Super bumper edition!!! (LOL)
Sorry it took so long, I was editing and re-editing some of the scenes in this chapter.
Previously…
“Chloroform?” The middle aged lady was alarmed. “Sweet Jesus. So you weren’t quarrelling?” She inquired.
“No. Of course not. I’ve never even met him before.”
She remained sceptical. “Do you remember his face?”
I tried to shrug, but a sharp pain sent me reeling forwards. Heck. My shoulder must be dislocated. “No. He was wearing a hooded cloak.”
Enjoy, then?
-
“Why’d you want…” A familiar voice complained from somewhere near the second floor landing.
“Just get it, will you?” Mrs Kendrew shrieked over her shoulder as she opened a nondescript door. It revealed a sparely, although tastefully, furnished room that reminded me of a ward. Admittedly, she was a nurse. And a high ranking one at that, from what I’d gleaned from Erica.
Presently, Mrs Kendrew turned to the younger woman. “Zara, thank you for bringing Katherine here.”
“It’s the least I could do.” Mrs Noelle shrugged. Her expression grew worried. “I’ll need to leave her to you. The kids…”
“I understand.” Mrs Kendrew nodded. “Take care.”
“You too.”
The nurse ushered me into the room as Mrs Noelle took her leave.
“Chris’s here?” I murmured, wincing as she helped me out of my jacket.
“Yes,” Mrs Kendrew replied, motioning me to sit on the bed while she rummaged in a cupboard. “He’s supposed to have a bug or something.”
“Supposed to?”
She rolled her eyes. “He’s been trying to – and succeeding in – getting out of dances ever since he was a freshman. Of course, he can’t skip the major ones, but he tries to. Now let’s take a look at this arm of yours. Zara – Mrs Noelle to you – said that someone tried to kidnap you.”
“No, it’s nothing like that. He used a chloroformed cloth, is all. We fought. He twisted my arm up my back.” I winced slightly as she probed a tender part of my arm.
“You fought? Chloroform?”
The door opened. “Here’s the… Katherine?”
Chris stood stock-still in the doorway, an extensive first aid kit and a metal basin in his arms. He stared at my bruised arm with barely concealed shock.
I found his reaction strangely amusing. “Hello, Chris.”
“What the hell did you…” He began.
“Chris.”
He jolted into action, handing his mother the equipment.
“What…”
Mrs Kendrew fixed her son with her steely hazel eyes.
He frowned, but then nodded in defeat, mother and son both reaching a tacit consensus. Then he dragged two chairs from a corner of the room over to the bed.
“Your shoulder’s partially dislocated, and there’s a slight fracture in your forearm right here,” Mrs Kendrew pronounced as she sat on the chair Chris offered her. “I’m going to make a splint for you to fix your forearm in position first. Then there’ll be a lot of pain. Do you want some anaesthesia?”
I shook my head. I didn’t think I could stand its effects. It was too much like chloroform.
I regretted my decision later. Mrs Kendrew had deftly manoeuvred my arm back in place, and it had been excruciating. It had been so hard trying not to moan in front of Chris. I must have ground my teeth into dust in the process.
There was a soft knock at the door. “Is Kathy all right now?” Erin stood in the open doorway, clutching a teddy bear in her hand. Cara stood beside her, holding a bunny.
“Yes, Erin. She’s feeling much better now.” Mrs Kendrew smiled reassuringly at the young child.
I couldn’t help but grimace. Chris saw my pained expression and chuckled, though he still looked worried and much paler than before.
“I brought Teddy.” She tottered over and placed the bear on the bedside table. Cara placed her rabbit beside it.
“Thank you, both of you.” I smiled wanly at them, embarrassment rolling off me in waves.
“That’s very kind of you, Erin, Cara. But you’re going to bed now.” Mrs Kendrew finished keeping her equipment and shooed them out of the room. At the door, she turned back and said, “Just rest. Sleep. I’ll call your mother… and the police.”
