She didn’t come back with you?’ Kent asks.
‘No, she’s tracking with Jake.’
‘Tracking?’
‘Yes.’
‘Did you -’
‘Later. I’ve got to find Tanya. This time - stay with her!’
‘I’m not a monster, Kael.’
‘I’ll be back as soon as I can, Shaylee,’ he bends over and whispers in my ear, ‘you’ll be alright.’
His voice is gentle but there is urgency in it that reaches into the darkness I am spiraling into. I want to tell him not to leave me but all I can manage is a quiet groan. He brushes his hand across my forehead again, down my cheek and a second later, I feel only the absence of him and I let go.
When I wake again, it is to pitch blackness. I lay for a while, disoriented and let my eyes adjust and wander around the unfamiliar room until they come to the opposite side of the bed in which I lay.
There, sprawled on his back, sleeps Kael. His shirtless torso gleams against the black cotton-blend sheets, and the duvet, which probably covered him at some stage, now lies in a tangled heap around his muscular bronzed legs and boxer-covered hips.
I run my gaze appreciatively down and back up the length of him, to his face. There is something very innocent and childlike about him, in this unconscious state. A stray, dark curl falls across his forehead and I itch to brush it away.
I remember why I’m here, in his room and run a hand across my middle. The pain has subsided and the butterfly is no longer throbbing. I should get up. I should walk back to my own room next door. I should undress and sleep in my own bed. I should, but I don’t. Instead I snuggle back into the warm bed, on my side, facing Kael.
I watch the steady rise and fall of his chest and the curl on his forehead that moves, slightly with each exhaled breath. I watch as his eyelids flicker with dreams and the corners of his lips turn up, unguarded in sleep. I pull the downy duvet higher, tuck it under my chin and watch Kael, until my own eyes grow too heavy to keep open.
Chapter 27
Suspicious
Tastes like: Bitter cocoa.
Smells like: Smoke.
Sounds like: A mosquito, buzzing around your head.
Feels like: The dry, prickly grass of winter.
Looks like: Wrinkled skin.
The bright morning sun, shining through the unlined curtains, wakes me. I stretch languidly, feeling well-rested and content. I can’t remember when last I had a full night’s sleep like this, uninterrupted by nightmares.
I look to the other side of the bed and realize with disappointment, that it is empty. Only the wrinkled sheets and slight indentation in the mattress offers proof that Kael had, at some point during the night, been resting beside me. I stare at the spot on the mattress and convince myself that it is better this way. It would have been somewhat embarrassing for both of us to wake up together, in the same bed.
Still, I can’t ignore the disappointment. Last night, I’d caught a glimpse of the real Kael again; the one who keeps himself hidden behind those soulful eyes; the one whose touch betrays gentleness at odds with his sullenness. The memory of his face, relaxed and child-like in sleep, makes me smile.
I rise, try to smooth the creases from my strappy top and jeans and run my fingers through my tangled hair. The smell of bacon and eggs, sizzling on the stove has me salivating before I reach the kitchen. There Sandra stands, in her checkered apron, humming a discordant tune as she flips an egg in the pan. She looks up from her task as I enter and breaks into a hearty smile.
‘Good morning, love! Just in time for breakfast. Sit down. I’ll pour you a cuppa.’ She limps toward the counter with a plate of fried eggs and crispy bacon and sets it down before me, gesturing toward the toast and glass bottles of home-made orange-marmalade, apricot and blueberry jam.
‘Help yourself.’
‘Thanks.’
I inhale appreciatively, smear a generous dollop of farm butter onto the hot toast, and bite into it. My eyes close in involuntary pleasure. The low-fat olive-oil spread mom always buys just can’t compare to the taste of real, salted butter.
I chew slowly, relishing each bite and then sigh and opened my eyes. ‘Where is everyone?’
‘They’ll be here soon.’ Sandra says. ‘Did you sleep well?’
‘Yes, thanks.’ I look past her through the kitchen window to where the sun is shining brightly outside. ‘What time is it?’
‘After ten. You had quite a night, love. Feeling better?’
I nod and watch as she fills the mug beside me to the brim with coffee and settles her generous hips onto the stool opposite me. The coffee smells so good and she has gone to so much trouble to prepare this breakfast that I don’t have the heart to decline the cup. I know I will probably have a caffeine-induced migraine to contend with later but I smile and raise my mug to my lips.
‘Kael told me what happened last night.’ Sandra eyes me over the rim of her own mug with a concerned frown. ‘Has it happened before?’
‘No, well, kind of,’ I say, remembering that fateful night back home that had set the wheels in motion for my move to Aylburton, and the headache that morning in Kael’s truck. ‘But I’m fine now.’
‘Hmm.’
She watches me for a moment, still frowning and bends to take a sip from her steaming mug. I dig into my eggs and bacon and there is comfortable silence for a while. When my plate is empty, I sit back and dab my mouth with a serviette.
‘So, what happened last night?’ I ask.
‘What do you mean?’
‘With the fire?’
