“Doesn’t help us much right now, does it?” She always knew how to cut to the heart of it. They remembered. She didn’t. Profound moments which changed their lives and hers, and she couldn’t recall them.
“One step a time,” he said. “Andreas told you a plane crashed into the waves…it was my plane. I was a bit of a rake and scoundrel.” Andreas snorted and even Oz laughed. “Fine, I was a pirate. Shut up.” He spared his brothers a look, then focused on the woman holding his hand. The woman he had to win back no matter the cost. “I’d stolen the plane to escape some rather unsavory types…
“Unfortunately, I hadn’t the fuel to make it all the way from mainland Australia to Auckland. The plan had been to land, blend in, then find other transport. You know what they say about plans…well, maybe you don’t. I’ll get to that part. Organization had never been one of my strong suits. I’d always preferred to follow my impulses and my gut.
Taking the plane had gotten me out of one troubling situation, then it landed me in the sea. Close enough to make out the land, I managed to swim for shore. I lost a few items along the way—jacket, shoes, and most of the gear in the plane itself. That said, I had my body parts intact and my life. If the authorities had managed to grab me in Sydney, it would have been all over.
That said, I stumbled onto the sand and ran into a bloke—Dirk—who looked less than thrilled at my arrival. Pretty sure Andreas had already gone for help. Next time I woke up, I was in clinic with Oz over there giving me the once over. I was also handcuffed. You can blame that one on Dirk, too. Always cautious that one.
I had a concussion, two broken ribs, and apparently swallowed a bit too much water. Oz fixed me right up, then they told me I had to wait to speak to the boss. I hadn’t gotten a good look at the place before the plane went down, so I had no idea who the boss would be.
Take a moment to process the surprise I experienced when instead of some gruff military bloke or stodgy old scientist, the woman who entered wore an emerald green dress and jewels. She looked rather ready for a party, not a shift in the clinic.
So, I bucked up my best smile, and asked if she was there to be my nurse. Your man Dirk took some exception, but you laughed. I couldn’t tell you what I found more provocative, the laughter or the outfit. “I’m here to check on your status, Mr…?” then you waited and gave me a rather pointed look.
It was then I realized I could play it out a couple of different ways. I could have told you a lie, made up some fantastic farce. If you hadn’t already noticed, talking my way out of situations and making the best of them was a skill cultivated on the streets on London and later Hong Kong. I had no way to be certain whether any of my information had been retrieved from the plane.
‘Course, I had a lot of aliases back then, so it wouldn’t have been out of bounds for the identity you had found wasn’t mine but a cover. The whole argument played out in my head as you gazed at me. Then I looked into those beautiful eyes of yours, and I didn’t want to lie. A first for me, really, and a sensation I found particularly unsettling. You see, the truth can get you killed.
“Benedict,” I said to you then. “Hatch Benedict. Truth be told, not sure about the Benedict part. My father wasn’t in the picture and my mum kicked it a couple of years after I was born—complications during the pandemic.”
You nodded, then said, “Do you prefer Hatch or Benedict?”
“Doesn’t matter much to me,” I assured you. “Just let me know what you’d like to call me, and I’ll make do.”
“You are an odd individual, Mr. Benedict.”
The way you phrased it didn’t make it sound like a compliment, so I tried to sit up, except the handcuffs got in the way. Rather than struggle against them, I stared into your eyes and played the one good card I held in the deck. “It’s Captain Benedict.”
“Obviously.” Then you laughed at me, and I had to grin. That first meeting had to be the most awkward and unsettling one of my life. You rose, and said, “Rest. Let Oz treat you, and I’ll see how you are feeling in a day or two. If you don’t wish to stay, let Dirk know your destination, and he’ll make arrangements.”
News to Dirk, but he shrugged it off. If you hadn’t already noticed, the man will do anything for you. Even put up with the rest of us. You swept out of the room, taking all the air with you. Dirk followed, and that left me with Oz. The doc shook his head, and said, “I’m going to draw some blood. We’re doing a few studies here and your donation will cover any expense of your treatment.”
