Manhunt (7 page)

“Michael, please talk to me.”

Michael’s eyes were still steadfastly avoiding hers.

“Nikki…” He sighed heavily, starting and stopping several times before finishing his sentence. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that before. It was not my intention to make you uncomfortable. Quite the opposite, in fact. I thought it might help you adjust if you felt… cared for. It was obviously ineffective and inappropriate. It won’t happen again.”

Michael got up and went to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him and effectively ending the conversation. He immediately started beating himself up for the ridiculous ambling. He was trying to make her feel cared for? As opposed to her actually being cared for? It didn’t take an idiot to see just how easily the words could once again be misconstrued. Maybe it was better that way, he told himself as he switched the water temperature to frigid.

Michael took a quick shower, though the water was unsuccessful at washing away his stress. His nerves were pulled so taut they might actually snap. Was it just 48 hours ago he had good-naturedly dodged the flirtations both of a young girl with a broken arm and her mother? Was it really so short a time ago he had saved a car accident victim? That he had discussed his continuing career at Philadelphia General with his father, feeling for the first time in years that maybe, just maybe, he could be the man Nikki deserved?

Was it just two days ago Sebastian was still alive?

Now here he was, running from the law, hiding out in a crappy hotel, taking a cold shower while keeping one ear open to make sure that the beautiful amnesiac he’d kidnapped didn’t try to escape. Michael punched the shower wall hard enough to crack one of the ancient cornflower blue tiles, cutting his knuckle in the process. Perfect, he thought as he watched his blood blend with the water and swirl down the drain. Well, he figured, at least now their knuckles matched. She’d torn up her knuckles by punching too, he thought with a little bit of morbid pride as he recalled the bruises he’d seen on Sebastian’s jaw.

Michael threw on some pajama pants and went back into the bedroom to check on Nikki before brushing his teeth and settling in for a nap. She was already asleep sideways on the bed, snoring lightly. A bottle of painkillers and an empty juice box sat on the nightstand. She was laying half over and half under the covers, which she was hugging balled up against her chest. Her pajama top had ridden up, past the top of the bandages and allowing him to steal a glance at the bottom curve of her breast. It taunted him as he watched it move with every deep inhale and exhale she took. His fingers twitched, feeling as though they were trying singlehandedly to pull Michael towards her so they could touch the soft skin that was calling them. One little touch couldn’t hurt, could it? After all, she was fast asleep, she would never know. Michael began yelling at himself in his head for even considering it. He was many things, but a molester was not one of them.

Swallowing hard and still fighting the urge, he gently slid her to one side so he could pull the covers back before sliding her towards him and tucking her in. There was an old quilt, handmade but worn, folded in the closet. He laid down on top of the comforter, tossing the quilt over his legs. He wished he could sleep under the covers too, but he imagined she felt safer this way. Besides, he clearly didn’t need any more incentive. He was barely hanging on by a thread as it was.

Once again he woke up to Nikki’s nightmare. He shook her shoulders gently and she sat up with a jerk, hiding her face in her hands as she broke down crying.

“Nikki? Sunshine, what’s wrong?”

He was concerned it wasn’t just a nightmare, that it was another memory resurfacing. Why couldn’t she remember happy things? Their lives might not have been easy, but it certainly wasn’t all bad. There were plenty of wonderful memories mixed in with the bad. He should know; he’d been surviving on them for years.

“We were little, not as young as we were in my last dream. Nine, ten maybe? Your dad, he was… hitting you in the yard between our trailers. Screaming nonsense. Your nose was bleeding, and when your mom came up behind him and tried to stop him, he elbowed her in the face and she fell to the ground.”

Michael tried to smooth her hair behind her ears so he could see her face. “We were ten. Do you remember what happened after that?”

Nikki looked up at him, tears staining her face. “No, that’s when I woke up.”

“You saved me. He was choking me. You ran out onto your stoop yelling at him to leave me alone, but he ignored you. You grabbed a big rock from your mom’s garden and threw it at him, hitting him in the knee. He let go of my neck and I ran to you, pulling you into your trailer and locking the door behind us before he could hurt you too. He tried to beat down the door, but you were so brave. You just screamed through the door that if he didn’t leave us alone, you’d call the police and have him arrested again.

“He left and I was scared to death that he was looking for something to break in with. Not that he would have had to try very hard. It was a trailer, not Fort Knox. I was convinced that he was going to hurt you and it was going to be all my fault. But he passed out on the couch before he got the chance. Fool had been so drunk, he claimed he didn’t remember any of it the next day. Like that was supposed to make it any better.”

Michael and Nikki both huffed in disbelief at the same time.

“I think I remember that.” Nikki squinted her eyes as if focused intensely. Michael could practically see the fog slowly lifting from the memory. “My mom wasn’t home, God only knows where she was, and I didn’t really want to call my dad because I was afraid I’d get in trouble for being home alone. We curled up in sleeping bags on my living room floor so we could be near the phone and went to sleep.”

“After you played nurse and cleaned up my bloody nose. And made me put on that ridiculous Care Bears t-shirt, that is.”

“Hey, it was clean, wasn’t it?” Nikki retorted, using the same unapologetic tone of voice she’d used when she originally gave it to him.

“Yes, it was,” Michael chuckled. He still had that t-shirt in a cedar chest in his apartment.

He wondered if he’d ever get to go back there again, to that apartment, to that life. He doubted it. Not that he regretted it for an instant. He couldn’t, not with Nikki sitting next to him.

“Was our childhood always like that? Was it always so hard?”

