Necessary Evil of Nathan Miller

by Demelza Carlton

  "Did they hurt you?" asked the pathetic Chris’s voice again.

  That’s an understatement, I thought, as I nodded in the dark.

  Keep fighting. Don’t let them win.

  And he was gone.

  Part 57

  Nathan went past the door. Another man paused to point a gun into the laundry, before he kept going. Silently, he followed Nathan.

  I slid down from the dryer to the floor, as quietly as I could. I clicked the safety off my gun, knowing what I had to do. Nathan had already reached the toilet, with the mystery man still a few steps behind him.

  I grabbed the guy’s shoulder, sticking the gun into his neck. I hissed at him to drop his weapon. He leaned down to place it on the hall rug and I kicked it, sending it spinning across the laundry floor. He even stuck his hands in the air. I couldn’t see over his shoulder or his raised hands – I was too short. "Tell him he’s been followed," I hissed.

  "You missed one," the man squeaked out. He jerked his head a little behind him.

  I couldn’t see Nathan. Is he angry at me for killing her?

  "You killed her," Nathan accused. Oh shit.

  I couldn’t deny it. "Yes." It came out as a whisper – my voice had failed. The man I held at gunpoint nodded for Nathan’s benefit.

  I’d killed her. I’d been so scared of them taking me back that I’d killed to stop her. What else had he expected me to do?

  So lost in thought – when I should have been thinking about the present. Nathan hit the other man like a truck, barrelling us both into the wall, with me cushioning the big man’s fall. Desperately, I tried to shoot him so he wouldn’t touch me again. Get off me!

  The gun jammed. The stupid bitch probably hadn’t even loaded the bullets into the clip properly. I wanted to kill her all over again.

  The big one kept me pinned to the wall as Nathan did his utmost to get me free of him. Large hands grabbed my frail fingers, trying to pry the gun out of them. Out of spite, I threw it down on the floor, hoping to dislodge the clip so I could reload it properly. Then I could shoot him.

  Nathan somehow got the big bloke's attention and his weight on me lessened enough for me to slide away from him to the floor. I dived for my weapon but it skittered out of my reach. I didn’t have even a moment to breathe before a crushing weight knocked the breath out of me. The big bastard covered my body with his and I didn’t even have the air to scream. I’ll kill you...I’ll fucking kill you...Nathan, get him off me...

  The touch of cold restraints around my wrists froze me entirely. The scars had barely healed from the last set...I’ll die first! And I’ll fucking take you with me...

  I tried desperately to throw him off, to escape from his grasp, but I heard metal snap closed and almost cried. Nathan...please help me...

  Nothing, not a sound from Nathan. In my ear, the big bastard’s quiet words sounded perfectly calm. He told me there was nothing I could do, that he was taking me with him and he was going to knock me out.

  I had only one reply. The same as the first time. "FUCK YOU!"

  His grip on me loosened and I used the little freedom I had to look for Nathan. Nathan. Please help me. Nathan...

  I saw his face, but he stood back, panicking as if he was scared to step forward and help me. Why did he hesitate? What did I miss? What did the big bastard threaten me with that had Nathan so scared to help me?

  If I’d thought his eyes were desperate before, they were nothing to what his expression held now. Insanity, desperation, anguish, despair, horror, grief: I could take my pick, they were all there. Yet he still stumbled toward me.

  I felt the cold prick at my neck. Oh, fuck. What’s he injecting me with? As if Nathan’s single step was his cue, I felt the liquid forced beneath my skin. No...

  I closed my eyes.

  Part 58

  Darkness swirled, but Nathan’s voice pierced it as if sound were light.

  "You’re not taking her anywhere."

  I tried to move, but everything felt too heavy. It was like being unconscious in hospital again. Why give me pain drugs when last time they used chloroform? And why such a tiny dose, when normally it knocked me out for hours?

  I felt arms lift me, desperately wishing I could fight to free myself. I must have made some movement, because I heard Nathan’s voice apologise for hurting me. So close a whisper...the arms holding me are his. In relief, I relaxed.

