Necessary Evil of Nathan Miller (29 page)

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Authors: Demelza Carlton

Tags: #horror suspense thriller, #dark romance, #kidnapping abduction and abuse, #nightmares and insomnia, #post traumatic stress disorder ptsd recovery, #recovering after rape, #revenge and justice, #western australian drama and suspense

BOOK: Necessary Evil of Nathan Miller
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From the shadows, I could see the
wedding party outside, taking photographs on the steps. Movement on
the footpath drew my attention and I moved into the foyer for a
closer look.

Nathan scanned the wedding guests, as
if looking for me. The anguish on his face told me more than
anything else he could say. He'd made his decision and he was going
to hurt me for the first time. I froze, not wanting to move. I
wanted to remain in the dark and not know the truth, if only for a
few moments more.

He stepped inside, from daylight to
darkness, and he didn't seem to see me standing at his side. I
reached for his hand, hoping it wouldn't be the last time. He
pulled back, as if the contact was unwelcome, splashing his hand
into the holy water font. I helped him cross himself with the
water, babbling about baptism and other things I'd learned in
religious education at school. I wasn't sure I believed in any
religion any more. Not my mother's Islam, nor Dad's
Catholicism.

Feeling shaky already, I made some
excuse to lead Nathan deeper into the church so I could sit down.
Years of Catholic schooling had trained me well, though, and I
dropped to my knees instead of sitting in the pew. Once down, I
didn't want to rise. Eventually, my babbling died as I ran
down.

I glanced at Jason. He bowed his head
as if in prayer, letting his long hair fall forward to hide the
gleeful smile on his face. His hair was longer than mine. He looked
like a ranger out of a Tolkien novel, instead of my sleazy lead
singer.

Fuck off
, I mouthed at him. This
conversation was hard enough without an audience.

Ceremoniously, he ascended from his
genuflection to march down the aisle, piously keeping his eyes on
the stained glass behind the altar. I didn't say a word until he'd
closed the door of the confessional behind him.

Now alone with Nathan, I still couldn't
bring myself to ask him – and start the conversation I dreaded
would end in
goodbye.

Once more, Nathan came to my
rescue.

"Caitlin, I’m so sorry."

I turned to see he knelt beside me.
"Chris…" I hadn't said the name aloud since that night in the
toilet, but it held more meaning than any name should. I summoned
all my courage. I needed to know. "Why did you do it, Nathan?"

"It was my job to watch them kidnap
someone and get out with the witness. But I didn’t – couldn’t –
didn’t
know what they’d done to you until that night on the
beach. Then it was too late. I’d let them hurt you like that and I
hadn’t done a thing to stop them."

It was his job. He did it to protect
his sister. He wasn't a bad person – he'd simply been ordered to
let fucked-up things happen. But how far did orders go?

"Why did you kill him?" I asked next.
Was that orders, too? Or was that when you decided to try and
make up for what you'd done?
I pressed my lips together so I
didn't ask the other burning questions.

"I thought it was for Alanna, or even
for me. Maybe it was for you. I...just...couldn’t let him
live...knowing...what he did…and what I didn’t. How I’d
failed."

You ended it for me and for your own
conscience.
Now for the general knowledge question. We both
know the answer, but are you the super-sleazy interrogator or the
honest man I trust?
"Why me, Nathan? Why did they choose
me?"

"I couldn’t take my eyes off you," he
whispered as he stared at the floor. "I couldn’t stop them." He
swayed, as if he was trying to rock away his pain.

I pitied him. I'd seen his anguish
before, but it was worse now that he knew everything I'd been
through. I never should have given him the account of what they did
to me.

"You helped me recover from it. You
even saved my life. Maybe one day…" I thought of the happy couple
I'd seen earlier and hoped he couldn't see my blush. I tried to say
something else, but I couldn't think of anything. "I’ll be able
to…I…forgive you for it."
There. I said it. Absolution, Nathan.
Don't feel guilty about me. You've paid for your sins against me
and I forgive you. Now you can go and further your career like you
want to without feeling you owe me anything, any more. Oh fuck, now
I'm going to cry…

I lurched to my feet and ran out of the
church, furiously blinking the tears away.

