I couldn't look down. I felt cold at the thought of sex. Of letting him…letting him…
My courage ebbing as fast as it came, I resolved to give him a blow job. Both the least and the most I could do. I swallowed, hoping I'd be able to follow through with it.
Oh God, I should have had more alcohol to drink. Maybe I wouldn't be so scared.
I could hear Nathan fumbling around with the bedside table. I heard the drawer slide open and glanced over as he reached for the box on top. There were plenty beneath it, all different.
I looked at the box he handed me. Strawberry-flavoured, it said. You didn’t expect this, but you sure as hell hoped, I thought grimly. I grimaced. Pity they taste more like bubblegum than strawberry. Better than bare latex and damned if I’m swallowing for you, Nathan.
He stuck out of the front of his checked boxer shorts like an empty flagpole. I pulled his shorts down, too, so he was bare to his thighs. I didn’t want a mouthful of cotton. I stuck on his hot-pink condom one-handed, kissing his mouth the whole time. Angels need two hands and instructions for this, Nathan. I gently massaged him with my hand. Not small, but not enormous, either. I can handle this. I moved quickly, before I could waver in my resolve. I had a warm, bubblegum-flavoured mouthful before he regained the power of speech. What he did say came out sounding like, "Muh." I sucked harder and felt him thrust in response. I almost choked.
A reverent hand stroked my hair. "You don’t have to do this, angel."
I’m not a fucking angel. Or maybe I am. An angel of death, more like.
I felt a tear slide down my cheek.
"No. NO!" Nathan’s sudden shout scared me. He pushed me away. His face looked afraid and he visibly shrank away from me in more ways than one.
What did I do?
More tears welled up. "I thought you were enjoying it."
He wiped my tears away. "You weren't. Everything I've ever done for you…I'd do it again in a heartbeat. All you have to do is ask. And you still wouldn't owe me anything, angel. Least of all this."
He gestured at his rapidly retreating arousal.
"I can do this," I insisted.
He saw my scars. He saw the damage and didn't want me any more.
"I'm sorry, angel, but I can't." He stood up, turning his back as he pulled the condom off. As if he didn't even want to look at me any more.
I was too tired to deal with this now. If he didn’t want the best blow job of his life from the girl he loved, then I wanted to curl into a tiny, unwanted ball and sleep.
"I’m tired, Nathan," I confessed.
He was all attention, without a hint of disappointment or disgust. "I’ll find you one of my shirts to sleep in. I’ll go wash up while you change."
He threw the shirt to me and hurried out of the room. The used condom fluttered to the floor in his wake, limp and unloved. The opposite of me as I stretched out, skin now wrapped in shirt and sheet. Sensationally sated, yet saddened.
Part 67
"Would you like me to sleep on the couch or in here with you? I can sleep on the floor, if you prefer," Nathan offered.
My body was still buzzing as I reached out for him. "Here's fine. Hold me, Nathan. I feel safer that way."
He spooned up to me and I sighed as I relaxed into sleep.
"No…no…please wake up. No...you can't be dead. Caitlin…please…wake up…" I woke to Nathan's panicked voice as his hands patted me.
I'm not dead. I think I'm not dead. No, I'm breathing. Definitely not dead.
I stayed still, trying to keep my breathing even as I gathered my straying thoughts. My dream hadn't been bad.
"Angel, I'm sorry…I'm sorry…Oh God…"
I swallowed and said, "Nathan? It's just a dream, right?"
"Caitlin? Caitlin? Please…" I could feel his face through my shirt as he listened to my chest. My shirt felt damp from…tears? Could he really be crying?
"It's okay," I murmured, cuddling closer to him.
"Angel?" He lifted his head to kiss me lightly. "It's okay. You're safe. You're safe…" His arms tightened around me.
"I'm safe," I repeated, hoping it was true. If he hugged me much tighter, he might break my ribs.
"Safe…" he murmured. "I'll keep you safe, angel." His grip relaxed a little.
