Necessary Evil of Nathan Miller (16 page)

Almost totally unhinged, I strained at
the ropes that held me, willing there to be a weakness to let me
free. All that broke was my skin, blood oozing out of the burning
cuts. Warm and strange, the added pain brought on a fresh flood of
tears.

"You have to let me go, now," I told
him urgently.

"No, not now. Be patient." He hesitated
a moment before he continued, "You'll get out of here. If you keep
believing it, they can’t win."

I felt so tired and drowsy, my eyes
began to close again. "Bullshit," I mumbled.

"You’ll be fine," he soothed.

No I won’t, I thought as consciousness
faded.

Part 48

Nathan was late. I'd put on lipstick
then chewed it off as I waited. I'd replaced it with the all-day
colour stuff that stained my lips. I'd played piano until even I'd
gotten sick of the sound, so I stretched out on the floor and
turned on the TV. Some reality show about people who could dance…or
sing…or something. I let the music wash over me as I started
another set of physiotherapy exercises. I could feel my legs
getting stronger day by day.

I even felt sweaty from the exercise –
it sure was a warm day for September. Almost October now – where
had the year gone?

I heard the sound of a car in the
driveway.

Nathan! Finally.

I jumped to my feet, clicking off the
TV. I hurried to the door so I could see him. I'd taken particular
care to look good tonight – he'd promised to take me out for
dinner. Not really a date, but I'd dressed for it anyway. A pretty
red satin shirt over dress pants. I felt giddy.

Maybe that's why I made such a stupid
mistake.

I flung the door open and stood on the
doorstep, wondering why his engine sounded so loud today. I was
halfway down the steps when I realised the car wasn't his.

I saw a white convertible – a woman's
car, definitely. It still had a crystal hanging from the rear
vision mirror, catching the sunlight and throwing rainbows across
the dash. Yet it wasn't a woman who climbed out. It was a big,
bulky bloke, wearing a heavy coat and cap, so I couldn't see his
face at all.

It's her. She gave her car to one of
the bastards and he's here to take me back!

My hesitation lasted barely a moment,
before I realised that I couldn’t go back inside. The only way to
survive was to run and hope he didn't catch me. So run I did,
bolting through the garden and onto the footpath.

I thought of Bruce's guard dogs, but
didn't dare cross the road when my pursuer had a car at his
disposal. He'd run me down before I could make it to the gate.

There were some Moreton Bay fig trees
in the park up the road that I might be able to climb. If I could
reach them without him seeing me, I could hide up there until he
gave up. He couldn't get a car into the park without drawing a hell
of a lot of attention – and none of my neighbours would stand for
that.

I wasn't prepared for the pounding
footsteps of him following me on foot.

I tried to speed up, but my muscles
screamed. This was the first time I'd tried to run since I got out
of hospital and I wasn't really ready for it.

I'm not ready to die yet, either.
Faster!

Over my panicked panting, I heard his
breathless voice. "No, stop. Come back. You can't outrun me."

Oh God, it sounds familiar. It has to
be one of them – and I have nothing to kill him with.

I put on another spurt of speed. I
couldn't keep it up much longer, but I knew what would happen if he
caught me.

It was almost as if he'd read my mind.
"Come back. Please let me…"

No. I'd rather die than let you hurt me
again!

A hand landed heavily on my shoulder.
If I'd had enough breath, I'd have screamed. Instead, I tried to
shake him off.

I hit Margaret's garden edging and lost
my footing, tumbling onto her lawn. I rolled as I hit, determined
to at least face the man who was trying to kill me. I wanted to
spit in his face, as it was the only projectile I had to hand.
Maybe I could blind him with phlegm…

He pulled the cap off. I almost
cried.

"Angel, are you okay?" Nathan
asked.

"How could you scare me like that? Why
did you…" My throat hurt too much to speak. I could barely
breathe.

"What do you think of my new car?"

"You're…a fucking…dickhead! You're late
because you got a new car?"

"Yes." He looked uncomfortable. "I know
you didn't like the old one, so I figured it was time for something
new."

