Déjà vu. Half my face ignited and I flew part way across the room to land heavily on the floor, the result of another blow I hadn’t seen. A warm trickle on my cheek told me he'd cut me. With what? Rings?
I tasted blood and a sudden pain in my chest told me at least one of my ribs was broken. I struggled to get up, but the pain of each breath I took slowed me down. His body crushed mine against the concrete before I could get to my feet.
I reached behind me, nails out, in the hope of doing some damage. I raked them down what felt like his arm before he pinned both of my arms behind my back. He roped my wrists together and tied them tightly. There'd be no freeing myself this time. The Swiss Card had stayed in the pocket of my jeans, stolen by Chris and Mike, along with the rest of my clothes.
"I think you drew blood that time, little bitch," he said angrily.
"Fuck you," I replied. I tucked my fingers into fists, so only the middle ones stuck up. "Up yours, you prick."
He snorted.
I screamed as he methodically broke both upright fingers. His rings dug into my flesh.
In a haze of pain, I didn’t resist as he got up off me and turned me onto my back.
It was too dark for me to see his face, so I spat, "Who the fuck do you think you are?"
He took out a knife, holding it up so it caught the little light and glinted. It was bigger than the one I'd held, that Mike took from me. The only knife I'd seen bigger than this was my chef's knife at home. Or the necropsy labs at university. Maybe.
I smothered a sob. I had to keep fighting. Show no fear.
"You can call me Chris," he said, carelessly slicing the sides and shoulders of my borrowed t shirt so it fell away from me. The blade was sharp, nicking my skin in several places, but he didn’t seem to notice in the dark. Or maybe he did and he'd meant to hurt me.
Now I wore nothing but fear and a few spots of blood. Oh God, please…no.
He stood back and looked at me for a few seconds, unzipping his jeans. He took a step closer.
One more, you prick. One more step…and he took it.
I kicked out at him with both feet together, but he moved and grabbed my legs, forcing them back down to the floor, spread wide apart.
"If you think you’re going to…" I began angrily.
"Fuck you, little bitch." He grunted, lowering himself to the floor between my legs.
That was the fucking beginning. I won’t let him live to see the end.
Part 45
After a lot of persuasion, Nathan managed to talk me into going shopping with him. I'd intended to use Dad's credit card details to do my grocery shopping online and make them deliver it all for me, but he reminded me that I had no cash, no phone, no wallet and no idea what the newspapers had invented about me overnight. Some things don't get delivered.
He swore he'd help me with everything, so I reluctantly agreed. It felt strange going out in public, after so long in captivity, in the dark and in hospital. At least I didn't have to do it alone.
So I'd feel like a right invalid, he got me a wheelchair. Despite all my piano practise, my fingers still felt clumsy as I pushed the damn thing. I resolved to play for an extra hour when I got home. The new song – the one that wouldn't leave my head. I focussed so completely on the song that I almost crashed my wheelchair into someone's shopping trolley. She glared at me as I mumbled an apology, but her expression quickly changed to shock and she hurried away.
She wasn't the only one to wear that expression. I felt like everyone was staring at me – had they all seen my photo in the paper?
Every shop we went to, it seemed they had. Everyone looked at me for a second longer than they normally would, giving me pained, sympathetic smiles as they nodded to me as if they knew me.
"Do you need anything?" I asked Nathan, wondering. He didn't seem to be the type of bloke who'd volunteer to go shopping for no reason.
"Something to sleep in," he said quickly. He made a big show of buying himself boxer shorts and t-shirts in Myer, asking my opinion of an expensive satin pair and some cheap cotton ones.
I looked at them both and wondered how he'd look in the deep blue satin, six-pack and all, but I tried to control my face. "Weren't you going to buy pyjamas?" I asked innocently.
To hide his panic, he picked the first pair he saw – a pink pair parked haphazardly on the rack marked 50% off already reduced items.
I couldn't help it. I laughed so loud I couldn't stop.
"Can I help you?" the shop assistant asked as she hurried over.
