by JD Nixon
Reluctantly, I pulled away and looked at him. He was exhausted and emotionally drained. I led him back to a sun chair and sat next to him, holding his hand. I ran my other hand gently over his chest, over his hundreds of scars.
“Who did this to you, sweetie?”
He took a deep breath. “My mother’s sadistic fuck of a boyfriend. It took a long time. Day after day. Every night, when my mother had passed out in her own vomit, which was every night, he would cut me. With a Stanley knife. After he had done other things.”
“Other things?”
“Yes. Other things. Sex things. These slices were his way of counting how many sex things he did to me. I usually got two or three fresh ones each night.”
“How old were you?”
He shrugged. “Eight, maybe nine. He wasn’t the first to do those things though. There were others, for as long as I could remember. But he was the first to mark me.”
“Your mother?”
He breathed in deeply. “She was a drunken junkie who should never have been allowed to have any children! She let men rape me in exchange for drug money. What kind of a mother would do that to her only child? I hope she rots in hell!” His hatred was vehement and so unlike his normal placid personality.
“What did you do?” I asked, blinking away my hot sympathetic tears.
“I ran away from home when I was eleven. After that sick monster did this,” touching his face. “I refused to . . . participate . . . in a group activity he had arranged with six other monsters. He became angry. The others held me down while he used one of those old-fashioned bottle-openers to teach me a lesson. They cheered him on until I was . . . subdued . . . and then they took turns with me. Over and over again, so roughly, until I couldn’t stand. I ran away that night.” He gave a sharp bark of laughter that held no amusement at all. “Well, I guess I should say more accurately that I crawled away that night. I wasn’t able to run for a while.”
I slipped my arms around him, and wondered whether Daniel was the gang-rape victim that Heller had spoken about in the car with Lily. He laid his head on my shoulder and I stroked his hair. “No wonder you had to look away when I had my stitches. Where did you go? Eleven is so young. Too young.”
“The street. Where else? I scrounged, stole, sold myself. Whatever it took to survive. When I fourteen, I picked up a very rough man. He left me badly injured, crying and bleeding in a dirty alley and I decided that there was no point in continuing my life. So I bought some rum, drank half of it, smashed the bottle, slashed my wrists with the broken glass and lay down to die. I wanted to die, was looking forward to the peace of death. No more beatings, no more rapes, no more disappointments. No hunger, no pain, no shame. No more loneliness. No more life without any love or friends. No more predators. No more wishing I’d never been born.” He was silent for a long moment, rubbing his eyes. “Blissful nothing. I knew nobody would care. Just one less street kid to worry about, right?”
I wanted to cry but instead stroked his hair tenderly and kissed his forehead. When I was sure that my voice wasn’t going to wobble, I asked, “And?”
“Heller stumbled on me. Literally.” His laugh was dry. “He tripped over me chasing someone down the alley.”
“He took you to the hospital?”
“No. He took me back to his home, the one he had before this place, and nursed me back to health. Sounds corny, but that’s what he did. Sid and Clive were already living with him by then. Niq wasn’t. I was very suspicious of them all at first. I kept waiting for some request for payback, a certain look or touch that let me know what was expected of me – some kind of ‘party’ with them. Never happened. Then I started waiting for him to turf me out. It’s not easy to raise a teenager who hasn’t had a good life and I admit I wasn’t an angel. I was wild with anger at the world and I took it all out on Heller. I made his life very difficult at times. But he didn’t turf me out either.”