His eyes kept darting every which way
except my face. I followed his gaze and saw Margaret, standing with
her son's hockey stick. I'd seen her chase an escaped pitbull at
the park with that hockey stick. She'd stunned the dog senseless
with one swipe – it'd still been unconscious when the guys from the
pound showed up. She was a mean shot.

For a moment, I wondered if I should
let her hit Nathan a couple of times for scaring me. I smiled
grimly at the thought, before I drove it from my head. I couldn't
let her hit him – I'd need his help to get home. And we had a date
tonight.

"The car's fine. Please, help me up and
back to my house," I said shortly.

He slid an arm under my legs, but even
that hurt.

"Just help me walk," I told him, trying
to steel myself against the pain I knew it would cost me. Better
walking in pain than screaming while he carried me. What would my
neighbours think?

He protested a bit, but I stayed firm,
so he helped me stand. When my legs threatened to collapse beneath
me, his supportive arm was the only thing keeping my upright.

I smiled at the neighbours we passed,
who all seemed to be doing gardening or sports on their front lawns
in the last of the evening sunlight.

I managed okay until we reached the
bottom of the steps to my front door. I leaned heavily against the
rail, not sure how I was going to make it up those last few steps.
Maybe if I rested for a few minutes and Nathan held the door open,
I could stagger in and collapse on the couch.
Maybe…No. I can't
stop now. Must climb those steps and then I can rest.

He swept me up and carried me across
the threshold.

"Rest," I heard him say, as he
carefully laid me on the couch.

With my legs screaming at me, it was
hard to do anything else. I couldn't remember hurting this much –
not even when the bastards had me. I vaguely remembered something
about how the memory of pain fades, but I still wasn't prepared for
it.

I focussed on my breathing. If I could
stay conscious, then maybe I could take some pain medication to
help it go away.

Bruce from over the road came to check
that I was okay. I smiled and thanked him, heartened by how helpful
my neighbours were. He'd brought the block-splitter, too, I saw. I
made sure to tell him that Nathan was my friend before he headed
back home.

Nathan asked me if anything had
happened while I'd been home alone and I reassured him that it
hadn't. I almost told him about the new song that was taking shape,
but I couldn't summon the energy to walk to the piano to play it
for him. Another time, maybe.

I started to ask about our date, but
Nathan was kind enough to postpone it for another time.

I relaxed on the couch, finally giving
in to the pain, hoping it would fade if I lay still long
enough.

As if to make up for frightening me,
Nathan was more caring than usual. He murmured my name as he
stroked my hair, before moving my body into the recovery position I
remembered from my first aid courses.

How sweet. He thought I was
unconscious. He evidently didn't know how incapacitating severe
pain could be. It didn't affect my hearing, though, as he keyed in
a call on his phone.

As he spoke to the stranger on the
other end of the phone, I realised he was talking to the person
watching the surveillance cameras – he had backup. At first, I was
relieved, then mortified, as I thought of the times I'd walked
around the house without clothes on. I never wanted to meet this
surveillance person. If I did, I might have to shoot him.

Once he'd ended the call, Nathan leaned
over me and stroked my neck. Before I could ask him why, he removed
his hand. I heard him turn the TV on. It sounded like he was
watching a cooking show. I let the commentary form a dull buzz in
my brain, sitting somewhere behind the pain, until someone
mentioned a dessert with strawberries.

My stomach reminded me it was dinner
time, but I'd have given anything for the dessert on the cooking
show. I swear I could almost smell it, I wanted strawberries so
badly. I knew I had some in the fridge, but I wasn't sure I could
walk that far without hurting myself.

I looked at Nathan, who was intent on
the TV programme. I called his name hesitantly, not sure how much
to ask him for. Maybe if he could carry me to the kitchen and pull
up a chair, I could sit down while I washed and hulled the
strawberries…

He didn't say a word. He just held out
the bowl. He'd even sliced them. I could have kissed him. I nearly
did.

He looked embarrassed, as if he could
read my mind. "Eat something so you can take pain medication." He
nodded at the pills beside a glass of water on the table.