I waited for his breathing to become even before I dared fall asleep again. His nightmares were getting worse – and becoming more dangerous, too.
Part 68
Tied – Mike – Her – Knife – Cutting – Blood
I screamed as hot pain sliced across my thigh.
"Hold still. You, hold her still," she said.
A warm body landed on my midsection, crushing me to the cold concrete. Denim-clad legs pinned mine down, apart.
Another slice and another scream.
"I can gag her, too, if it bothers you, ma'am," Mike said.
"No need. There's no one to hear her," she said carelessly. I heard the knife point scrape my skin, the pain a constant burn now. "Shine that torch here. I want the letters clear."
I tried to scream, but there was no voice left. A hoarse whimper was all the sound that came out.
"What the fuck are you doing?" I rasped.
She ignored me, intent on mutilating my body. She lifted the knife, so it glinted in the torchlight. "There. A little present for the ASIO boy." She looked down at my legs. "No. I need to do the other one, too. They must match."
She stabbed the blade into my other leg.
I cried out, but no one took any notice.
You promised. You promised you wouldn't let them hurt me.
I struggled, not caring any more. Chris couldn't keep his promise and I couldn't keep fighting. I'd make them kill me instead.
"Oh shit! The knife dug too deep because you couldn't hold her still. Now she's bleeding everywhere. I must have caught a vein…we're out of time. She won't survive the night, bleeding like that. Send Chris in here. Make sure he knows where you've left the keys, so he can dump the body. Follow him and call the police as soon as you can. We need him caught with it."
When did I become a sexless thing you could call 'it?'
"Yes, ma'am. What do you want me to do with her?" Mike asked.
"Knock her out so I can finish. I only need to cut one more letter."
Something heavy collided with my face and darkness seeped into my head.
Part 69
When the sun had risen, I woke alone to the sounds of Nathan speaking angrily with another girl. I pulled on one of Nathan's sweaters and approached closer to investigate, just in time to hear her call him a paedophile and me a child.
His sister. The one who's my age. She must be. And that doesn't make sense. If he was a paedophile and I was a child, he wouldn't have turned me down last night.
She repeatedly warned him away from me as he protested, refused and defended me.
Inwardly, I cheered.
"Can't you put the coffee away when you're done with it?" she muttered.
He mumbled something about leaving it out for her.
"I don't drink decaf. You're the only person I know who drinks coffee without caffeine in the mornings. Where's the point in drinking coffee that doesn't do anything?" I heard the clunk of glass on wood, before a cupboard door slammed.
I wondered about Nathan and his distaste for caffeine. The only people I knew who preferred decaffeinated coffee had it in the evening, so they didn't have trouble sleeping. But Nathan…oh! Nightmares and insomnia…of course!
I waited for his reply, but the silence stretched until she broke it, her words leaving me cold.
"Not a girl who’s been abducted. After she’s been raped and God knows what else, the last thing she wants is a man anywhere near her. Least of all you."
I needed to see Nathan's face, to see if her words had any effect on him. Quietly, I stepped into the doorway. Neither of them saw me for a moment.
A thinner, angrier version of Alanna whirled around and started swiping at the bench with a pot-
scourer. I wondered if their laminate bench top would lose its surface beneath her frenzied scrubbing. She stood with her back to me, while I could see Nathan's profile as he watched her. He seemed to have trouble forming a response, but he didn't look happy. He rocked a little in his seat, like he was trying to exorcise a memory.
You shouldn't have used the r-word. It sets off his guilt. Turning my attention to Nathan, I summoned a smile as I called his name.
His smile and, "Good morning," left me feeling like I was his perfect dawn and not the pariah I'd felt like last night. Before the nightmares started. Rescue me, his eyes pleaded.
Thinking quickly, I asked for his help in the shower, hoping he wouldn't freeze up like he had last night. I needed to know if any of her warnings had sunk in to his traumatised consciousness. And if last night was simply a result of him drinking too much, never to be repeated.
He agreed and I left, but I'd barely made it two steps from the door before I realised he hadn't followed me. Carefully, I rested against the wall as I waited.