He laughed, but only with his normal gentle, affectionate humour this time. “I remember so many times struggling in his arms because I was threatening to leave and he wouldn’t let me. I bit him, I kicked him, I punched him, I spat on him, I cursed him. I stole money from him and used it to buy booze and pot. I’d stagger home drunk and stoned and yell at him and swear at him and tell him that I hated him. I even kept trying to bring men back to his place, so I could earn some money for more booze and pot. And when he wouldn’t let me, I sneaked out and picked up men anyway. He and Clive spent half their lives out on the streets looking for me. God, I was horrible to him. But he never gave up on me, even at my worst. Not once. He persevered with me, showed me patience, helped me realise who I really was and could be, not just what life had made me. He forced me to study, helped me get a qualification in business management, taught me life skills and then even gave me a job. So here I am still. And I will probably never leave him, he means that much to me. I love him more than I ever thought I’d be capable of loving someone.”
He was silent again, before saying quietly, “I was a nobody and he made me a somebody.”
I was so touched by his story that I couldn’t speak for a while, overcome by emotion. I hugged him tightly. When I could muster my voice again, I asked, “And does Niq have a similar history?”
“Kind of. And so do Sid and Clive. But I’ll let them tell you their stories themselves someday when they’re ready.”
“What happened to the boyfriend? The one who cut you?”
He didn’t answer straight away. “I’m not sure. Heller tracked him down and later told me he’d dealt with him. He wouldn’t tell me anymore, but just said that I didn’t need to worry about him ever again. I don’t know what happened, and to be honest, I don’t really care.”
I absorbed what he’d said. “Do you think that Heller . . .”
“I believe that he took care of that man permanently. But we’ve never discussed it. And if he did, then I’m glad that he did. I hope he did him slowly and I hope he hurt him badly.” The vicious hatred in Daniel’s voice settled uneasily into the balmy night air.
“What about your mother?”
He was evasive. “I’m not sure. But I don’t care if she’s dead either. I hope she’s dead.”
We sat in silence for a while. My head was spinning. Could Heller really be a cold-blooded killer? And did it matter if he was, if he killed such monsters?
Daniel yawned hugely.
“You should head off to bed, sweetie,” I suggested. “You look whacked.”
He protested weakly.
“Go on,” I insisted. “Go to bed and get some sleep. I’ll clean up here. Or do you want me to sit with you for a while tonight? I could stay with you if you like. I’ll sleep on your lounge.”
He gave a small, crooked, heartbreaking smile and shook his head. We walked to the stairs together holding hands. At the door, he turned and came back, kissing me on the cheek and saying simply, “Thank you for listening, Tilly. I’ve never really spoken to anyone besides Heller about it all before. It’s made me feel – I don’t know – sort of relieved to tell you. You’re so easy to talk to.”
I hugged him tightly. “I’m so glad we had this chat, Daniel. I think I understand you much better now.” He gave his half-smile, kissed me on the cheek again, and slipped downstairs to his flat.
I watched him disappear before turning back to the chairs to clear up. A dark shape stepped out of the shadows in front of me, blocking my path.
“Shit!” I shrieked in fright.
“It’s only me,” the shape said.
“Jesus, Heller!” I said, my hand pressing against my pounding heart. “You scared me half to death. What are you doing up here?”
“I might ask you the same question,” he shot back. An appalling realisation dawned on me.
“You’ve been here all along, haven’t you? Can’t I have any privacy in this place?” I demanded wearily, sinking down onto one of the sun chairs. The breeze picked up and I shivered. He stood over me.
�
�I witnessed what happened, yes. Very touching, Matilda,” he answered, his face unreadable in the dark, his tone wooden. I bristled immediately. I sensed some kind of strong suppressed emotion radiating from him, unsure what it was, but pressed on regardless.
“You shouldn’t spy on me.”
“I was up here on the roof-top before you even arrived,” Heller explained with deceptive patience. “I followed Daniel. Niq told me he was coming up here. It had nothing to do with you.”
“So you were spying on Daniel?”
“No,” he said through gritted teeth. “I was not spying, I was keeping a watch on him. That’s what I do when he gets in this kind of mood. I need to make sure he is protected.”
“Protected from himself,” I stated bluntly.