Normally, I would have objected to being a pincushion, but I couldn’t puzzle my way through what I’d done wrong. It was more than a couple of days before I saw you again, more like a week. During that time, I had to put up with Dirk, Andreas or Oz for company. They were all slowly being won over to my cause.
At least enough for me to lose the handcuffs. The longer I remained, the less I wanted to leave. Another awkward experience, but I proved useful. Oz mentioned you’d run low on plasma supplies for testing. I had contacts everywhere, so I reached out to one and found a good deal. It meant a run to Wellington, but I talked my way into renting a heli and off I went.
The next time it was fresh veggies. Another time it turned out to be decanters and vials, syringes…whatever you needed, I found it. Dirk took to sending one of his men with me as backup. Andreas came along once, and Oz, too. Not Dirk, though, and can’t say as I ever minded. His place was protecting you, and we were all in agreement.
The second week, I’d made myself quite comfortable when you appeared on the balcony of my suite. I about choked on my beer, but I had a present for you. Oz let slip that you fancied red wines—including a particularly hard to find one. The California vineyard it had been grown in burned during one of the riots following the pandemic and the bottles were liquid gold.
“You seem to have a supplier for every need, Mr. Benedict.” The prim and proper way you addressed me while you examined the bottle was hot. I always had a thing for teachers, sexy librarians…smoking hot scientists. You pretty much fit every bill.
“I get around,” I told you, and instead of being pleased, you studied me. It was disconcerting the way you seemed to look right through me. So, I laid it on a bit thick. “You tell me anything you want, something really challenging, and I’ll find it for you.”
“In exchange for what?” Not an unfair question, I supposed, but I did find it a tad insulting.
“Didn’t offer to make you a deal, gorgeous, offered to find you something you desire. So, tell me, what do you desire most?” I thought if I said it with enough sobriety and stared into your eyes, you would go for it. Instead, you set the wine bottle aside and turned to the doors as if you planned to leave. “Wait,” I touched your arm, then reconsidered it. I couldn’t see Dirk, but I damn well knew they wouldn’t let you alone with me. Not yet. The gents liked me, but it was your approval I craved.
You didn’t slap me, which I took to be a good sign. “Yes, Mr. Benedict?”
“Do you want me to go?” It was the moment I realized I wanted to be there, but not at the expense of you pushing me away.
“I want to know why you want to be here.”
The only thing that would work would be an uncomfortable, if honest, response. I retrieved my beer and held it between us. “I can go pretty much anywhere in the world. It’s what I do. Find a place, fit in, make a few bucks, and move on. Been doing it for years. Never had a reason to dig in and set roots. Better to be free. Lots of folks in the world cut themselves off after the pandemic, but me? I’d never had a place to cut myself off from. I’ve been loads of places, made lots of friends and my share of enemies. Been where folks are healthy and others are just flat out ill.” I could see it in your eyes the moment you realized what I was about to tell you. “I’m immune to whatever’s out there. Maybe because my mum was ill during her pregnancy, maybe I won some proper prize for having shit all for family growing up.”
“You’re immune…are you certain?” Yep, I had excited
that scientific side of you. Not the one I wanted interested in me, but I’d take what I could get.
Then it hit me, and I realized you laid a trap for me. “But your bloke Oz drew my blood, so you knew that.”
“Perhaps, but one sample could be contaminated, and we didn’t have enough to expose it to all the issues we’ve run into.” I liked that you didn’t pull your punches. “I’m also not going to make you a lab rat, Mr. Benedict. You seem a bit unscrupulous, despite all the assistance you’ve been here.”
I won’t deny I puffed up a bit under that compliment. “Perhaps you’ll tell me why you don’t like me?”
