Necessary Evil of Nathan Miller (10 page)

He looked confused again. "They picked
what?"

It was my turn to stare. "Queen’s
Bohemian Rhapsody
. You have to know it – it’s a classic."
I’m going to have to sing this one too,
I thought.
At
least this one’s quieter...
I took a deep breath and tried to
be as quiet as possible.

"Is this the real life –

Is this just fantasy –

Caught in a landslide –

No escape from reality –

Open your eyes

Look up at the skies and see –"

Comprehension dawned on his face, but
his eyes were still wide. He seemed unable to think of a single
thing to say. To buy himself time, he lowered his fork toward the
cake plate in front of him.

He’d eaten the last bite of cake,
without realising it. I watched him try to cut another bite with
his fork, but it only scraped the empty plate. He looked down in
surprise.

"Do you think we have time for another
round before the staff upstairs realise I’ve kidnapped you and
decide to report you missing?" He had a cheerful smile on his face,
his eyes already straying to the cafe counter.

Did he realise what he’d said? That he
was responsible for my injuries? I felt the fury build.
If it’s
true, I’m going to kill you, but first, I’m going to kick you under
the table so hard...

I drew my foot back under my chair,
ready to deliver a kick that would help him hit the high notes of
any song – even
Bohemian Rhapsody
.

He looked back at me, still smiling as
he waited for an answer to his question. It took a moment before it
registered in his head what he’d said. His expression slid from
smiling back to horrified and he closed his eyes in
mortification.

"Oh God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean
to..." he babbled.

It was a fucking pick-up line. He’s
fallen for me. He’s fallen for me so hard that when he turned on
the charm, he managed to forget what I look like now and what
happened to me.

I could feel the laughter bubbling up
inside me, as I broke into a grin and carefully placed my feet flat
on the floor.

He opened his eyes again and he was
absolutely transfixed. He seemed unable to stop staring at me, a
battered girl with so many bandages I had to wear surgical scrubs
instead of real clothes. Mr Sleazy Roommate, in love with a
well-wrapped mummy.

I lost it laughing. It felt so good,
after so long. Even my face felt lighter.

I realised that the hospital staff a
few tables over were staring at me, too, looking concerned. I
managed to get control of myself eventually, but Nathan didn’t take
his eyes off me.

I looked down at my lap, willing the
hospital staff to leave me alone.
I’m fine, I’m fine, he just
made a funny joke...

I kept my voice as low as I could. I
told him I’d had enough cake for now and I wanted to go back to my
hospital room.

I heard his voice, talking too fast for
me to understand half of it, as we went back upstairs. It sounded
like he was just letting off pure nervous energy.

To think he charms the nurses as easily
as breathing.

As he was about to help me back into
bed, he paused to take a deep breath and close his eyes before he
touched me. His hands were as careful and decorous as ever, not
even lingering as I half expected him to.
Mr Sleazy Roommate,
the perfect gentleman.

I could feel the smile lifting my lips,
now light as air.

Nathan was looking at me, a question in
his eyes.

What did he ask me? Oh, if I wanted
more cake
. Yet his eyes were offering far more than cake.
Everything. Longing that I'd accept his offer of himself.

I smiled at him.
Two can play at
this game, Nathan, and I’m holding all the cards.

I could have been answering either
question.

"Perhaps, Nathan," I told him, still
smiling. "But not before tomorrow."

He opened his mouth, as if he wanted to
ask which question I was answering, but he couldn’t say the
words.

I tried to sound rueful. "I’ll be sick
if I have any more cake today."
I dare you to ask me the other
question, the one that’s not about cake.

He smiled uncertainly. "Me, too," he
said nervously.

I’ll bet, my queasy roommate.

Part 29

Dark – Mike – Simon – Knife – Fighting
– Police

I woke in the dark, not sure why.

There was no light – just rapid
breathing. Not mine, either.

"Help me. Get me out of here," I said,
hoping it was Chris.

No response.

I held my breath, waiting.

The rapid breathing didn't change. If
anything, it grew faster and louder.

