75
When I reached the bathroom, Michael, his earpiece barely visible, had a stack of towels in his arms and a fairly confused look on his face. We exchanged nods.
"Navid said you needed these?" he said.
"Spread a couple of them flat on the floor, one on top of the other, so I can put her down on them," I instructed.
I watched Michael smooth the towels across the tiles before I was satisfied. "Now, go get her some pyjamas or a nightie to wear. I don't care if you have to go out and buy it. Just leave them outside the door."
He nodded and left.
He didn't have anything else to say to me tonight. I didn't have anything to say to me either. All my attention was on Caitlin, who I'd come so close to losing I was scared almost into speechlessness. But I couldn't touch Caitlin without talking to her – she flinched away from contact unless I spoke. No bloody wonder after tonight.
"Okay, I'll be really careful, just in case you've been hurt. I'm going to try to get you cleaned up a bit. It's okay – it's just you and me. No one else."
I carried Caitlin to the shower. The plastic chair was still in the cubicle, so that's where I carefully placed her, the arms curving around her and keeping her upright.
My arms felt empty as I let her go. I shook myself out of my silly sentimentality and dropped to my knees on the tiles. I started checking her over. She'd been splattered with Laura's blood, dusted in something grey and then rolled on the carpet, so it was hard to tell if she was wounded. I decided to check her bones for breaks first, then look for anything else after I'd cleaned her up. Aside from the red marks from the handcuffs, her left hand looked fine. Her right hand wasn't so good, though, already swelling and tender from the pounding it had taken against the wall. A trickle of blood started at one knuckle, running down to her wrist. I took her hurt hand in mine and brought it up to my lips. "I'm sorry," I whispered again.
I felt stupid talking to her while she was unconscious, but it wasn't the first time, though it might be the last. I wondered what she was dreaming about, or if she heard me.
I closed my eyes, wishing there was someone else I could ask to do this. But there wasn't anyone else I trusted. I took a deep breath. "I'm going to take these clothes off you, angel. I need to check your injuries and make sure you're okay. Then I'm going to get you cleaned up. You won't need those any more – I'll get you into your own clothes as soon as I can."
Gently, I peeled the bloodstained pants from her legs, then pulled them off her feet, one at a time. I balled them up and threw them into the corner by the bin.
I took a deep breath and looked at Caitlin. There was dried blood on her knees and all along her shins. I closed my eyes, the images coming unbidden. She'd knelt in her nightie on the floor, slick with Laura's blood, as she pulled the pants off her and put them on. Fuck, what had she been thinking? Taking the clothes from a corpse?
Another deep breath that I held. Time for the vest. I swallowed, wishing I didn't have to do this. I had to check if Navid had broken any of her ribs. I told myself that if I thought of this as just another med practical and ignored her boobs like any professional doctor would, I'd be okay. Fuck. No, I wouldn't. Like a coward, I closed my eyes as soon as I touched the zip. Caitlin cringed, throwing her arms up to protect her chest, pushing my hands away.
I lifted my hands in surrender. "It's me and it's okay. I need to check if you're injured and get you out of these clothes. You're covered in blood, angel. I need to know that you're okay." Cautiously, I touched her zip again. "Just me, angel. I'm not going to hurt you." And I'm going to do my best not to perve on you, I swear. I clamped my mouth shut so I didn't say it. Right now, I'd apologise for it being dark at night if it would make her feel better.
Slowly, I pulled the zip down, then flipped it open to expose her blood-soaked shirt. Pretend you're back in the hospital, doing a chest examination on someone who's been in a fight. "It's okay, it's okay," I murmured as I checked her ribs. I breathed a sigh of relief as I realised that none of them was broken, though she had a fair bit of bruising already. "Okay, I'm going to take the shirt and vest off you completely so I can wash off some of the blood."