You sighed and gestured to the window overlooking the beach. “We’ve a lot to do here, Mr. Benedict. I could use your help, and I can’t say I don’t enjoy your company, but you said it yourself. You move in, you make a few friends, then you move on.”
And it hit me. You didn’t want to get attached on the chance I might leave. I wasn’t going to make you a promise on the spot, but I did place a bit of a wager with myself. If I made it three months, I’d commit. What I told you was, “I’d like to be useful here, for as long as you could use me. So, put me to work, darling. Put me to work.”
You told me you’d think about it, then you left. The next night, I found you on the beach and I brought some music. You were worrying over something on a datapad. I turned the music on and pulled you into a dance. Just a few minutes, then you gasped and said you had to go and off you went.
Since you never mentioned what you liked or wanted, I got the guys to tell me. I used every resource I had to find those items. On the night I’d been there three months, I asked to see you. I brought the wine with me, and I opened it there in your rooms. I told you that I’d won the wager with myself, I’d been there three months and I wanted to stay.
More, I wanted you. I’d gotten the lay of the land. I knew you and the other three were together, and I hoped you had room for four.
Hatch turned her hand over in his and traced his finger along the lifeline in her palm. “I’ve never regretted the decision, not once. We shared that whole bottle of wine and danced, even without the music. I’d follow you through fire, luv.”
Her rapid blinking brought him up short. In all their time together, he’d never seen her cry and yet a tear slipped down her cheek. “Why don’t I remember? You three told me beautiful stories of how we met and became lovers, and built this family together…but why can’t I remember it?”
It broke his heart, but on this they had all agreed as well. It was Dirk’s turn. Dirk who’d been there first and loved her longest. Unable to help himself, Hatch cupped her face in his hands and kissed each of the tears, then he checked the monitors. “Maybe you should rest…”
“Her blood pressure is elevated, but she’s upset.” Oz didn’t sound definitive. “I think she should eat a little something, if she can keep it down.”
“If Doc isn’t ordering you to rest, then it’s up to you.” Hatch understood one part of Valda’s personality. Once she’d made a decision to pursue something, she wouldn’t let it go.
Valda squeezed his hand then looked to Dirk. They were all looking at him. His sigh spoke volumes.
“C’mon, big man, your turn in the hot seat.” Hatch winked at Valda and her sudden grin paid him in full. He relinquished his seat and moved to the edge of the room.
None of them liked this part of the story, but Andreas and Oz were right—Dirk was the one to tell it.
Chapter 18
Find the place inside where there's joy, and the joy will burn out the pain. - Joseph Campbell
DIRK
Ferocious energy licked every person present in the room. Oz wore his concern on his sleeve. His whole being seemed to lean into Valda. Andreas, troublemaker that he was, couldn’t take his gaze off her. The man had to challenge everything from her plans to her choices to theirs. He literally didn’t seem to know when to shut up. Hatch? Fucking Hatch had a finger in every pie and read them all like an open book. If they needed it, he’d find it and provide for it.
Dirk couldn’t ask for better brothers, even when he wanted to throttle them all. They’d walked into this hell together and they’d damn well walk out—with the woman they loved.
“You have no interest in discussing any of this, do you?” The betrayal in her eyes stung him more than her words. From the get go, all he’d done was exactly what he’d done before. The plan called for each of them to fulfill the roles they’d had when she met them, to re-enact those moments when they’d begun to click, and the spark of their family had begun to build.
What fucking hubris. None of them were who they’d been then.
“A lack of interest has never been my problem.” If she chose to hate him when it was over, he’d accept her rancor. Not even repudiation would send him from her side. “When this…” He motioned to the men as he took the seat on the edge of her bed, he steeled himself against his own instincts. Sitting while they stood aggravated his sense of order. In this, he wasn’t the lead. No, he was a supplicant. “When this began, we made a pact, you and I—I and them. You and them. They’ve each told you how they entered your story, and why they decided to stay.”