“Yes.” He gave a mirthless laugh. “Maybe this is a surprise to you, Matilda, but I care very much for Daniel. I don’t want anything to happen to him. In fact, I care very much for everyone who lives with me.” He shot me a pointed glance. I turned away, hugging myself tightly.
But I was still miffed about his prying, remembering what Daniel and I had done and said. “How dare you listen in on what we were saying? That was a private conversation between Daniel and me. You had no right to listen. It was private! Do you even know what that means? It had nothing to do with you. Nothing! You should have left,” I spat out angrily.
It had been a long and trying day. I was emotionally drained and my arm was aching again. I’d rarely felt so angry so quickly. I admit it, I completely lost my temper. I did not want to speak to Heller right then, so jumped up and moved to pass him, my good hand pushing hard against his chest to no effect.
“Get out of my way!” I snapped.
Before I knew what had happened, my arms were pinned behind my back and I was arched backwards, his body pressing down on me. He leaned over me until his face was only a few centimetres away from mine and I could feel his breath on my face.
“Don’t ever raise your hand to me again, Matilda,” he hissed menacingly between clenched teeth. “Do you understand?”
I nodded quickly in fear, my eyes glued to his. He let go of me, then wrapped his arms around me pulling me in tightly against his body, pushing my face against him. I struggled furiously and he wrapped his arms even tighter, impeding my breathing and restricting my movement. With no choice, eventually I calmed down, and as I stood there imprisoned in his arms, my head against his neck, listening to his pulse, breathing him in, my anger melted away. This was a man who had rescued and nurtured at least four damaged people, maybe five if you included the mythical Victor. It was no wonder that he was so protective of them. When I was calm for a while, he kissed me gently on the forehead and released me from his grip. Silently, without a second glance, I walked away and left him alone on the roof-top.
Chapter 21
The next day I was in trouble again, twice-over. As soon as I arrived at work, Heller called me into his office where he ticked me off for letting Niq have sugary foods the day before, complaining that the little teenager had been bouncing off the walls all night long, chattering non-stop and refusing to go to sleep.
I apologised and promised not to buy him anything like that again. And I almost meant it.
Later that afternoon, he yelled at me to come into his office again where he berated me about the azalea bush caught in the grill of the 4WD that I’d driven to the shopping centre. It was only discovered when the next men to drive the vehicle investigated why it was overheating and making a funny noise.
I tried to explain my extreme hurry to depart the carpark and how driving over the garden bed had actually been a clever and strategic shortcut, but he wasn’t buying my story. And it all only served to remind him of my altercation with those men and my misuse of the capsicum spray and he grew even angrier. To Daniel and Niq’s great amusement, I was sent back to my desk in disgrace, the vague threat of never driving a Heller’s vehicle again hanging over my head.
The day after that, even though I wasn’t sure whether he had calmed down or not, I stood at his office door trying to rally my courage to go in and talk to him. Before I could knock though, he looked up and noticing me hovering, gestured for me to come in. I sat down opposite him, leaned on his desk with my elbows and looked at him beseechingly. I knew he wasn’t going to like what I had to say.
“What is it, Matilda?” he asked, growing impatient, leaning back in his chair.
“My mother would like you to come to lunch on Sunday,” I started, hesitantly. I had no idea how he was going to react.
He stared at me as though I had just told him that I liked to eat spiders. “Why?”
“Because she wants to meet you.”
He shrugged indifferently. “You may tell your mother that I don’t care to socialise.”
“She’s not really asking to meet you, Heller, she’s demanding to meet you.” He sat forward in his chair and looked at me with some interest. I nervously continued. “She’s only just become aware that I’m living with four men and a teenage boy.”
“Just become aware?”
“Well, I may have inadvertently forgotten to tell her that part of our arrangement,” I confessed.
He raised his eyebrows. “How did she find out then?”
“I don’t know but when I find out who blabbed, I’m going to kill them. She hit the roof! Ranted at me for fifteen minutes straight on the phone last night. The only way I could get her to stop was to promise to let her meet you.” I paused. “She means well, she’s just worried about my safety. And my morals.”
