‘Maybe Harriet doesn’t need him...like you assume need,’ she’d suggested, but he’d snorted.
‘I’m hearing rumours and they’re not pretty. I wish she could find someone else...’
Maybe Harriet and Luc, Beth thought as she pushed her ball up and winced as unused muscles screamed their protest. But for some reason... The thought made her feel ill.
So much for just being friends.
She had to get her ankle back to normal and get herself out of here. Make herself a new life.
Learn again to be independent.
He’s too good a friend to lose...
He was that, she thought, but the atmosphere in the apartment now... Aagh!
‘So what do you do at night?’ Harriet asked into the suddenly loaded silence.
And that led to even more loaded silence.
We spend the night concentrating on not jumping each other. That was the honest answer but she could hardly go there. What happened was usually an early dinner, a trip to the beach, time playing with Toby on the sand...pretending they weren’t a family? And then home. No. Back to Luc’s apartment, not home, she told herself fiercely. And she’d say she was tired and head to bed. She’d lie in the spare bedroom beside Toby’s cot and listen to Toby snuffle in his sleep and try not to think about Luc in the next room.
Sometimes Luc was called out to work and then it was easier. Or almost easier because then she kept thinking of what he was doing, putting himself in harm’s way. That didn’t lead to sleep either.
All in all...friend or not, it would be easier if she was staying somewhere else, she thought, but how would Luc feel if she rejected even that much of his friendship?
‘Hard, isn’t it?’ Harriet said sympathetically.
And Beth thought, I’ve been silent for too long and she knows. She guesses...
‘Yeah, well...’
‘It probably is worth fighting to stay friends, though.’
Harriet’s voice had turned thoughtful. Beth figured she was using this to distract her from her own problems, so that was okay. She should even encourage it.
Except talking about it was hard.
Even thinking about it was doing her head in.
‘How about gaming?’ Harriet asked into the stillness.
And Beth thought, What?
‘Um...gaming?’
‘Mystic Killers,’ Harriet said. ‘It’s an online game. Sam...you’ve met Sam? She’s one of the other nurses on SDR and she’s pretty much my bestie. She’s been researching stuff that might help me kill time, and Mystic Killers does seem to work. Turns out swatting dragons can get rid of a whole heap of angst. Off with their heads. You need to watch the fire spouts, though. And the babies.’
‘Really?’ She said it with such caution that Harriet smiled.
‘Oh, yeah. The ones with forked tongues are the worst. Sam’s set me up as Sneak-Swiper and I’m getting better at dodging. It beats lying in bed thinking about what I’m about to do with the rest of my life. Hey, another ten push-ups of this dumb ball and we’re out of here. You, too? Do you have time before picking up Toby to learn to play?’
‘I...guess. But my eyes... Harriet, I can’t...’
‘Oh, Beth,’ Harriet said, instantly appalled. ‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t think. I should have...’
‘It’s okay.’ She managed a smile across at her friend. ‘That’s something I’ve learned not to flinch at.’ She hesitated and then looked at Harriet, at the mess that was still her leg. Did she know her well enough now to say it like it was?
Why not? She’d had enough people tiptoeing around her when her sight had gone, assuming the worst. Luc, front and centre.
‘I’m thinking that might be something you need to face in the future, too, now,’ she told her. ‘A lifetime of people questioning whether you’re up to things. Sometimes it’s concern and care. Sometimes it’s not, it’s downright patronising, but if you look for patronising you’ll spend the rest of your life defensive.’
‘Yeah,’ Harriet said grimly. ‘I see that. So Luc...concern and care?
‘You’d better believe it.’
‘And patronising?’
‘He doesn’t quite get the distinction but he tries.’
‘But not hard enough.’
‘I don’t think he can try any harder,’ Beth said bluntly. ‘And I have no idea how he can do any better. But that’s okay. Another couple of weeks and he can stop trying again. We’ll go back to being...’
‘Friends?’