  "Navid!" The way he said it, the strange word sounded like he was calling a name.

  The deep voice responding confirmed it. "She killed the girl we were trying to protect..."

  He’s a guard. One of Nathan’s colleagues. And he thought I was her! Relief cycled to triumph as I realised switching clothes with her had worked – only I’d fooled the wrong person. I wanted to laugh, but my body didn’t respond.

  "Caitlin killed the bitch..." Nathan said the words so calmly, as if he knew I’d do it all along. I hadn’t known if I’d manage to survive, let alone kill someone. Even if she did deserve it.

  I killed the bitch. The relief and joy of it knew no bounds. She’ll never hurt me again.

  "That was Laura." I heard the venom in Nathan's tone. The bitch's name was Laura and Nathan didn't like her at all. But she'll always be the bitch to me.

  "It’s over. Nick, Pete, Tom...they’re all dead. Make this all go away before she wakes up..." Blissfully, I listened as I floated in the dark. In Nathan’s arms. And in safety.

  I drifted as both voices murmured. I heard the unfamiliar deep voice realise Nathan was right. "It’s over."

  Nathan’s reply washed over me, until he raised his voice a little to stress the words. "Please. I can’t stand to lose her again..."

  I wanted to smile. What more evidence did I need to know that Nathan cared deeply for me? He’d killed for me. He’d admitted it to one of the blokes he worked with.

  I felt the gentle bump of Nathan’s footsteps as he carried me away.

  Part 59

  Brick – Fingers – Broken – Nose – Pete

  What's in those pills? They leave me so drowsy I can't stay awake.

  Groggily, I tried to work out what had woken me.

  "I like the colour. Like you're gift-wrapped, just for me." I heard the sound of sawing and felt the rope constrict around my legs. The sawing stopped and his voice sounded closer. "Pity your tits aren't bigger, though."

  I pulled my knees up, my muscles screaming as the rope constricted, and kicked out with both feet together. I heard a satisfying grunt and a thump.

  "Fuck! You broke my nose, you bitch." The blade bit into my calf instead of the rope and I screamed. "That's better."

  "Try that again and I'll break the rest of your face, too," I panted, praying he wouldn't cut me again.

  "The other blokes said you like it rough. Fine by me, but I'm not into pain. Mine, that is. So we'll do things differently."

  He grabbed my feet and dragged me off the mattress, onto the cold concrete. He shoved a foot under my back and kicked me over, mashing my face into the concrete. I tried to kick him, but it was harder lying on my tummy.

  "Better," he said. He seized my hair and pulled my head back. "Scream for me again."

  My scalp screamed in pain, yet I swallowed mine. "Go fuck yourself."

  By my hip I could feel the rough edge of a brick. I tried to move my hands to the side so I could grab it. Maybe if I rub the rope around my wrists against it, I can free myself…

  "You want the brick?"

  Fuck. He saw what I saw doing. I felt the brick move as he lifted it out of my reach.

  "Okay." He smashed it down on my hand, shattering my fingers.

  I screamed until I ran out of breath.

  "Well that's foreplay out the way. Time for the best part."

  I heard the scream of his zip and the crackle of plastic.

  With my legs still tied together and me lying face-down on the concrete, I wondered what the hell he intended to do. I hoped he'd decide to wank instead of running the ri
sk of getting closer to me again. My fingers hurt too much to cross them.

  "It's better this way." He shoved me down as he stretched himself out on top of me. He gave my backside a stinging slap. "Such a sweet little arse. I bet it's tight, too. Oh, fuck yeah. You like it rough, right?"

  I screamed again.

  Part 60

  Cool air chilled my bare legs. Where are my pants?

  A hand touched my chest between my breasts. I curled up to protect myself, bringing my knees up so I could kick the bastard so hard he sang soprano. Nathan, if you sold me out to them I will hunt you down and kill you in the most painful way I can devise.

  I relaxed a little when I heard Nathan’s voice. I listened to the litany of reassurance that didn’t tell me why he’d taken my pants.

