Nightmares of Caitlin Lockyer (Nightmares Trilogy) (9 page)

BOOK: Nightmares of Caitlin Lockyer (Nightmares Trilogy)
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She looked fearfully at me. "Nathan... I... don't even want to think about them. Talking about my nightmares will only bring them back."

"No it won't,"
I coaxed. "That's what all the psychologists and counsellors say. You wait. They'll tell you it's good to get it out and your heart will feel lighter."

Caitlin shook her head. "Nathan
..." Fresh tears started to flow. She lifted her arms, shaking with her first sob.

I hesitated. I wasn't stupid, but I wasn't heartless, either. I moved from the chair to her bed so I could hug her like she wanted. It felt like the right thing to do, too.

"I can't, Nathan, not yet. I can't," Caitlin murmured as she clung to me and cried.

Fuck it.
I stroked her hair. "It's okay. You don't have to."

35

It was a shiny red Mercedes. Not the newest.

The driver looked at me.

Friend in the back.

Saucer eyes.

Someone hit me, pushed me into the back of the car with Saucer Eyes.

Two in the front.

Passenger, driver.

Passenger hit me, drugged me.

Sorry. Oh God, so sorry.

Fight them.

Don't let them win.

Sleep and remember.

Until later.

36

"We need a statement from you, Miss Lockyer." The police officer sounded almost hesitant. After last night, I was, too. "I understand this will be upsetting for you, but we need your assistance to catch the people who did this to you."

Caitlin bit her lip and
nodded, her eyes downcast. Her hand reached for mine and I held it carefully, mindful of her fingers.

The police officer cleared his throat. "Mr Miller, I'll have to ask you to leave or at least step outside."

Unwillingly, I rose. I tried to let go of her hand, but I couldn't. Somehow, she'd twined her fingers through mine and couldn't, or wouldn't, let go. She emitted a strangled sound as I tried to detach her gauze-shrouded fingers, so I stopped. I looked hard at Caitlin, but her eyes remained fixed on her lap. Her face grew paler the longer I looked.

"No." The firmness in her voice surprised me and the police officer, too.

"I'm sorry?" He looked confused. "You won't give a statement yet?"

Caitlin looked up, her brow furrowed. "I'll make a statement now, but I want Nathan to stay."

The police officer cleared his throat. "Mr Miller is a suspect in this matter and we'd prefer that your statement is made privately, so you feel safe and don't hold back information. Your statement will remain confidential."

Caitlin's eyes locked on his and her voice hardened. "Detective, I will
never
feel safe until I know every one of those bastards can't touch me again. And I will never feel safe alone with a police officer, after one of them shot at me. Nathan... Nathan shouldn't be a suspect in this. He never... He didn't... He's about the only person who hasn't hurt me." Her voice was firm through most of this, but wavered toward the end. Her eyes filled with tears, which spilled down her cheeks. She reached for a tissue with one bandaged hand, then the other, unsuccessfully.

I reached over and pulled a tissue out of the box, holding it out for her. Caitlin turned her sad eyes to me, her useless hands held out in front of her. "Please," she whispered. I hesitated a second before I carefully wiped her tears away.

She turned back at the police officer. "I can't use my hands and I can barely stand, let alone walk. I feel so helpless, one of these pillows would probably be an effective weapon against me." She gave him a sad little smile. "I know I need to make a statement so you can catch the people who did this to me, no matter how upset talking about it will make me feel. I'll do it, however many tears it takes, but please don't make me do this alone." Her voice faded to a whisper. She looked pleadingly at the police officer, then at me.

I spoke first. "If you want me to stay, I'll be here for you."

The police officer looked hesitant, as if he wanted to agree but knew he couldn't.

She laced her fingers through mine before turning her tear-filled eyes back to the police officer, her voice barely louder than a whisper. "I don't know how long it will take before I'm strong enough to tell this story without someone to support me. I don't even know if I can. I want you to catch them and I want to help you do it. I want to know they can't touch me and that I'll be safe as soon as possible. Please – I feel like I have so little courage left. Let me tell this story before it's gone. I don't know when I'll be brave enough to attempt it again." She held his gaze for a moment, before bowing her head in defeat. She looked so small and vulnerable all of a sudden.

I found myself moving almost automatically to comfort and protect her. The words were out of my mouth before I could think. "I promised I won't let them hurt you again. They won't touch you – you will be safe."

The police officer cleared his throat. "I think that if you'd like to make your statement with him present, under the circumstances, you can do so. Provided, of
course, that Mr Miller doesn't interrupt or interfere in any way."

I felt her whole body relax in my arms. "Thank you." Her voice was fervent with relief.

"Can you tell me what you remember?" the police officer asked carefully.

Caitlin sat up, resting against me, both of her hands in mine. I felt her stiffen as she closed her eyes.

"I remember they had a red Mercedes. They hit me, pushed me into the car, made me breathe something that knocked me out in the back seat. It was dark when I woke up. It was always dark and... they hurt me. I remember pain and cold in the dark. And then Nathan – telling me it was over, that they weren't going to hurt me again. The next thing I remember is waking up here." Her eyes opened, looking as lost as when she'd woken here and called for me.

The officer looked stunned. "That's all you remember? Don't you remember being shot?"

"No," she whispered, then cleared her throat and resumed in a more normal voice. "I have... dreams... nightmares... and sometimes I see things that make me remember. Bits come back, but they're only ever bits. I should write them down, but I can't yet." She held up her bandaged hands.

"I'll do it," I found myself saying. "I can bring in my laptop, you can tell me what you remember and I'll type it in for you."

I earned a suspicious look from the police officer, but Caitlin looked relieved.

