If he ever came back? Why would he? What was here for him?
A little boy who had yet to call him Uncle? A boy who needed a man in his life?
A feminine laugh floated down the hall from the direction in which Karina had disappeared. Okay, there might be another attraction, but he couldn’t change his life plan for a woman.
‘Life plan? More of a total stuff-up.’
‘Sorry?’
He’d forgotten David was still standing there, looking hopeful and resigned all at once. ‘Talking to myself. Not a good look.’
‘I guess you’ve got a lot to sort out at the moment, without me dumping the surgery problems on your shoulders. We can have a chat in a few days.’ Then he looked worried. ‘You will be here for a while, right?’
‘Right.’
Exactly how long was ‘a while’? This was another round of questions he wasn’t dealing with very well. Harmless enquiries and yet they ratcheted up the tightness in his arm muscles, in his chest.
Glancing around, he saw people in the office, the waiting room, the hall: all innocent of anything but normality. Normality he struggled to fit into. By the toy box in the waiting room a toddler lunged for a wooden truck and shrieked at the top of his lungs.
Logan knew that the ear-piercing, gut-tearing sound came from the little boy. Knew it. But somewhere in his head he was hearing one of his fellow hostages as she was beaten, screaming her fear and rage and pain.
That same fear, rage and pain thumped at his temples.
Suddenly he was so tired he could barely stay upright. Exhaustion gripped him, drained his body of every drop of energy. Exhaustion that sleep would not fix. Only exercise might.
It was happening again. He couldn’t blame jet lag. That might be compounding the debilitated state he found himself in, but it wasn’t the cause. That remained back in Africa. In the form of dangerous men armed with machine guns and the inability to listen to reason. Men who thought the quickest way to riches was holding innocent people to ransom.
‘Are you all right?’
David was staring at him with that same wary look he’d seen in his colleagues’ eyes all too often since he’d been freed.
‘I’m fine.’ His voice rasped with tension. ‘I need some fresh air. Tell Karina I’ve gone for a walk, will you?’
Tell her I’m sorry I’m leaving Mickey with her while she has to work. Tell her I apologise for coming here before I’d managed to quash the demons lurking in my skull.
He ran for the door.
CHAPTER FOUR
KARINA ROLLED OVER in bed and held her breath. Something had woken her. But what? The house creaked as usual, but otherwise everything seemed quiet. She must have been imagining things. Punching her pillow into shape, she curled up on her side and closed her eyes.
There it was again. A low moan—followed by a cry.
Slipping out from under the warm bedcovers, she shoved her feet into slippers and pushed her arms into her thick robe. Out in the hallway she listened for a minute but heard nothing. Had Mickey called out? Carefully opening his door, she checked him over but he was sound asleep.
Karina returned to her room as a cry cut through the quiet, lifting the hairs on her neck. It came from further down the hall. Logan? Had he fallen and hurt himself?
Outside his door, she hesitated. If the noise hadn’t come from in there, she’d look a right idiot, bursting in and waking him. Leaning her ear to the door, she heard mutterings from the other side. It sounded as though the man talked in his sleep. She smiled. Who knew what she might learn if she felt inclined to listen in? Straightening up, she began to turn away. There was still that noise to check out.
‘Don’t touch me, you pig!’ Logan shouted.
At least she presumed it was Logan, even though his voice was pitched higher than usual and filled with hate. Was that fear in those words? It sounded as if he needed help. What if someone else was in the room, attacking him?
Flinging the door wide, she flicked the light on and stared around the room. Nobody but Logan. He lay sprawled across the bed, the sheets wound around his legs, his arms thrashing against the mattress at either side of his hips. His skin glistened with sweat, and yet he was shivering. His eyes were wide, staring at the ceiling, then at her, then cruising the walls. Back to her. Not seeing her or seeing anything. As though he didn’t know where he was.
‘Who are you? Get out of my hut.’