I let my eyes roam around the ceilings, looking for the surveillance cameras that had to be here. His sister would surely have as much protection as I did. Yet I saw none. Maybe they'd used better technology for this house because she was more valuable. Or maybe there was no surveillance…I sat puzzling out what that meant as they shouted insults at each other for a bit longer.
Nathan finally left, angry and upset, but he stopped as soon as he saw me.
I stretched a hand out for his and let him help me to my feet. He held me tighter than usual as we walked together to the bathroom, as if he was afraid to lose me.
Don't worry, Nathan – I already know your alter-ego is Mr Sleazy Roommate. And last night you showed me you won't take advantage of me. A compunction I don't share.
Once the bathroom door shut behind us and the shower water muffled our conversation, I resolved to find out whether he still wanted me after last night. His sister didn't need to know.
I slid my hands up his shirt, caressing the firm muscles I knew were hidden beneath the fabric. He stiffened at my touch, but he didn't pull away. I tried to pull his shirt off and he lifted his arms to assist me.
So far, so good.
I pulled off my own sweater. My heart sank as he closed his eyes before he could see anything. Do my scars really make me that hideous? Was last night just a drunken mistake?
Cautiously, I pressed my naked body against his. He still had his shorts on, but they weren't much of a hindrance. I could still feel his eager response to my proximity.
"Would you like me to help you in the shower?" His breathless voice surprised me, as did his open eyes, fixed on my face. The guilt wasn't gone, but it was fading.
I smiled as I accepted his offer.
His hands on my body were as tender as last night, lifting me into the warm water as he stepped into the shower with me in his arms.
I looked down. His soaked shorts clung to his body, hiding nothing.
"I'll keep it in my pants," he swore.
I laughed, cupping his cheek as I kissed him. "How are we going to do this?" I murmured.
His arms were full of me and I couldn't wash myself with the two of us so close.
He looked puzzled, like he hadn't planned this, either. "I don't know," he said finally. "We don't have a chair I can stick in the shower for you here. Maybe…if I set you down on your feet…do you think you can hold onto me for support while I help you wash? If you like. I'll be a perfect gentleman, I swear."
Somehow, we ended up standing like dance partners in the shower, swaying a little under the warm rain. The promised perfect gentleman reached for the soap and proceeded to demonstrate his prowess, like a dishwasher with a delicate china plate. No passion – just professional boredom.
I endured it, holding still as he caressed my body with the bar until I was clean. If I couldn't see his shorts, I'd have thought my bare skin had no effect on him.
He clinked the soap back into its dish and placed his arms around me again, careful not to let my breasts touch him. "Now, let's get you wet and you'll be all clean," he murmured, turning with me so more of the spray rained down on me.
I chose my words carefully. "What if I'd prefer to be wet and dirty with you, Nathan?"
He stared at me, shocked. "What…what do you mean?"
Fuck, Nathan. I know you heard and understood the words. Should I have just said, "Finger me, Nathan," instead?
With equal care, I grasped his hand, pulling it down. "You…remember what you did last night? I want to know I didn't dream it." I swallowed, already regretting my impulse. "Please."
His expression softened. "You were a dream last night. I never thought you'd trust me enough to let me touch you like this, let alone pleasure you like last night," he murmured, one finger lightly stroking. I shivered in relief. "Are you sure you want this?"
"Oh yes." I threw my arms around his neck, kissing him deeply as his caresses deepened, too.
"Don't…stop," I panted, before returning for another kiss. This kiss didn't cease until I collapsed against him, spent.
He may have been an absolute dream, but Nathan was no nightmare, that was for sure.
Part 70
Nathan's hands lingered dreamily on me as he helped me dress, as if the scars didn't deter him in the slightest in the light of day. I wondered what had turned him off so completely last night, if it hadn't been my body.
The sound of crockery scraping in a metal sink reminded me of his angry sister. Perhaps I was asking the wrong person – she knew him better than I did.