I heard his footsteps behind me, but I
didn't stop until I was certain I had my eyes under control.

"I’m sorry. I’m so sorry."

I knew he'd take the job.
Even if he
does care for me, he won't put his life on hold for me any more. I
remind him too much of what he regrets. And when does he ever pay
attention to his own health? It's not like he's even mentioned the
nightmares to me.

I looked up at him and permitted myself
one last indulgence.
I may never get to do this again. After
today, I'll probably never see you again.
I kissed him. The
passion in that one kiss was more powerful than any I'd witnessed
during the wedding this afternoon, but our only witness was Jason,
rapidly walking away because he didn't want to watch.

I broke the kiss, forcing myself to
step back. "Goodbye, Nathan." I turned and drove my feet away from
him.

"I love you, Caitlin." His voice held
desperation.

But not enough to stay with me.
"I know." My voice died to a whisper and I couldn't turn to face
him. "Under better circumstances, I think I could have loved you,
too."
Liar. It doesn't matter what he's done. I love him and I
wanted him to choose me. To fight for me, one more time.

I forced myself to keep walking, every
step a necessary effort. Tears streamed down my cheeks, but I
didn’t dare stop. I made it to the side door of the pub before I
gave in to them properly, sobbing my heart out for a few minutes
where no one could see me. I couldn't face Jason right now.

Jo and Jason are waiting. It’s time
to go back to work,
I told myself, straightening up and wiping
the tears away with my hands. I slipped into the toilets out the
back to wash and dry my face, hoping I looked normal. I locked
myself in a toilet cubicle to get changed. I slid the white dress
down to puddle at my feet and pulled on the tightly fitted black
dress that I reminded myself was a work uniform. I kept the knife
sheathed at my thigh, within easy reach yet still hidden from view.
The boots were next – something Jo had gloatingly called New Rocks,
all black leather and metal. Then I slid on the feathered black
wings Jo had bought me in a costume store. The angel of death
indeed.

I washed and dried my face again, just
in case, and put on enough eye makeup to masquerade as a panda.
Real cute, but one swipe and I’ll take your head off.
I
carefully painted my lips the colour of venous blood. The effect
was dark and disturbing. The girl in the mirror looked like a
stranger to me. I smiled and my reflection looked sinister, like
she was planning to kill me slowly or take off with the contents of
my bank account.

Or tell the man who’d saved her life
and killed for her that he didn't deserve her, so she could walk
away from his rejection with her dignity intact. As if he hadn't
smashed her heart.

The smile vanished. I stuffed my other
clothes and makeup into my bag quickly, before I left the toilets
and went in the pub’s back door.

As I crossed the half-full pub, there
was no sign of recognition from the beer-sipping denizens. Who
would mistake the innocent little victim they’d seen on TV for the
vengeful dark angel stalking across the room?

No one.

Jason had set up the equipment already
when I reached the stage. He looked relieved to see me, his easy
smile lifting his lips. "Damn, you look like the angel of death.
You can fuck me to death any night you want to name."

"Fuck off, Jason. Find yourself a
fangirl to fondle you after the gig."

"Caitlin." He grabbed my arm, his voice
low and urgent. "I'd be good to you. I'd show you a heaps better
time than that crazy perverted prick. He was a necessary evil while
you were recovering, but now I…" He stopped when he felt the cold,
hard blade against his balls.

"…don't need your balls to sing?" I
asked sweetly. "Just think of all the high notes you'll hit if you
EVER touch me without my permission again. Or if you ever say
another word about Nathan. As far as I'm concerned, the necessary
evil in my life is you, for the duration of this recording
contract." I hid the blade with my sleeve as I tucked it away
again. He didn't need to know that he'd only felt the sheath and
not the blade itself. "You won't be the first bloke I've castrated,
either. And I sleep with that knife. Do your job and you can have
all the fangirls you like afterwards."

His eyes widened in something like
fear.
Perhaps the gothic makeup had its uses, after all. Or
maybe it's Laura's knife. My knife now.

