Heller's Punishment (26 page)

“Didn’t you
check their credit details when you took them on?” I asked him.
“They couldn’t lie about their financials, surely.”

“That man paid
me in cash.”

Instant fury
surged inside me. “
What?
Heller! You didn’t check out a
client? What about my safety?”

“I was so angry
with you that I couldn’t think straight, Matilda. That’s my only
excuse. There’s none other,” he replied softly.

“They were
going to
sacrifice
me, Heller. I trust you to make sure I’m
safe at work. Are you going jeopardise my safety every time you’re
angry with me? How will I ever know that I’m going to come home
from an assignment alive? Do you know what it’s like in a hot box?
Do you know what it’s like knowing that people don’t care if you
die? That they’re willing for you to die? You drove off and left me
with them!”

And then I did
break down and cried and cried. He pulled over to the side of the
road and got out, helping me gently out of my seat, propping me up
against the vehicle. He let me cry, holding me closely. Eventually
I petered out with exhaustion, wiping my eyes on my dirty
sleeves.

“I’m sorry. I’m
so tired. I haven’t slept properly for weeks.”

“I know, my
sweet. Tonight you will be safe, I promise.”

We climbed back
into the 4WD and drove off again. I felt for poor Farrell, probably
very uncomfortable unwillingly witnessing our domestic dispute.

Heller changed
the subject. “So Matilda, you and Simon?”

My smile was
watery and unhappy, but I let myself be distracted. “Yes Heller, me
and Simon. A long time ago. He was my first boyfriend.” I paused a
beat. “My first lover. I was crazy about him, but he dumped me to
join a religious cult.” I shrugged. “End of story. Hadn’t heard
from him since, so it was a huge surprise to find him as one of the
Farmers. A nice surprise.”

There was
silence in the vehicle after I spoke. I wasn’t sure what either man
was thinking. To take the attention away from me, I turned to
Heller. “Do you remember your first lover?”

“I know you
think I’ve slept with so many women I can’t remember them, but I do
remember that one. I was very young, just turned eleven, but was
tall, big and . . . mature, even then. I probably looked older, not
that that’s any excuse. I was staying at a school friend’s house
overnight. Well, he wasn’t really a friend, more an acquaintance. I
didn’t really have friends. Anyway, he became ill and went to bed
early, leaving me alone with his mother.”

His mouth
twisted into something that wasn’t even close to a smile. “She was
divorced, so there was no man around the house. She gave me alcohol
and seduced me. Several times that night. She told me that I was
the most beautiful boy she’d ever seen, that she’d been desperately
in love with me for over a year. That she’d pushed her own son into
being a reluctant acquaintance just to have a reason to invite me
over. She said she wanted me badly, hungered for me. I didn’t even
know what she meant, but I could see she was in the grip of some
strong emotions and it all had something to do with the way I
looked. And that made me feel powerful. That woman robbed me of my
childhood, but gave me something much more valuable in return –
self-awareness. That was the first time I realised the effect my
looks have on other people, on women.”

I hardly dared
to breathe listening to him. He’d never talked before about his
supernaturally good looks and his apparent indifference to other
people’s reactions to them. I guess he’d just grown used to it,
only using them now to benefit his business.

He shot me a
sideways glance. “Well, most women anyway. After that experience, I
slept around as much as I could, even at that age. I turned into a
wild teenager, totally out of control. I didn’t care who I slept
with and broke up marriages, engagements, families. I ran into a
lot of trouble with husbands and fathers and boyfriends and learned
how to fight, then realised how much I loved fighting, how good I
was at it. I hurt a lot of people in a lot of different ways. I was
angry about so many things. And my parents . . . my mother . . .
Well, anyway, I was recruited when I was fifteen, left home and
only returned home once. And that was the best outcome for
everyone.”

I listened to
him with growing excitement. It was the most information that
Heller had ever shared about his life. Wow, he actually had a
mother! I hadn’t even been certain about
that
before.

“Recruited into
the army?” Farrell guessed from the back.

“I had a
military career,” Heller confirmed, without providing any further
detail.

