Nightmares of Caitlin Lockyer (Nightmares Trilogy) (20 page)

The police officer stared at me, not saying a word, though he evidently wanted to say a few things. I dropped the ruined underwear back in the drawer.

Caitlin backed away from the wardrobe and sat down heavily on the bed, taking stock of the destroyed clothing strewn across it. I stumbled through the clothes on the floor to the passage outside and made it to the bathroom. In my mind's eye, I saw the drawer full of shredded lace and wondered why they'd come in and shred her clothes, but leave before she came home.

The silent police officer stood in the open bathroom doorway. He moved aside when I approached.

My eyes went to the floor of the bathroom first, but the only clothes were the pyjamas Caitlin had left there this morning when she'd taken a shower. They looked untouched.

I closed my eyes and splashed water on my face, grabbing a towel to dry myself where I stood. So I was standing in front of the mirror when I opened my eyes to see my reflection
was obscured by lipstick smeared across the reflective surface – four words in bright red capitals:

FUCK YOU

LITTLE BITCH

What remained of the lipstick was on the bench beside the basin, next to a box of Caitlin's makeup that I'd never seen her use. The lipstick looked like the one she'd worn only last night. When it had graced her lips, it'd reminded me of strawberries.
Scrawled across her mirror, now it looked more like blood.

When I turned to meet the eyes of the silent police officer, I was more confused than ever.

The bastards who hurt Caitlin weren't likely to cut up her clothes and make a mess of her bathroom mirror. Any message they'd have for her would be vocal, physical and brutal. Any red marks left in the house would have been drawn in her blood.

The officer looked grim. "There's a woman out there who really hates your girlfriend. She should watch out."

A woman? Who hated her more than those bastards? I found that hard to imagine, until I remembered.

When his wife heard what had happened to him, she was very distraught. Her name was Laura.

The dead bastard had a wife.

I wonder if she knew what he was really doing.

She was little and pretty, with short dark hair.

The woman driver, who spoke to Caitlin before she hit her and pushed her into the car, had short dark hair.

What if the bastard's wife not only knew what he was doing, but she'd helped him? She'd be pretty pissed off, especially if she thought Caitlin had killed her husband.

I stared at the police officer in horror for a moment, before pushing past him to hurry back to Caitlin. I stood in the doorway of her room, hesitating.

She still sat on the bed, not touching any of the clothes. She'd clenched her hands into fists and her teeth bit so deep into her lip I hoped she wasn't bleeding. She was fighting so hard not to cry, with Officer David with-the-impossible-last-name's eyes on her.

She didn't trust police officers, not after one of them shot her.

Oh, shit. I'd left her alone with one.

He left the room as I entered it, murmuring something about filing a report and how he'd be in contact soon. He handed me a slip of paper, telling me it was for insurance. Caitlin nodded numbly.

I shoved the damaged clothes into a pile on one side of the bed, away from her, and sat beside her in the space I'd made. I cautiously slid my arm around her shoulders and tried to pull her closer, but she wouldn't budge.

"We'll get you an alarm system and security guards." I told her, dropping my voice to a whisper. "I won't let her hurt you."

Still she sat ramrod straight, her whole body tense, and I wondered if she was going to push me away, or even hit me. She seemed angry enough to do anything, even if it would hurt her later when she calmed down.

Shit, I was worried that she was going to hit me, not because I might get hurt, but because she might hurt her hand and need an ice pack. I suddenly remembered the knife she'd held in the car. Had she left it there? Where were the knife and scissors? I looked around the bed for them, but I couldn't see them. On the edge of panic, I tried to pull her toward me again.

"I won't let them hurt you," I promised her again. "I'll even take you shopping to buy more clothes to replace these."

She looked at me, her eyes filling with tears. Her hand groped for something behind me – I prayed that it wasn't something sharp – before her tears spilled over.

What would the woman who did this to an entire wardrobe of clothes do to Caitlin if she got her hands on her? I realised
suddenly, my arms tightening protectively around Caitlin. Nothing. NOTHING. I wouldn't let her.

Her tears were short-lived this time. It seemed only a couple of minutes before Caitlin sat up again, something still clenched in her right hand.

She wiped at her eyes with her free hand, sniffling. "Did she get to the dirty clothes in the laundry?"

I thought about the untouched pyjamas on the bathroom floor. "I don't know, but I doubt it."

She stood up, a little shakily. "Then I better go do some washing, before I get a rubbish bag for all this."

As she walked away with small, careful steps, leaning against the walls and furniture where she could, I noticed her hands were empty.

I watched her until she was out of sight down the passage, before I looked to see what she'd been so quick to grab and keep hidden from me. On the clear patch of the bed where she'd been sitting was a crumpled ball of shredded black satin and lace. I smoothed out the remains of the slashed g-string and felt my face grow hot.

Oh God, I just agreed to take her shopping for sexy underwear.

Don't think about it. Make some phone calls. Check with whoever's on surveillance to see if it was Laura.

Keep her safe 'til tomorrow and then worry about how
I'd manage to go underwear shopping with her without being a blind eunuch with a preference for guys. Fuck...

Knocked out or just asleep?

Still dark.

Chris. The only name they gave me.

Tied up, restraining wrists and ankles.

Someone else here?

Water. Sipping slowly, swallowing painfully.

Let me go! Help me, you bastard.

Give me a weapon so I can hurt them, kill them.

No.

Tears.

Pills.

Hurt?

Hell yes.

A sip, a swallow.

Silence.

Won't let them win.

"Please... don't let them..."

Fuck.
Another one.

