- Home
- Demelza Carlton
Necessary Evil of Nathan Miller
Necessary Evil of Nathan Miller Read online
Necessary Evil
of
Nathan Miller
DEMELZA CARLTON
DEDICATION
This book is dedicated to all those whose names I've borrowed for characters along the way.
I'm not entirely sure how your namesake developed into a vengeful, sadistic, psychopathic dominatrix or a brutal, callous, murdering rapist as the story progressed…
You never know what's hiding under the safe-looking surface until it's too late.
Nathan thought Caitlin was a little angel, too.
Copyright © 2013 Demelza Carlton
Lost Plot Press
Smashwords Edition
All rights reserved.
Contents
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
Part 10
Part 11
Part 12
Part 13
Part 14
Part 15
Part 16
Part 17
Part 18
Part 19
Part 20
Part 21
Part 22
Part 23
Part 24
Part 25
Part 26
Part 27
Part 28
Part 29
Part 30
Part 31
Part 32
Part 33
Part 34
Part 35
Part 36
Part 37
Part 38
Part 39
Part 40
Part 41
Part 42
Part 43
Part 44
Part 45
Part 46
Part 47
Part 48
Part 49
Part 50
Part 51
Part 52
Part 53
Part 54
Part 55
Part 56
Part 57
Part 58
Part 59
Part 60
Part 61
Part 62
Part 63
Part 64
Part 65
Part 66
Part 67
Part 68
Part 69
Part 70
Part 71
Part 72
Part 73
Part 74
Part 75
Part 76
Part 77
Part 78
Part 79
Part 80
Part 81
Part 82
Part 83
Part 84
Part 85
Part 86
About the Author
Part 1
Don’t get into cars with strangers.
So stupid to think I was strong enough to resist.
But I never dreamed it would happen to me.
Dashing through traffic in daylight. A tingling instant preceded my sneeze. Desperately scrabbling for a tissue before the explosion. Sneezing, blowing, blech…I wanted to wash my hands, but there was nowhere on the Terrace to do that. I looked up, wondering where I could.
My search met her stare, through the open window of her Mercedes. I knew my sneeze couldn’t inspire such fascination, so I looked behind me. Her laughter dragged my eyes from the ordinary street scene back to her. Apprehensive, I started to walk towards her, because my path lay past her.
She stepped out of her car, continuing to stare at me. I tried to look anywhere but at her. She had a nice car – a shiny red Mercedes with even shinier mag wheels, but not the newest model. I’d seen the newest ones in the doctors’ car park at the hospital. Yet there was something in the lines of this one...
"Now that's a nice car," I couldn't stop myself from saying.
She smiled and motioned for me to come closer. Her hair was a short, dark bob that shone in the sun, her lips a glistening bright red that matched the car.
"My friend wants to ask you something," she said. Cracking open the car’s back door, she jerked her head in the direction of the car’s interior.
I leaned on the door frame and stuck my head inside with considerable curiosity. My eyes took a moment to adjust from the bright sunlight outside to the tinted gloom.
There were two guys in there – one in the passenger seat and another in the back. The one in the back was breathing heavily, like he'd just finished a long sprint...or he was making an obscene call. I could barely see his face, just his eyes. His eyes were on me, wide as saucers.
Pervert. I tried to back away, but the bitch behind me didn't let me. She hit my diaphragm with the heel of her hand, forcing my breath out in a huff. Unable to breathe, the street stood still in my mind as I stared around, desperately hoping for someone to see – someone who'd help me. Did eyes meet mine? Did I imagine understanding? If it was, it came too late. The burning flare that was my need to breathe exploded and she shoved me into the car. I fell on flesh encased in fabric as I gasped for breath, a flailing fish in the pervert’s lap as I lay across the back seat. I dimly heard the doors and windows shut. The motor hummed as the car accelerated away – before I had enough air to scream.
Part 2
"And now in breaking news, Caitlin Lockyer has been found. In the early hours of this morning, a man discovered her body dumped on a south-west beach. Sources say that she was left on the beach to die, but she was found in time and moved to hospital in Perth, where she remains in a critical condition. A police spokesperson would not confirm whether the girl known as the Absent Angel is alive or dead…"
Let me know when you work it out, won't you? I don't feel dead…
"Oh, turn that down. She's waking up…Get a dressing over that one and we can make a start on these ulcers…"
Unfamiliar hands touching me. Unfamiliar voices talking about my injuries as dispassionately as a GPS giving directions.
Is it safe to open my eyes? Are they helping me, or do I need to fight my way free? My head felt full of thick fog, so the thoughts were slow to surface.
Pain made the decision for me – twin pains. A sharp pull on my hair as someone tore the skin from my back. I cried out, so I didn’t hear what the low voices murmured. A cold touch of metal at the side of my neck.
Going to cut me again. It’s going to hurt worse...
"No!" I shouted, or tried to. My voice rasped in my throat.