‘Oh, the fire.’ Sandra says. She sounds relieved, which puzzles me. ‘The fire was extinguished. Thank heavens it only destroyed a few acres; we caught it in time.’
‘That’s good. I was getting worried when you took so long.’
‘No need to worry about us, love. We can take care of ourselves.’
She stands, rubs her hip absently and limps toward the sink.
‘Nan is probably wondering where I am,’ I say, more to myself than to anyone else but Sandra shakes her head.
‘She brought over a bag for you this morning. It’s in Kael’s bathroom and he wants you to stay here until he gets back.’
I feel a flash of pleasure that he should want to see me this morning but then I think, he probably just wants to talk about last night…or lay down more rules.
‘I’m going to shower.’ I say with a flicker of irritation.
‘Sure, love.’ Sandra turns back toward the sink-full of dishes and starts humming again as she washes. The soft clink of cutlery follows me down the passage to Kael’s room, where I find the bag Nan brought, tucked behind the door. In it, are a pair of jeans, underwear, a cotton long sleeved tee and some basic toiletries.
I close the door behind me, strip down and sl
ip into the shower. I reach for the bottle of shampoo from my bag, hesitate and then squeeze a generous portion of Kael’s musky smelling shampoo onto my hands instead. There is something comforting about that smell, but I won’t allow myself to analyze why.
When I am dressed and toweling my wet hair, I hear the front door open. I pause to listen and catch the faint murmur of voices from the kitchen, so I drop the towel onto the floor and pad, barefoot, back up the passage toward the voices. The soft carpet pile muffles my footsteps and as I near the kitchen, I can make out the voices of Kael and Sandra, arguing.
‘She has a right to know, Kael.’
‘And what purpose would that serve?’
‘He’s right, Sandra,’ Nan interjects, ‘there’s no sense in making her more afraid than she already must be.’
‘This is serious,’ says Kent. ‘What are we going to do?’
‘About what?’ I ask, pausing in the doorway.
Everyone turns toward me.
‘Shaylee!’ Nan rushes forward to brush a kiss across my cheek. ‘Are you feeling better?’
‘Yes, I’m fine,’ I say, letting her lead me toward the dining room table where Kael pulls out a chair for me. ‘What’s going on?’
Sandra sends a stern look in Kael’s direction but he shakes his head and drops to one knee in front of my chair. He scans my face, as though he’s searching for traces of the pain from last night.
‘You’re sure you’re fine?’ he asks and when I nod, he exhales. ‘Has it happened before?’
‘Once, but I’d rather not talk about it.’ I let my gaze run over their faces in turn. ‘What happened?’
Nan ignores my question and puts one hand on my shoulder. ‘Kael said you collapsed last night. He came to call me but when I arrived, you were fast asleep. Are you sure you’re alright?’
‘I’m fine. Honestly.’
‘I could cancel your date with Tristan tonight if you don’t feel up to it?’ Nan offers.
‘Is that tonight?’
‘Yes, Tristan wanted to take you dancing.’
Kael frowns and he stands upright and faces Nan.
‘I don’t think that’s a good idea after last night, Tanya.’
‘But I feel fine,’ I say.
‘No,’ he says, abruptly. ‘If you’re that desperate to see your fiancé, he’ll have to come here. I’m not taking any chances.’ He sends a heated glare my way and stalks out the door.
‘What’s gotten into him?’ I say, staring after him.
Nan sighs and pats my hand.
‘It was a long night for all of us. I’ll tell Tristan to join us for dinner instead.’
She and Kent disappear through the doorway and Sandra goes back to the sink. With a confused sigh, I slip into the pool room. I can’t help feeling that I’m missing something important.
Chapter 28
Defiance
Tastes like: A hard taco shell.
Smells like: Burning rubber.
Sounds like: Screaming brakes.
Feels like: A brittle stick.
Looks like: A stuck window.
Sandra and Kent keep me busy at the Gregor’s home, playing pool and paging through photo-albums featuring pictures of eight-year-old Kael, beaming back at the camera with a gap-tooth smile. There are even a few snap-shots of me, holding Kael’s hand beneath the macramé plant on the Gregor’s porch. I wish I had the memories that go with those pictures. I wish I could recapture the childish innocence in Kael’s eyes.
Throughout the day, people come and go through the house, some to drop off fire-fighting equipment, some just to chat. Sandra hugs and kisses each person, like they are close family members and I get the distinct impression that’s exactly what this Maor community is.
She draws me into every conversation, but with such finesse, that the Maor visitors forget who I am, relax, and treat me as just another one of Sandra’s children. It’s a wonderful way for me to meet the Glen community, without the boundaries created by my identity, and it doesn’t take long for me to realize how easy it will be to fall in love with this family.
I don’t see Nan, Jake or Kael until late in the afternoon, when they trudge through the front door. I want to ask why they are streaked with dirt and why their faces look dejected and exhausted but before I can, they disappear again, presumably to shower, and reappear only when the front doorbell chimes.
When I answer the door, Tristan steps into the living room and immediately looks me up and down.