The nightmares had started maybe an hour after Caitlin had fallen asleep and this was the third time tonight. Hell, it wasn't even midnight yet.

"I'm here. I won't let them hurt you," I murmured. I smoothed my pyjamas, making sure they covered as much of me as possible. I had to be so careful. If it weren't for Caitlin, I wouldn't even own pyjamas.

She owned very little in the way of clothing, now – in the end, I'd had to bag up all her ruined clothes before putting them in the rubbish bin. Caitlin's tears had been more than I could take. Her wardrobe was as bare as one in a hotel room – no, more than that. Even hotel wardrobes had bathrobes. Hers was sliced into so many pieces I'd had to vacuum some of them up.

I moved closer to Caitlin, every movement controlled as I pulled her into a hug. "It's okay. They're not here. It's over now, just a dream..."

I felt her relax. "Nathan?"

"That's right. Just us here, no one else. You're safe at home." I loosened my hold on her.

"I
... they... ."

"I know.
Just a dream. It's okay." I took a breath and let it out slowly as I let go of her. "Try to get back to sleep, okay?"

"Okay
..." The bed springs crunched lightly as they compressed under her shifting weight.

I sighed and shifted so my head was back on my own pillow. Th
e clock read 11:46. I wondered how long it would be before the next nightmare as I slid into sleep.

"Let me go, you bastard!"

1:03. Oh, shit, it was this one. Don't touch her 'til she's awake.

"No one but you and I here, angel.
No one's got you. They can't hurt you any more." I spoke at normal volume, hoping to wake her with only my voice. I didn't want her clawing at my face again.

"I said, let me go, loser!" Her voice rose.

Fuck. The neighbours were going to hear this one if I didn't wake her up soon.

I touched her shoulder lightly. "Caitlin,
it's Nathan. You're safe. I swear, you're safe..."

She turned on me and I felt her nails rake my cheek as I pulled away too slowly. I caught her hands in mine, as carefully as I could. She dug her nails into my palm.

"Let me go," she insisted, trying to pull her hands out of my grasp.

"Wake up, angel. No one's hurting you – least of all me. Come on, you know who I am
..." I shifted away from her, letting go of her hands. "Just another nightmare, Caitlin." My heart ached for her as I touched my hand to my cheek, relieved to find I wasn't bleeding, though that also meant she wasn't strong enough yet. Almost...

A gasp and a sob.
"Nathan? Please..."

Thank God.
I moved quickly to her side again and held out my arms to her. She burrowed her face into the buttons on my chest and I felt the thin cotton soak through with her tears.

"Wouldn't help me.
So much pain and no help... bastard." I heard the words that were muffled by my pyjamas.

I sighed in relief. "I'm here now and I'm helping you. No one's going to hurt you again, I swear.
Definitely not her."

Caitlin pulled away, sniffling. She stretched out, resting her head on her pillow again. "Sorry. Thanks, Nathan."

I was slower to relax back into repose. My cheek stung, but my eyes still closed.

"Who do you think you are?" Her angry voice woke me again. I prayed that the dream wouldn't go any further.

"Took my clothes..." she wailed.

Fuck. I opened my eyes. 2:
14. Here we go again. No sleep for the wicked, or the rest of us, either.

"Hello?" Caitlin's voice said softly behind the curtain.

"I'm here," I answered from the chair outside, beside a rack of stringy satin and lace. If I didn't look too closely at the lingerie beside me, didn't think about how little Caitlin was wearing and firmly focussed on the memory of her broken fingers covered in blood on the beach, I could almost keep it together.

She stuck her head out, clutching at the curtain so it didn't reveal anything I really didn't need to see, except her bare shoulder. "Is the shop assistant there? I need help and I don't know how much longer I can stand up..." She swallowed, looking worried. The dark circles under her eyes only served to make them look bigger and sadder.

I crossed to the entrance of the change rooms and looked. The music over the shop speakers was a lot louder out here, but it didn't improve the perky pop song any. The teenage sales assistant was busy with a couple of giggling teenage customers, so she ignored my frantic waving. Maybe she just didn't hear me over the loud music. I headed back in to Caitlin.

Grabbing the chair I'd been sitting in, I said, "She's busy. I can help, if you like." I held out the chair, so its outline took shape through the curtain. "First, you should sit down." I slid it through the gap, closing my eyes until I felt her take the chair from me.

"Thank you," Caitlin replied. She took a deep breath, like she needed to say more. "But
... I still need help with fastening things," she finished in a rush.

Fuck. "
I'll go see if she's free," I told her as I headed for the entrance again. The giggly girls continued to ignore me. I returned. "Sorry, angel, she's not. Can I help?"

I could hear her breathing, but she didn't reply for a few slow breaths. "You remember how you helped me get dressed this morning?"

I laughed. "Of course, angel. I'll close my eyes or keep my eyes down the whole time. Don't you worry." Think horrible thoughts. Twisted, broken fingers. The gunshot wound in her leg, bleeding onto the road. Keep a blank face.

I slipped behind the change room curtain, my eyes on the grey carpet. A quick glance up told me Caitlin was sitting sideways in the chair, resting her arm on the back of it, so she had her back to me. As long as I stayed behind her, I might manage not to stare at anything she didn't want me to see. Of course, I wasn't counting on the surrounding mirrors, making sure even the slightest glance gave me a panoramic view.

She held out the back of her bra. I sighed and started on those little hooks. One, then the other one... oh, shit, now the first one again... I hated these bloody... Done.

I risked a glance up.
Strawberry-red satin lifting a lovely cleavage. I closed my eyes. Not strawberries. Think of blood.