I couldn’t feel my hands, but I still tried to use them to push myself upright to a sitting position. The moment I put weight on them, feeling returned. Pain shot up every one of my fingers, through my wrists and up my arms, like electrodes attached to every nerve. My scream sounded squeaky and weak, which is why I heard the snip of the scissors.
I opened my eyes to see bright light, briefly blocked by what was unmistakeably my hair.
The scissors cut my hair, I realised. Taking everything away from me, even my hair. Bastards.
"You promised!" I sobbed out. "You promised you wouldn’t let them hurt me again. Please, come back!"
He was shot. You saw the blood. If he’s not here, is he even alive? Did they kill him?
I shook my head, trying not to see the picture in my memory: his shock at the spreading patch of red on his shirt, over his chest.
I focussed on the grinning pictures on the ceiling above me. Winnie the Pooh, Eeyore, Mickey Mouse, Minnie Mouse...
Eeyore I liked. He looked sympathetic. I wanted to scream at the rest of them or scratch their eyes out. Stop grinning at me like my pain is funny!
A concerned face came into view. "She’s awake. Honey,
can you hear me?"
"Yes," I told her impatiently. "Where is he?"
"Who, honey? They can’t hurt you any more," she said soothingly. Dropping her voice lower, she murmured, "We need to give her more pain relief. This isn’t enough."
They can hurt me and he promised to protect me. But he can’t if he’s dead and I can’t sleep until I know where he is. I don’t even know his name.
I ignored the soothing woman, who didn’t know what she was on about. "Where are you? Please, come back. You promised."
Carefully, I pushed with my elbows and not my hands this time. I struggled to sit up and see where I was. Where he was.
Gloved hands weighed on my shoulders, pushing me down. I took a swipe at the hands, growling, "Don’t touch me!" as I collapsed on the bed again.
I turned my head as a shoe squeaked on the vinyl floor. The soothing woman now had a syringe. She’s going to give me something that will make me sleep. They’ll kill me in my sleep and I’ll never wake up!
I struggled to rise and this time they didn’t stop me. Every head was turned away from me to the door of what I recognised as a hospital room in an Emergency Department.
Hey, the news got something right. I am in hospital. But which one?
I heard his voice. I finally saw his face clearly as he pushed past an orderly to enter the room. The face of the man who killed another in an effort to protect me, before the police shot him… Fuck. Focus. Memories can wait.
"Don’t let them hurt me again!" I shouted at him as I lunged for the syringe with my uncooperative fingers, before my arms gave out and I was lying flat on the bed again. I couldn’t feel if I’d managed to snatch the syringe or just knock it out of her hands. I didn’t have the energy to lift my arm to check, either.
My eyes didn’t leave him. His face looked pale and a bit scared, though he tried to keep his voice calm. He had no shirt on and a white dressing, spotted with a little fresh blood, looked like a misplaced breast pocket on his bare chest. He said something about being in hospital, but I didn’t catch the words.
"I’m so tired, but I’m scared to sleep," I told him, my voice starting to give out as my eyes filled with tears. "What if, when I wake up, you’re gone and I’m still there with them? Please..." I didn’t know what to ask him for. Please don’t be dead?
He promised he’d be here, again.
I could feel my mind going under. Like drowning in a warm bath, only I could still breathe. He promised. Even if he’s dead, he was shot trying to help me.
"Thank you." I tried to say the words, but I wasn’t sure if they came out right. Even the ghost of someone killed trying to help me deserved my thanks.
Is he a ghost or is he real? I thought but was too tired to give voice to it any more. Directly above me, all I could see was a blurry yellow bear. As a ghost he can’t protect me...If this kills me, Winnie the Pooh, I’m taking you and your smug smiling face with me to hell. This last thought followed me down into a spiral of darkness.
Part 3
The sibilance of sound as his voice spoke in endless waves. Sentences ebbed and flowed in the dark – always the same ones with slight variations.
Sssssorry…
"Caitlin, I'm sorry I didn't help you sooner."
"Stole a shirt from a corpse and stuck it on you. Sorry…"
"So sorry…"
"Sorry I didn't…"
Sssssafe…
"It's okay, angel, you're safe."
"Safe in hospital, where you belong."
"You're safe now. They can't hurt you."
"I'll keep you safe, Caitlin. I swear…"
"Shh, it's okay, you're safe now."
Sssssshe…
"She's the same age as you. I couldn't let them…"
"She said she knew who'd killed her."
"She's all I have left. Please…"
"After a few drinks, she wanted to leave, so we made it to the back seat of my car before she…"
"She was my twin…"
"She must've spiked my drink…"
Sssssssister…
"My twin sister…"
"The only sister I have left…"
"Said, 'Are you sure you didn't get the sister instead? We'll call him Chris, just in case…'"
"Please, wake up and help me save my sister."
"Said it'd remind me of the sister I didn't want them to take. You or her, he said…"
"Do you know what it's like to lose a sister?"
Sssssshhhhhould've…
"I should've tried to help you sooner…"
"Should've known she seemed strange…"
"Should've grabbed you before she did and run…"
"Should've known…"
Ssssorry…
"Sorry. Caitlin, I'm so sorry."
