Echoes

by Angela Verdenius

  Quickly she stepped back, only to gasp as cramp shot through her leg. She stumbled, grabbing her calf. “Ow! Ow ow!”

  One second she was trying to maintain balance, the next she felt a hard arm go under her knees, another behind her back and she was swept up into Ryan’s arms. Several steps and he deposited her on the sofa, his hands going to her calf which she lurched up to grab.

  Impressive, considering she wasn’t exactly a featherweight. But the fleeting thought vanished as the cramp dug in savagely.

  At Ryan’s assessing glance, she gritted out, “Cramp.” Biting her lip, she flexed her toes to stretch the calf muscle.

  Dropping to one knee, he laid his hands around her calf, fingers massaging strongly, helping to ease the pain. Normally the stretching fixed it, but she had to admit the feel of those fingers massaging the muscle was damn good.

  As the cramp ebbed, she relaxed while breathing a sigh of relief.

  “All right?” Ryan continued to massage her calf.

  “Fine. It’s all good.” She could have happily laid there and let him continue, except this was Ryan and it was wrong. So very wrong. “I’m okay.” She sat up.

  Oh boy. Still kneeling, his hand had somehow shifted to rest just above her knee. The heat from his palm brought other images burning into her mind, those long, capable fingers sliding higher, under the hem of her skirt, under the lace of her panties to - don’t think about it.

  Flushing, she pushed his hand away and swung her legs down.

  “Your injured leg.”

  “I get a bit if cramp in it now and again.”

  “Do you still get physio?”

  “I know what to do for it.” Seeking to put as much space between them as possible, she stood.

  Standing, Ryan watched as she took a few steps.

  “Good as new.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  That surprised her. “What for?”

  “Keeping you on your knees like that.” There was a distinct brooding in his eyes. “The position wasn’t good for you.”

  For her own petty satisfaction she should have let him go on thinking that, but no matter how angry she was, how she felt, she couldn’t bring herself to make him feel guilty. “I get cramp on and off. This chilly weather makes me limp more than normal at times. I’m kind of like that old woman who knows when it’s going to rain because her bones ache.” She smiled humourlessly.

  He didn’t return it.

  The knock at the door had her turning with relief. “It’s the takeaway.”

  Ryan, however, was already moving. With a curt “Stay here”, he strode past her into the hallway. Rolling her eyes, she watched while he checked through the peephole before opening the door to reveal the delivery boy standing on the veranda holding a bag of food.

  The boy looked at Ryan with widening eyes. “Um…is Ella here?”

  Instead of answering, Ryan took money from a wallet he pulled from his back pocket and handed him some cash. “Keep the change.” Taking the bag, he shut the door.

  As he strode back down the small hallway, Ella held her hand out for the bag. “I’ll pay you back.”

  With a shake of his head, he gestured for her to precede him.

  Not really knowing what else to do, she obeyed, so very conscious of him behind her. So very conscious that she was wearing an old, soft, thin nightgown and dressing gown that skimmed her curves. Not something she’d do when having company.

  Male company.

  Ryan company.

  Probably didn’t bother him, after all, he’d seen her naked many times in the past so he knew what she looked like. A faint flush filled her cheeks as she went behind the bench and took two plates from behind the little curtain pulled across the open cupboards.

  Forget it. Just forget it. He’s not here lusting after your plump arse. He just wants information, so get your head out of the stars.

  Damn it. Sand. I meant sand, get your head out of the sand.

  Frowning at her slightly frazzled thoughts, she reached for the bag Ryan placed on the bench top.

  He sat on the stool across from her, leaning his elbows on the bench as he watched silently while she opened the boxes and divided the food onto two plates.

  While she mulled over what to say, how much to tell him, what she could get away with, she poured two glasses of iced water, placed one before him and one next to her own plate. Then, taking the stool opposite him on the other side of the bench, she picked up the fork, speared a piece of sweet and sour pork and popped it in her mouth.