"He needs some new pyjamas. Probably not in pink," I said, pointing.
Nathan's cheeks flushed to match the pyjamas as he put them back.
"We don't have much left after Father's Day, but the best ones are over here…" she said, leading the way over to a rack that looked a bit more his style. "What do you normally wear? Long sleeve, short, buttons, long pants, shorts…"
I heard Nathan mumble something about how he normally just slept in his shorts or nothing at all. I'd seen him mostly in his shorts and a t-shirt in hospital, so I already knew he'd dressed up for me. I hadn't realised he'd dressed for me.
It was the shop assistant's turn to blush as she managed to say, "I'll just be over at the counter if you need any help. Just let me know, okay?" She beat a hasty retreat.
Nathan quickly picked something with long pants and long sleeves, before pushing me up to the counter with his proposed purchases.
I'd never seen a shop assistant process a payment so fast – and say so little while doing it, too.
"Time for food shopping?" Nathan asked, breaking into my thoughts.
I agreed, so we headed for Woolworths. As we wove through the crowded shopping centre, dodging trolleys and kamikaze pram-pushers, a thought struck me. He'd wrapped himself in the sheets when he'd shared my bed in hospital. Maybe the conservative sleepwear was part of his bid to be allowed to sleep with me.
I led the way to the frozen food section, where the pre-prepared food was kept. The less time spent cooking, the more time I'd have for exercises and recovery. The display of strawberry punnets broke my resolve, though – it had been so long since I'd had fresh ones. I stuck some in the trolley, on top of everything else, and kept my eyes on them as Nathan pushed our soon-to-be purchases toward the till.
"Anything else you need?" I murmured, looking at the newspaper rack by the register.
"Coffee," he replied.
"I have some already, look." I pointed at the big jar of instant coffee hidden beneath a frozen pizza.
"No – I don't drink that stuff. I'll get my own," he said vaguely, hurrying off to do so. I wondered what sort of coffee he'd come back with. If he was really so fussy, he must've wanted that expensive stuff that had to be brewed or needed specialist equipment to make.
To my complete shock, he returned with a jar of decaffeinated instant coffee. "What?" he asked, catching sight of my expression. He tossed the jar into the trolley.
"Nothing," I replied, wincing as the jar landed on one of my precious punnets. "Not on the strawberries!"
He apologised and moved it, but it was too late – the damage was done. He'd squashed part of one punnet. Annoyed, I led the way to the register. I wanted to go home.
He reached for the newspaper before I could, laying it carefully on the conveyor belt at the checkout. Actually, he'd grabbed two, but he seemed happy to pay for them, so I didn't argue.
As we waited for the girl at the checkout to finish scanning our purchases, I caught Nathan glancing from the newspapers to me, a bemused smile on his face.
It wasn't a bad photo of me – though it was a terrible one of him. You couldn't even see his face. I scanned the article, which didn't tell me anything I didn't know. Apparently, I'd been found near death, on a beach early one morning by a mystery man. A reward was offered for an exclusive interview with the man, I read, as I turned to page seven for the rest of the article, but Nathan hadn't seen it yet. I wondered if he'd take them up on it, or if t
here were some confidentiality conditions inherent in his job that said he couldn't give press interviews. More importantly, looking at the offered reward, I wondered what they'd offer for an interview with me. Perhaps I should check my email and Facebook messages.
Nathan's expression turned dreamy and I wondered what he was thinking about. From the way he looked at the paper, I suspected it was me. I smothered a smile and decided to cause a little trouble.
I had to call his name a couple of times to get his attention before I asked, "Will you stay with me tonight?"
"Sure," he replied promptly.
Thinking of the pyjamas, I waited until we were in the car park with no one in earshot before I said what I was thinking.
"I want you to sleep with me."
His eyes positively shone for a second, before he realised I couldn't be serious about sex with him. But for that second, he'd hoped…
Feeling perhaps a tiny bit penitent, I explained that I wanted him to stay with me like he had in hospital – or like this morning.
