Nightmares of Caitlin Lockyer

Part 23

23

"Hello?" Caitlin tried to sit up, struggling against the sheets that tucked her tightly in the bed. She looked around, bewildered, stretching her hands out as if reaching for something. "Where are you?"

Relief flooded through me. Finally. "I'm here, Caitlin. I haven't left." I stood up so that all she had to do was look up to see me.

Her eyes focussed on me, but she looked troubled. In concern, I reached for her hand. Too late I realised that I might hurt her. As my fingers grazed the gauze, I snatched them back. She looked at her hand in wonder at my touch as if she'd felt it through the bandage.

"I'm not dead, am I?" she asked in hushed tones.

I almost laughed but caught myself. She looked as if she might cry if I said the wrong thing. "You're doped up to the eyeballs and wrapped up like a mummy, but you're alive. Very much alive – and in hospital, where you should be."

"What happened?" she quavered.

I was at a loss for where to begin. I didn't know how to describe what she'd been through – just thinking about it was enough to give me nightmares. "You were hurt..."

She started to shake her head, then grimaced as this caused her pain. "No, I know that. There was lots of yellow with cartoon animals on the ceiling...but now I'm here and Winnie the Pooh is gone." She glared suspiciously at the ceiling.

If I were Winnie the Pooh, I'd be hiring a bodyguard, I thought, hiding my smile. She looks as if she's ready to put him on a hit list.

Her eyes fixed on me again, her voice firmer and more urgent. "What happened?"

This time I didn't hesitate. "You fought the nurses. You were so scared. I think they gave you something to make you sleep – you've been asleep for a while."

She swallowed as if remembering was an effort. "I called for you. You weren't there. They said that you were being treated somewhere else. I wanted to get up to find you, but they wouldn't let me. I mustn't have tried hard enough..."

Horrified at the memory, I cut her off. "You did too much as it was – if you'd done any more, we might have lost you. You came so close, Caitlin...hell, I was scared." She looked shocked. Embarrassed at having said it, I looked out the window – anywhere but at her. Careful. I have a job to do here and can't afford to make any mistakes.

I waited for her to say something, but she was strangely silent. "Caitlin?" I asked, worried, looking back at her. Oh fuck. Work can wait. She's far more important than any job. Seeing the tears cascading down her face and how hopeless she was at hiding them, I burst out, "Don't cry, angel. It's over."

That did it. She clung to me, sobbing, and I just held her, letting her cry herself out. After what seemed like forever, when I figured she'd cried herself to sleep against my shirt, she pulled away, hiccupping.

"Thank you. I think…you saved my life." Biting her lip, hesitating, she turned her eyes on me. "Who are you? I….I barely know you." She looked as if she might start crying again, her tears held back only by a force of will. I'd seen enough of her tears to last me into my next lifetime – or maybe just an eternity in hell after the end of this one.

I answered immediately, all of my prepared beginnings forgotten. "My name is Nathan Miller. I found you lying on the beach. I just brought you in to the hospital."

At this, she looked at her hands, bandaged up to her wrists, the IV drip taped to her already swollen right hand. "Nathan Miller," she murmured quietly, before taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. "Nathan," she breathed, her eyes still closed, as if my name were a new wine she were tasting, focussing on the feel of the word on her tongue.

I found myself holding my breath, unsure of what to say to this girl, a near stranger. A hysterical thought occurred to me. If there were a wine with my name on it, what sort would it be? I didn't know enough about wine to imagine it. One with a high alcohol content that came with a hangover in the morning, that's for sure. But what would she do? Would she savour the taste and take another sip, or spit it out with a shake of her head and refuse to let it pass her lips again? What is she thinking? I desperately wanted her not to reject me, this girl I barely knew. This girl I couldn't tear my eyes way from.

She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue before her mouth curved upwards in the slightest smile. "Thank you. You chose to keep your promise...Nathan." She opened her eyes slowly as she said my name, her tone caressing, those big dark eyes fixed on me as she tilted her head the tiniest bit to one side.

How did she do that? One moment my head was full of questions about what she'd said before my name, before it was wiped blissfully blank. All I wanted now was to hear her say my name like that again. All I could think about was what I wanted to do to her to elicit that kind of response. I wanted...Fuck, no!

There was no way in hell I could want a girl who was in hospital after being beaten and worse. A girl whose piercing screams woke me when anyone touched her, even in her dreams. I'd have to be a real sick bastard to want that. A sick bastard who's going to fucking forget he'd ever entertained the thought of wanting Caitlin, that's for sure, I promised myself.

Her eyes no longer held mine, focussing first on her white-swathed hands, before moving to her lap, surveying the whole length of the bed. She looked up slowly, biting her lip, taking an inventory of her hurts.

Knowing that her injuries were far worse than just those covered by the white bandages I could see, I swallowed and tried to speak. Better late than never. "I'm so sorry, Caitlin. If anything I did hurt you, I'm sorry."

Now she looked puzzled. "You…didn't. You...were…shot?" She looked at me, struggling to remember. She reached out, touching her palm lightly to the place where the bullet had grazed my shoulder.

Through both the bandage and the fabric of my shirt, I barely felt her light touch, but the contact felt electric, as if there was nothing between her skin and mine. As if she'd touched a nerve that fed directly into my spine, a tingling that was far from painful.

Hastily, I answered, "Yes. So were you. But…it could have been far worse if you hadn't distracted him. Thank you. I may very well owe you my life."

She gave a tiny smile in reply, still looking troubled, but her next words were interrupted by a fit of coughing that left her breathless and exhausted. I shifted the pillows behind her so she'd be comfortable as she sank back into them. I carefully pulled her sheets and blankets up to cover her again, conscious of her eyes on me.

"Will you still be here in the morning when I wake up?" she asked in a small voice.

Of course. Where else would I be? I'll lose my job if I'm not, I thought but didn't say. "Would you like me to be?" I asked instead.

She nodded hesitantly, her eyes fearful.

"Then I'll be here," I said with a smile.

"Thank you," she responded softly, closing her eyes.

"Nathan," she murmured a few seconds later, almost as an afterthought, as she drifted into sleep once more.

I stood and moved to my own bed, intent on going back to sleep, too.

Brilliant. I made her cry, compared myself to a hangover in a bottle and nearly propositioned her. Maybe the next time I stick my foot in my mouth I'll do her a favour and fucking choke on it.

My eyes snapped open as I realised. I turned to look at her, but she was asleep. I lay back on my pillow, now wearing a smile on my face.

However badly I'd handled this, she still wanted me to stay 'til the next morning.