Necessary Evil of Nathan Miller (14 page)

I think I drooled a little. I covered
my mouth with my hand. "That would be amazing…thanks, Jaga." I took
the warm dish from her hands, cradling it in my arms like a
baby.

"If there's anything you need, you just
call us," she said. "I'll send my husband over if you get any more
men visiting who shouldn't be here."

I smiled tiredly. "It's okay. The men
before were putting in a new security system." I hoped it was true.
Surveillance cameras were a sort of security system, after all.

We both said goodbye and she crossed
the road to return home.

I carried my dinner into the kitchen
and set it on the bench. Lifting the lid, I inhaled the spicy smell
of the still-warm curry. I was ready to eat it all on the spot.
Forcing myself to wait, I stuck some rice and water in the rice
cooker and turned it on.

While I waited for the rice to cook, I
stretched out on the lounge room floor and started doing the
exercises Althea had given me. I did two sets of everything, then
started on the third before the timer beeped. I clambered to my
feet, feeling the burn of exhaustion in my thighs as I stood. I
took a deep breath and forced myself to walk normally, despite the
pain. I could ignore it. I'd ignored worse pain before and no
amount of limping would make those bastards pity me if they turned
up here. Or her.

If I wanted to kill her and all the
rest of them, I needed my strength.

I served up the biryani and rice,
spooning a much larger serving than I normally would. I'd need the
energy to do more exercises after dinner. I ate the lot, though I
felt bloated afterwards as I washed the dishes.

I stuck the rice in the dish Jaga had
given me and opened the fridge without thinking. The smell hit me
again, just as bad as before. I took a moment to see if I could
remove the source…but my fridge looked like something out of a
horror movie. Something had gone mouldy in the crisper and the
mould had spread from shelf to shelf while I'd been away. It looked
like I'd been dissecting calico cats and kept the body parts in my
fridge.

I shut the door again, without leaving
the dish in there. I popped it in the freezer instead, which bore
no fur – just a thin crust of frost.

I headed back to the lounge room,
dropping to the floor to repeat my physio exercises until I ran out
of strength. I couldn't recover fast enough.

After an hour, a sheen of sweat made my
clothes to stick to my skin and my legs were protesting in pain
even as I lay on the floor. I decided to try taking a shower.

I managed to stagger to the bathroom,
only to collapse in a heap on the bathmat. There was no way I could
stand long enough for a shower. Hauling myself up on the side of
the bath, I filled the tub instead and crawled laboriously in.

I wanted to sink beneath the bubbles
and sleep, but I had my own bed for that – a bed I was definitely
looking forward to, after weeks of cold concrete followed by a
slightly softer hospital bed.

I drained the tub and crept over to the
cupboard for a towel to dry myself with. I was so exhausted I knew
as soon as I reached my bed I'd fall in and sleep – I wouldn't want
to come back to hang my towel up. I hesitated for a moment, before
remembering that Nathan would be monitoring the surveillance
cameras. He'd seen me naked only this morning. Taking a deep
breath, I tried to walk nonchalantly down the hall to my
bedroom.

I closed my bedroom door and pulled on
a nightie, before palming the light switch and falling into bed.
The soft mattress cuddled me as the quilt enveloped me in what I
can only describe as heaven. Home.

Part 41

Forgiveness – Superman – Chris –
Clothes

I jerked awake.

Beneath me was the mattress, not
concrete. Back where I started. "What'd you do to me?" I demanded,
my voice hoarse. I could barely move my legs.

His voice came from over by the door. I
could just make out a shadow crouched by the wall. "I gave you my
jumper. I moved you to the mattress so you'd be more comfortable. I
wrapped you in a blanket so you'd be warm. And I took the other
blanket for myself, because it's freezing in here and you're
wearing my jumper." He sounded…pleading. Like he wanted my
forgiveness or something. He wasn't going to get it.

I could feel the fleece on my skin and
the scratchy blanket wrapped around my legs, restricting my
movement. "And how many times did you rape me while I was
unconscious?" I spat angrily.

"None." His quiet response shocked me,
especially as it sounded like he was telling the truth. "And I'm
not going to. Save your strength. You don't need to fight me. I'm
trying to help you."

