Angel's Kiss (22 page)

Mummy was crying and it got louder — she must be close to the box — and then it slowly went away. I heard the
creak, creak, creak
of the stairs. Everything was quiet again. Where was Mummy? Where was Daddy?

I banged on the lid again. “Please, let me out!”

I cried because I couldn’t hold on any longer and I wet myself. Mummy would be very angry with me. It smelled yucky and I couldn’t breathe properly. I coughed and coughed and put the blankies over my face to hide the smell. I was hungry and thirsty and didn’t like being wet. It made me feel dirty.

Dirty girl, dirty girl, wets her pants, ha-ha-ha!

Mean boys always picking on me. I don’t like them.
I want my Mummy!

I cried until I went to sleep again.

Something kicked the box.

“Mummy?” I called out, but my voice sounded small.

“Did you hear something?”

Another stranger.
Shh, mustn’t let the stranger hear me
.

“It came from over here, under this pile of blankets.”

Mummy had put the blankies back on the box. That’s why I couldn’t open the lid. But why would she do that?

The lid opened and the light was bright, even through the blankies. I stayed very still and quiet. Maybe they would go away.

“Jeez. This stinks worse than the body on the floor. Must be another one. Call for another body bag, will you?”

The blankies were pulled off my face and the light hurt my eyes. I screamed, and the man jumped back.

“
Fuck,
she’s still alive!” the man yelled. He was very surprised, and I was very scared. “Well, don’t just stand there, call an ambulance!”

He lifted me out of the box and I tried to kick him, but the smelly wet blankies were wrapped tightly around my body. I wriggled in his arms, trying to get free, and saw a big dark red puddle on the floor, under Daddy’s head.

“Why is Daddy red?” I whispered.

“He’s dead, hon, your dad is dead.”

“Helena,” Danny said, shaking me, “wake up. You’re having a nightmare.”

I struggled in his grip, hitting his chest with my fists and weeping uncontrollably. He pulled me closer to him and wrapped his arms around my shaking body.

“It’s okay, Helena,” he whispered. “Everything will be okay. It was just a bad dream. Here, take this.”

Danny handed me a handkerchief and I wiped my eyes and nose, still shaking in his arms.

“It was horrible, Danny. I relived what had happened, every single moment. I heard my Dad being murdered and my Mum being dragged away. I saw his body when the cops found me. All this time I thought they’d abandoned me, that I was just a problem child.”

“That probably explains why blood made you queasy up until recently.”

“I guess. I remember they said my Dad had been dead for at least twenty-four hours, so I had to have been in that box for somewhere between thirty to forty hours. No wonder I hate confined spaces, but that’s not the worst of it …” I whispered.

“What do you mean? Danny asked.

“It’s like a key to the past has been unlocked. All these other memories came flooding back as well.”

I looked at the hanky and cried again. Danny just continued to hold me and it was a great comfort. He didn’t push me with any questions, didn’t try to rip the memories from me. He was happy to let me decide when I was ready to talk about it.

“It all started the night I was put in that box. I was in a hospital for a while, and then fostered out to a few different homes. No one could handle me.”

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Danny said.

“No, I want to. I think it’ll be good therapy to get it out in the open and confront it. Lord knows, the little therapy I had as a kid didn’t work.” I took a deep breath and continued. “The last family I was placed with really was a
last-chance
family. They knew it and I knew it. If I stuffed up I’d be sent to an institution and locked in a room every night — another box, though probably a larger one. That house was where the abuse began. That’s when, at the age of eight, I had to start
earning my keep
.” I shuddered.

“Don’t say any more,” Danny whispered.

I ignored him and continued talking. “It wasn’t just
him,
it was their
friends
. They were very careful not to leave any bruises or marks that might raise an alarm, and they hung a sign on the back of my bedroom door that said
Welcome to the last chance hotel
. It was to remind me of what awaited me if welfare services took me back.”

“Stop,
please,
” Danny implored.

I looked at his face. He wasn’t crying, yet I could see the pain in his eyes, and his brow was creased in anguish. I stroked his cheek. Why was I always so selfish around him?

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I shouldn’t have dumped all of that on you.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. It pains me that mortals, one of His
favoured
creations, can do this to each other. I don’t understand it at all.”

I gently kissed his cheek. “Neither do I.”

“Do you think you’re up to a trip to the city?” Danny asked. “We can go another time.”

“No, I’ll be fine. It’ll be a nice change for me. The last thing I want to do is sit around and dwell on things. Just let me get changed and we can be off.”

Danny kissed my forehead, disentangled himself from the blankets that had somehow wrapped themselves around him, and left the room. If our roles were reversed I probably would have stayed in the room while he changed. I guess that was the difference between us — he was a gentleman and I was a tramp.

I slipped into casual gear, picked up the overnight bag — it was bursting at the seams — and headed towards the living area. Normally a bag of this size would’ve been difficult for me to carry, but I managed it with ease. Being stronger was a real plus!

Danny laughed when he saw my bag. “What’s the saying I’ve heard mortals use?”

I knew exactly what he meant. “Do you mean about taking everything but the kitchen sink?”

“Yes, that’s it. If we had a sink in the kitchen you’d probably have packed it as well!”

“I could always get the basin from the bathroom,” I warned him.

He shook his head, laughing, and raised his hands in mock defeat. When I smiled back at him he dropped his hands to his side.