  Chewing, she became aware of him watching her. “What?”

  Ryan studied her before slowly taking his fork. “Thank you.”

  Only then did it hit her what she’d done. She’d divided the food, automatically given him a serve along with a drink. It had happened so naturally she hadn’t even thought about it. Now she thought about it, and all she could do was mentally shake her head.

  “You don’t have to feed me.”

  “You’re right, I don’t. But I’m not such a bitch I’d eat in front of you, and I like to eat while it’s hot. So dig in.” She returned her attention to the fried rice.

  For several minutes they ate in silence, Ella keeping her attention on the plate but very aware of Ryan’s presence.

  She was almost finished, Ryan’s plate was empty, when he asked, “Where do you go when you leave here?”

  “Work.” Taking a sip, she looked at him over the rim of the glass. “Shopping.”

  “Airport.”

  Lowering the glass, she resumed eating.

  “The brooch.”

  She scooped the fork through the fried rice.

  “What did Snake give you in return for it?”

  “You got the brooch, I’m sure he told you.”

  “It was pretty bloody idiotic to go into that pub. It’s a viper’s den.”

  That tickled her funny bone. “Good place to meet a snake.”

  He paused.

  Glancing up, she noted his narrowed eyes.

  “It’s not a joke.”

  Actually, that was true. Her arse was history now that Snake had been tapped by security and maybe the feds. “You have no idea.”

  “Try me.”

  “Sneaky.” She waggled the fork.

  Ryan took the mobile from his pocket and placed it on the table.

  “Threat?” Shaking her head, she ate another piece of pork. “That’s low, Ryan.”

  “No, what’s low is that you have information that possibly places you in danger, that’s put you on the feds’ radar, and you’re barely treading water right now.”

  “I’ve kept my head above it so far.” Feigning nonchalance, she shrugged.

  “Any minute you’re going under. I’m through wasting time. What you know could save lives that right now are being torn apart.” His eyes nailed her to the spot. “Young girls’ lives. You know something that may help save them.”

  She bit her lip.

  “Unless you’re happy to waste time playing twenty questions while somewhere underage girls are getting into situations they can’t comprehend fully with devastating results.”

  His words were hard, lacked emotion, but she felt every one like it was thrown at her.

  Appetite gone, she pushed the plate away. “Like I don’t know that, Ryan?”

  “Then do something about it.”

  “I am. Goddamn it, Ryan, I am!”

  “Tell me.”

  Angry, frustrated, she pressed her lips together.

  Brown eyes practically drilled a hole in her forehead. “You’re protecting someone.”

  Too close. She shook her head.

  “Yes, you are. Start from the beginning.”

  “Argh!” Knowing she was stuck between a rock and a hard place, she rubbed her eyes with the heels of both hands. “You don’t know what you’re asking!”

  “Forget the source for the moment. Tell me how you got involved.” When she ground her teeth, he ordered with steely
resolve, “Now, Ella.”

  She could only push him so far.

  Fisting her hands, she took a deep breath, stretched out her fingers, laid her palms flat on the cool, smooth surface of the kitchen bench. “You know there’s a club, a group of perverted bastards that use underage girls for sex and God knows what perversions.”

  Ryan nodded.

  Meeting his gaze steadily, she continued woodenly, “I don’t know who they all are. As I find out I pass the info to the feds.”

  “How did you get involved?”

  “I didn’t suspect at first, not until later.”

  He waited.

  Starting at the beginning was the only way to talk this out. “I broke down on the road on the freeway. It was early afternoon, cars everywhere. I was in the side lane, hazard lights on. I was just getting my mobile to call for help when a car pulled up behind me.” The best way for her to talk about it was analytically, not letting emotion overtake her. Time had dulled it, but the horror was still there, almost like a bad nightmare that lingered. It didn’t have the same power over her but it was never forgotten. Plus, everything had happened so fast. Bonus in a horrific way, especially as she didn’t remember most of the worst part.

