by JD Nixon
“Heller,” I complained and gave up, flopping back down on my side of the bed. “I need sex.”
“So do I. It’s been a long time.”
“Really? You haven’t been out?” That wasn’t like him. He must have been worried about us.
“No, not since . . . your sister-in-law.”
Remembering that situation killed my desire for him instantly. “They’ve separated. Brian’s moved back home. Mum was hysterical.”
“I don’t care.”
I turned on my side to face him, searching his eyes for any sign that he was remorseful about breaking up a marriage. There was nothing. His icy blue eyes gazed back unwaveringly, no guilt or regret evident. He could be such a cold man.
“This Saturday, I’m planning on going out. I’ll drop you at Armstrong’s house on the way and pick you up when I’m finished.”
I smiled, happy again. “Thank you, Heller. That would be great.”
“It will probably be very early though, four or five in the morning, when I pick you up.”
“I don’t mind. That’s almost the whole night.”
“And you have to promise to take it easy.”
“Don’t think I want to promise that!” And I rolled over and went to sleep, anticipation of Saturday night filling my thoughts.
The next day Heller, Daniel and I collected Niq from the hospital. He was heartbreakingly small and slight, his light blue eyes even more enormous than usual in his pale, thin face. He had made a good recovery, but had no memory of the accident or even our shopping trip. The pins had been removed from his leg, and his youth and good health contributed to him being able to walk again fairly well. He was very excited about returning home and I sat in the backseat with him, holding his hand. It was wonderful to listen to his animated chattering again.
Heller carried him up the stairs, paying no heed to his squawks of protest. Niq and I spent the rest of the day lying in Heller’s big bed, holding hands, watching TV and talking. I told him everything that had happened while he was in hospital, including an edited version of the Marcus story, and he entertained me with his wickedly funny observations about hospital life.
“What was it like being in a coma?” I asked curiously.
He thought for a minute, his face scrunched in concentration. “It was kind of like being in a room by myself and the room was made of one-way mirrors. I could see and hear everyone on the outside, but I couldn’t talk to them. I couldn’t communicate. No one could hear me speak or see me move. It was weird.”
“So when everyone was sitting by your bed talking, you could hear everything they said?”
“Yes, and I was trying to talk back, but they couldn’t hear me. I remember waiting to see you, and I was worried because I saw everyone else outside the glass room, but never you.”
“I was unconscious for a while, and then I couldn’t move for a long time. I fractured my pelvis. I came to you as soon as I was able to move.”
“I remember. I looked out of the glass room one day and you were finally sitting there in a wheelchair, crying and crying. You looked so sad that I wanted to comfort you, but I couldn’t get out of the glass room. I tried so hard to communicate with you, but you couldn’t hear me and kept crying. I kicked and kicked at the glass, until it cracked making a little hole and I was able to call your name through it to let you know that I was all right.”
“That’s when you said ‘Tilly’ that day.”
“Maybe, I dunno. I don’t remember,” he shrugged. “Over the next few days or weeks, I couldn’t tell, I kept kicking at the glass until I broke it all away and I woke up properly.”
“Heller will never let us go shopping again.”
“Oh well, back to online shopping again,” he said philosophically. I squeezed his hand and smiled at him.
We spent the next few days lying in bed, resting and chatting about everything.
“Niq, how did you meet Heller?” I’d always wondered.
“I’ve lived with him since I was about eight, so I don’t remember everything. He used to live near me when I was a kid. I guess you could say he kidnapped me.”
What? Not another one? Was Heller’s hobby kidnapping boys or something? I thought, shocked, but let Niq continue.
“I was neglected as a kid. My mother wasn’t a good carer. She didn’t look after me. She was a junkie and there would be days, even weeks, when she left me to look after myself because she was out of it. Sometimes she even disappeared for days and I was left in the house all by myself, day and night. I don’t know who my father is. She probably didn’t know either. She rented a dirty little house, more like a shack, I guess. The yard was overgrown. The house was full of rubbish. I remember it stank and there were cockroaches everywhere. Most of the time there was no food, and she sold anything we owned to buy more drugs. We had no furniture. I didn’t even have a bed. I slept on a dirty rug on the bare floor. We didn’t have any electricity because it was cut off.”