"Helping me is getting me out of here.
Not stealing my clothes," I pointed out.

"No and I'm sorry. I gave you mine,
though. If you don't want it, I'll trade you my blanket for my
Superman jumper back."

I forced myself to laugh. "Superman?
You think you're Superman? I wouldn't ask you for help even if you
were Superman! Hell, that's what I need. A real superhero, to beat
the crap out of all these bastards, including you, and get me the
hell out of here. I'll keep your damn sweater."

"There are no superheroes, here or
anywhere. All you have is me."

You're a pretty poor excuse for my last
hope. Yet I'll work with what I have to try to get out.

He continued, "Rest while you can.
While I'm here, the others won't touch you."

I hesitated, but I had to ask. "Why
not?"

He sounded like it pained him to say
it. "Because they think it's my turn to hurt you."

Part 42

I woke myself with my own scream.

Tom had hit me. He'd broken my fingers.
And then he'd…

I bit back another scream, trying to
slow my breathing and my heart rate. I was on a comfortable bed,
not there. I groped for the bedside table, hoping I had a bedside
lamp. I couldn't remember any more – it had been so long since I'd
slept in my own bed.

My fingers felt the tingle of the touch
lamp as the globe lit up…and died.

Swearing, I slid out of bed and tried
to find the light switch.

I barely managed to get to the door on
my shaky legs, swatting at the switch until it turned on and I
could sink to the floor.

I hugged my knees to my chest, feeling
very alone.

I want Nathan. I want to feel his arms
around me. I want to hear him tell me that I'm safe.

I thought about calling him, but my
clock told me it was almost midnight. Who would watch the
surveillance cameras if he was here, soothing me to sleep like a
big baby?

I forced myself to stand and walk over
to the desk, my muscles screaming in protest until I sank into the
desk chair. I powered up Alanna's laptop and promptly typed in
everything I could remember of my nightmare about Tom, sparing no
detail. I got to the worst part and stopped.

No one needs to know how it felt when
they raped me. It's no one's damn business. All they need to know
is that it happened. And all of them did it.

Quickly, I typed in the four bastards'
names. I started to fill in sketchy details of what I remembered
about each of them. It was nearing two in the morning by the time
I'd finished, but I didn't dare stop until it was done.

Feeling a bit better, I lay down again,
deciding to leave the light on. I felt a little afraid of the
dark.

I fell asleep and woke screaming. Tom
had raped me again in my sleep and I couldn't…couldn't…

I stumbled out of bed and down the
hall. Nothing calmed me like music. Nothing.

With shaking hands, I lifted the lid on
the piano.

It was time for more exercise. The best
kind.

I touched my fingers lightly to the
keys, praying it wouldn't hurt too much. I needed to hear music –
mine, no one else's.

I tried. I really tried. But my fingers
were stiff and my playing was stiffer still. As the sun rose, I
played scales. Up and down my piano, limbering my fingers up until
they worked again. Yet with every scale, a tune kept creeping into
my head. I wanted to hear it on guitar, but I picked it out in
piano notes, just letting the sound colour the air around me. Even
after hours of scales, my music was still stiff and jerky, but that
seemed to suit this piece. A necessary evil, perhaps. Part of the
discord in my head.

I shook my discordant head and resumed
my scales.

A tattoo on the door matched the rhythm
perfectly, but I knew it meant the person knocking wanted my
attention. I staggered to my feet and looked at the stained glass
decorating my front door, glowing in the early morning
sunlight.

A new day had dawned – yet I hadn't
slept.

Part 43

I dragged my feet to the door and
managed to unlock it. All that playing made it easier to twist the
locks, though it still hurt to stand. I had to lean on the door to
rest.

I shifted my weight from the wooden
door to the screen one, swinging it out to see my visitor
better.

Stronger hands than mine moved the door
as I did, dragging me along with it and partway down the steps. I
tried to hang on, but my fingers weren't strong enough.

Fortunately, Nathan's arms were. The
only reason I didn't fall was because he caught me.

"What happened?" I heard him say.

I mumbled something about how I
couldn't sleep with the nightmares. How the nightmares wouldn't go
away.