Oh, my God, he’s having a nightmare.
Wary of those flailing arms, she reached to touch his shoulder. ‘Logan. Wake up. Logan. You’re having a bad dream.’
She shook him gently. His arm swung up and out. Karina stepped back, felt his fist graze her thigh. This time she snatched at his arm, held it tight against her body, shook him as gently as possible.
‘Logan. Wake up. It’s Karina. You’re in Motueka. You are safe.’
Was this the right thing to do? Should she be trying to bring him round more slowly? But how?
‘Did you say Karina?’ Logan blinked at her. Then looked around the room, tried to peer past her. ‘Where did you say I am?’
‘You’re at James’s home. Remember? Where Mickey lives.’
In her tight grip his arm began relaxing, the tension slowly ebbing away as reality dawned in those gunmetal-grey eyes.
He said nothing, continued to stare at her, not quite believing her.
‘Motueka. Mickey, Karina.’ She enunciated slowly, clearly, hoping the significance of those words would reach him.
Did this have anything to do with his sudden mood change that afternoon? David had told her Logan had become agitated and taken off for a fast walk. When she’d asked him about it later he’d fobbed her off with some nonsense about needing fresh air. As if the air in the back yard where he’d been playing with Mickey had been stale and old?
Lowering his arm to his side, she spoke quietly, so as not to disturb him unduly. ‘Logan, I’m going to cover you with the quilt. It’s freezing in here and you’ve got goosebumps on your arms.’
He also had scars on his chest and his ribs were too close to the surface. Not enough muscle or fat covered him. As if he’d been ill. What had the nightmare been about? Was it linked to the state of his body? What would he do if she gave in to the need to hug him to her? To kiss away that pain darkening his eyes to the colour of cold slate? If she ran her fingertips over those purple lines on his skin, would he yell at her?
Carefully keeping an eye on him, in case he hadn’t completely returned to wakefulness, she retrieved the quilt from the floor and covered him right up to his chin. ‘There you go
. I’ll flick the electric blanket on for a bit. It’ll warm you faster.’
* * *
Logan wanted to curl up and die—or at least to hide under that quilt so Karina never saw his face again. He’d just blown everything. She’d never leave Mickey with him now. Not even for five minutes. She’d think he was a veritable nutcase, and she’d be right.
But hiding was pointless. She’d seen too much already. Next the questions would start. Why? When? How often did these nightmares occur? Questions he’d never answer. The shrink had told him they were part of the process and to accept them—to talk about them, even. Eventually they’d stop.
Eventually couldn’t come soon enough. He was adamant he wouldn’t talk about them. Especially not to Karina.
Slowly he raised his eyes to her face and saw nothing but concern glittering out at him. Concern for him? He did not want that, so he went on the attack and grabbed her hand. ‘Did I yell out?’
She nodded. ‘A couple of times.’ Bending down, she fluffed around at the side of the bed until he heard the switch for the blanket click on. ‘Don’t worry about it. I always sleep with one ear open, listening for Mickey.’
‘You didn’t need to come into my room. I’m not exactly a child.’
He was upsetting her, but how else to divert those questions that must be burning her up?
Her usually open countenance shut down, and her concern was withdrawn as her face tightened. ‘I came in here because I thought maybe you’d fallen and needed help. That’s all.’
‘Can you turn the light off?’ He dropped her hand as quickly as he’d caught it.
‘Sure.’
The dark held all kinds of terrors but he needed to hide his eyes from her all-seeing gaze. Thankfully even with the light off the room was still partially lit from the hallway. Perfect, really. Half-light kept the demons at bay and saved what was left of his pride.
Karina asked from the doorway, ‘Want a cup of tea?’
‘No. Thanks.’
‘I’m going to make one for myself.’
‘Karina—’ His tongue flicked across his lips. ‘I apologise for any inconvenience.’ He looked at the wall on the other side of the room. ‘I don’t know what happened.’