Carefully, I slid the vest down her arms, mindful of catching her hands on the armholes, before I pulled the shirt over her head. Desperately, I tried to think of anything but what was in front of me. I turned away to bunch the whole mess up and pitch it after the pants, but it was soaked in blood, leaving still more on Caitlin's skin and mine. I'd never been so happy to see she wasn't wearing a bra, for it was one less thing to take off.
I pulled the showerhead from its cradle, pointing the nozzle at the floor as I turned the tap on. I waited for the water to warm up, wanting it the perfect temperature to wash Caitlin without waking or burning her. I kept one finger in the spray the whole time and turned the fine mist on Caitlin's body.
I fixed my eyes on the floor, trying not to look at her as the pink water cascaded onto the tiles. When the water ran clear, I dared to lift my eyes. Her shins were clean and a few seconds more took the last of the dried blood from her knees. I leaned over her, letting the spray stream down her back as I watched the water on the tiles go from red to pink to clear once more.
Lastly, I focussed on Caitlin's face. Blood streaked her cheeks and there were chunks of Laura in her hair. I couldn't leave Laura's blood on Caitlin's hands or any other part of her. There's no way I could convince her it was all a dream if traces still remained.
Gently, I cupped the back of her neck in my hand so I could tip her head back and rinse the gore from her hair. That done, I carefully directed the spray so it ran lightly down her face. She screwed her face up, but she didn't open her eyes.
"It's okay, angel," I said softly. "Almost done."
I turned the water off and reached for a towel to cover her with. I spread another across my arms and lifted her from the chair to the towels on the floor, laying her flat. I slid a folded towel under her head as a makeshift cushion, spread another towel over the top of her and returned to the shower. For a moment, I looked at her, lying unconscious and cocooned in the white towels as she had been in the sheets on a hospital bed. It was less than six weeks ago, but it felt like a lifetime. A lifetime that had nearly ended for her.
I stuck the shower head back in its cradle and turned the water on, hotter and stronger than I had for Caitlin. I dumped my vest on the floor and stood beneath the needle spray in my dripping clothes as tears rolled down my cheeks. I don't know how long I stood there, nor whether I was mourning or relieved. Or both.
Eventually, I came to my senses enough to realise that I had to get Caitlin up off the floor and into her own bed. I shut off the shower and dripped across the floor to the door. Just outside was a plastic shopping bag, so I yanked it inside and closed the door.
I dried my hands before taking a look in the bag. It looked like someone had gone up to Kmart and brought back some new pink pyjamas for Caitlin. I ripped the tags off and looked at her towel-shrouded body on the floor.
Now I just needed to get her into them.
I swallowed and leaned over her, not sure where to start. The pocket of my shirt sent a stream of water pattering onto the tiles. I jerked back, not wanting to wet her again. Fuck. I need to take my wet clothes off and any clean ones I have are still in her room. Fucked if I'm leaving her alone to go get dressed. But I can't go naked around her, either, in case she wakes up. Fuck.
I stripped my wet clothes off quickly and wrapped a towel around my waist, praying it wouldn't come off. I wasn't sure what she'd do if she woke up to find me naked next to her.
I knelt on the floor beside Caitlin and slid a hand down her back, lifting her torso a little off the floor.
"Okay, I've found you some pyjamas. Let's get you dressed again," I murmured as I slid the top over her head. She started to pull away, but I kept talking. "It's okay, it's me, just getting you dressed for bed…"
I pulled the top down over her chest and stomach, taking the towel away as I did so. The top was huge on her. I told myself it was better than nothing. I couldn't have done any better – only in books and movies could a bloke buy clothes for a girl and get the size perfect, first try.
Right, time for the pants.
I pulled the towel down further.
Oh shit.
She still wore her wet underwear. I wasn't game to find her fresh underwear – I didn't want to take these off, but I'd have to. Fuck.
Caitlin's a beautiful girl. I'm not gay. It was fucking hard and I was wearing nothing but a fairly flimsy towel. I tried really hard to think of something, anything, but the beautiful girl I was about to undress.