‘Are you alright?’ he asks, and his voice sounds genuinely anxious.
‘I’m fine, really. They’re all just over-reacting,’ I reply, with a smile.
He nods, but doesn’t look convinced. He takes one of my hands, and we stand for a minute, letting the golden warmth of our connection flow between us. Tristan’s eyes become two shades darker and he leans toward me, but then Kent clears his throat from the doorway and we both move apart.
‘Dinner’s ready,’ Kent says, as he turns back toward the kitchen. Tristan follows me into the dining room, where the family is congregating. We greet one another, take our places at the dinner table and I end up sandwiched between Tristan and Kael. It’s like being stuck between two magnets that pull me in opposite directions. I wonder if the boys can feel the tension like I do, but if they can, nobody says anything. The tension dissipates slightly as dinner progresses but throughout the meal, I can feel it, simmering beneath the niceties.
Tristan speaks to Tanya mostly, about the new home his parents have acquired in Lydney, his law studies and current employment in his mother’s law firm. I listen with half an ear, while the other half concentrates on Kael, who hardly says a word as usual.
When the meal is over, Nan suggests that we retire to the porch for some fresh air. I stand to follow them, but Sandra puts a hand on my arm.
‘Would you mind helping me with the dishes, dear?’ she asks.
I glance reluctantly at the others as they file out of the kitchen, but I nod and help clear plates from the table. Tristan stops at the doorway and gives me a questioning look. I smile back and motion for him to follow Nan. He returns my smile and then disappears out the door.
‘You two seem to be getting along well,’ Sandra observes.
I stack the plates beside the sink and pick up the yellow tea-towel from the back of a wooden stool.
‘Yeah, I guess…’
‘You don’t sound convinced,’ Sandra turns on the faucet and gives me a speculative look.
‘No,’ I say, ‘I mean, he’s great – really. But I just don’t see myself getting married anytime soon. I’m too young and there are still so many things I need to learn – I mean, I hardly know anything about my own people.’
‘You have questions about the Maor?’ Sandra asks. ‘You know you can ask me anything, love, I’ll try to help.’
I give her a grateful smile that fades as I cock my head toward the door. I can hear the distinct sounds of voices raised in argument, coming from the front of the house. One of those voices is Kael’s.
‘What’s going on?’ I ask.
‘Nothing, love. Would you hand me that pan please?’ Sandra says hastily. She doesn’t look at me.
‘Doesn’t sound like nothing.’
Sandra stops scrubbing dishes and turns reluctantly to face me.
‘It’s nothing to worry about, Shaylee.’
‘But -’
‘Just let them sort it out.’
Her voice is hard, something I’ve never heard before but I shake my head, throw the tea-towel down on the counter and march down the passage.
‘It’s about me right?’ I say over my shoulder as Sandra hurries after me.
‘Stay out of it Shaylee,’ she warns.
‘If it’s about me, I have a right to know.’
As I near the front door, I identify the other voice as Tristan’s.
‘Absolutely not!’ Kael says.
‘She’d be safer with me than here,’ Tristan returns, his own v
oice rising to match Kael’s.
‘The only place she is safe is with me.’
I wrench open the front door just in time to see Tristan lunge for Kael. He clamps one hand around Kael’s throat and shoves him against the wall. Kael’s face is expressionless and he doesn’t fight back, although I can see the muscles straining in his shoulders.
‘What’s going on?’ I demand.
Everyone freezes and all heads turn in my direction. Tristan looks from me to Kael, immediately drops his hand from Kael’s neck and takes a step back.
‘She is my responsibility, and I’m not going anywhere right now,’ Kael says. I notice that he is the only one who hasn’t looked at me yet.
‘She is my fiancée!’ Tristan retorts, but his voice has lost some of its fire.
Kael clenches his jaw but doesn’t look away.
‘After the wedding, you can do whatever you want with her but until then, she will remain under my care at all times.’
‘Kael,’ Nan says tentatively, stepping forward from the shadows at the porch railing, ‘I know you’re concerned for her safety, but don’t you think -’
Kael whirls on Nan.
‘Of all people, you should understand.’
‘I do, but -’
‘You know my terms, Tanya, so unless you want to move the wedding forward -’
‘No!’ I blurt out. Kael’s gaze flickers across to me at last and I hold his gaze, chin tilted up.
He nods slowly, and turns back to Nan. ‘Then we do it my way, no interference. Or you can find another seastnan.’
He turns and strides off the porch.
When I can no longer see him in the darkness, I turn to find Tristan watching me. He stares at me for a moment and I feel blood rush to my cheeks. The oddly wounded look in his eyes makes me feel incredibly guilty. Then he also turns and stalks off into the shadows.
Chapter 29
Defeat
Tastes like: Unsalted bread.
Smells like: Steam.
Sounds like: A deep groan.
Feels like: Missing the cut-off for a marathon by one minute.
Looks like: A leafless tree, stark against the evening sky.
Five: A Maor Novel (Maor series) Page 15
