The creep of fingers on my skin, beneath my clothes.
I rolled away from him, scrambling to my feet. I tried to ignore the dizziness, back with a vengeance. "What the fuck do you think you’re doing? I’ll break your bloody hand if you touch me without my permission again!"
I could see him only as a stationary shadow, perhaps two metres from me. Between me and the door. Chris's voice was barely audible, but I recognised it all the same. Maybe it was the way it shook, like he was terrified of me. "I have to."
"Like hell you do!" The dizziness didn’t fade and my head started to ache unbearably. So did my jaw. I lifted a hand to my face, trying to rub the pain away.
"Your head still hurts?" Concern coloured his tone.
"Yes," I admitted. "What’s it to you?"
"I have some more pain relief." I heard the rustle and crackle as he pulled the pills out and pressed them from the packet. "And water..." He leaned over to retrieve the bottle. He held out both to me, his arms stretched like a zombie in the dark.
I hesitated. Not because I thought he resembled a zombie. I suspected trickery of a different kind.
My biggest worry was that he'd grab me once I was close enough, overpowering me easily as his strength overcame mine. I decided it didn't matter – if he wanted to grab me, I had nowhere to run. The pills and water were worth the risk. Chris hadn't hurt me yet.
Carefully, I reached out and took both from him. He made no move to approach closer, though I kept my eyes on him as I swallowed the pills and gulped a little more water.
"You stay there," I warned him as I backed away with the water. He didn't attempt to stop me.
I should have wondered why.
Instead, I sat on the edge of the mattress, sipping in silence while he stood between me and the door, a silent sentinel. A standoff. Who would break first? Not me. I had nothing left to lose.
Boredom set in and I found myself drifting. My eyes started to close and I swayed. Muzzily, I decided to stretch out on the mattress, just for a moment, to deal with the drowsiness while the pain ebbed away. He hadn't hurt me. Wouldn't hurt me. Maybe I could trust…
"Finally."
A hand groped its way up my leg. I kicked out feebly and it let go. I barely had a moment to breathe my relief when cold fingers crept beneath the waistband of my jeans. The scratch of the zip before he started tugging on them, denim sliding down my skin and exposing it to the freezing air.
"Let go of me, you bastard!" I screamed out, struggling. Fear turned me colder still. Couldn't trust anyone. Not even the one who helped me.
The hands only tightened their grip, stripping my jeans from me no matter how hard I fought. My body was too sluggish and slow to respond. Did he even notice my poor attempt to struggle?
"I'm not hurting you. Just let me," he begged.
I couldn’t believe my ears. "You want me to let you rape me? To make it easier for you?" I tried desperately to twist away from him, but his grip was unbreakable. "I said let me go, loser!"
"Can't. If I don't do what I'm told someone else will get hurt. And they'll hurt you, too." The sound of him licking his lips. Nervous. Good. "We have to get these clothes off you… then I have to…have to…I've got a gun."
I froze. I wasn't ready to die yet. I didn't know him, nor what he was capable of doing.
Hands slid beneath my shirt once more, pulling the fabric up. I swatted at him with hands so heavy I could barely lift them. Helpless. I couldn't stop him.
"No, please…please…don't…you don't have to do this," I whimpered.
"I do." He sounded like he was in pain. I wished he'd go curl up and die of it. A pause as he yanked my t-shirt over my head. "I won't hurt you. Relax and it'll be over soon."
I smothered a sob and sent my mind somewhere else. Anywhere not here.
Part 36
"Are you ready to give press interviews yet?"
I stared at Nathan. If it was a joke, it sure as hell wasn’t funny.
He looked apologetic. "There’s a press crew around, waiting for you. I heard them talking."
Fuck. Nosy people asking me questions I don’t want to answer. Telling the world what I didn’t want to tell anyone, even Nathan. "I don’t want to, oh hell, not yet."
The sun slid behind a cloud, making my mind up. The light seemed so dim by comparison. Then the cloud was gone.
Nathan wanted to go back inside. I could see that, but I wanted just a little more sun. After all, we were pretty well hidden and I said as much to Nathan.