I kept the towel over her. I hooked my fingers into the waistband of her knickers and pulled them down, keeping my eyes closed 'til I got them to her feet. Equally quickly,I slid the pyjama pants up to her waist, trying to touch her as little as possible. I pulled the towel away when I knew she was dressed. I took the last towel and spread it across my chest before I lifted Caitlin up and carried her back to her bedroom.
I laid her on the sheets, my hand lingering on her hair as I let her head down onto the pillow. I wanted…fuck. I pulled the quilt up to her collarbone, hiding temptation from sight.
Navid knocked on the door. "Everyone's in place. Even if there's nothing to watch for – they're all dead," he said. He looked hesitant. "Can I see her?"
I jerked my head toward the bed, lifting a finger to my lips to indicate quiet. She'd have a heart attack if she woke up to find him that close to her again, after what we just did.
He stood over Caitlin and looked at her for a moment, before he whispered, "She's just a kid! How did she survive?"
I shrugged. "She's stronger than she looks."
He got down on his knees beside the bed, next to her. "But isn't she beautiful? No wonder girls like this cover their faces. With one look, she could steal your soul. I swear Persian girls are the most beautiful in the world." Before I could stop him, he ran his fingertips down her cheek.
She shrank away from his fingers, screwing her face up. "No. Nathan. Nathan?"
I jerked my head toward the door. "Get out," I hissed.
I dropped to my knees beside her bed and held her tightly. "I'm here," I breathed into her ear. "I'm here." I felt her body relax in my arms and my heart with it.
"Why don't you just seduce her and be done with it?" Navid's voice startled me. Where he stood, his face was in shadow, his expression unreadable. "We've all seen how you look at her, how you act with her. You even sleep with her, every night. Some of the other guys find it hard to believe you haven't yet, but they don't know you. You wouldn't look at her the way you do if you'd already fucked her."
"It's not like that," I told him. "She'd run screaming if I so much as kissed her." Or fight as dirty as she had to if she was cornered and she couldn't run. I ached in more than one place at the memory of my lips on hers earlier that evening. I like a girl with spirit. A terrible line for a movie villain, yet no less true in my case. I hid a smile. But Caitlin isn't just a girl with spirit – strike a match and I could set that spirit alight. Oh God, what I'd give to see her burn with a passion that wasn't fury...
Navid interrupted my thoughts as if he'd heard them. "Give it a shot. What do you have to lose? You said it yourself. This operation is effectively over after tonight. It's not like you'll be seeing her for much longer." I could see his shoulders shrug.
What do I have to lose? I could lose HER. For the second time that night, I felt hollow, as if all my organs had suddenly been sucked into a vacuum in my chest, my ribs caving in under the pressure.
I snapped, "We almost lost her tonight because you couldn't count. Only three men and no sign of her, you said. The only reason we didn't fail is that Caitlin shot her. Now go stand guard to make sure there aren't any more mistakes."
"Just like you taking so long to help her. When she had to shoot the bastard on the beach herself," he shot back.
When I'd thought she was dead. Like tonight. "Get out," I managed to say.
He shrugged. "You might want to put some clothes on if you're not going to fuck her. You look pretty stupid in a towel." I heard his laughter as he left. He shut the door again, and we were alone. The loudest sound in the room was her even breathing, lifting my heart like a feather buoyed by each breath. She's alive. Oh thank God, she's alive.
They're all taken care of. All of them. Her house is safe, she's safe – even I'm safe. For the first time in how long? Too long. I pulled on my own pyjamas automatically, my eyes not leaving her sleeping face.
I almost lost her, then I almost killed her. By what miracle is she alive?
I didn't care. I lay down beside her, wrapped my arms around her like I had in the hospital – it seemed like a different century – and tried to believe that this was really happening. Despite my stupidity, she was alive in my arms.