I couldn't see him, only hear his
panting.

"Are you going to hurt me?" I demanded.
I reached into my pocket for the Card, going straight for the
knife.

I felt the bump as his scraping steps
hit the side of the mattress. He gasped in surprise.

Too close. "ARE YOU GOING TO HURT ME?"
I shouted, scrambling up.

Something brushed against my chest,
before fingers grasped at my breast.

I slashed forward with my knife and met
resistance.

"What the fuck? She's free and she has
a knife?" An unfamiliar voice wailed. “She stabbed me! My son’s a
police officer, I’ll have her arrested for attempted murder...”

Behind him, the door flew opened, dim
light framing a bulky shadow.

Part 30

"Cancellation in theatre…"

I blinked and focussed on the woman
hovering above me. Her name badge told me her name was Claire and
she was a CN, if the theatre uniform hadn't told me that
already.

"They've moved your skin graft up to
this morning," Claire the clinical nurse told me, pressing her lips
together. I nodded and she left.

Time to heal some of the scars. This
means I'll be allowed to leave hospital soon, if my skin's healed
enough to start using it for grafts on the bits that haven't…

I both heard and smelled breakfast
approaching. Hunger wasn't hard to ignore, especially if I could
have breakfast vicariously through Nathan. I looked over at him,
hoping he'd chosen bacon and eggs.

"I won't have any," he told the lady
from catering.

"Why not?" I asked, disappointed.

"I don’t want to throw up on the
operating theatre floor," he replied.

But you don't need surgery – just
me.
"You mean you’re coming in with me?" I blurted out. It
still didn't make sense. I knew he'd been a med student, too – and
he wouldn't have lasted past first year if he threw up at the sight
of blood, like Jason did.

Nathan looked shifty. "They'll put you
under…"

Unconscious on an operating table,
alone.
"Fuck." I'd forgotten grafts are done under a general
anaesthetic.

Nathan's warm hand on my wrist brought
me back to the present. "I'll be there. I’ll scrub up and watch
over you as you sleep until your eyes open in Recovery."

He sounds like a perverted
stalker.
I told him so.

He laughed and I joined in, but there
was no humour in mine. I knew he heard it. "You're going to be
fine. I'll make sure of it."

He didn't know how relieved he made me
feel. Nor would he, if I could help it.

Part 31

Nathan’s shouting roused me from my
nightmare. I caught the words, "Leave her alone!" and I realised
the hands gripping my shoulders weren’t his. Then the hands were
gone and I fell back against the bed. The impact jolted the breath
from my lungs.

I struggled to bring my head out of the
dark nightmare and back to the bright hospital room. I took an
inventory as I lay down, trying to orient myself.

There’s the ceiling light, there’s
Nathan to my right, shouting at someone. On my left is the wash
basin, which has two bunches of flowers in it, still wrapped in
florist’s paper.
I looked further along the bed and saw a
worried face I hadn’t seen in a long time – a face I never expected
to see visiting me in hospital.
Jason.

Jason said something, his eyes on me,
but I couldn’t hear him over Nathan’s shouting.

I didn’t expect what happened next,
though maybe I should have. Nathan took a swing at Jason and his
fist connected with Jason’s jaw. Jason’s response was to ball up
his fists and aim a punch at Nathan.
His face, his hands. That's
my fucking lead guitarist and vocalist. NO!

In my head, the dark nightmare I’d been
woken from was happening again in this brightly lit room. I shook
myself, gritted my teeth and fought not to scream at the pain as I
stood up.
This will end, or so help me, I will stick you both in
a head lock as long as I can stay conscious.

Step after agonising step, I crossed
the room and shoved between them. I was so close to Nathan, his
shirt brushed my back, but I faced Jason.
Nathan won’t hurt me,
but for Jason to lose control like this, who knew what he would
do?

Jason’s fists stayed up, as if he was
going to hurt me, or at least push me out of the way to get to
Nathan.

"Don’t you dare touch me." I don’t
think I’d ever been this angry with Jason.