‘I hope so,’ she whispered, and then pushed herself together. ‘But gaming...what is this Mystic Killers?’
‘Something to play at night if you can’t...play at night. And something to vent a little frustration on. Or a lot. But if you can’t...’
‘I’m not good with fast objects on small screens.’
‘But maybe...’ Harriet paused for thought and then grinned. ‘Hey, there’s an enormous screen in the health education unit on the top floor.’ She hauled her hospital ID out of the top pocket of her gym gear. ‘They hardly use it and I’m officially allowed access. Do you have a big telly at home?’
‘I... Yes. Back at Namborra.’ Or wherever she ended up.
‘There you go, then. Learn here and you’ll fly. Okay, Beth, hold onto your hat, I’m about to introduce you to a whole new world.’
* * *
There’d been a minor crisis in the outer suburbs but it was very minor. A recycling warehouse had caught fire. It had produced a frightening amount of flames and smoke, the authorities had panicked and pulled in the big guns, but the team came back to Bondi in a chopper with no patients. There’d been no casualties apart from a bit of smoke inhalation. The local medics had it under control.
It meant, though, that Luc had missed his time at the beach with Toby and Beth, and he’d definitely missed it. It was now almost nine, the time when Beth usually said goodnight, headed into the spare room with Toby and closed the door behind her.
She might already have the door closed.
He had to get used to it. Another couple of weeks and she’d be done with rehab and out of here, he thought, as he rode the elevator to his apartment. It was the way things were, the sensible option.
But he didn’t feel sensible. He felt frustrated. He had so few nights left and he’d just missed one. He put his key in the lock and felt tension tighten across his forehead. Please let her still be awake...
He opened the door—and stopped short.
She was still awake. She was wearing the soft, blue jogging suit she wore for rehab. Her hair was tousled, she was nestled under a rug on the sofa with her braced leg on a chair in front of her, she was wearing headphones and she was...
Staring at the world’s biggest television. It took up almost the entire wall unit.
There were dragons on the screen. Large dragons. As he stared, one lunged forward, all fangs and fire, so real, so vast he almost backed out of the door.
Beth’s hand rose on the controller and the dragon exploded into a thousand gory pieces, sliding down the screen and disappearing into the ether.
‘Got him! Awesome! He fell right into my trap.’ She glanced around at Luc and her grin almost split her face. ‘That’s Slime Vader taken care of. Let’s see what else they can throw at me. Let ’em come. I’m ready.’ She typed something fast on the screen and then put the remote aside. ‘They can regroup for a while, not that it’ll do ’em any good. Sneak-Swiper’s in control.’ And then she turned her grin to him. ‘Hi, dear. How was your day?’
He...blinked. A domestic scene...the little wife bearing slippers and domestic harmony... Not so much.
‘Dragons,’ he tried, cautiously.
‘Mystic Killers,’ she said, as if that explained everything. ‘Sneak-Swiper and I are on a mission. You want to join us?’
‘Sneak-Swiper?’
‘That’d be Harriet. She doesn’t seem to enjoy it as much as me—she’s not bloodthirsty enough—but she’s more skilled and I’m improving every minute. Did you see the end of Slime Vader? I’m Mouse-Who-Roared, by the way. That’s intentional. Everyone knows dragons are scared of mice.’
‘I... Of course.’ He ventured a little further into the room and looked around with caution. ‘Um...my telly? My sound system?’
‘I didn’t trade them in, if that’s what you’re thinking,’ she said, and chuckled, and the sound of her laugh was a shock. It was warm and deep and true. It was a sound he hadn’t heard...for years?
It made him think...
Don’t think.
‘They’re safely stowed under my bed,’ she assured him as if that was entirely sensible. ‘With my rubbish eyesight, I couldn’t game using your set.’
‘So you bought a new one?’
‘Hey, I’m sensible.’ She stood up and wobbled and reached for her crutches. He didn’t step forward and steady her. It almost killed him not to.