He lifted me in his arms and told me he
was taking me to bed. I wanted to laugh, thinking that such a
seduction seemed too sudden, but I contented myself with a smile as
I snuggled closer to his chest. I wanted him to comfort me. To
stay.

I felt the bed beneath me and he tried
to pull away.

No. Not alone again. Please stay.

I reached for him.

As sleep washed over me like a warm
wave, I heard him say he would.

I smiled as I drifted off.

In the dark, the bastard took my
clothes and I was helpless to stop him. I tried to fight him, but
my hands met nothing but air and a pillow. A sweet, soft
pillow
.

I'm home. Safe.

Where's Nathan?

"I'm here, angel, like I promised. It's
okay…" He took my hand in his.

I could barely believe that he'd
stayed. I wanted to kiss him, I was so happy to see him. So
silly.

He rested his head on the pillow beside
me, facing me. "Bad dream?" he asked.

I nodded and he pulled me into a
comforting hug.

Somehow this seemed more intimate than
before. I lay in bed in his arms, safe and secure, and slept.

Part 44

First – Tied – Fingers – Broken – Cut –
Rings – Tom

"Right, where’s the little bitch?" A
new voice startled me. Someone's silhouette stood in the open
doorway.

Groggy from sleep, I rolled out of the
blankets. As I'd slept, Chris had taken his sweater back. Beneath
the blanket, I wore a t-shirt. Chilly, I tried to think fast.

"I heard no one's had you yet and I get
to be first."

I didn't know the man, nor his voice.
Scared of what the new man meant, I flew at the shape, biting,
kicking, punching and scratching.

Déjà vu. Half my face ignited and I
flew part way across the room to land heavily on the floor, the
result of another blow I hadn’t seen. A warm trickle on my cheek
told me he'd cut me. With what? Rings?

I tasted blood and a sudden pain in my
chest told me at least one of my ribs was broken. I struggled to
get up, but the pain of each breath I took slowed me down. His body
crushed mine against the concrete before I could get to my
feet.

I reached behind me, nails out, in the
hope of doing some damage. I raked them down what felt like his arm
before he pinned both of my arms behind my back. He roped my wrists
together and tied them tightly. There'd be no freeing myself this
time. The Swiss Card had stayed in the pocket of my jeans, stolen
by Chris and Mike, along with the rest of my clothes.

"I think you drew blood that time,
little bitch," he said angrily.

"Fuck you," I replied. I tucked my
fingers into fists, so only the middle ones stuck up. "Up yours,
you prick."

He snorted.

I screamed as he methodically broke
both upright fingers. His rings dug into my flesh.

In a haze of pain, I didn’t resist as
he got up off me and turned me onto my back.

It was too dark for me to see his face,
so I spat, "Who the fuck do you think you are?"

He took out a knife, holding it up so
it caught the little light and glinted. It was bigger than the one
I'd held, that Mike took from me. The only knife I'd seen bigger
than this was my chef's knife at home. Or the necropsy labs at
university. Maybe.

I smothered a sob. I had to keep
fighting. Show no fear.

"You can call me Chris," he said,
carelessly slicing the sides and shoulders of my borrowed t shirt
so it fell away from me. The blade was sharp, nicking my skin in
several places, but he didn’t seem to notice in the dark. Or maybe
he did and he'd meant to hurt me.

Now I wore nothing but fear and a few
spots of blood. Oh God, please…no.

He stood back and looked at me for a
few seconds, unzipping his jeans. He took a step closer.

One more, you prick. One more step…and
he took it.

I kicked out at him with both feet
together, but he moved and grabbed my legs, forcing them back down
to the floor, spread wide apart.

"If you think you’re going to…" I began
angrily.

"Fuck you, little bitch." He grunted,
lowering himself to the floor between my legs.

That was the fucking beginning. I won’t
let him live to see the end.

Part 45

After a lot of persuasion, Nathan
managed to talk me into going shopping with him. I'd intended to
use Dad's credit card details to do my grocery shopping online and
make them deliver it all for me, but he reminded me that I had no
cash, no phone, no wallet and no idea what the newspapers had
invented about me overnight. Some things don't get delivered.