"Thank you," she said as she crumpled. She fell mostly against me, so it was a small matter to twist my fingers from hers and shift her so that she rested on her pillows. Her eyelids fluttered a little, but she didn't open her eyes.

The officer stood up. "Well, if that's all you have to say today, I'll be going. Until next time, Miss Lockyer."

"
Mmm hmmm," Caitlin murmured quietly, her eyes still closed.

He nodded to me and I returned the curt gesture.

He left, but I watched Caitlin. She hadn't shown any warning signs of feeling faint. I wondered if I should call a nurse.

The door clicked shut behind the man and I saw her go from rigid to
relaxed.

"Do you want me to call a nurse?" I tested.

Caitlin breathed a sigh so deep it made her sink further into the pillows. "No, it's okay. I just need to rest."

"You absolutely do," I replied. "Rest and heal. Tomorrow I'll bring in the laptop and you can tell me everything you remember."

She sucked in a breath but she didn't reply.

37

Dark. Laboured breathing.

Couldn't see.

Touch.

Skin on skin.

So cold.

Moaning.
Coughing.

Can't find a blanket.

Cold.

Need warmth.

Blood.

Silent scream.

Can't.

Die...

Help.

Need to run.

Can't

Oh God

38

"Pervert. Sorry. Oh God, so sorry." Caitlin rubbed her cheek against her shoulder. A smear of tears turned the cotton from light blue to dark. "Let me go..."

If I'd thought having to listen to her nightmares was bad, writing her memories was worse. I've never seen anyone cry as much as Caitlin did th
ose first two hours.

"No reply, no light. More pain, bitter tears. Alone in the dark when I needed
help."
Her voice broke into a sob on the last word, but she hiccupped and continued. "I remember lying down, sobbing. Cold, rough, hard concrete. Dusty. Made me cough but no one heard. Pain. Relief that no one heard me..."

She sat with her eyes closed, tears streaming down her face as she fought to find the words to describe the horrors she could remember.
Disjointed memories – every one of them dark.

"Don't touch me! Hold her down, I said
... Touch me and I'll kick your face in! How are you going to do that with him holding you down? I said..." She swallowed painfully. "No!"

I'd keep typing until she stopped, her sobs choking her into silence. Then I'd put an arm around her shoulder, she'd cry into my shirt for a while, she'd sit up, hiccupping, and she'd start again, presumably where she'd left off.

"Too heavy... couldn't breathe... hhhurt me... couldn't scream. Hurt me again. Gasping, sobbing... no air. Crushing weight lifted... a breath... another. Why a reprieve? Touching me... NO! A scream... mine... hhhurt me more..."

It was like watching her throw up.

"Don't touch me... don't touch her... don't..." Caitlin's voice failed. I waited, but she went on. "Can't stop. Must... shouting... shots... hurts... No. Can't stop. Must... hurts... Can't get up. Must... red light... blood. Scared... slipping..."

At first, I thought I could take it, but what was coming out of her mouth and what it was doing to her made me sick to my stomach.

"T-t-took my clothes... tried to fight... threatened me. Scared... froze... cried... couldn't fight. So cold... ssshhhivering and cold in the dark... Two – two of them."

By halfway through, I wanted to kill them all.

"B-bound my hands... broke my fingers. Screaming... pain... Couldn't see for tears. He had a knife... cut my clothes off." She swallowed. "Tried to kick him. Couldn't see. Too dark. He... caught my legs. Pushed them down... apart... unzipped... Oh God, please... no..."

By the time she'd been at it for a couple of hours and was so choked up she couldn't do it anymore, I was ready to not just kill them, but chop them up into small pieces and burn their remains, in no particular order. Then burn the clothes I'd been wearing and take a shower in disinfectant.

I asked Caitlin if she wanted to take a look at what I'd written, to add to it where I hadn't been able to type fast enough, but she shook her head, her eyes tightly closed.

"Later," she murmured.
"Another day. I can't any more today." She lay down again on the pillows and turned her face away from me.

"Did you want me to leave you alone for a bit?" I asked hesitantly, already thinking about getting a nice coffee from the cafe downstairs and the possibility of any distraction to get the last two hours out of my head.
I wondered how many sexy nurses and doctors visited the coffee shop.

"Please don't." The face Caitlin turned toward me now was wide-eyed with fear. "I don't want to sleep again yet. I'm going to have nightmares after this."

You're not the only one, I thought.

I hesitated for a second before I
offered, "Why don't you come downstairs and we'll get a coffee? There's a coffee shop downstairs and they had some nice-looking cakes this morning. I know the hospital staff don't let you have cake..."

She gave a tiny smile, looking wistful. Before she could refuse, I called the nurses' station to arrange a wheelchair and some theatre scrubs for her to wear.

As I hung up the phone, I looked down and realised I could do with a change, too, out of my salt-encrusted shirt and into a clean one. I pulled the dirty one over my head and dug in my bag for clean clothes.

I heard Caitlin make a sound behind me as she shifted between the sheets. I turned to see why. She was looking at the bathroom door, turned away from me.

"What is it?" I asked, moving closer to her.

She kept her face averted and pressed her lips together. She closed her eyes and shook her head. "Nothing," she said softly.

"Are you sure?" I asked, touching her arm.

She shuddered and shrank away from me. "Please, I
... Let me know when you're done changing your clothes."

I looked down. It's not as if I'd suddenly sprouted a beer belly. I still had my six-pack; softened a bit by days in bed, but a six-pack I was proud of, nonetheless.
I resolved to work out a bit more when she was asleep. It was as I was looking down that I realised.

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