  "You’re covered in blood, angel." Laura’s blood, I wanted to say. As soon as I can move properly again, I’ll wash it off with disinfectant and then maybe I’ll feel clean again for the first time since she touched me.

  "Just me, angel. I’m not going to hurt you."

  So he didn’t sell me out. I breathed again.

  His hands touched my chest again and I heard the purr of the vest zip. I was too tired to resist as his hands examined me carefully, like a doctor would. His voice shook and squeaked a little, but the words kept coming. He intended to take my clothes off to wash the blood from my body. I wanted to nod my acquiescence, but my head felt too heavy.

  Cold air touched my chest as he peeled the shirt from my skin, the blood making it stick to me. After Nathan’s horror earlier, I didn’t want to see his expression now. He'll never see my body as anything but damaged – he can only see the scars and what they once were. I could control my eyelids again, but I felt no desire to lift them. Not even when the hiss of warm spray hit my skin, from my shins to my face.

  Maybe the medication had made me more pliant, too, I mused, letting my body flop like a doll as Nathan enveloped me in towels. Lifting, carrying and laying me down – encased in flannel, as I felt a towel smoothed over my body like a hospital sheet.

  The shower spray hissed again. Nathan’s turn?

  I tested my body, trying to work out if I could control it yet or not. I moved my toes under the towel, trying not to wince as I flexed my aching thighs. Do not climb on dryers. I arched my back a little, shrugging my shoulders simply because I could. I played air with my fingers. Necessary evil, the evil and the good... I felt the smile lift my lips. After all, wasn’t killing people supposed to be evil? Yet I felt so good now she was gone, as if the world was a better place. Necessary evil, indeed.

  Distantly, I heard the shower stop and Nathan’s footsteps approached me. The slap of wet feet on tiles ceased as water splattered beside me, some of it soaking through my towel. Nathan swore and stepped away.

  Curious, I carefully opened my eyes. I watched Nathan struggle out of his soaked clothes until I could see the pale skin of his bare backside. Not a bad backside, either. He wrapped my pink towel around his waist, his arm muscles bulging a little with the death grip he held the towel together with. Is he afraid his bits will fall off if the towel does?

  He turned around and my smothered laugh died in my throat. The fearful, worried look at me said more than words. No. He didn’t want the sight of so much skin to scare me.

  It’s not the sight. It’s the feeling of it in close proximity to mine, I wanted to explain. But to do that, I’d have to tell him everything and why. Burden him with graphic descriptions of rape. I closed my eyes. No, Nathan, I can’t do that to you.

  The shock of his skin on mine almost broke my resolve. I sucked in a breath to scream.

  His soothing voice cut me short. That and the slide of satin over my skin, as he clothed me once more.

  Soothed, dressed and dry, I sank into Nathan’s arms, secure and safe. Because the bitch is dead.

  Nathan set me down on a soft mattress. Mine.

  Cool cotton covered me, slowly starting to warm me. Quilt.

  I heard a voice say they were all dead. I started to relax, relieved, before I realised the voice wasn’t Nathan’s. The voice called me beautiful, then said something about stealing souls. Cold fingers touched my face.

  No. NO. Nathan? Nathan, you promised...

  His arms were around me and the quilt, cocooning me tightly. "I’m here," I heard his voice murmur. "I’m here." A pause. "No one’s going to hurt you, ever again. They’re all dead."

  It’s over. Oh thank God, it’s over.

  I could feel my mind floating. Nathan’s voice said something else, but I couldn’t focus on it. I drifted off to sleep. Safe.

  Part 61

  It was dark when I woke up. Nathan was beside me – I’d just woken him up.

  In my dream it had happened again. She’d come and tried to take me back; I’d shot her and her blood had splashed...

  I tried to take stock of what was real, here, now.

  I was wearing little more than my underwear – shortie satin pjs. Nothing else. Not someone else’s clothes.

  My hands were clean. There was no blood on them.

  It couldn’t have been just a dream.

  But Nathan didn’t have a gun – I didn’t have a gun.

  I couldn’t have murdered anyone.

  Oh but I did. I killed the bitch who hurt me, whose husband...