  Eyes fathomless, Ryan didn’t move a muscle. No doubt in his line of work, and previously as a Commando, he’d seen and heard a lot worse.

  “In the rear-view mirror I saw two blokes get out of the car. I was already dialling the break-down service I’m insured with. I kept the car door locked, the window open only a crack. I was really uneasy when the blokes approached, one each side of the car. One looked in the passenger side window while the other kept telling me to pop the bonnet so they could look, but to open the window so he could talk to me properly.” Linking her fingers, she studied her thumbs. “I knew something was wrong, the bloke on my side had dilated pupils, stank of alcohol, and was acting weird. I rang the police, told the bloke through the window help was coming, but then he suddenly raised a piece of metal pole and smashed the window. I didn’t have time to even think because he was suddenly grabbing my hair, unlocking the door, dragging me out. I fought, he brought the iron bar down on my head. Cars kept going past.” Lips pursed, she rubbed a small mark on the bench. “That iron bar to the head was probably a good thing. I don’t remember much of what happened next. I remember the pain in my guts, felt the wetness, the warmth just seeping down the front of me. The ice cold feel of the cuts he made as he hacked at me, but it’s like a dream, you know? Like I wasn’t really there. Shock, the doctors said later. I was on the ground, and a witness testified that they broke my leg in two places with the iron bar. By then I was unconscious. But I didn’t forget their faces.” She tapped her temple. “I’ll never forget their faces.”

  Reaching out, Ryan laid a hand over hers. Though he remained silent, strangely his touch was comforting.

  “By the time the police and ambulance arrived the blokes were gone along with my purse. I woke in hospital two days later. Operated on, stitched up and plastered. I was a sight, I can tell you.” She couldn’t even summon a smile, felt so detached. “Police came, detectives, I gave them a description. One of the blokes was nabbed not long after while using my credit card. I mean, really? How stupid can you get? He happily spilled the guts on his mate. They were charged and it was off to court, and I thought justice would be done.”

  Falling silent, she thought about those days in court. How things had gone so wretchedly wrong. How she’d felt facing those men, knowing what they’d done, seeing them smirk at her.

  A gentle squeeze of her hand refocussed her attention on Ryan. There was something so reassuring about his silence, the way he gazed at her, listening to her, letting her talk at her own pace without interrupting. He’d always been able to make her feel safe, needed.

  Until he hadn’t needed her.

  That had her drawing her hand back - or trying to, because he didn’t relinquish it.

  “No,” he said quietly.

  No point causing a scene. Remember, he’s here for information, otherwise he wouldn’t be here holding your hand.

  Ignoring the little pang deep down, Ella shrugged. “The daddies of these two men were rich, powerful. They had the best lawyers, the best defence. I found out too late that my own lawyer was bought off by them. He made a disaster of my case, threw me to the wolves while appearing so concerned. The psychiatrist, the judge, they were all in on it. And you know why?”

  “Because they are all part of the club.”

  “Yeah. Club rules, all for one and one for all, that shit. The psychiatrist and defending lawyer pushed the drug and alcohol bit, argued that those bastards who attacked me acted under the influence of drugs and alcohol, they acted without knowledge or intent. My lawyer was useless. The men were found guilty, the judge passed gaol sentence, and the time was a joke. A huge bloody joke. They hadn’t even spent much time in gaol prior to the trial because their rich daddies could afford the bail.” The injustice still stung, but Ella smiled tightly. “It took me awhile to get over it. Now I wasn’t seeing only a physio, but also a counsellor. The police weren’t happy, but what could they do? They try to protect us, to bring the lawbreakers to gaol, but then courts let them go, judges don’t give them the full sentences, so many things to go wrong.”

  Calloused thumbs grazed gently over the backs of her hands and she was startled to realise that she hadn’t noticed Ryan had slid his hands beneath hers, laying their palms together, closing his long fingers around hers in support. The hardness of his eyes had softened.

