Treasured Lies (25 page)

Certain he was hallucinating, Nox blinked a few times. The blond-haired child took a bite of something. An apple maybe. Nox rolled his tongue around his mouth, it was solid, foreign and as useless as hardened leather, incapable of producing moisture. Whatever that boy was eating, Nox wanted it. He reached out. As he watched the little boy take another bite, he imagined the moisture, the sweetness, and a groan released from his throat.

The boy took an apprehensive step forward and handed over the apple. Nox floated in a hazy dream as he reached for it. He took an enormous bite and felt the sting as his cracked lips split even further. Despite mingling with his blood, the apple was sweet and delicious. With the eyes of both children watching his every move, he devoured the whole fruit, core and all, in a matter of seconds.

The boat continued to rock back and forth, caught in the shallow waves rolling into shore. With every roll of momentum, the bottom of the boat protested with a scrape of metal on shoal. Nox glanced out to the ocean and the abundance of blue made him grateful that he'd hit land so quickly. He knew only too well that he could have floated for days. He also knew he'd be dead from dehydration if he had.

A person materialised behind the boys, high up on a cliff.

‘τι τα αγόρια κάνόύν?' Although Nox couldn't understand a single word the person said, the accusatory tone was unmistakable. A sense of déjà vu gripped him. Could this really be happening again? The curly-haired boy turned and yelled something over his shoulder.

Nox had no idea what they'd said, but he no longer cared. Just to be on dry land, and to have food in his belly was satisfaction enough.

He summoned his energy, braced himself on the side of the boat and attempted to stand. But his legs crumbled beneath him and he fell back onto the seat. Even though he must have slept for hours, he was physically and mentally exhausted. The sun's hot rays were a warm embrace on his face and he considered closing his eyes and falling back to sleep.

In a surreal dream, he allowed himself to be swept up. It took a while for him to realise he was in a woman's arms. Her bosoms were enormous and he had no choice but to snuggle into their soft mounds as she eased him out of the boat, carried him a few steps and then lowered him onto the gravelly sand.

He looked up at her, and with the sun radiating behind her she looked like the angel in the painting he'd viewed almost every day of his life in the church hall. Nox wondered if he'd died and woken up in heaven. But he was quick to realise that was impossible; after what he'd done in his life, he was surely destined for hell. Besides, the pain rippling through his body convinced him he had to be alive.

The woman was talking to him now and her touch on his forehead was as gentle as flower petals.

‘Water.' Nox's voice was barely a croak but he motioned ‘drink' with his hand and she nodded.

‘
Si, Si
.' She spoke to the children and then the dark-haired one dashed off somewhere out of view.

Nox closed his eyes and either through exhaustion or relief, he drifted in and out of awareness. One minute he was walking along wedged between the woman and her two children. Next minute he was gulping down mouthfuls of cool water, then chomping his way through thick slices of warm bread smothered in bittersweet lemon butter. Finally he was lying on a bed that enveloped him in its soft cushioning.

As the muscles in his body unravelled, he stared at the three faces hovering over him. After the ugly twins this trio were delightful to look at. The woman was cherubic in her features with pudgy cheeks, plum-coloured lips that were permanently pouting and a mop of curly dark hair that she'd tucked in behind her unadorned ears. The two children were boys and both had inherited their mother's plump cheeks and they smiled with mischievous grins. To Nox's relief they all looked friendly. Before long he allowed his heavy eyelids to close and he succumbed to exhausted sleep.

***

A beautiful angelic voice permeated Nox's dreams taking him to a place of safety, free from pain, free from angst. Free. A long forgotten childhood event rattled from his memory banks. He saw himself sitting at a table which was decorated in a red and white checkered cloth. A bunch of white flowers in a crystal vase were in the middle. There was a woman beyond the flowers, her back was to him. She was humming a tune he didn't recognise. He had a fork in his hand, clearly ready to eat. A small child ran up to the woman and she wrapped him up into her arms and swung him around with obvious glee. The child giggled. The woman laughed. Nox waited.