Instantly, he agreed.
As he lifted me into the car, I felt for a moment that he lingered to savour the feel of me in his arms.
The thought that coalesced in my mind was that if I did choose to get naked with Nathan, he'd never hurt me. For he knew I'd kill him if he did.
Maybe one day…but not yet.
"Should we pick up a pizza on the way home?"
It took me a moment to understand what he'd said, but once I had, I agreed.
He handed me his phone, as my brand-new one was still in the box, and told me to order whatever I wanted for both of us.
I had to search for the number, but I found it and ordered for us. While Nathan focussed on driving, I flipped idly through his phone. He had a text message he hadn't read. I accidentally hit the touch screen in the wrong place and it sent me to his list of messages. The unread one was about his latest phone bill being ready to pay. I moved my fingers to send the phone back to its home screen when the first line of another message caught my eye.
"Maintain cover. Build trust." The number had no name associated with it.
I glanced at Nathan, but he was busy swearing at some Landcruiser that'd just cut him off.
I opened the message so I could read the rest – there was a whole conversation preceding it. I scrolled down to the first message in the chain.
It'd been sent from Nathan's phone – presumably, by him. It dated back to 3rd July, the day before I was kidnapped. "Made contact. Will attempt to obtain information."
The reply. "Stay with contact. Establish trust. Cooperate. Use any means necessary. And condoms."
Nathan's next message was dated 4th July. The complete lack of punctuation emphasised the urgency of the text. "Drugged saw kidnapping trapped in car girl taken must break cover need backup now."
The last and most recent message was the one I'd seen initially. I read the message in full, dread sinking in my stomach. "Maintain cover. Build trust. Do anything they ask until further notice. Will contact."
I poked blindly at the touch screen, trying to exit out of Nathan's messages as if I'd never read them. When I saw the home screen again, my nerveless hands dropped the phone in my lap.
Someone had ordered him not to help me – to let me be taken. I needed to get into ASIO and find out who. There was no way in hell that was legal or procedure.
I closed my eyes and added one more bastard to my list. A nameless bastard, for the moment, but not for long, I vowed.
Part 46
In the morning, Nathan headed off home, promising to return that night and take me out to dinner.
I'd fallen asleep far too early last night, so I had an extra hour of piano practise to put in before starting any other exercises. I'd finally managed to limber up my fingers enough to work a bass line beneath the melody that wouldn't leave me alone. One more run through and I'd write it down…
A heavy knocking jarred with my timing. I stopped playing and stood, making my way to the front door.
As I approached, I heard a gruff voice say, "Sit. Caesar, sit."
I smiled and threw the door open, unlocking the screen door before I could even see him clearly. "Good morning, Bruce. What can I do for you?"
Bruce looked hard at me, as if he couldn't decide which weighty matter to bring up first. "It's good to see you home, Caitlin. Wendy and I didn't believe anyone could hate you enough to do something like this. The bastards should be castrated and hung. They should bring back the death penalty for people like them…"
I fought to keep the smile on my face as I nodded my agreement. The bastards should be castrated, then their corpses hung up like dead meat…
"So I've come to give you Caesar and Cleo," he announced proudly, waving at the two dogs sitting at the bottom of my front steps.
The two enormous Rottweilers wagged their stumpy tails. I'd taken these two to training a couple of times for Bruce, so I was on their short list of favourite people.
"But I don't have any dog food, Bruce. And you know Dad doesn't like dogs…" I began.
"While you're home alone, you can keep them in your yard – I'll come over and feed them every day. They'll help protect you." His fierce grin was hard to resist. "You won't have to worry about a thing. And if you have any intruders…Caesar and Cleo will take care of them for you. You know how much they love you."
Holding carefully to the rail, I proceeded down the steps to the two dogs. I held out my hand for each of them to sniff before I patted them both gently. The dogs did love me, but I wasn't sure I could control them if they attacked someone. They didn't know Nathan.