Surfacing to sound, before submerging in darkness once more. Sorry. Slipping…sinking…from safety to screaming nightmares.
Shit.
Part 4
Mercedes – Red – Chris – Her – Mike – Sorry – Pervert
Saucer Eyes looked like he was going to cry. I was going to make him cry if he so much as touched me. "How c-"
"Shut up!" said the one in the passenger seat.
Saucer Eyes wasn't much older than me. His breathing slowed, but it felt forced, the muscles in his legs tense beneath my back. Thighs as taut as a fully laden clothes line. One hand clutched the door handle, but the door didn’t open, no matter how hard he pulled on that handle. His other hand mashed down the window button, which wasn’t opening, either. Held prisoner by the car’s child lock. No one trusts a pervert, not even his peers.
He wouldn’t look at me as he mumbled something, half under his breath, that sounded like, "Sorry," before he turned away to stare out the window.
I dragged air in through my nose, inflating my burning lungs like brand-new balloons. I wanted to kill the bitch and her two blokes, too. But first…
"Let me go, you bastard!" I blared, feeling satisfaction as Saucer Eyes’ hands shot up in scared surrender.
You can wait, pervert. The big bastard gets his balls ripped off first. Besides, the only way out is through his door, if the back doors are child-locked shut.
The big, chunky bastard in the passenger seat just laughed.
I tensed, testing each muscle for readiness as I prayed I could do enough damage to make him let me go.
I launched my body at him, clawed fingers first, reaching for his face. I wanted to scratch his eyes out, but his fist to my jaw jerked my head up so hard I saw stars as I landed in Saucer Eyes’ lap, stunned. I sucked in a sobbing breath, not game to give in to the blokes who could kill me. Fight them ‘til I fucking killed them, for I’d never let them win as long as I drew breath. One more breath and I’d be up, ready to rip out an eye.
Chunky twisted in his seat, telling Saucer Eyes, "Chris, hold her still," but he wouldn’t touch me. Still surrendering, Chris was saucer-eyed and shaking, set against a background of the dark car ceiling. Chunky caressed the forming bruise on my face with a satisfied smile, saying, "Beautiful," before he clamped a cloth over my face, crushing me down onto Saucer Eyes. Chris.
I remember gasping for breath, fighting what I knew was sweet, cloying chloroform, but I couldn’t. All I could see was Saucer Eyes’ face, his anguished look as his lips formed the words I couldn't hear, "Oh God, I’m so sorry," before it all vanished in a dark haze.
It’s all dark after that.
Part 5
The first unfamiliar voice I heard was male. I struggled to focus, but it was like my body was too heavy to move, from my eyelids to my toes. Even the voice sounded like it was far away or it was a TV with the volume on low.
"Guards…no one…we need her to stay safe…." I heard the unfamiliar voice say.
The reply came with words I couldn’t hear, but my heart relaxed at the sound. I didn’t know his name, but I knew his voice meant safety.
The unfamiliar man heard him, though, and he responded, "….get them before the loca
l police do…be her fucking best mate…"
It’s his job to guard me. He’s not police, but he’s here. He’s going to stay and keep me safe. And he has orders to get them before the police do. Shit, not before I get there first. I want to kill them all for what they did to me. Maybe he’ll help me…my best mate, all right.
They kept talking while my thoughts drifted in the dark.
Some of the words penetrated the fog in my head. "Let me know what you find out. And don‘t let anyone fucking kill her." The unfamiliar voice faded, as if he was walking away from me.
That’s right. Don’t let anyone fuck or kill me. Not even in self-defence.
Drifting…
Part 6
I heard voices as I floated in the dark, mostly his but sometimes others. Sometimes I could discern a few words, but they seemed too far away to focus on. The only concept I seemed to be able to hold onto was whenever I heard his voice, there was no pain and I thought, It’s okay. I’m safe. In between those times, I fought them in the dark, over and over again.
I couldn’t open my eyes to see if any of them – him or them – were real. I was too tired, my eyes too heavy. Or my eyes were open and it was so dark that I couldn’t see, just like before. This felt different, somehow. It was warmer here.
I heard his voice as a wordless hum and relaxed in the sensation of safety it brought. Through the contentment in my head, I heard him clearly say, "Alana."
That’s my name! My middle name, anyway. I struggled to focus on what he said next. Something about his sister.
"...Never stopped fighting, never let them win. So they broke her and they killed her. How could anyone do that to her?"
How could anyone do that to me?
"I wanted to hunt them down and hurt them for what they did to her. But the police didn’t arrest anyone and they could still do it again, to someone else!"
Hunt them down and kill them. Then they’ll never do it again.
"I’m sorry, Caitlin. I never wanted to see you hurt. Not like this. I should have helped you sooner..."
It’s not too late. Help me hunt them down and kill them. Then maybe I’ll forgive you for what you did...
I felt the fury bubble up inside me, but all it did was exhaust me, pushing me deeper into the dark where I couldn’t make out what he was saying.