Reluctantly, he agreed to stay outside with me, so he could help me back inside when it became necessary.
It felt like no time at all before Nathan’s voice told me with regret, "Time to go, angel." He pointed. "Look, they’re taking photos of us."
With his help, I switched my seat on the bricks beside the pool in a patch of sunlight for the wheelchair. I had to hold on, as he whipped it around and started up the hill at a faster speed than I expected.
I heard voices shouting behind us and curled up in the wheelchair, praying that Nathan was wrong and they weren’t following us. The voices grew louder. "No," I whispered, closing my eyes.
I heard the pounding of Nathan’s feet on the path paving, feeling the breath of breeze increase as we gained speed. I didn’t feel the warmth of the sun any more – I felt a chill to the depth of my bones.
When Nathan lifted me into bed, I could feel his chest heaving through his sweat-soaked shirt. I watched and waited as he poured himself some water, drank it and tried to slow his breathing.
"Why would any reporter want to interview me?" I asked carefully, when it looked like he had the breath to talk.
When he started throwing around phrases like “back from the dead” and “Harry Potter” I thought he was joking. If I was in a story, it was most certainly horror – a far cry from children’s stories where the main character survived through magic, miracles or some form of paranormal occurrence. Vampires, wizards, mermaids…no, just me.
But maybe, just maybe…there was a story to tell. No less fictional than any other, really, but who’d want the truth?
The rustling of paper brought me back to the present. Nathan proffered a newspaper, plastered with my name and my picture. I scanned the first few lines and realised it was the print version of the news I’d heard in the Emergency Department when I arrived.
One day I’ll tell this story, I promised myself. I’ll sell it to the highest bidder and to hell with the horror. It wouldn’t be my problem any more.
I looked at Nathan, considering. Every story needs a hero. Even mine.
Part 37
“You’ve made a remarkable recovery. You take care – I don’t want to see you back here unless you’re on prac again,” Dr Aidan said with a smile.
“Me, too,” I admitted as I watched him sign my discharge papers. He’d already arranged more meds through the hospital pharmacy – one of the staff was sending them up now.
I could go home!
"Would you like me to drive you home?" Nathan asked, the moment the doctor left.
I hesitated for an instant before I nodded. I'd trusted him so far – a short car trip was hardly a risk.
A nurse whisked me downstairs, Nathan and a guard following behind. The nameless guard did his best not to make eye contact with me, even as I gave him a beaming smile. Nathan wasn't the only man I owed gratitude for keeping me safe in hospital.
Nathan wanted me to sit in one of the seats inside the foyer while he brought the car around, but I wouldn't do it. The outside bench looked far too inviting. I'd been cooped up inside for too long and the perfect day begged to be enjoyed. He exchanged a glance with the guard before he headed off into the car park.
As he passed the doctors' car park, I smothered a laugh at the sight of Dr Aidan's red Mini. It looked silly between the huge four-wheel-drives and flashy sports cars, but he refused to drive anything else. Idly, I wondered what it was like to drive. Now I was eighteen, Dad would permit me to bu
y my own car instead of borrowing his and I'd barely considered what I wanted.
The guard sauntered into view, headed for the car park. He wouldn't have left unless Nathan was back, so I looked around for him.
Déjà vu. A red Mercedes pulled up in front of me.
The first time, I should have run. Now I could barely walk, but I knew what I had to do. I had to get back inside. I wouldn't let them take me back. I'd die first.
When I saw Nathan get out of the car, I almost cried. I won't get into their car again. I won't, I swore.
"Not you. You can't take me back there to them!" I insisted.
He stared at the car as if he didn't remember. Slowly, he told me that the car belonged to him.
My fear spiralled out of control. "No – I trusted you!" Had I trusted the wrong man?
Nathan backed away from me, his hands up in some sort of surrender. I glanced over my shoulder and saw two hospital security guards watching us intently. I'd never been so relieved.
Nathan asked me to sit down again – on the bench, not in his scary car – and I did. He started to explain how he owned a red Mercedes.