"Bruce," I said carefully. "It's such a lovely, kind offer, but one of my friends is coming to stay with me at night, to keep me company. Caesar and Cleo don't know him. What would I do if they attacked my friend?"
He scratched his head. "Ah. Should I just leave you the block-splitter, then?"
I noticed the heavy axe he held by his leg and smiled. "You know I can't lift that. You keep it. If I need help, I know where to come."
He seemed agitated, but he knew better than to push me. Bruce had known me since I was six. "All right," he said finally. "You know if you need any help, or anything at all – just ring me or come over. If you get anyone so much as look at you wrong, you run straight to my place and set the dogs on them. I'll leave the gate unlocked."
I thanked both him and his two dogs, then watched as all three crossed the road back to his house.
I breathed a sigh of relief as I locked the door behind me. Even without Nathan, there was always someone watching out for me. Even my neighbour's scary guard dogs.
Part 47
Tied – Dark – Chris – Water – Pills
I awakened and it was still dark. I tried to rub my eyes, to see if they were really open, but my hands just didn't move. I ached deep inside from what the bastard had done to me.
I tried to stand up, but my feet were forced too close together, my thigh muscles unable to move. I twisted around, trying to see where I was, but there was nothing visible in the darkness. Someone's breathing was the only sound.
"Awake?" It came in a barely audible whisper.
"Where's Chris?" I demanded. Which Chris, I should have said. The bastard who could barely touch me or the one who broke my fingers and…
Slightly louder this time. "Right here."
His hand lightly touched my shoulder.
My throat was dry as I whimpered, "I need water." No need to defy him.
"I know." The cool rim of a cup pressed to my lips. "I'll help you where I can. Here – something for the pain." Pills, then the cup back. I didn’t question it, I just took them. I realised I was a drug addict and I didn’t even know what the drug was.
My tears chilled my cheeks. I couldn't wipe them away. They flowed down my face, unchecked, a tribute to my own weakness. They fell faster – Chris witnessed this, me losing everything I'd ever had.
I began to sob uncontrollably. What did
it matter – Chris was no one! "Untie me and take me home!" I begged him. "I can't stay here – let me go!"
Almost totally unhinged, I strained at the ropes that held me, willing there to be a weakness to let me free. All that broke was my skin, blood oozing out of the burning cuts. Warm and strange, the added pain brought on a fresh flood of tears.
"You have to let me go, now," I told him urgently.
"No, not now. Be patient." He hesitated a moment before he continued, "You'll get out of here. If you keep believing it, they can’t win."
I felt so tired and drowsy, my eyes began to close again. "Bullshit," I mumbled.
"You’ll be fine," he soothed.
No I won’t, I thought as consciousness faded.
Part 48
Nathan was late. I'd put on lipstick then chewed it off as I waited. I'd replaced it with the all-day colour stuff that stained my lips. I'd played piano until even I'd gotten sick of the sound, so I stretched out on the floor and turned on the TV. Some reality show about people who could dance…or sing…or something. I let the music wash over me as I started another set of physiotherapy exercises. I could feel my legs getting stronger day by day.
I even felt sweaty from the exercise – it sure was a warm day for September. Almost October now – where had the year gone?
I heard the sound of a car in the driveway.
Nathan! Finally.
I jumped to my feet, clicking off the TV. I hurried to the door so I could see him. I'd taken particular care to look good tonight – he'd promised to take me out for dinner. Not really a date, but I'd dressed for it anyway. A pretty red satin shirt over dress pants. I felt giddy.
Maybe that's why I made such a stupid mistake.
I flung the door open and stood on the doorstep, wondering why his engine sounded so loud today. I was halfway down the steps when I realised the car wasn't his.
I saw a white convertible – a woman's car, definitely. It still had a crystal hanging from the rear vision mirror, catching the sunlight and throwing rainbows across the dash. Yet it wasn't a woman who climbed out. It was a big, bulky bloke, wearing a heavy coat and cap, so I couldn't see his face at all.
Necessary Evil of Nathan Miller Page 11