I couldn't thank him enough. I wanted
to kiss him more than ever, but I banished the thought. I savoured
my strawberries instead.

Part 49

“You’ve really recovered remarkably
well,” Althea told me. “I wish some of my other patients were as
diligent with their exercises as you!” She lowered her voice. “Just
don’t overdo, it, okay?”

I nodded and smiled, not bothering to
tell her that, by her standards, I probably overdid it every day. I
figured it was better to work hard on my recovery than to baby
myself and die as a result. If I was meant to die on that beach, it
was only a matter of time before they returned for me. And I
intended to be ready. I had death to deliver and pain in bulk
quantity.

Nathan sat in the waiting room,
impatiently tapping at the touchscreen on his phone. He looked like
he was ordering hits on violent criminals, but I knew he wore that
expression when he played games. He pocketed his phone before I
reached him, though, so I couldn’t check to see if I was right.

I paid for the session, booked my next
appointment and walked out of the physiotherapy clinic. Nathan
matched my steps, offering a welcome arm to help me walk to the
car. Tired and hurting, I accepted his assistance and leaned
against him as we made slow progress through the car park.

“
How was the
session?” he asked. “Are you recovering well?”

“
Yes. She was quite
impressed at my progress,” I admitted, not meeting his eyes. I
didn’t want him to know just how well I’d healed. If he thought I
didn’t need his help, he might not stay with me. I could walk, but
I wasn’t sure I could defend myself well enough to take them all
out if the bastards turned up together.

Almost automatically, Nathan lifted me
into the car and fastened my seat belt for me. I said nothing
except to thank him for his kindness.

The drive back seemed very short, as I
was lost in thought. I wondered how much longer Nathan would stay
if they didn’t come after me soon. I dreaded an attack, yet if the
delay meant losing Nathan, an attack couldn’t come soon enough.

The moment I saw my house, I knew my
wish had been granted. Someone had been there and they hadn’t
hidden their visit, either. The front door gaped open like a fresh
wound.

Nathan dithered for a minute or two. I
wondered why he didn’t call his colleagues. Maybe they’d given up
waiting for something bad to happen to me...was he the only one
left? He confirmed my suspicions by suggesting we call the police
instead of his team.

While he made the call, I fished
through his glove box, desperately hoping for a weapon. A
screwdriver, a can of pepper spray...I hit the jackpot with a
pocket knife. Feverishly, while Nathan was still distracted, I
folded out the blade, resolving to stab anyone in the groin who got
too close. Castration sounded like a really good idea.

I dropped the knife when Nathan came
close – I didn’t want him to try and take it off me.

His reassuring litany lasted until the
police arrived, in a proper patrol car and all. I let Nathan carry
me inside once they’d given the all clear – my intruders had
already left. I wasn’t prepared for the mess they’d left behind,
though.

I curled up in an armchair, afraid to
touch anything that might be evidence. It took me a moment for my
shocked brain to realise that it didn’t matter what I touched – my
fingerprints and DNA would be everywhere, anyway. Nathan’s,
too.

I saw the empty knife block in the
kitchen and immediately thought of her. A knife would have been my
first choice of weapon, too.

If she’d come and gone without staying
to hurt me more, she must have left something behind – either a
message or something that would hurt me in her absence. The most
personal place for her to do that would be my bedroom, so that’s
where I bent my steps.

Cruel and unusual were her style, so I
was mystified by the mess in my bedroom. It looked like she’d gone
through my wardrobe, trying on and discarding items as if she was
choosing the perfect outfit for a special occasion. Killing me, I
guessed.

A flash of blue caught my eye – the
dress I’d worn to my high school graduation, hanging askew on the
hanger. It was the most expensive dress I’d ever owned – it cost
more than my ballgown. I’d hoped one day to wear it again, but
she'd shattered that dream with a slash of my scissors. I almost
cried.

From underwear I’d never worn to
dresses I’d hoped to wear again – all had fallen victim to her
blade. Much like me, except the clothes hadn’t fought back.