She folded her arms and studied him. Becoming her lover—again—had been one of the best moments of his life. It also cost him, because she’d withdrawn her trust when she weighed their intimacy against their revelations.
“You don’t want to talk about it because, what? Your story is more straightforward? I was just a job to you?”
Responding to her recriminations would only serve to feed the vicious loop they lived within. No more. Cupping her cheek, he silenced her next words with a thumb stroked over her lips. Every part of her had been committed to his memory, every interaction, every touch—every taste. “You asked for the truth, so here it is…”
“With each arrival to the facility, I had the front row seat to how you bloomed. My devotion to you was absolute, but my duty—it took precedence even above my feelings for you. Feelings I was not allowed to have because you were my protectee, a fact you seemed to take delight in tormenting me over.
“Dirk, I can feel you watching me,” you said each morning over breakfast when I stood and didn’t join you at the meal table. In the evenings, you would change and step out onto your balcony—exposed to the world—and when I took point on that detail, you would watch me.
In some ways, the existence was both heaven and hell. I spent every waking moment at your side. The only place I could not follow you was into your work. I watched you, I learned your habits, and I learned how to anticipate your needs. The first time you kissed me…I wasn’t allowed to respond. My oath precluded it, yet you remained undeterred.
Watching you with Oz taught me something valuable. The isolation of your upbringing along with your name, reputation, and chosen profession left you alone far too much. You needed to be challenged, you craved something you couldn’t define.
In what may, perhaps, be considered a blundering attempt, I used my position at your side to encourage you. To encourage them, but only after I vetted them. Your security and safety are always my primary concern. In the days after Oz arrived, you lost your temper less and seemed to thrill to your work more.
“He’s treated so many different patients, and I know his soul is hurting, but did you see him when I broke down the DNA charts? His ideas—they’re real. They involve real people. I would never have looked at the patterns that way.” The enthusiasm in your voice, the excitement? It was all I could have asked for and more.
Then the priest came, and he was lucky I didn’t toss him out the first day. Then you began to shorten your work days, spent more time walking in the sun. The arguments—they invigorated you. After a particularly heated dispute which ended in him storming away, you danced toward me and laughed. There was a gleam in your eyes as you said, “That was fun. Do you think you could get a whole list of the places he’s been? He’s seen the wide-ranging effects of the pandemic, and
I keep meaning to ask him, then we argue and it’s…”
“Fun?” I supplied, and you nodded. You took my hand and insisted on recounting each moment of the debates, as you analyzed why you enjoyed it. Then you gave me this sidelong look. It was then I realized you wanted me to…be jealous is the wrong word. I never thought you sought to taunt me with them. You wanted me to respond. So, I did the only thing I could do. I said, “I’ll talk to him. I’ll involve the doctor as well. If we three are to give you what you need, we should have an accord.”
I admit, it was a gamble. What man offers to share the object of their affection with another? I could not give you what your mind needed so much. I was physical security, but I needed to protect all of you. They aren’t so bad most of the time.
Surprise filtered into your expression when I made the offer, and for the first time in a while, you paused to study me. Then asked, “Are you truly all right with their presence? I—I like them. But not at your expense. I’ve…I’ve never felt this way about any other man, not the way I feel about the three of you.”
“Valda,” I promised you then and now, “If you need them, they stay. We will make it work.”
It was the right thing to do, so that night after you vanished into your lab and locked the doors, I sought them out. We drank for hours—well, they drank for hours and shared with me crumbs of their history. No, I won’t recount those parts. What we discussed was for us. We three had to be a unit, and I know how to build units. The task fell to me.
Then Hatch came. Troublemaking Brit. Damn near mucked it all up. The pirate thought he could steal you away, but you—you flowered under the attention. The word was a poor description for it, yet your work seemed to advance by leaps and bounds. Each day, we five shared a meal. Jackass that he was, Hatch won us over, one by one.
Their Memoriam Page 22