When his voice faded into silence, I kept my voice steady, reminding him of what he already knew, as I fixed my eyes on his shiny mag wheels. "They had a car just like this one. They pulled me into it and drove me...there…and…"
Nathan wouldn't be so stupid as to kidnap me again in broad daylight, under the eyes of security guards who had a clear view of both his car and the number plate. He'd take me home or the police would hunt him down. I was being suspicious and silly. He'd sworn to protect me. Of course he wouldn't hurt me. I laughed at my own silliness.
"But you…" I began, not sure how to finish. I shook my head. "Swear you don't work for them."
"No," Nathan said.
My mind whirled. No he wouldn't swear to it, or no he didn't work for them?
He continued and I tried to pay attention, hoping I hadn't missed anything important. "One of them decided to try and kill me on that beach where I found you."
No one tried to kill you on the beach. They tried to kill me. The police officer tried to shoot you on the road. Don't you remember or are you trying to cover up the truth?
"Would you still like a lift home?" Nathan held out his hand.
Again, I hesitated. I glanced back at the staring security guards and made a decision. I'd get into his car, but not willingly. He'd have to carry me in, which meant the security guards would be suspicious. Just in case.
Nathan believed in my weakness and lifted me into his horrible car without a qualm. Still I worried. At least I was in the passenger seat and not child-locked into the back with Saucer Eyes.
I watched Nathan key my address into his GPS, not saying a word. I knew I hadn't told him where I lived, but he was too flustered to notice his slip. When his eyes strayed to me again, I carefully looked out the window instead.
I wondered what waited for me at home. If he was so familiar with my address, did that mean his colleagues had searched it thoroughly? Had they planted some form of surveillance in there, to keep watch on my house? Why had he bought me new clothes from a supermarket instead of sending someone to my place for mine? Or did he truly not want me to know who he worked for? My head was a mess and Nathan wasn't helping. Tears of frustration sprang to my eyes. I didn't understand him at all.
Nathan wiped the first tear away and I looked up at him in surprise. His fingers closed over mine, but I didn't drop my gaze to look. "Caitlin, it's over. They can't touch you any more." I'd never seen him look so intense. "Or are you upset that I was checking you out?"
Of all the ridiculous things to say to break the serious mood…I burst out laughing. Nathan, checking out my damaged body? He won't hurt me. He won’t even touch me. I'm going to be all right.
"Please, can you take me home now?" I asked aloud.
"Sure, angel," he murmured, starting the engine.
It seemed like no time before he said, "You're home."
I looked out the window and realised he was right. I was home and it hadn't changed at all – the opposite to me. I thanked Nathan as he helped me from the car and into the house.
I told him where we kept the spare key and watched as he dug it out.
I stepped inside, following Nathan's gaze to see where the surveillance cameras were. Ah, on the burglar alarm sensors. That meant the bathrooms, toilet and bedrooms had no cameras – just the living areas.
He turned his eyes to the floor. Before I could ask why, he said abruptly, "You can use my sister's laptop for as long as you need to."
I nodded, thinking of how much I'd have to add to the vague descriptions of my memories. More than Nathan should ever see. Yet I didn't want to say goodbye to him yet. He'd been so kind in driving me home, despite my unfounded fears and my dislike for his car.
"Did you want to have dinner here, or do you have something planned at home?" I offered uncertainly. I had no idea what to offer him for dinner. I didn't even know if we had food in the house, with Dad gone for so long.
I'd have to ask him to order and pay for pizza. I laughed at my own stupidity.
As if he'd read my mind and didn't like the pizza box he saw there, Nathan said, "You should probably have a rest, maybe even a couple of hours' sleep, and I'd stop you from doing that if I stayed. I'll leave you to it...Here's my phone number. If you need me at any time, feel free to call."
He took a moment to pull a receipt out of his wallet, looking around for a pen. I grabbed one from the hall table and held it out. He smiled his thanks as he scribbled his number on the receipt. I read the number over his shoulder – a South Perth one, not far from here, I guessed.
"How about I see myself out?" Nathan's words startled me.