I squeezed his hand again. He was so calm and matter-of-fact about the horrendous things he was telling me.
“I didn’t go to school and I didn’t have any books or toys. We had no relatives or friends. Mum didn’t beat me or anything. She just totally ignored me. Sometimes nobody spoke to me for weeks. I remember being hungry all the time and so cold in winter. Men used to come over and sometimes they’d be violent. They didn’t care that there was a kid in the house. I watched them do everything to Mum. I’ve seen everything, Tilly. Everything. And she didn’t care what they did to her as long as they gave her some money for drugs. She’d offer to let them do things to me too sometimes, but I was such a dirty little kid that nobody took up her offer. And because of that, I always tried to keep out of the way when there were any men around.”
He took a sip of water from the glass on the bedside table. Tears pricked my eyes, but I blinked them away. I’d had enough of crying.
“One night I was sitting in the front yard on the fence, huddled in the cold. It was late and Mum had someone with her, so I was staying out of their way. I remember I was starving, as usual. Heller walked past on the footpath, eating a sandwich. He must have been walking home from a job. I was in awe of him. To me he looked like some kind of god, he was so big and beautiful. He stopped when he saw me and asked me what I was doing up so late and whether I was okay. I thought he had such a strange voice. You’ll laugh, but I thought he was an alien or something. I didn’t realise then that he had an accent. I’d never heard one before.”
He shifted in the bed to a more comfortable position and continued. “But I was surprised that someone would stop to speak to me. I had decided when I was about seven that I must be invisible, because everyone ignored me. I remember asking him if he could see me. I think it was the first time I had spoken for weeks. He laughed and said of course he could, and asked me again if I was okay. That made me sure that he was an alien, because he could see me when nobody else could. I must have been staring at his sandwich, because he offered it to me. My hunger overcame my shyness, and I grabbed it and stuffed it in my face, I was so hungry. Then he gave me the other half of the sandwich. And when I wolfed that down too, he rummaged in his backpack and handed me an apple as well. I took it. So much for not taking candy from a stranger!”
I laughed. “At least he was a health-conscious stranger.”
“We struck up a weird kind of friendship after that. He walked past the house as much as possible to check on me, and always had some food with him. My whole reason for living became him talking to me. I never said much to him, because I never had much to say. Over time, he asked me questions about my mother and my situation. He found out quite a lot about me. I think he was concerned.
“Then one day, he asked me if I was okay and I burst into tears. I told him that Mum hadn’t moved for days. She was lying on the floor in her bedroom and had started to smell bad. He walked into the house and came out after a few minutes, and took my hand and led me back to his house.” He laughed s
elf-consciously. “I really thought he was going to take me to a spaceship and we would fly off to another, more wonderful, world. But it was just an ordinary house he took me too. But I would have followed him to the end of the universe, Tilly. And that’s how he kidnapped me. He bathed me, clothed me, fed me, cared for me, caught me up on my education, taught me how to look after myself, gave me a real family with him, the twins and Daniel. And here I am. That’s why he’s like a father to me.”
“And nobody’s ever tried to find you? It seems incredible that a child can disappear and no one notices.”
He was sad for a brief moment. “Nobody cared, Tilly. I don’t know what happened to my mother. I think Heller rang up anonymously to report her overdose so that she could be buried at least. Then not long after that we moved here to the Warehouse and Heller started his own business.”
“I don’t know if that’s a sad story or a happy story, Niq. You won’t remember, but when we were at the shopping centre before the accident, you told me that I was like a mother to you. It nearly made me cry when you said that.”
“I don’t remember that, but it’s true. You are like a mother to me. I kind of wish . . .”
“What, sweetie?”