  Man always did know how to make her feel special.

  “Anyway,” she continued, “for a time I was scared to go out on my own. Scared to drive on my own, sweating when I was on the freeway. Then one day I was loading the shopping into my car and I heard voices. I looked across and there was the judge, the two lawyers and the psychiatrist, all laughing and back-slapping. The bastards were all friends and I knew then that I’d been duped. My case had never stood a chance. I stood there watching them and everything changed. I swore they wouldn’t get away with it, that I’d get them back somehow. Of course, I didn’t know then what they did but I soon found out.

  “I started researching them as much as I could. I wasn’t a sleuth, I’m not even that brainy when it comes to following people or digging into their backgrounds, so it took me awhile. But then I stumbled onto something, got some information…” Her voice trailed away.

  Ryan regarded her steadily.

  Ella quickly continued. “I wanted to make sure I wasn’t found out or suspected. I moved over here, got a job. Then when I got word I flew back to Melbourne, confirmed it, rang the AFP and flew back. Each time I confirmed something, I rang the feds. So far one of the lawyers and a psychiatrist has gone down. There’s one more lawyer and the judge to go. Then I’m done with my lot.” She slid her hands out from between his. “That’s it.”

  Straightening, Ryan laid his hands on his thighs. “You got fake documents from Snake.”

  “Not Snake. He just gave me the name of someone who could do it for me.”

  “Who?”

  “No idea. The number was different both times.”

  “You still have the numbers?”

  “No. Whoever makes the documents doesn’t use the same number twice. When I tried to track the number, it was a burner phone. I had to get a new number several times from Snake.”

  “Like you used to phone the feds.”

  She didn’t bother to deny it.

  “Why the false documents?”

  “In case this all blew up, I didn’t want any of those bastards to check things out and find my name linking me to travelling to Melbourne several times. I changed the documents to false names several times to avoid the same name springing up too often.”

  “You were seen going to the airport but not spotted getting on a plane or off it.”

  “Wigs, make-up, clothes I don’t normally wear. It’s not hard to kit yourself up in the toilets and i
t’s easy to get lost in the crowd. I always timed my flights to try and coincide with as many arrivals and departures as I could to have maximum people coming and going in the toilets. The crowds were huge at times, always in a hurry, travellers going in every direction making good coverage.”

  “Smart girl.”

  “Let’s just say I’m a lot more paranoid than I used to be. Or maybe that’s careful. Not that it did me any good, apparently.” Her lips twisted in derision. “Not as smart as I thought I was.”

  “Who did you meet in Melbourne?”

  “Someone who has a lot more to lose if I dob them in.”

  Ryan surprised her by switching angle. “You said you were finished with your ‘lot’. But that’s not the end of it, is it?”

  “I know there are more involved in that scum club.”

  “Do you know who else?”

  “Not yet, but I will.”

  “From your source.”

  No point trying to deny that, so she nodded.

  “Why won’t your source reveal them all?”

  “Because-” Realising she’d almost given away her source, Ella stumbled, recovered. “They don’t know everyone yet. They keep looking for proof.”

  “When they have that proof they contact you.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why don’t they contact the police themselves?”

  Knowing she was on dangerous ground, that a slip of the tongue could betray everything, Ella thought carefully before answering. “They know it’s partly my revenge, that I need to do this. I need to see each one of those bastards go down. Also, they don’t want to be linked to it.”

  “How did you meet your source?”

  “They contacted me.”

  “They know you.”

  Dangerous ground again. “They do now.”

  “So recent. Not an old friend.”

  “What would an old friend know about this club? None of the friends we had would ever be into anything like that.”

  “Are you in contact with old friends?”

  “What?”

  “Back home.”

  “Not lately. Not since I shifted over here.”

  “Any reason?”

  “Should there be?”

  Now she was skirting every question, looking for the pothole that would trip her.