“How do you feel about trying to transport us to where we want to go?” Danny asked.

“I don’t know how to do it.”

“I’ll provide some guidance. You remember the La’miere Hotel?”

I nodded my head. I had frequented the La’miere a lot before the preacher claimed ownership of my body. Danny would have known, from my memories, that I’d been there on numerous occasions.

“How do you feel about ending up in an elevator again?” he asked. “Don’t worry. I’ll be with you and the power will be on. It won’t be dark.”

“I … I don’t know. What if I panic?” The thought of being back in a box still scared the shit out of me.

“If you panic I’ll get you out of there straight away, I promise,” Danny said, reassuringly.

I sighed.
Gotta get back on the old horse, Helena.

“Okay, what do I need to do?”

“Give me that bag first.”

I handed the bag over to Danny and he slung it over his shoulder. He held out both his hands and I took them, no questions asked.

“Think of an empty elevator at the La’miere and
will
us there. Close your eyes if it helps you to concentrate.”

I closed my eyes and thought about the La’miere and how I’d travelled in the elevators many times, always with a companion on my way up, but on my own on the way down. It was the nature of my work.

“We’re here,” Danny said.

I opened my eyes and we were in an elevator with soft lighting. Danny pressed the ground button, and my stomach lurched as we made the descent. When the doors opened we stepped out and Danny stood to one side.

“I’ll wait here,” he said. “The reservation is under the name of Mr and Mrs Dan Malakh.”

“Malakh — that’s an unusual name. Is there any significance?” I asked.

“Roughly translated in English it means
messenger angel
. I thought it sounded more acceptable than Mr and Mrs Angel,” he chuckled.

I laughed and kissed him on the cheek. “
You’re funny
.”

16.
City Sights

I headed to the front desk and drummed my fingers on the counter. When the man on the other side looked up I said, “Hi, I have a reservation for Malakh.”

He typed the name into the computer and scanned what came up on the screen.

“Yes, Mrs Malakh, here we are. The penthouse suite.”

He doesn’t do things in half measures,
I thought.

The room was already paid for —
that figures
— and when I’d signed in the clerk handed me a card to access the room.

“Do you require any help with your bags, Mrs Malakh?” he enquired.

“No, my husband,” I pointed to Danny, who was waiting for me near the elevator, “has it all taken care of.”

“Enjoy your stay, Mrs Malakh.”

“Thank you, I’m sure we will.”

I forced myself to walk slowly back to Danny. Inside I was dying to see the penthouse suite. It was probably the only room in this hotel I hadn’t been in.

Danny pressed the button to call the elevator as I reached his side.

“The penthouse suite,
Mr Malakh?
” I whispered with a smile.

He grinned. “Only the best for you,
Mrs Malakh
.”

The penthouse suite was huge. Easily three times the size of the cottage. The bathroom alone was as big as the cottage. I saw the shower, a monstrous affair with rosettes at each end, and thought about how long it’d been since I last had one.

“Come and take a look at this,” I called out to Danny.

He walked to the bathroom door and, not paying attention to what I was pointing at, said, “That’s certainly some big bath.”

He’d seen the four-person spa bath. Maybe he’d never had a spa.

“No, silly,” I laughed. “Take a look at the shower. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had a shower?”

He shook his head.

“Since about a week before I met you, a lifetime ago.”

“That long, hey?” he chuckled.

“Oh, Danny, I’d
really
like to take a shower before we head out to see the sights. Come and try it.”

“I’ve never had one before. I’ve been caught in rain showers, but I’ve never bathed in one of these things.”

I pulled him into the bathroom and shut the door.

“Trust me, you’ll enjoy it.”

I turned on both showers and when the room was hot and steamy, stripped off, my back to Danny. I stepped into the shower and shivered with delight. It was lovely and hot, and the pressure was fantastic, massaging needles on my neck and back.

“Come in, Danny,” I called out.

I heard the shower door open and close, and his arms wrapped around me.

“Turn around,” I told him. “Let me wash your back.”

He turned around and I ran the soap up and down the length of his back. When he was sufficiently lathered I popped the soap back in its dish and began to slowly massage his back, kneading the muscles in a circular motion as my hands worked their way downward. When I reached the area below the lumbar spine, Danny’s glutes tightened expectantly. I turned him slightly, so the water ran down his back, and washed away the remaining soapsuds. From this angle I could tell that he’d enjoyed the massage.

I smiled. “My turn now.”

I gathered my hair in both hands, twisted it around a couple of times, then draped it over my shoulder. I turned my back to Danny and shivered at the thought of his hands on my body.

He picked up the soap and lathered my back quickly. The soap slipped out of his hands and he made no effort to retrieve it. To do so would have broken the spell that bound us together by these simple acts we were performing.

Danny’s hands, warm and strong, massaged my back gently. I could feel knots being worked out and sighed. I felt his lips brush my nape. My body tingled and ached at the same time. His hands caressed my body and his lips continued to kiss my neck.
Why does everyone seem to be preoccupied with my neck?

“I never realised how many times your neck has been bitten,” he murmured in my ear as he gently nibbled the lobe.

It was hard to concentrate on anything else.

“How can you tell, there are no visible marks?” I asked.

“I can sense them.”

“Sometimes it’s easier to bare your neck, be bitten, and let them think they have a fighting chance,” I purred.