I stood. “No, I’m fine, Mrs Kendrew, there’s no need to call the police; I’ll walk home now.”
She frowned at me. “Clearly, you’re not thinking straight…”
“The chloroform didn’t addle my brain, Mrs Kendrew. I’m perfectly capable of walking home by myself.” As long as no one assaults me again, that is. I frowned.
She seemed to be thinking along the same lines. “It’s best if you stay put. Just in case… Someone’s attacked you before, after all.” My eyes flicked to Chris’s at this point. It was gratifying that he had the presence to look embarrassed. “And there may be complications. I’ll let your mother decide, alright?” She left the door open behind her.
“Wait…”
Chris stood up, stretching. “Well, you heard my mum: rest.”
“But I’ll dirty the…” Sheets. Crap. They were already dirty.
Chris folded his arms, eyes flashing. I stared at him. He stared back steadily. Then I sighed, slipping under the duvet. God, my stomach hurt so badly. Belatedly, I remembered the punch he’d dealt me nearing the end of the fight. I should have mentioned it to Mrs Kendrew.
He tugged the duvet up to my chin, then went out of the room.
I was floating in a dark, featureless landscape. There absolutely nothing of notable interest around me at all, unless one counted the swirling red mist that was obscuring whatever was in the distance. It smelled rather tangy and reminded me of the beach near my home. I reached out and the mist parted before me. Something moist… like a vapour. Then I had a sudden realisation that the substance was blood. With that, the mist coalesced to form a red raging river. The oddly gaseous liquid gushed around me; I was in the middle of a maelstrom.
I shut my eyes tight.
In my mind’s eye, I traced the river to its source. Flashes of light… a struggle… was that a dagger? Agonised emerald eyes… Rivulets of blood coursing down a pale face.
I shivered, wincing as my muscles protested against the movement. I felt sore all over. Then I heard a low murmur coming from behind me. Was I still dreaming?
“I’ll take over, mum. You’re taking the morning shift tomorrow, remember?”
“Well…”
“You need your sleep. I don’t.”
Then abruptly, the landscape darkened. A sense of foreboding washed over me.
The teenager transferred an indistinct wad of material to his injured hand and turned, stuffing it into the man’s hood. The latter’s grip on his left arm slackened, and in a few seconds, the man sprawled onto the ground.
Disentangling his arm, the teenager jumped away, gasping in pain and exertion. The man lay motionless on the ground. After a few seconds, the boy moved towards him cautiously and prodded the dead weight with his foot. In a fast blur, the man on the ground reached out, but the teenager had already jumped back a metre.
“Fast.” The man murmured groggily, turning to lie on his side. “He must have taught you well.”
“Who?” The teenager blurted before he could stop himself.
The man got to his feet slowly, advancing towards his quarry; the teenager backed away, turning away from his assailant.
“Wait.”
The boy hesitated.
“You know who he is. He’s…”
“You need…”
“I know how many hours of sleep I need. But I also know how many hours you need. Go to bed.”
A huge yawn. “You actually sound like Gran.”
Silence.
“Oh, fine. Just be careful. If there are any problems…”
Then everything morphed again.
The grey man stared at the shivering child standing in the clearing before him. Darkness framed his pale gaunt face as he smiled and gave an almost imperceptible signal.
A shadow detached itself from the coniferous trees as the grey man stepped into the clearing. “We meet again.” A ghost of a smile flickered across his face. The child froze. Then she saw no more as the shadow pressed a piece of cloth over her nose.
Chloroform. Again.
“I’ll wake you, I know, doctor. Goodnight – well, morning – then.”
Good morning? I blinked. The room was dark, the only source of light coming from the window before me. Why was there a window beside me?
“Night.” I heard a loud yawn and a soft click.
Blinking, I turned to look at the door. This obviously wasn’t my bedroom. Then my eyes focused on Chris’s back as he stood facing the closed door, and everything came back to me. The fight. The pain. Everything that’d transpired. Except… what had I been dreaming again?