Hastily, I smiled and agreed. Maybe he's the one on surveillance. I hope he's the one watching me through the cameras. Better than a stranger.
He walked slowly out, offering to return tomorrow.
I grasped at the straw. I didn't want to be alone. "Thank you, yes. That'd be wonderful." I wished I had the temerity to demand he stay with me now, but he seemed jumpy, somehow. Maybe he wanted to go home and check on his sister. Surely she had surveillance in her house, too.
I forced myself to close the door behind Nathan, before I hurried to the lounge room window to watch him drive off, my hand pressed against the net curtains and glass as if I could bring him back if I reached out far enough.
Nathan, please don't go.
Yet he did, pulling smoothly out of my driveway and driving away. It felt like he'd taken my heart with him. Lost, somehow.
How strange.
Part 38
Mike – Hide – Dark – Fighting – Chris – Clothes
He took my clothes. All of them. Cold and clinical as if it were surgery. He bundled them up and took them to the door while I shivered. I heard his voice as a low hum in the distance.
"You got all of them? Fuck, have fun with her. Mind if I wank while I watch?" Mike's voice.
My heart froze as I felt cold fingers on my skin again. The mattress moved as his weight crushed it, close to crushing me. And worse.
"No," I whimpered. "Please…"
Never had unzipping sounded so loud. To me, it was louder than the scream I tried and failed to summon from my own lungs. His panting drowned out even my breathing – I didn't want to breathe if it meant the pain that would come next.
"Please," I whispered.
Laughter from further away. "Come on, fuck her. She's begging for it. Just shove it in. I'll do it if you won't. She looks real uptight…"
"NO!" His shout echoed through the room, telling me it was bigger than I thought. He swallowed noisily as he pulled his hands away from me. "I can't."
"You sure about that?" the big bastard asked, an edge to his tone.
"I…can't…not with you watching," Chris said finally. He stood up and moved toward the other bastard.
I struggled to sit up, moving into a clumsy crouch.
"Performance issue, huh? Why am I not surprised?" The rustle of fabric. "I'll take her clothes then. Anything else you need? A dildo, maybe, if you can't get it up?"
Where to go? The door was out, with two of them there. My next best option was to try and hide in the darkest corner I could find. I moved into the darkness.
Chris sounded upset. Good. Two-faced prick. "No. Just…no audience."
The bastard snorted. "Wish it was my turn. Ah, she'll keep." The door slammed shut. Shuffling footsteps on concrete, fading away.
One down. One to go.
"Oh, shit. Angel?"
He'd discovered I wasn't where he'd left me. I stayed silent and tried to move deeper into the dark – away from him. My back touched the concrete wall, cold and rough against my bare skin. I edged along it, trying not to make a sound. I backed into a corner, almost screaming as soft, sticky cobwebs clung to my skin. What if the spiders were still home? I bit down on my lips to keep the scream inside. A deadly spider bite was preferable to what he had in store.
"C'mon, angel. It's dark and it's cold, you have no clothes and you'll freeze. I'm not going to hurt you," he pleaded. He clicked on a torch and started sweeping it around the room.
Knowing he'd find me soon enough, I spat, "No, you just took my clothes and you want to rape me. Like that won't hurt. Fuck you!" The words came out thickly, like I was drunk.
His voice was anxious. "Look, I'm just doing what I'm told."
"So you're going to rape me because you were told to. Big bloody hero." My voice was flat. I edged around the wall, hoping to find another way out. A corner gave way to an alcove and I backed into deeper darkness, where I couldn't see him – only the light from his torch beam. I grazed my foot on a brick, searing pain spreading as it scraped away skin. I didn't make a sound.
"No. I swear – I won't touch you again. They want me to, but I can't do it. C'mon, I know you're not feeling well."
His torch beam played across the edge of my alcove, then approached along the floor. The light touched my toes and moved away quickly.
"Here." The torch clinked to the floor, casting weird shadows as it shone up his body. He started to pull his sweater over his head. I caught a glimpse of the ripple of muscle beneath.
Necessary Evil of Nathan Miller Page 9