“Sometimes. But we made the best of it. We had Christian. He lived in the same trailer park, just on the other street. Then when we were in fifth grade, Sophie moved to our town and started school with us. Her family had a lot more money than any of ours, but she never cared about that. After that, the four of us were always together. We had a lot of good times. Then when…” Michael turned his gaze away from her, his eyes narrowing as he plucked at a loose piece of yarn on the quilt. “When things changed, Christian and Sophie tried their best to keep us all together.”

“When things changed? You mean, when we broke up?”

Michael’s head jerked about to look at her. “Do you remember?”

“No, but you said that we weren’t together anymore, which led me to believe that we were together at some point. There must have been a breakup in there somewhere.”

Michael flipped the television on, ready to be done with this conversation. He couldn’t take much more. An old rerun of Magnum, P.I. was on. There was some woman on the run turning to Magnum for help. Great, he thought, maybe I’ll get some pointers.

“Michael?”

“Yes, Nikki,” Michael snapped, “I meant after the breakup. Now go to sleep.”

“But…” It was clear Nikki didn’t understand the 180 degree shift in Michael’s demeanor.

“But nothing, Nicole. I’m done talking about this. Go to sleep.”

The sound of his grinding teeth was not nearly loud enough to drown out the painful sound of her sniffles.

Chapter 8

Sometime in the middle of the night, Nikki got up to use the restroom and noticed the picture Sophie had given her in her back pocket, folded in half. She stared at it. Michael’s face was so much more handsome without the snarl she had been dealing with most of the last few days. She heard Sophie’s voice in her head, reminding her she was loved. It might have been true once, she thought to herself, but it sure didn’t feel true now. She looked at Michael, who looked so peaceful in his sleep, so much closer to the boy in the picture. She fell back to sleep wishing she had a better idea of who that boy was, and what had changed him so drastically.

*******

Nikki sat on the edge of the bed and watched as Michael paced back and forth from one end of the hotel room to the other. His tuxedo tie was untied and hung loosely around his neck, the top collar button undone. He looked… pissed off. Actually, he’d looked pissed off for going on three years. Nikki wasn’t sure why she kept trying. She was certain the only reason he’d asked her to prom in the first place was because Christian and Sophie guilted him into it. Dr. and Mrs. Brennan probably helped too.

Christian and Sophie had the whole weekend planned out, their last big hurrah before graduation. Christian had rented a limo, first to take them to prom, then afterwards to Atlantic City for a long weekend. Nikki didn’t know exactly how he had gotten the funds for such an extravagant vacation, and she didn’t ask. She knew whatever he was doing was illegal. It was the one part of his life he didn’t share with her, and she respected that. It was probably better for them both that way. Her father had his suspicions, of course, but he chose to turn a blind eye. Christian was too good to his daughter to do otherwise, he’d once said.

Prom was awkward at first. Michael stood stiffly for pictures, being polite but distant. She couldn’t get him to dance with her, but he glared menacingly at anyone else who asked. Especially Sebastian. Finally, Christian announced he’d had enough. Michael wasn’t just ruining Nikki’s night, he was on the verge of ruining his and Sophie’s as well, not to mention the entire damn weekend. Prom was supposed to be the best time of their lives, and after all they’d been through, they deserved a little happiness, damn it. Christian pulled a flask out of his inside jacket pocket and spiked their drinks with vodka. Michael raised an eyebrow at him when he did it, but after a moment’s hesitation, raised his plastic cup, tapping it against Christian’s before downing it in one large gulp.

A couple of drinks later, and Michael’s gruff exterior melted away. He pulled Nikki close to his side and didn’t let her go. The rest of the evening was spent dancing in each other’s arms, talking with friends while Michael wrapped his arm around her waist and nuzzled his nose into her hair, kissing her neck, whispering words of love in her ear, singing along to love songs to her while they danced. For a couple of wonderful hours, she’d had her Michael back, the one she was beginning to think was gone for good.

There was a bottle of champagne waiting for them in the limo. Christian made an uncharacteristically eloquent toast about true love and true friendships lasting forever. It made Sophie and Nikki beam with joy, toasting enthusiastically. Something about it set Michael off, though, the distance returning to his gaze as he set the glass down in a cup holder and pivoted away from them, staring out the window.

By the time they’d traveled the three hours to their hotel, the effects of the alcohol were starting to wear off. Nikki was shocked at the number of people milling around the hotel lobby and casino. Michael took her hand and pushed his way through the crowd to reach the front desk and check in.

Christian handed Michael a room key with a smug look on his face, his arm around Sophie. He and Sophie kissed Nikki goodnight and told her and Michael they’d see them in the morning. Michael looked at Christian, first with confusion, then acknowledgement, then anger. They had both assumed he would be rooming with Christian and Nikki would be with Sophie. But unlike Nikki, he was none too pleased when he realized he’d been set up. Christian wagged his eyebrows at him suggestively as he shook Michael’s hand and told him to have a good night. Sophie just giggled as Christian dragged her in the direction of the elevators, leaving Michael and Nikki staring at their backs as they left.

Which brought them back to the present: Nikki, in her long lavender prom dress, sitting on the foot of the bed, watching Michael pace back and forth in front of her, rubbing the back of his neck nervously as he tried to work through his thoughts.

“Nikki…” he started, then stopped and began pacing again.

“Nicole…” he started again, groaning out loud as the words refused to come.

Nikki threw her hands up in frustration. “Oh, Jesus H. Christ! It’s a bed, Michael. A place to sleep. It’s not the first time we’ve slept in the same bed.”

“That was before.” The pacing continued.

“Before what, Michael? Before you started pushing me away? Before you broke up with me? Or maybe you mean before they died. Because it’s not exactly clear.”