“What’s the time?” I whispered.
Chris whipped his head around, startled. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”
“No, no you didn’t. How long…”
“It’s two o’ clock in the morning.”
“Two?” I sat up abruptly. Reflexively, my stomach clenched, and I bent forwards, trying not to groan out loud. Heck, I should have told Mrs Kendrew about the punch. I was aching all over; I felt as if I’d run an assault course ten times in a row.
He strode over to me, worry evident in his face. “Where does it hurt?”
“I’m fine.”
He looked at me sharply, not taken in by my answer one bit.
“Really.”
He frowned, assessing my condition. “Try not to sit up so fast next time,” he murmured, turning to the bedside table and switching on the lamp. It cast a cheery glow over the room. Then something else occurred to me.
“My parents…”
“Mum called your mother.” His voice had a slight edge to it.
“Oh,” I groaned. “She was livid, wasn’t she?” I rubbed the bridge of my nose. Ooh. I felt a stretch on my triceps. Well, at least I’d gain the muscles that I’d lost from a few months of inactivity.
“By the sounds of it, yes. She came over while you were asleep… she wanted to send you to the hospital. Mum had to assure her that everything was fine.”
He poured a glass of water and held it to my lips. Automatically, I reached for it with my right hand. Then I gasped, jerking backwards as pain shot up my arm. Water spilt onto my shirt.
“Sorry,” he mumbled.
“No, it’s my fault.” I reached for the glass with my left hand, then gulped the water down. “Thank you.”
He took the glass from me. “Still thirsty?” I was, but I shook my head. No sense increasing the chances of my going to the bathroom in the wee hours of the morning. He peered at me for a second. Then, shrugging, he placed the glass back onto the table and settled down in his chair.
“Aren’t you going to sleep?” He frowned as I began looking around the room.
I didn’t think I’d be able to sleep with him sitting an arm’s length away from me. “Not yet.”Suddenly feeling the overwhelming urge to explore the room, I threw off the covers and leapt onto the ground. Immediately, pain seared through me and I reeled forwards, swaying like a drunk. My vision turned dark momentarily. Ugh. Why did I feel so weak? I couldn’t have lost that much blood, could I? Wait a minute. I didn’t lose any blood. So why did I…
I felt a hand grip my left shoulder firmly. I tensed. That sent an iron bolt through my stomach.
“Sit down.”
I obeyed, resting my forehead on my fingertips. Abruptly, his hand left my shoulder. I felt him fidget. “You need some hot chocolate,” he muttered under his breath.
“No, thank you, I’m fine.”
“Fine?” His voice sounded really queer. I felt him scrutinise my face.
I stared at the floor, waiting for the blackness to dissipate. “Yes,” I said firmly. “Really. Don’t worry.”
“How can I not? I seem to recall that a stranger once tried to… I’m sorry,” he murmured ruefully. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it to my mum, but it seemed important somehow.”
I frowned. Wait a minute. It was important. “Their styles of attack were similar.”
He stilled. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. Though their approaches were very different.” I closed my eyes, trying to remember what had happened that day.
“This assailant didn’t use a dagger. Or at least I didn’t see one. So while the first was really trying to hurt me physically, this one was… trying to capture or kidnap me?”
“But why?” His eyes quested for an answer I could not give.
“I… I don’t know.” He looked so intense that I wanted to reach out and touch his face, to see worry drain away and surprise take its place. My hand trembled as I held it against the bed. I groaned inwardly. I couldn’t hold his gaze anymore; I made my eyes stray away from his. Come on, distract yourself. Don’t even think about… My eyes fell onto a few chairs behind a desk to the left of the door. Hmm. Interesting. Avant garde design. Cast stainless steel, probably. Powdered. With…
Inexorably, the silence between us pulled my mind back on track again. Ugh. I couldn’t even distract myself properly. I turned back to face him – only to find his fingers poised a centimetre from my cheek. I caught my breath. Don’t gasp. I stared at his trembling hand for a second, trying not to notice how long his fingers were. But the fact registered in my mind anyway.