Nathan offered to help me to the kitchen and make me breakfast, but I shook my head. I'd never get her to be honest about him within his hearing. "You should go hang the towels up and get into some dry clothes," I suggested, glancing down at the prominent torch he carried for me in his soaked shorts.
He flushed and grabbed the damp towels, mumbling as he strode away.
I waited until I heard the toilet door close before I hurried to speak to Chris. I didn't know how long it'd take him to jerk off.
"How long has he been having nightmares?" I asked softly as I entered the kitchen.
"Since she went missing," she responded, equally softly.
"Has he slept with any girl since?"
"He's fooled around with a few, but none of them ever stayed 'til morning," she replied.
I felt a blush colouring my cheeks. "Maybe it's because we didn't."
She lifted her eyebrows at me.
"Your brother's good with his hands and his tongue. Do you really want the details?" I took in her panicked expression. "Fifty bucks says he's making use of his hands to relieve the pressure right now. Give him some credit."
I heard the slam of a door. That was quick.
She turned away from me, staring out the window. I followed her gaze to where Nathan was pegging the towels on the outside clothesline.
I shrugged and started searching the kitchen, trying to work out what to have for breakfast. For a moment, I regretted not taking Nathan up on his offer of a full cooked breakfast. I had a craving for bacon…
"He’s not even making you breakfast?" she asked, as if she'd read my mind.
"No, I talked him out of it," I replied in Nathan's defence.
She stared at me in shock, as if she hadn't expected me to reply. "How did you manage that? It’s difficult to talk him out of anything."
I warmed to the girl. She did know him and she was going to tell me what I needed to know, even if Nathan was listening. Maybe an insult would make him move out of earshot. "Difficult? He’s as stubborn as a mule!"
She evidently thought the same thing, laughing loudly as she agreed with me.
Nathan's scrutiny didn't lessen.
"I’m Caitlin. Nathan seemed too…preoccupied to introduce me before." I almost said rude, but she seemed to understand anyway.
We shook hands as she introduced herself as his sister, Chris, exactly as I'd surmised.
; The girl he'd been trying to protect as he'd let me get hurt. Was it worth it, Nathan?
"Shit, are you all right?"
She'd seen the pain in my expression. I think she took it for real pain instead of bitterness and heartache.
"No, but I will be one day," I replied carefully. I edged away from her, toward one of the kitchen chairs. My legs were cramping a little from the unaccustomed exercise – both last night and in the shower.
She helped me sit down, her voice low in my ear. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"
"No," I whispered back.
"I'll make you a coffee. You just sit and rest. It still hurts you to walk, doesn’t it?" she said loudly.
"Not as much as it did at first, but it still does, a bit," I agreed. I dropped my voice lower. "Especially when I've done…more than I'm used to." I felt my cheeks redden. She'd made no secret of the fact that she'd heard us last night, when she'd been shouting at Nathan earlier. I hoped we'd been quieter in the shower.
"Does he even know?" she asked, turning to look at Nathan.
"Don't tell him. I'm recovering faster than he realises. Let him play Prince Charming for a bit," I whispered.
"Prince Sleazy, more like," she whispered back, before raising her voice to a more normal volume. I tried to choke back my laughter. "Look, I don’t know what you’ve been through, what they’ve done to you or anything. Just don’t assume he’s some kind of Prince Charming because he rescued you. He’s nowhere near perfect – he’ll probably just end up hurting you, breaking your heart. He’s good at that."
I'm not even sure I have a heart left to break. I didn't dare confess that to his sister, though. "Do you think badly of me for staying last night?" I asked instead.
Her expression told me she did, but she evidently noticed my knowing look and denied it.
"No, it's him!" she insisted. "What you want to do is your business, and you’re not the first."
Nathan's killed for other girls? Or let other girls get hurt?
She saw my expression and hurried to explain. "Not the first girl he’s ever brought home, I mean. He’d come in late, not alone, and she’d be gone by morning. I've never seen – or heard – the same girl twice, except when they called to try to get in contact with him again."
Necessary Evil of Nathan Miller Page 16