‘I have a perfectly perfect big telly back in Namborra,’ she continued, happily. ‘This baby is from the rental place that supplies the hospital. They were a bit stunned when I told them the size I needed but happy to oblige in the end. The console’s new, though, bought for me this afternoon by Pete. Harriet’s boyfriend?’ Her smile slipped a bit then.
‘Luc, do you know what the deal is there? I’m starting to have serious reservations about that relationship and I so don’t want Harry to get hurt. Harriet was aching for his visit—I could see her face light up with hope every time the door opened. Then when he did arrive... I went to leave but before I could, she asked him if he’d organise me the console. And Pete was out of there so fast... It was like he was aching for an excuse to get out, even though he’d just arrived. Then he insisted on playing here with me when I knew she wanted him. So here he was, looking after the little woman, only it was me and not Harriet who was the little woman. It was nice of him to do it but really...what does she see in him?’
Pete...
There was so much going on here it was making his head spin.
Pete was a firefighter, one of Kev’s crew. He and Harriet had been an item for a year now but Luc, too, had reservations. The guy seemed all testosterone-driven ego.
And that he’d been here with Beth... The tension he’d been feeling in the elevator escalated.
‘So...is he a toe-rag or am I just imagining it?’ Beth was apparently not noticing his...anger?
‘As far as I know he hasn’t played away.’ He tried to haul his mind away from Beth’s flushed face and tousled hair, from the cuteness of her jogging suit, from...well, just from Beth. Focus on Harriet, he told himself, and tried. Harriet and Pete. ‘My concerns are only instinct.’ He sighed. ‘With her injuries, I hope I’m wrong. She needs him.’
‘Need’s not a basis for a relationship,’ she snapped, and he flinched. There it was, the underlying reason why he couldn’t have this woman. Because she refused to concede...need?
Because he couldn’t come to terms with what she really needed. Which was independence.
‘Want to play?’ she asked, moving on fast, as if she guessed the tensions simmering underneath.
‘Play?’
‘Mystic Killers,’ she said with all the patience in the world. ‘I was getting hammered when you arrived. Yeah, I blew up Slime Vader, but there’s bigger, scarier dragons in the background. I could use someone at my back. Hey, there’s a role that might suit. I need you, Luc Braxton, to kill my dragons. You ever tinkered with online gaming?’
‘No,’ he said faintly.
‘Well, seeing your entire apartment has been taken over, maybe it’s time for you to learn. You need a handle. How about...?’ She paused and considered. ‘Protect-Or-Die.’
‘Die...’
‘Nobility is your middle name. You don’t have a suit of armour in your apartment by any chance? Sword? Chain mail?’
‘Um...no.’
‘Then we’ll just have to use our imagination. Want to share my rug instead? Come on. I need you.’ And she tossed back a corner of the fluffy rug someone from Namborra had sent her as a get-well gift and invited him in.
She needed him.
She didn’t.
He stood and gazed at her and she beamed back. There wasn’t a single sexy nuance in the way she was holding the rug. She was all bounce and excitement. Let’s go slay some dragons together...
She’d moved on, he thought. That week of clinging, of need, was over. She’d figured it out. From now he was only a friend. But she was offering friendship. On her terms. Her telly. Her hired console. Her rug.
Take it or leave it, her smile was saying, and what choice did he have?
‘Give me a minute to find myself a beer and haul my boots off,’ he told her. ‘How many dragons do we need to kill?’
* * *
There was something about blowing fire-breathing dragons into a thousand unidentifiable body parts that settled things inside her—especially when she was blowing things up with Luc snuggled beside her.
He got the gist of the game in minutes, but he played differently from Harriet, or from Pete who’d played for a while supposedly to make sure the set worked. Pete blasted his way in front and ended up pretty much dead for his pains, over and over. She and Harriet played as a team, stalking Mystic World with steady purpose and a certain amount of caution.
Luc played tactical right from the beginning. He slipped in behind her, covering her back. For a start she thought he was content to stay back until he’d learned the fundamentals of the game, but as the night wore on he still stayed back.