Idiot. Stupid female hormones.
Trying not to grit my teeth, I looked beyond his hand. He seemed to have taken a step closer to me. I frowned slightly. I didn’t hear that. Perhaps he’d always been standing that close. Then my eyes fell upon his left hand. His long fingers were curled up slightly against his trousers. But as relaxed as his manner appeared to be, he seemed to be holding himself stiffly in place. I focussed on his right hand again. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his other hand clench, then unclench.
Unwittingly, I looked up, my cheek brushing against his fingertips in the process. I gasped. Just that light fleeting touch made me… Crap. I wasn’t even aware that I was holding my breath in the first place. What the hell was happening to me?
A soft sigh escaped from him. I looked up again, tilting my head backwards ever so slightly. His enigmatic eyes held mine effortlessly. I felt myself drifting closer and closer, till…
“Chris.”
I tore my gaze away from his. He stilled, embarrassment chasing away the surprise in his face. Then he straightened, turning around to face his father. Mr Kendrew was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, the perfect picture of nonchalance.
“Hello, Dad. Didn’t hear you knock on the door.”
Neither had I, for that matter. How long had he been there?
“I did. You just didn’t notice.” His eyes swept over us in amusement. But then his demeanour changed in a heartbeat.
In clipped tones, he said, “I’d like to talk to you, Chris. Please excuse us, Katherine.”
I blinked. That stirred something within me. What was it about his tone that reminded so much of… who? What?
He turned and moved away from the doorway. Chris moved to follow him out of the room. At the doorway, he paused and smiled faintly at me.
“Good night,” he murmured.
Then he closed it behind him.
The child blinked. The grey man smiled as she gasped.
“Welcome.” His smile widened, revealing perfect white teeth. “I think you’ll like it here very much.” He ruffled her soft downy hair.
The girl recoiled from his cold touch, backing away.
The grey man smiled. His eyes glinted. “Oh yes. I think you’ll love it here.” Then he advanced, and the girl fled towards the door.
“No.” I gasped. An unknown terror engulfed me and my muscles tensed involuntarily. I flinched. “No.” I sat up. Pain lanced through my stomach. Dang. Immediately, the moonlit room began to spin around me. Why was I dizzy? I put my left hand on my forehead.
And why was my face wet? I stared at my glistening hand. Then I realised that my whole body was shaking. I was sobbing. What the hell?
Then something nudged my right hand. Tensing, I looked down. Something white and very furry was rubbing against my hand, purring contentedly. What? Was that what I was so afraid of? A tiny kitten? I began to laugh hysterically. That only exacerbated the pain in my abdomen. Then abruptly, my tears began to overflow again.
Oh, what was wrong with me? The fight wasn’t that traumatic. Sure, I didn’t know if he’d attack me again, but what were the odds of another attack? There wasn’t a whole horde of muggers after me, was there? Perhaps there was. I gritted my teeth. Why’d I be their target, anyway? As I reflected on the past twenty-four hours, the kitten arched its back, pressing itself against my hand. How had it gotten in here? The window was shut tight. I smiled, picking it up as gently as I could. It looked so fragile. I could feel its tiny heart beating steadily against my hand.
It opened its mouth wide and revealed small, nonetheless deadly-looking teeth. I realised that it was yawning. Then, closing its mouth decidedly with a snap, it butted its nose against my palm. I couldn’t help but chuckle as I placed it back on the bed. Immediately, it meowed indignantly, puffing up its chest. Then it rolled over, exposing its belly.
I almost snorted, but then I remembered my injuries. “You asked for it.”
I began tickling the kitten. It squirmed, mewling loudly in protest. Then its body became rigid all of a sudden. I heard a faint rustling on my right. A groan.
Oh, crap.