“That you and Heller would get married one day. Then I’d have real parents, like other kids.”
“That’s not going to happen, Niq. Sorry. Heller’s not really the marrying type. And I’m not sure I am either.”
“I can still hope.”
“There’s always hope, Niq,” I sighed, reaching over to ruffle his hair.
Chapter 18
Saturday night came at last. I couldn’t wait to see Will again. Daniel and the twins were going to entertain Niq for the evening while Heller and I were out. Will and I were staying in as usual, so I dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt. Heller was out on the prowl though, so he spent some time getting ready. I relaxed on the bed and watched him dress and groom himself. Lucky woman who captured his attention tonight, I thought, jealous. He wore an ice-blue shirt that matched his eyes and black jeans and a black leather jacket. He looked good enough to eat.
“How do I look?” he asked.
“Delicious,” I said honestly.
He smiled at his reflection. “Then let’s hope there’s a lovely lady out there who’s very hungry tonight.”
“Have you ever come home without getting laid?”
He considered for only an instant. “No.”
Because he almost never drank, Heller never had to worry about getting home after a night out – he drove himself home. He dropped me off at Will’s house and I kissed him chastely on the cheek.
“Have fun tonight,” I said to him.
“I plan to. You enjoy yourself too.”
“I fully intend to enjoy myself as many times as is humanly possible in one night.”
“Remember to take it easy though. You’re not ready for wild, swinging-from-the-ceiling sex yet.”
I mock-pouted. “Spoilsport. That’s my favourite kind.”
I left him chuckling and made my way to the door. He waited until Will let me inside and then drove away. Will fed me a tasty dinner that neither of us gave any justice to, rushing through it in our eagerness to get our hands on each other. We didn’t even bother to clear the table before we were discarding each other’s clothes, frantically kissing, stumbling up the hallway to his bedroom.
He pushed me back onto his bed, his lips locked onto mine, his tongue thrusting forcefully in my mouth. We clutched each other greedily, desperate for intimate physical contact. He impatiently tore off my panties and prised my legs apart with his knee, driving into me lustfully and making me gasp with desire. He slammed into me repeatedly, and I shouted at him to go harder and faster, my legs wrapped around his body, my hands tousling his hair. It was a terrible mixture of pain and pleasure as he pounded me – pain and pleasure, pain and pleasure, pain and pleasure, then pain, pain, pain, then pleasure, nothing but orgasmic pleasure. I savoured the building momentum of sensation inside me until it reached an intensity that was almost unbearable, before strong waves pulsated through me. I screamed joyously with release mere moments before he also came, riding out our spasms together. He collapsed onto me with exhaustion, both of us panting heavily.
“Oh God, I needed that,” he confessed, catching his breath. “It’s been far too long.”
“I know.”
“Did I hurt you?”
“A little, but it was worth it.” I snuggled up to him and we shared a tender kiss before dozing for a while.
Our next time was slower, more caring, loving and sweet. He was gentle and considerate, guiding me to my orgasm before revelling in his own. We lay on our sides, looking at each other, our legs tangled together.
“I love you, Tilly.”
“I love you too, Will.” And at that moment, I meant it.
“Can I start planning our weekend away?”
“I need to find out when I’m free first.”
“Okay. Tell me as soon as you know.”
His fingers brushed lightly against the scarring low on my belly from the operations I’d had, and leaned down to kiss it softly. I plucked up the courage to tell him that I wouldn’t be able to have children now. I had no idea how he would react to momentous news like that.
“Oh.” A pause. “Oh,” was all he said and he threw himself back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.
“It matters to you, doesn’t it?” I tried not to sound bitter.
“I’d be lying to you if I didn’t say that I always hoped to become a father one day. So yeah, I guess it does matter to me.” He stared at the ceiling for a long minute. I watched him the whole time, not believing the incredible hurt that swamped me, trying to maintain my composure. Oh, that car crash, I thought with vicious resentment, it was the gift that kept on giving.