It was a long time before their spinning stopped. But when they did, neither of them glanced in his direction. Neither of them even seemed aware that he was there. Until the woman grabbed two steaming bowls off the bench. She shot a belittling sneer in Nox's direction and strode from the room as if she couldn't wait to get out of there. Nox was left behind. Alone and hungry.

The beautiful singing was louder now and it dragged Nox from the ugly childhood memory. He resisted opening his eyes for fear the comforts he was relishing right now would evaporate as fast as a dream. Nox could smell her too. She smelt of cinnamon and butter and flowers that reminded him of the night jasmine that blossomed at the back of his church every summer.

Why didn't she flee from him like everyone else did? Maybe he was so relaxed that his body odour was insignificant. But he knew that wouldn't be the case. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a shower, and he'd been wearing the same pants since the morning he was shot with the spear gun. Was that weeks ago? Months even? It was impossible to calculate. He didn't want to think of it. Right now, he wanted to stay right where he was, on the soft bed, listening to her beautiful voice, smelling her sweet perfume. Avoiding the reality he was destined to slam back into.

She touched his arm with cotton wool tenderness, barely applying any pressure, yet the sensation sent shockwaves through to his brain. Nobody touched him like this. Ever. Not knowing what to do, and not wanting the bliss to end, he kept his eyes shut. Maybe she was just checking him and then she would leave him alone a while longer.

But instead, the most incredible thing happened. She began to undress him. With meticulous care she weaved his arms in through the t-shirt he'd stolen from the twins and lifted it up and over his head. He heard her wince and he could only assume she'd seen one of his many wounds. His hand maybe. His stomach. His bruised hip or ankle. It didn't matter, all of them must look grotesque. The bruising would be black and swollen while his scabbing would still be covered in dried blood. Even he didn't want to look at them.

He heard a trickling sound and seconds later she touched his chest with a sponge soaked in warm water. Her singing resumed as she swept the sponge in soothing arcs across his bare chest. Nox was certain he'd slipped into heaven. The sponge bath continued down his chest to his stomach and her singing only stopped when she glided the sponge around his wound.

She squeezed out the liquid and when he heard the sound of her footsteps he peeked out just in time to see her disappear from the room. She was a large woman with her hips nearly as wide as the doorframe. Nox could hear her tinkering about in the room next door. A tap was turned on and moments later he heard her walking again. He closed his eyes and concentrated on calming his breathing down.

The sponge bath continued down his arms and when she held his palm in her hand it was easily the most tender moment of his life. She played the sponge around and over his wound in such a way that he barely felt it at all. Once again she stepped from the room to change the water, humming to herself during the whole process and returning once more.

When he felt her presence beside him, the humming stopped, and to his horror he felt her touching the button on his pants. The instant he heard the sound of his zipper, sweat trickled from his armpits. His condition was about to ruin his new-found bliss. He didn't want her to stop, but he had no doubt once she smelt him, it would all be over.

She gently tugged his pants off, rolling them down over his knees. He wanted the bath, God yes, it was heavenly to feel clean again. He wanted to be cared for, he wanted to be nursed back to health. But what he wasn't prepared for was the arousal he felt as she removed his pants from his ankles. His groin began to throb in a sensation he hadn't felt in a very long time.

She didn't pause and quickly removed his underpants. He knew for certain his body odour would scare her off at any moment. He didn't want it to end.

Her singing resumed as she squeezed the water from the sponge and started bathing his feet. The stirring in his loins was stimulation overload and it took all his might to keep his eyes shut and to remain completely still.

It had been decades since he felt such delicious sensations. He could pinpoint that exact moment. He was seventeen at the time. The young woman who instigated his arousal had long slender legs, breasts like delicate buds, and skin as pure as fresh cream. Sofia was her name. From the instant she'd held his hand, his penis had bounced to life. She had captured him in her spell and he fell for it.

If he'd had his senses about him, he would have questioned her motives. Nobody ever looked at him, let alone a young beautiful woman. Sure, he'd seen her having sex with other boys, courtesy of one of the many peepholes he'd discovered in the ancient church corridors. So maybe he was just another conquest. That's what he'd led himself to believe. This girl, this beautiful blonde-haired girl, just liked to have sex.