And she grew bolder because of it. She found she was moving faster, surer, knowing as each threat emerged she had a solid, safe presence backing her up. When she missed her aim, Luc was there, blasting her way out of trouble. Steady. Intent. Watchful.
But also having a heap of fun. When she hesitated, knowing just over the rise there’d be dragons of truly epic proportions, he was egging her on.
‘Go, girl. You can handle hot. Besides, I just won us enough points for you to rise from the dead twice. I wish we had this set up in ER. How about that for a medical scenario? They bring in a crash victim, I go kill a couple of dragons, get my Rise-From-The-Dead points and all’s well with the world. And yet they never taught this at med school. Okay, Mouse-Who-Roared. Go!’
And she did, storming the mighty Mystic Gate, sword flashing, fire on all sides, magic and mayhem scattering before her. Luc followed behind, neutralised threats, egged her on, giving her courage. Cheered as she blew things up that needed blowing up. Handed over his points to save her when she was devoured. Joined her in inescapable laughter as they stormed the tower and took on five dragons and their world blew up and they were blasted from the top of the tower, with only Luc’s points to save them.
Then Beth headed over a rise and spotted a dragon’s nest, complete with adorable-looking, doe-eyed baby dragons. The babies were pecking their way out of their shells and staggering into their new world. Cute as...
She turned her Mystic Blaster to the nest and shot them all into the middle of next week. Leaving Luc...hornswoggled.
‘You shot babies,’ Luc said blankly.
‘Kill or be killed.’ She grinned. ‘That’s twenty less threats we need to face before we gain the Mystic Throne. Besides, grown up they’ll threaten our world and I’m all for protecting our world. We’re a team, Luc Braxton. Get a grip.’
And then another giant loomed behind them and ethical questions faded. Apparently, you had to pay—a lot—for decimating dragon nests.
Uh-oh. There weren’t enough points left in anyone’s bank to save them from what happened next.
‘We need better tactics,’ Luc said, as their online bodies lay c
rumpled on the dusty plains, with the Mystic Kingdom a mere speck on the horizon. ‘I think your sword arm needs a broader sweep. And maybe babies are a no go.’
‘The babies need thought,’ she conceded. ‘Maybe we need to let ’em leave the nest and grow fangs before we pick ’em off. Next time you win points, how about using them for that, rather than all this noble point-saving so you can heal me.’
‘I don’t like to see you dead.’
‘Hey, we survive dead to fight another day. Look at us.’
‘Yeah, zero points and back where we started.’ He sighed and then cheered up. ‘Want to try again?’
‘Sorry. Time for a bacon sandwich and bed. Toby’ll be up at dawn and he won’t take dragons as an excuse.’ She tossed back her rug and pushed herself clumsily to her feet. ‘But a rematch is certainly in order. Tomorrow night? I reckon in two weeks we could be quite a team.’
‘Two weeks.’
‘That’s when I go.’ She shrugged and smiled. ‘Back to Namborra for a start, and then back to Brisbane. I’ve decided. You know Mum and Dad still own an apartment there? It’s empty at the moment so Toby and I will stay there until we figure what to do.’
So she had things arranged.
Two weeks. Right.
The emptiness, the desolation, was suddenly so great it threatened to overwhelm him.
He watched as she struggled over to the kitchenette, as she set about making toasted sandwiches.
He should do it for her, or at least offer to help, but he knew by now that she’d shrug him away.
I can do it.
She could, he thought. She didn’t need him.
The thought was breaking him in two.
We’re a team, Luc Braxton.
Not so much.
He thought of the last couple of hours, of Beth assessing the dragon nest and blasting it into oblivion. The Beth he’d known—or thought he’d known—would have flinched. Killing cute baby dragons? That wasn’t for the soft-hearted.
What had she said?
I’m all for protecting our world.
Finding His Wife, Finding a Son Page 12