  "Hey, are you all right?" Nathan’s sleepy voice in my ear. "You were lying there on the toilet floor when I got there. You passed out. You’ve been out of it for hours."

  That can’t be right. I remember... Memory mixed with dream. Did I shoot her or was it an accident? It’s not murder when it’s self defence. No accident...

  "I dreamed that...they were trying to take me back, and I killed someone, and you had a gun, and they all had guns..." I tried to make it sound like any of it made sense, but failed.

  "Just a bad dream. It’s all over now." His lips on mine.

  I gasped in surprise.

  I felt him freeze. He hasn’t planned this. His breathing was ragged, but I kept mine as even as I could, holding still.

  It’s your move, Nathan.

  Very carefully, he slid his fingers along my pillow, between my cheek and the cotton cover. He kissed my lips as if he was kissing his sister’s cheek, a kiss so chaste it was hard to believe I was sharing a bed with a man who’d seen me naked. Then he pulled away from me slightly, his breathing fast and nervous.

  Why so slow and hesitant? What happened to Mr Sleazy Roommate in the toilet tonight? Unless he hadn’t planned that, either...

  A faint idea coalesced in my head and I did what my body had wanted to do in the toilet earlier this evening, before I pushed him away so I didn’t. I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him properly.

  He was too shocked to kiss me back for a second or two – he even forgot to breathe.

  When he did respond, his every movement was careful and tender, as if he were savouring each moment.

  I can do this. I can let him touch me. I can respond. I even want to. After the pain, confusion and killing tonight, I want this. I want whatever pleasure this man can give me. If only to feel wanted again.

  He had no shirt on. My hands smoothed his skin. He kissed me as urgently as I kissed him.

  "Let me help take your mind off it."

  He was so gentle.

  Was he this gentle with her? Ugh, could he really have slept with her? I don’t care how gentle you are now, you bastard. You touched me without my permission and then nearly got me killed. The hell you’re touching me now – and definitely not if you slept with her. How could you fuck that bitch? Knowing what she did?

  "NO!" I hissed through gritted teeth and shoved him away.

  Part 62

  Four – Mike – Tom – Simon – Pete – Her

  I lost track of the days, the difference between day and night and any sense of time. Some minutes stretched for hours when I just wanted it to be over, but it felt like I'd only just gone to sleep when someone else would hurt me and wak
e me up to start all over again.

  I was always tired. Maybe the pain or the horror of it made me so sleepy. Sometimes I was even too tired to fight, too tired to spit the insults at them that I was thinking. Maybe they hurt me less because they didn't get much of a reaction to whatever they did to me. Maybe they hurt me more to get a reaction.

  There were four of them who hurt me, all different.

  One of them was there more often, a big bully who'd crush me under his weight. He was rough and strong and he probably left bruises wherever he touched me. He'd hit me or hurt me some other way with his big, meaty hands, until I'd at least whimper, before he'd start grunting his way to a climax. He was the one the others called Mike. The bastard who'd drugged me in the car.

  Another one liked to break my fingers, or twist the ones he'd already broken. He liked to pinch and slap, too. He was a small, skinny bloke with a nasal, whiny voice. Torture with him couldn't have lasted more than five minutes. I heard Mike say to him once, "C'mon Pete, your five minutes are almost done!" and, thankfully, Pete had been done, too.

  One of them always brought one of the others along to "hold me still." He took forever and his hands were everywhere. It was like being groped by two squids. He'd make comments to himself or the guy holding me for him. I know I fell asleep more than once and I doubt he noticed. If Mike was holding me, he'd hit me 'til I woke up and he'd laugh that he and the other guys had exhausted me before it was Simon's turn. The cold fish was called Simon.

  Simon's preferred accomplice he called Tom. Tom didn't say much, he just did what he came for and left. I asked him once why he bothered with me at all. He told me to shut up or he'd break my jaw. Don't remember if he came back after that.

  Then there was Her. The woman who wanted me to speak to her friend. The woman who drove the red Mercedes. She hit me and pushed me in and she knew what they'd do to me. I'll kill her if I can.