Sofia had him naked in no time. He'd even willingly agreed to be tied up. The promise of having her do to him what he'd seen her do to the other boys was too much. She even touched him, down there, and at the time, he'd been confused by the look on her face. It was more curiosity than seduction. She'd stepped back from him and her gazed skipped over his body to settle on his erection. When she said, ‘I'm ready, are you?' Nox just about exploded right there and then. And he would have, if two boys hadn't tumbled into the room laughing and joking. At him.

Sofia looked almost sad at what she'd done. Almost. If she'd been even slightly repentant, Nox may have let her live. But she'd gone along with those boys and their embarrassing jeers. It was another one of his life lessons that taught him a whole lot more about himself than his tormentors. Nox learnt to remove himself from the persecution. He suffered through their humiliating torture with seemingly no emotion.

But what they couldn't see was the putrid loathing festering inside him. Nox knew his tormentors would suffer greatly for what they did to him.

The moist sponge touched his inner thigh and Nox was wrenched free from the horrible nightmare he'd slipped into. She parted his legs. His heartbeat thundered in his ears. And his penis rose to attention. Nox had never felt a mother's touch. Or a lover's. This was the closest he'd ever come to either. He'd never believed a woman's touch could affect him like this.

Her humming stopped and he was certain she'd noticed his groin. The one and only time a female had seen him at full erection, she had scorned him. But this woman was the opposite. Her pause was only for the briefest of moments. She recommenced humming and Nox was sure it was louder, and more joyous.

Could it be that this woman found him appealing? As much as he found the thought ridiculous, he felt a compelling desire for it to be so. He lay there, stunned beyond moving as she loaded the sponge with more tepid water, and he just about flipped out of his mind when she ran the sponge around his testicles.

Her humming morphed into singing. His breath shot in and out as he rode a wave of divine bliss. This was easily the most erotic, sensual, bizarre moment of his life. For the first time ever he felt like a normal human being. His body, his hideous, diseased body, didn't repulse this woman. He felt like he actually belonged in the human race. He felt like he was someone who could be loved.

Calmness washed over him and Nox wanted to stay in this moment forever.

Chapter 28

‘Jesus babe, what are we going to do?' Rosalina couldn't believe what Archer was saying. She glanced at the sky, expecting to see the police helicopter in the distance, but it was long gone. Archer claimed nothing would be done about the attack from Iggy and even worse he didn't think the police were legitimate. Both realities cast a chill up her spine. It meant Ignatius had a whole lot more power than she ever imagined. It also meant he wouldn't give up until he had what he wanted. And that put them in a very dangerous situation.

Archer cupped her chin, drawing her eyes to his. ‘We're getting out of here for starters.'

Rosalina resisted the urge to jump for joy. She didn't want Archer to think she hated every moment aboard
Evangeline
. Although surely he couldn't blame her. Between life-threatening situations and missing her family, it was a wonder she hadn't taken off weeks ago.

She looked up at him, and one glance into his dark brown eyes convinced her he was as nervous as she was. It was a look she hadn't seen on her fearless man too many times. He kissed her forehead and tugged her to his chest. ‘I'll instruct Jimmy to haul up anchor and cast off.'

‘Now?' A flutter skipped over her stomach at the thought of going home.

‘No time like the present.'

She squeezed her arms around him. ‘Where will we go?'

‘It's time to get this treasure off
Evangeline
, so back to Italy. Besides, it's time I met your family.'

She frowned up at him. ‘You've met my family.'

‘Not all of them. Not your father, or your younger brother.'

Rosalina wasn't keen on seeing Filippo, not now that she had to confront him about all the hassles he'd been giving Nonna. And she hadn't seen her father in years. It wasn't that they'd had a fight or anything that would make them estranged in any way. But when her mother died he became increasingly distant. To the point where he rarely ventured into the main house anymore. He spent all his time in the winery and slept in one of the smaller cottages at the back of the property. Maybe the chance to meet her fiancé would entice him out of hibernation.