His hands flew up in surrender as he
backed away.
His fingers look intact; his face will bruise, but
there’s probably no harm done.
I kept my glare on him for a few
more moments.

"I want nothing to do with either of
you if you’re going to fight like animals!" I shouted at Jason.

He turned pale, suddenly horrified as
he saw his future job prospects, all of our future plans,
destroyed.
Finally, he understands.

"Caitlin, careful...you’ll tear your
stitches," I heard Nathan’s voice murmur behind me.

I took a deep breath, relaxing the iron
control for just a moment, and looked down. He was too late – one
of the wounds on my leg was bleeding, so I’d already ripped the
stitches. I started to crumple as the pain came flooding in, with
the realisation that Nathan was behind me, trying to support
me.

You started this. You have no idea what
you almost did.

"Get your hands off me!" I shouted at
Nathan over my shoulder.

"No." His voice was a barely audible
whisper in my ear.

I’d rather fall flat on my face now
than let you touch me with the hand that threw the first punch.
In my fury, I tried to turn on my heel to face Nathan. I wanted to
give him an earful, too. Yet as I started to shift my weight, pain
and dizziness overwhelmed me. Strong arms lifted me as Nathan’s
voice murmured soothingly in my ear.

My eyes tightly closed, I fought to
hold onto consciousness, without the use of even my fingernails to
claw my way out of the threatening dark.

I needed to reassure Jason, to tell him
that everything would be okay. I forced my eyes open to find the
room still drained of colour.
Stay down.
Don’t get up
'til the colours come back or you’ll pass out.

"Jason." I fought to get the words out.
"Something else scared me and I was just shocked to be woken up." I
stretched out my hand to him, trying and failing to wiggle my
fingers as a silent reminder of what he'd risked. Too late did I
realise that else I was showing him.

He stared at my bandaged hand and the
fingers I couldn’t move, let alone play with. "Oh my God, what did
they do to you?"
Dreams, career, plans, gone.
I could see it
in his eyes. He bolted before I could say anything.

I called after him, but he didn’t stop,
nor return. He didn’t let me tell him that I would be okay, that
I'd recover and everything would go back to normal.

What if they had taken everything
from me, even my music? What if my hands were so badly damaged they
wouldn’t heal?
I could feel my eyes filling with tears and
forced myself to think of other things.
No need for self-pity.
Why was he here, when I knew he threw up at the sight of blood? Why
were there flowers in the sink?

I didn’t realise the answer until
Nathan stood at my side again, holding the larger bunch of flowers
as a peace offering in front of him. "Happy birthday," he said
apologetically.

Today I was legally old enough to drink
and the only alcohol I’d see was some form of disinfectant
. I
wonder if you can drink the alcohol handwash?
I buried my face
in my pillow, laughing hysterically ‘til I cried. A normal girl
would have just cried, but I was no longer normal, by any stretch
of the imagination.

Part 32

Mike – Simon – Knife – Fighting

"No. She can't have a knife. Chris
searched her…" Mike's voice said from the doorway. He moved into
the darkness, toward me.

"Stay away from me!" I insisted, waving
the tiny blade.

A torch beam blinded my eyes, gleaming
on the knife.

"She has a knife!" the smaller man
shrieked, pointing.

"I'll kill him," Mike swore, striding
over to me.

I brandished the knife, lifting it
toward his eyes. "Either of you touch me again and I'll cut your
fucking dick off!"

I didn't see the blow that crashed into
the side of my face, sending me flying. I hit the concrete
blindingly hard and heard the knife skitter away from me.

"I'll do what I fucking well like,"
Mike answered.

I couldn't see. My face ached and my
eyes blurred with tears. I wondered if my jaw was broken.

I heard the scrape of metal on stone.
"There, got it," Mike said. A hand closed around my throat. I could
see the knife wavering above my face. "Where did you get this,
little bitch?"

"I had it in my pocket," I spat. "I've
got a bigger one for killing you in the other pocket. Don't need a
big knife to cut off your prick."

Mike threw me back down on the floor.
"She's all yours."