Nightmares of Caitlin Lockyer (Nightmares Trilogy) (26 page)

I looked at her, bleary-eyed and yawning, as the watery sunlight trickling through the kitchen window turned her fair hair into a halo Chris didn't deserve. "She didn't."

"You let her sleep in your bed? What happened while you were away to make you so considerate?"

Irritated, I responded, "She's tired and she had a bit to drink last night. She needs some sleep before I take her home." Caitlin had smiled in her sleep as I'd tucked the quilt around her. My mouth had gone dry and I couldn't bring myself to wake her yet
. So beautiful...

Chris whistled. "She gets to sleep in your bed and she gets driven home! When did you become such a perfect gentleman?"

I tried to concentrate on making myself a coffee, in between thoughts of Caitlin. I didn't want or need to listen to Chris.

"You're not having breakfast? Or have you already eaten?"

"Can't you leave it, for even a second?" I didn't want to get into an argument – I wanted to have Caitlin's breakfast ready before she was awake. "What can I make her for breakfast? Do we have anything besides," I glared at the box, "cornflakes?"

"Breakfast, too? Was she
that
good?" Chris pressed.

Now I was pissed off. "Leave her alone! Just lay off her, okay?"

She let up. "All right." She paused long enough for me to take a sip of my coffee. "At least it's good to know you're not a paedophile."

"What?" I nearly choked.

"Well, you've finally left that poor kid alone. The one in hospital. How old was she – twelve, thirteen? It's about time you got over your crush on her."

"I didn't have a crush on her! She wanted me to be there!"

"Come on, the last thing she needed was to have you at her bedside, mooning over her."

"There are plenty of girls who'd love to have me sit by their bedside when they're in hospital!"

Chris took a deep breath. "Like the one in your bed right now? Maybe, but not a girl who's been abducted. After she's been raped and God knows what else, the last thing she wants is a man anywhere near her. Least of all you." She grabbed the cornflake box and turned around to put it away. She reached for the sponge and started wiping down the bench, refusing to meet my eyes.

"Nathan?" Caitlin was hesitant.

I saw Chris turn around at the sound of her voice, but I had eyes only for Caitlin. "Good morning, angel," I greeted her with a smile.

I couldn't take my eyes off her. Behind me, I knew Chris was staring, too.

One arm was wound around the door frame and the wall beyond, supporting her. Caitlin wore one of my jumpers, which reached almost to her knees, making her look like the child Chris had called her. The depths of her eyes told another story, though – one that wasn't suitable for children.

I took a step toward her, drawn closer by the irresistible black-hole hint in her eyes.

She gave a sheepish smile. Or perhaps it was rueful. "I can't seem to be able to turn the taps on in the shower." She held up her hand and her fingers looked red.

"I'll be right there." I jumped up, as if my chair was an ejector seat, and coffee splashed over my hand. I almost dropped the cup, but made it to the table in time. Shaking the coffee off my burnt fingers, I added, "Just as soon as I finish my coffee."

"Thank you!" Her eyes lingered a moment before she left.

Chris barely waited a few seconds for her to get out of earshot before she spoke. "You didn't!"

She was right and I hadn't. I'd come damn close, though, and I wasn't telling her that, either. Caitlin... oh my God, Caitlin... it was worth every sleepless, screaming night just for last night. And there'd be more.

I responded with only a smile. One that said there's chocolate for dinner and nothing else.

"You're a bloody cradle-snatcher! And don't get any ideas – you aren't and you'll never be Prince Charming!" she shouted at me.

I tipped the rest of my coffee down the sink,
then stalked to the door. "Just leave her alone!"

"You should take your own advice," she said with venom. "Go on, go help her – she probably can't even reach the taps!"

Bloody Chris – didn't know when to keep her mouth shut. After a night like last night, the last thing I wanted to do was argue – couldn't she see that? To stop myself from shouting back in kind, I left.

Just outside the door, I almost stepped on Caitlin, sitting on the floor. She didn't say anything. She just looked up at me with big, sad eyes and I held out my hands to help her to her feet.

I walked her to the bathroom, where she sat on the edge of the bath to watch me. I closed the door, then turned the taps on for her.

She came up behind me, her hands sliding under my shirt. "Why don't you set her straight? You could just tell her how old I am – it's hardly a secret."

"I know." My voice was muffled as she pulled my shirt over my head.

"Then why did you let her say what she did without defending yourself?"

"She likes to argue. That's why she wants to do law." I shrugged. "I don't want to argue with her. It would end in me telling her things she doesn't need to know – about you and about me." I closed my eyes, trying to squeeze my mental images out of existence.

Caitlin had taken her – my – jumper off, and the touch of her bare skin against my back was more than a little distracting.

"Would you like me to help you in the shower?" I couldn't resist saying.

"That would be lovely, Nathan." She sounded like she was smiling.

I offered to make her breakfast, but Caitlin said she wasn't all that hungry. She kept quiet as I helped her dress in some new clothes she'd bought yesterday, so we could both hear Chris crashing dishes around in the sink. I was more than happy to avoid the kitchen until Chris was out of it, but Caitlin insisted she wanted to speak to her. I grabbed the wet towels to hang them outside, telling Caitlin she could call me in if she needed anything. So I was outside with a clear view into the kitchen when she walked in.

Chris couldn't miss Caitlin entering the kitchen this time, a beacon of glowing white as the bright sunlight touched her t-shirt, but my sister didn't let on. Caitlin turned the kettle on and began hunting through the cupboards.

"He's not even making you breakfast?" Chris said suddenly over her shoulder, not looking at Caitlin.

Caitlin glanced at her, then looked away. "No, I talked him out of it."