"Let’s kick off with a cover of
Nobody Sees.
The duet we practiced," I told him.

I sat behind the keyboard as he started
with just his guitar, his solo of the first verse.

It was Jason’s voice I heard, but my
thoughts were of Nathan. My heart felt shattered at the thought of
what I’d said and done today, however necessary.

I closed my eyes as I started singing
the second verse.

"…Who's gonna be there at the end?"

It’s over.
I heard the words he
spoke in my memory as I realised it was over. This was the end of
it. My voice failed and Jason sang the chorus alone.

He repeated it, drawing it out to give
me a minute to get it together. I shook my head, put the pain into
my voice and I found it helped.


Nobody knows just
how it feels today


Nobody sees how our
hearts break


Who's gonna...FALL
DOWN at your feet?”

He repeated the line until I remembered
I was supposed to stand up. The final time he dropped to his knees
in front of me, just vocals with no guitar for the last chorus.


Nobody knows just
how it feels today


Nobody sees how our
hearts break.”

I looked down at Jason for a second,
before he stood up again and launched into another Powderfinger
song, the upbeat one that we always followed this with.

Jo sat at her drums, smiling
encouragingly at me. I hadn’t seen her there until she started
playing.

Nobody sees our hearts break. Damn
right.
I returned her smile.

This'd be our last gig in Fremantle.
Next week we’d fly back to Melbourne and hope something would come
out of the new contract.

Jo and Jason launched into Necessary
Evil and I allowed myself to smile. I wasn’t going to lose it on
this one – I’d sing it the whole way through, my heart in every
note.

For Nathan. For me. For the necessary
evil and my hope that one day I'd truly be free.

Part 86

I found the papers in my bag the next
morning, under the clothes I’d stuffed into it when I got changed
for the gig.

The writing on the first page was
Nathan’s and it was rough.

I started writing down my nightmares,
too. I thought you should know.

The pages beneath were all word
processed, a printout of something he’d typed. I sat down and read
it.

Normal nightmares are never this clear
and constant. I only close my eyes and I’m there again, so real
it’s heartbreaking. And I can never change what happens, no matter
how much I want to.

Mike found me first. "Here," he said as
he threw something to me.

I caught it without thinking. I
recognised the keys to my car and looked at him, wanting to ask why
he'd given me the keys back, when I was on my way to see her.

"You'll need the car to dump the body
when you're done with her. One more fuck and you'll wear her out."
He grinned. "Don't let that stop you. She's better alive than
dead."

I didn't bother to reply.

It was late at night and without the
moon it would've been pitch-black outside the house. I wondered if
she was awake yet. I walked faster through the bush than usual,
taking the steps into the old underground bunker two at a time. I
crossed what I thought was the weapon storage room and slowly
opened the door to the sleep quarters, not bothering to shut it
behind me.

I could hear her laboured breathing,
telling me where she was, but I couldn’t see her in the gloom. My
toes brushed something and I fell to my knees, feeling for her with
my hands. My hands touched bare skin – she was so cold! She moaned
at my touch, then started coughing.

I tried to find her a blanket in the
dark, but I couldn’t. Even the mattress was gone. While she still
slept, I wanted to go get her another blanket from the house. Maybe
a quilt, too, I decided. After all, it wasn’t like I couldn’t spare
mine.

Quickly and quietly, I made my way back
to the house, grabbed the quilt, then headed to the cupboard where
the extra blankets were kept. I bundled the quilt into my arms and
grabbed the top two blankets.

I detoured by the kitchen on the way
back, switching on the light. I opened the fridge and wished I'd
asked them to pick up some extra food for Caitlin. I grabbed a can
of Coke from the box on the bench and raised my hand to turn off
the light.

There was a smear of blood on the light
switch. I looked down, to see two bloody handprints on my quilt. I
turned my hands over, dreading what I knew I'd find.

Traces of her blood stained my
hands.

NOOOO! I screamed in my head, knowing
that my mouth was open, but I couldn’t make a sound. Can’t let her
die. Have to help her. To hell with everything else.

I shoved the Coke in my pocket,
tightening my arms around the blankets and quilt. I ran all the way
back to her.

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