The kitten cocked its ear and stood very still for a few seconds. Then it relaxed, plopping onto the bed and curling into a ball by my hand. I stared at it for a moment. Then it lifted its head a fraction and head-butted my hand again. I smothered a laugh and tickled its chin. It started to purr.
I smiled, looking around the room pensively. The darkness seemed to have added a layer of mystery to the walls. Somehow, they shone with a pale bluish glow under the moonlight.
Then I heard something on my right. I tensed, looking around. Chris was curled up awkwardly on a chair, with his face resting on his right knee. I groaned inwardly. Why couldn’t he just stop worrying? I studied him in the darkness. His expression was calm, serene, having lost the seriousness that he usually wore in the day. Then he shifted slightly and silvery moonlight spilled onto his face, throwing his features into stark contrast.
I caught my breath. He looked so… so… stunning. So beautiful. His pale skin glowed softly under the moonlight and his fair hair appeared almost pure white. He was absolutely striking, what with his perfectly straight nose and high delicate cheekbones.
I was suddenly gripped with an overpowering urge to touch his face. I wanted… I wanted to… Flipping heck. I gritted my teeth and turned away from him. What the hell was I thinking?
The kitten quivered under my hand, looking up at me with large blue eyes. It touched my palm with its tiny nose and squirmed out from under my hand. Then, with a loud meow, it hurled itself at Chris’s lap.
He stirred, eyes flickering open. He focussed on the bundle of fur that was attacking his hand and groaned.
“Snow? How did you get in…” Another groan. “You were hiding under the bed the whole time, weren’t you?”
“He was?” I glanced down to see the kitten nudging Chris’s hand. Automatically, he tickled its chin. It purred softly.
“Awake again?” He grumbled, running his hand through his already tousled hair. “Sorry. I’m always irritable when I get a rude awakening.” He rubbed his face, adding in an undertone, “Which you’re obviously adept at giving me, Snow.” He cupped the kitten in his hands as he stretched his legs. “It’s she, by the way. Found her trailing me back from school last week.”
“Oh.” No wonder Erin was pestering me to visit just now. Speaking of which… I found myself wondering what the hooded person had wanted again. To terrorise me? If that was the case, it was working. I shuddered as I recalled the battering he’d given me. No. What was the point in frightening me, anyway? To mug me? Well, he didn’t even ask for my money. That’s what muggers do… right?
The kitten jumped onto the bed again. I started slightly, blinking. Snow morphed into a white blob in the darkness. What? Was I still crying? She pawed at my splinter, edging in for a sniff. Apparently, she found the smell of the dressing not at all to her liking. I chuckled again. Then I sniffed. Oh, great.
“You’re crying?” Chris started in his seat and stared at me in concern.
“No, I…” Am not crying? That would be stretching the definition of ‘not crying’ a little bit too much. Wouldn’t it?
“Please tell me I’m dreaming,” Chris muttered, kneading his forehead wearily. I stared at him.
Snow meowed.
I laughed, ruffling the kitten’s fur. Now she shied away from me, burrowing herself into Chris’s hands. He scratched behind her ears skilfully, eliciting a contented meow.
“Why Snow?” I asked, changing the topic. I gazed at the kitten.
I sensed him look up at me. “It seemed like it was going to snow that day.” He was still playing with the kitten.
“And because she’s white and fluffy too?”
“Yes. That too.” He seemed slightly embarrassed.
“Nice name. It’s befitting.”
I reached out and scratched behind her ears. She meowed, staring up at me intently. Then, seemingly satisfied, she leapt over to my left and curled up into a ball, snuggling into the duvet.
“Convenient,” I commented drily.
Chris sighed. He got up, stretching. Then he reached over and tried to coax Snow into leaving her new bed. She didn’t budge a millimetre.
“Snow.” He was really annoyed now. The kitten opened an eye languidly, then moved beyond his reach. Chris sighed.
I laughed, then winced. I really needed to get used to my injuries. “I think she enjoys riling you.”
“She enjoys riling every one. Even mum threatened to cast her out.”