She stared at her in surprise. "How did you manage that? It's difficult to talk him out of anything."

Caitlin laughed, her face lighting up in that irresistible way she had. "Difficult? He's as stubborn as a mule!"

Chris broke into a smile. "Well, yes." She laughed, too.

Caitlin stuck out her hand. "I'm Caitlin. Nathan seemed too preoccupied to introduce me before." Though she tried to hide it, her hand still hurt her and I saw her wince as the pressure of Chris's handshake bordered on painful.

"I'm Chris, his sister, as you've probably already been told." She saw the look on Caitlin's face. "Shit, are you all right?"

"No, but I will be one day," Caitlin said pleasantly as she pulled her hand away.

At that, Chris pushed Caitlin down onto one of the chairs and made coffee for her.

When Caitlin protested, Chris said bluntly, "It still hurts you to walk, doesn't it?"

"Not as much as it did at first, but it still does, a bit," she admitted reluctantly. My heart constricted in my chest – she tried so hard not to let the pain show, but I knew.

"Does he even know?" Chris said, half under her breath. "Look, I don't know what you've been through, what they've done to you or anything. Just don't assume he's some kind of Prince Charming because he rescued you. He's nowhere near perfect – he'll probably just end up hurting you, breaking your heart. He's good at that." She sounded bitter.

I frowned.
What in hell did she know about broken hearts? I'd never hurt anyone. I'd never hurt Caitlin...

"Do you think badly of me for staying last night?" Caitlin asked her quietly.

"No, it's him –" she broke off, then passionately began again. "What you want to do is your business, and you're not the first." Caitlin tried to say something, but Chris went on. "Not the first girl he's ever brought home, I mean. He'd come in late, not alone, and she'd be gone by morning. I've never seen – or heard – the same girl twice, except when they called to try to get in contact with him again."

I hid my smile. Alanna used to deal with those phone calls – some mad girls I'd slept with, who thought we had a future, though I'd made it perfectly clear there wouldn't be one. I was just that good in bed that they wanted more. It wasn't my fault they weren't up to par. Alanna used to give me an earful about it afterwards. Maybe Chris had heard it once or twice.

"It's been a long time since he brought anyone home, but I'd have thought he'd know better than to seduce you, or play on what he did for you – after all you've been through, you don't need him to hurt you as well!" Chris looked fiercely at me outside and I pretended to be very busy with the towels.

Chris sat down at the table by Caitlin, handing her a coffee. There was silence for a few minutes while they both drank.

Caitlin broke it. "I'm the same age as you. He told me about you, so I knew." When? When had I told her about Chris?

"Just don't let him hurt you," Chris repeated, staring at Caitlin as though she could see bruises.
Oh hell, was there a mark where the needle went in? Was she looking at her fingers? I could've sworn the swelling had gone down...

Preoccupied, I didn't notice that Caitlin had been silent, her head bowed. "He said he never wanted to see me hurt." Her voice shook.

When I'd said that, she'd been unconscious in hospital. What else was she remembering? This could only end in tears. I swore and headed inside.

Chris had pushed a box of tissues across the table to her, but Caitlin hadn't noticed. The tears just kept on coming.

I took one look at Caitlin's face and dropped to my knees next to her, arms around her, letting her cry against me.

"What did you say to her?" I demanded of Chris.

"I... I don't know." She sounded puzzled, and I looked up to see her staring at Caitlin, a look of astonishment on her face.

Caitlin stretched her arm out to take a tissue and used it. "I don't think I want breakfast any more. I want to go home."

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"I'll be right," Caitlin said fiercely, to herself as much as to us.

Caitlin unlocked the front door and turned to me, pressing her lips briefly against my cheek. "See you tonight for dinner?"

I stopped dead. "Don't you want me to stay with you?"

She shrugged. "I'll probably just be writing more of my memories down and doing some washing. Maybe catch up on the sleep I missed out on last night." Her smile was enough to remind me of things that were better than sleep. "I feel bad that I take up so much of your time. Like the rest of your life is on hold for me."

Right now, her safety was my life. Nothing was more important to me.

I'd sound like a real idiot if I said it, though, so I smiled and said, "I definitely don't mind. Are you sure, though? I mean, what will you do if the last of the bastards come for you while I'm not here?"

Her surprise made me feel stupid. "Call the police, of course, like you did last time. After all, they were so efficient. I'm sure they'd be just as helpful again."

The police did fuck-all last time – that was us.
I tried to find a way of saying it inoffensively, but came up blank before I realised that she didn't know – and I had to keep it that way. "I'm sure they will," I said, summoning a smile. "You know my number if you need me, too. So, dinner?"

Caitlin looked relieved.
"Dinner. See you tonight."

She left me standing on the doorstep as she shut the door. Feeling stupid, I trudged back to my car.

After a few minutes' driving, I still didn't know where to go or what to do. On Saturday, Chris would still be home and I definitely wanted to avoid my sister today. My job was to protect Caitlin as much as she'd permit, so I didn't have work to do after she'd dismissed me for the day. My life was on hold while I protected hers, and I wouldn't get my life back until it was over.

I wasn't stupid enough to think it could go back to what it was, no matter how much I wished for it. Before Mum and Dad made names for themselves as successful investment advisers in Dubai. It sounded so simple – telling a wealthy investor that if he invested his money in businesses known to support terrorist activity, he'd lose it. It wasn't that simple, of course, as Dad had explained on his last visit.

"For our advice to mean anything, we have to know which businesses support violent extremist activity and demonstrate with extensive data the resulting losses," he'd said, lining up his points like ducks crossing a road. "With the numbers to back us up from Marion's PhD project and the glowing reviews of satisfied customers, it was just a matter of the right introductions..."