“Fifteen’s
young to be recruited.”

“It was a
specialised unit where training from a young age was an . . .
advantage.”

“Special
forces?” asked Farrell, an ex-SAS man himself.

He was
deliberately vague. “Something like that.”

Farrell nodded,
knowing he wasn’t going to receive any more information, but
seemingly pleased to have his suspicions verified. I leaned back on
the seat and mentally reviewed what I’d learnt tonight. Heller had
been in some special force in the military, he had a mother, he’d
lost his virginity at eleven, and had been a promiscuous scrapper
as a teenager. Hmm, not much more than I knew before. I probably
could have guessed all that myself anyway, if I’d thought about it.
And Sid had already told me that Heller was still screwing around
and picking fights in his twenties when they’d first met. But why
had he left his own country? And what had he been going to say
about his parents? Why did he go home again that one time? And
would I ever know more about him, like his real name? It was all
giving me a headache.

“Eleven is so
young, Heller. That’s just wrong,” I protested. “It’s criminal. You
should have told someone, one of your parents.”

“That wasn’t an
option,” he said flatly, leaving me with more questions, but in no
doubt that he wouldn’t discuss it any further. He’d shared as much
as he cared to share, and I had no choice but to accept that.

Chastened, I
turned to the back seat. “What about you, Hugh? Do you remember
your first lover?”

“Of course I
do, Chalmers. I was about sixteen. She was the girl I’d dreamed
about all through high school and had a huge crush on for years.
Cathy Malone. She never even noticed me. But one night we were both
at a party. She’d recently broken up with her long-time boyfriend
and he was also at the party with his new girlfriend, getting all
hot and heavy in front of everyone. She became very jealous, drank
too much, and decided to try to make him jealous by coming on to
me. I didn’t know all this at the time though, I just thought all
my dreams had come true. Anyway, we ended up in a bedroom together,
and I lost my virginity to her. I thought that was it; that we were
now going out. But when I approached her a couple of days later,
she didn’t remember anything about that night before, denied
everything and treated me as if I was some kind of pervert. So
yeah, Chalmers, I remember my first, but she doesn’t remember
me.”

“Oh Hugh, what
a tragic story,” I teased, and turned around to smile at him.

He gave a huge
‘that’s life’ shrug and a rueful smile. “Story of my life.”

We pulled into
a petrol station/all-night burger bar to buy some refreshments. I
would have stayed in the vehicle, too embarrassed by my ugly dress
and scruffiness to be seen in public, but nature was calling. In
the ladies I tried to repair the damage using the cracked and
spotted mirror and trickle of water from the basin. It was no good
and I only ended up turning the dust and dirt on my face into muddy
streaks. If anything, I looked even worse by the end.

Heller raised
his eyebrows when he set sight on me, but silently handed over a
coffee, a sandwich and a protein bar, all of which I gobbled and
slurped greedily. I hadn’t realised how hungry I was. No more
Indeterminate Stew for me! I hoped Simon plucked up the courage to
retire The Farm’s cook.

I wanted to
hear all about how Heller had mobilised with the cops and
approached the compound, but a full belly and the gentle motion of
the drive lulled me to sleep, slouched against the door. My dreams
were unsettling, full of explosions, gunfire and men running
around, shouting and fighting. I woke up suddenly, sitting upright,
looking around me, expecting to be in the shed with Simon, sleeping
on the scratchy hay.

“Where am I?” I
murmured in panic, and was immediately reassured by Heller’s warm
hand clasping mine.

“You’re safe,
Matilda. We’re nearly home. Thirty more minutes.”

I fell back
into an uneasy doze, only jolting away again when we drove down
into the Warehouse garage.

I was surprised
and moved to see the crowd of men waiting to greet me, despite the
very early hour. I’d thought that Heller had brought the whole
office with him to The Farm, but he’d obviously left some behind to
keep his business ticking over.

I jumped out of
the vehicle, straight into a group hug with Daniel and Niq. They
kissed me and teased me about my unattractive dress and unkempt
appearance, simultaneously talking loudly and swiftly, each trying
to tell me what had happened since I’d left. I turned from one to
the other, adept at taking in the dual conversation, having twin
cousins who did the same thing.