“And she now insists on meeting the potential despoiler of her darling daughter?”
I smiled. “Something like that.”
He leaned back in his chair, his arms behind his head and regarded me coldly. “Sorry Matilda, but as I said, I don’t care to socialise. Particularly with people’s mothers.”
“And that’s that?”
“Yes.” I knew there was no point trying to persuade him otherwise.
That night I rang Mum and told her that Heller was too busy, but that I would love to come for lunch. She was not happy, to say the least. She took it as a personal affront. I had to hold the phone away from my ear during her tirade. I became cranky.
“Mum, he’s a business owner. He works all hours of the day and night. He doesn’t have a normal life like other people, so you can’t expect him to behave like other people! He’s busy!”
“Why are you defending him against me, Tilly? Are you involved with him? Are you sleeping with him?” she demanded angrily.
“Mum! Not that’s it’s any of your business, but no! For heaven’s sake, he’s my boss.” Hmm, today probably wasn’t the time to tell her that I thought about it constantly though.
We hung up, the atmosphere tense between us. My mother is not a prude and is not clingy; she is normally a well-adjusted, loving homemaker. But I am her youngest child by some years (my two older brothers are in their mid-thirties), and I’m her only daughter, so she is very protective of me, as is my father. She worried constantly about my virtue, without accepting that my virtue was long gone. I felt bad that we had argued, but my sex life wasn’t any of her business. Not that I even had one at the moment for her to worry about.
The next day Heller and I drove out to meet a potential new client.
“You got me in trouble with my mother,” I told him sulkily.
He was surprised. “What did I do?”
“You refused to come over for lunch. Now she thinks I’m sleeping with you.”
“Because I refused to go for lunch? That doesn’t seem logical to me, Matilda.”
“There’s nothing logical about it. I’m going to have to face a third-degree when I go for lunch. You don’t know what she’s like. She’s very persistent. And she always knows when I’m lying.”
“But you’ve got nothing to lie about. You aren’t sleeping with me, so what are you worried about?”
“Oh, you just don’t understand. There’s going to
be a scene.”
“And so what if we were sleeping together? It’s not illegal for two adults to do that, you know. I hear that some people even enjoy it.” He glanced sideways at me, that sexy, sly half-smile arching his beautiful mouth.
“Hmm, really? I must try it again sometime before I die,” I said dryly.
He looked at me again, grinning. “Been a while, has it?”
I nodded and gave a frustrated laugh. “Seems like forever.”
“There are plenty of men out there, Matilda. No reason for going without,” he advised.
“I know, but I suppose I just want . . .” And once again, I wasn’t able to finish that sentence.
He waited for a moment. “What is it that you want?”
I was honest. “I don’t know.”
“I think that’s your real problem, Matilda. You don’t know what you want in life.”
I groaned to myself – was he going to give me his version of The Lecture? I readied myself for it, but we continued to drive in silence. Because he didn’t preach at me, I thought about what he’d said. It had the unmistakable glimmer of truth about it. I didn’t know what I wanted in life. But I knew that I was a little closer to fulfilment now that I’d started working for him and had a purpose and a sense of belonging.
He spoke again. “Your mother should realise that you are a grown woman and can make your own decisions about your life. Whether they are good or bad.”
“Tell me about it!”
“Look, I’ll make you a deal. I’ll pick you up after your family lunch and meet your mother then.”
I was taken aback. “Thank you, Heller. That should shut her up for a while.”
“I’m only doing it because it will be enormously entertaining to me. I don’t imagine for a second that actually meeting me will allay your mother’s fears at all.” I hadn’t thought of that, but he was right. Meeting Heller would only make Mum worry about me even more. I sighed deeply and slouched down in my seat. “But if it will help, I promise I will swear on a stack of Bibles in front of your mother that her lovely daughter remains as virginal as the day I met her,” he teased.