Then he leant on one elbow and looked at me, into the depths of my eyes, a lovely smile crossing his face. “But the thing is that I love you, Tilly, and that means that I love you the way you are. So I don’t really care that you can’t have children, as long as I can have you.”
Tears sprang to my eyes immediately and I leaned in to give him a fierce hug. “Thank you for saying that, Will. It means a lot to me,” I whispered into his hair. Then we kissed for a long time before we fell asleep, clasping hands.
We were woken by repeated, firm knocking on the front door. I sat up drowsily and looked at the clock. It was 4:20 AM.
“It’s Heller,” I mumbled to Will.
“I’ll get the door,” he said, and climbed out of bed, pulling on some boxers. He padded out to the front door, while I scrambled to find my clothes, which were spread out over a few rooms. I dressed quickly in what I could find in the vicinity and joined the men, surreptitiously picking up the other pieces of clothing as I went. Will had his arms crossed defensively across his chest as if he regretted not pulling on a t-shirt, dwarfed by Heller’s greater height and bulk.
Heller’s face wore the usual relaxed sensuous look that spoke volumes of his activities during the evening. He gave me that sexy half-smile that I loved so much, his eyes roving over the dinner plates still sitting on the dining table, leftover food long congealed, and our clothing that formed a debauched trail from the dining table to Will’s bedroom. Heller picked up my bra, which was lying near his feet where I had thrown it last night, and dangled it from one finger, an eyebrow raised in query. I snatched it off him, embarrassed, and shoved it into my handbag.
“Ready to go, Matilda?”
“Yep.” I kissed Will goodbye, squeezed his hand, and promised to be in contact soon. I followed Heller to his Mercedes, yawning all the way.
“Looks like you two were in a hurry last night,” he teased as we drove away.
“We had some urgent business to attend to,” I replied with great dignity.
“I hope there was a satisfactory outcome for you.”
“Several in fact. How about you?”
“I also managed
to conduct multiple satisfactory business transactions during the evening.” That sly half-smile again. We drove in silence for a while.
“Niq told me yesterday how you met. It was a very touching story.”
“He was such a special little kid. So solemn, so quiet, with those big eyes. I’m such a sucker for big, beautiful eyes.” A sideways glance at me, before his eyes returned to the road. “He deserved a better chance in life than what he’d been dealt. He was filthy and half-starved. He would have been fostered out if I hadn’t taken him. He had nobody in the world. Absolutely nobody. I couldn’t let that happen to him. Nobody even cared when he disappeared. Just one less messed-up kid for the government to worry about, if they even knew about him in the first place. His mother wasn’t the model of a good citizen.”
“Was it an overdose that killed her like Niq thinks?”
There was silence for a while. He sounded uncharacteristically evasive when he finally responded. “Hard to say. She wasn’t pretty by the time I saw her. I’ve always wondered what Niq witnessed. He’s never spoken about it. Hopefully he doesn’t remember.”
“Poor Niq,” I declared sincerely. “You’re an extraordinary person, Heller.”
“I don’t think so. I’m no saint, Matilda. You, of all people, know that.” More silence. “I think it’s time for you to go back to work. You’ve had enough sick leave.”
“You have a job for me?”
“Mmm, I’m not sure. Come and talk to me after lunch.” He yawned. “I need to get some sleep first.”
“No sleep last night?”
“She was . . . enthusiastic. And energetic. I’m worn out. And anyway, I never sleep during those outings. That’s when you’re robbed or have your photo taken, or both.” I smiled, thinking of Dixie, then frowned, thinking of Gayle.
We pulled into the Warehouse and walked up the stairs to his flat to shower. If I was returning to work, I’d better collect my things and move back into my place. I didn’t test how I felt about that. I’d enjoyed sharing Heller’s bed, but had to admit that he was a temptation that was becoming harder and harder to resist each night. It was probably for the best if I moved back home. But for tonight, we climbed into bed together and fell asleep immediately.