“Wow. That must have been quite serious.”
He shrugged.
“So what did your father say to you when he…”
“Please. Please don’t remind me of his words.”His expression alternated between embarrassment and disgust.
Laughter spilled out of me before I could force my mirth back down my throat.
He appraised me in the semi-darkness. “You’re still crying.”
“I am?” In that instant, an echo of the fear I’d felt just now stirred within me. I shivered. What was with this irrational fear? I disguised my sob as a shudder.
He wasn’t fooled. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I rubbed my face. What the… I was really crying again? This realisation made the tears flow harder. Was I crying because of yesterday? Was this some kind of symptom of posttraumatic stress disorder? No, it couldn’t be. It was only a fight; I’ve been in more serious ones before, when I was so young that I couldn’t recall what had happened.
What was this then – some alien form of catharsis?
I curled into a ball, burying my face into my knees. I was suddenly hit by a pang of homesickness.
A creak.
Visions of verdant undulating hills assailed me. I almost caught a whiff of the tangy sea breeze I’d missed so much. I remembered playing on the beach with my neighbours, walking in the forest with my brother, building a wooden shelf with my father… How I wanted to return to that quaint little cottage I’d lived in. I wanted to… I wanted…
Every part of me ached.
Another creak.
This time I raised my head slightly. Creeks. I laughed. It came out sounding like a muffled sob. Oh, what was happening to me?
Then I became aware of Chris sitting beside me. I tensed. He glanced down at me, frowning slightly.
I wiped my tears away. Now I felt even worse; he must think that I was a weak, helpless female. The last bit irked me most, for some bizarre reason.
“Katherine,” he murmured. I met his gaze, then looked away. Heck. My heart twisted again as I looked into his eyes. They were so mesmerising. Warm with concern, yet cool at the same time, they were a beautiful shade of blue in the darkness. And there was something in them that I’d never seen before. Something that made me feel… Abruptly, I looked towards the window, pretending to be interested in what was outside. Heck. How could I still feel what was I feeling after getting battered? “Sorry,” I whispered, dashing away my tears. Gosh. I’ve never cried like this. I don’t cry. Especially not in front of an audience. Was this a bout of depression? Hormonal imbalance?
I shivered.
Warmth surrounded me as Chris pulled me close to him. I tensed, acutely aware of his arm wrapped around my shoulders, of his body pressed against my side, of his face just inches above mine. He peered down at me. I averted my eyes and began staring woodenly at my splint-reinforced arm. An alien pain arose inside my chest, demanding that I do something. But I did not heed its call.
Heat built up between us.
The silence was almost palpable. I felt it throbbing against my mind.
Then out of the blue, he murmured, “He pulled your arm behind you, didn’t he?”
I looked at him in the darkness. His expression had a thoughtful air to it.
“Trying to figure out what happened?” I was glad to find that my voice was sounding almost normal now.
He raised an eyebrow. “Feeling evasive today?”
I shrugged and winced. “Come to think of it, yes.”
The edge of his lips curled upwards. Then without any warning at all, he reached over and slowly, ever so gently, brushed a tear off my cheek. I tensed. His touch left a burning trail in its wake. I realised that I was holding my breath. I waited for disgust to overwhelm me.
It did not.
What I felt in its place made me gasp.
He looked at me closely. “Are you blushing?”
“I… You can tell in this light?” Oh great. My voice sounded an octave higher now.
“No.” He frowned. “But you seem embarrassed. And your face is…”
He brushed another tear away. “Definitely warmer,” he murmured. Mischief danced in his eyes as he smiled tentatively at me.
I knew for sure that I was blushing now. I turned away from him, mortified at what I was feeling. Ugh. Where was the disgust when you needed it?
-
I really hope there aren’t any typos.
From the next chapter…
“But karate’s not about attacking…”
He looked at me coolly. “Is it?”
“Yes and no. It’s also about defending…”
“Exactly my point. You need to learn to attack too.”