“Stop it,
Daniel and Niq,” Heller ordered imperiously. “Matilda needs to
sleep. You can talk to her tomorrow.” And they had to be satisfied
with that.

I slapped a
multitude of the men’s hands on my way to the stairs, putting up
with a lot of good-natured ribbing about my appearance. The first
thing I did in Heller’s flat was dig up some of my pyjamas and hit
the shower. I stood under the hot blast of water, washing all the
muck and dirt off me. And by the time I’d finished, I felt squeaky
clean and cleansed of all traces of The Farm, the final step being
to wad up the dress and throw it in the bin, along with the
sandals.

I climbed into
his bed and fell asleep immediately, luxuriating in the soft cotton
sheets and peaceful surroundings, safe in his arms. My last thought
before I gave into sleep was about Simon, not Heller. I wondered
what Simon was doing and if he’d managed to settle the rest of the
Farmers. At least the dorm hadn’t been destroyed.

I woke up a few
times, sitting up, my heart pounding and fear in my eyes as I
relived the hot box and the explosions. Every time, Heller was
there for me, soothing me back to sleep with his soft kisses and
his tender words, half-English, half his native language, whatever
that was.

When I finally
roused in the morning, it was very late, almost lunchtime. I was by
myself in bed, and stumbled to the bathroom to splash cold water on
my face. I examined myself critically in the mirror and decided
that I looked bloody awful, deep lines under my eyes, my face too
thin and sharp. I jogged down to my flat, drinking in the
tranquillity. I dressed casually in jeans and t-shirt and went down
to the office to check my email, noticing that my jeans were now
swimming on me. Nobody was around, probably everyone had wandered
off for lunch.

After three
weeks away from the computer, I would have a load of spam from
family and friends, let alone the usual culprits. There were so
many emails in my inbox that I wanted to give up, but I patiently
waded through them, deleting the bulk, responding to a few.

Dixie had sent
me three pornographic photos, all of different men, so I had a
furtive perv before deleting them. She’d obviously not missed me
too much during my absence. My twin cousins had sent me a couple of
emails from London, each one sending theirs within minutes of the
other one. They did lots of weird twinny things like that.

With that chore
done, I turned my attention to the in-tray on my desk,
conscientiously reading the security legislation update memos. The
last piece of mail was a silver envelope addressed to me in
unfamiliar writing. Curiously I opened it and sat staring at an
invitation to Will’s wedding, to be held in a month’s time. It must
have been sitting there since I’d been gone, because the RSVP date
was today.

“What’s the
matter, Matilda?” asked Heller as he entered the office.

“Do you want to
go to a wedding with me?” I asked, handing the invitation to him to
read.

“I have
forbidden you from seeing that man any more.”

“Don’t start on
that again, Heller,” I warned. “This is his wedding. What do you
think I’m going to do? Fuck him out the back of the church while
everyone’s waiting for him? Stop insulting me.” And yes, I was
deliberately crude, knowing how little he cared for bad language.
It worked, his lips compressing with anger.

We were quickly
slipping back into dangerous territory.

“Why would you
put yourself through watching him marry another woman?”

My tone and the
tilt of my chin were both defiant. “To prove to him that I don’t
care.”

He sat on the
corner of my desk and crossed his arms, his eyes intent. “But do
you care?”

I sighed. “I
don’t know, Heller. How will I know until I go and watch?”

He stood and
walked to his office. “I hate that man.”

“So that’s a no
from you then?” I called out after him, receiving nothing but stony
silence in response.

Daniel walked
in, holding a sandwich. I hit him with my most dazzling smile.
“Hello, my darling Danny. Did I tell you how much I missed you when
I was away? And by the way, you look wonderful today. Is that a new
shirt? It really suits you.”

He eyeballed me
suspiciously. “What do you want, Tilly?”

“Do you want to
come to Will’s wedding with me?”

“No way! I
think you should stay a million miles away from him.”