The Devil Inside, page 6
Sickly sweat started pricking his skin again.
Fuck. He had to get a hold of himself, although, the way he usually did that was stripped from him right now.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
He was glad Dae and Craig hadn’t been here to witness this. And he sure as hell didn’t want Mel to see him weak and trembling. She needed him to be strong.
He slowly loosened his death grip on the basin and stood straight. He was fine. There was nothing wrong. He was just a bit overwhelmed and his parents were arseholes.
He just needed to push their words aside as he’d done for years and sit down and play. Everything would be fine if he could do that. He just had to start.
He walked out of the bathroom and back to the studio. Where had his sticks rolled to? Didn’t matter. He’d find them later. He took a couple of deep breaths and picked up another pair before turning to face the kit.
The room zoomed in then out. His sticks fell to the floor. He couldn’t move. His heart thundered in his chest, a pulsing rhythm that laughed at him.
Can’t play. Can’t play. Can’t drum. Can’t drum. Useless. Useless.
Useless!
He lurched back, hands to his head, covering his ears, trying to block out the words. But it didn’t work. They were coming from inside. Speaking a truth he couldn’t deny.
He couldn’t play the drums.
He couldn’t play the drums.
What the fuck was he going to do now?
He ran out of the room, away from the kit, away from his failure, practically falling down the stairs, running through the lounge area and out the door that led outside. He needed air.
He burst outside and kept running, down the hill, stumbling, catching himself against the wall of the Barn House, leaning against it as he stared out at the rolling fields, his breaths raw cuts in his lungs, his legs and arms shaking.
Every thought in his head angled down to two sharp, cutting thoughts.
He was a drummer who couldn’t drum. He was a husband without a wife.
His mother was right.
‘You right, mate?’
He turned to see one of the hands—Tony—standing near the garage door wiping his hands on a cloth. ‘Yeah. Fine. Just looking at the view.’
Tony glanced out at the view and then back at him. ‘You don’t look so good. Do you need me to call Bev?’
‘No. No. I’m fine.’ He pushed away from the wall. ‘I think I’ll just go for a walk in the garden.’
As he walked away, he felt Tony’s eyes on him until he’d rounded the other side of the Barn House. Shit, he hoped the man didn’t tell anyone about this. They’d want to know what was wrong and he couldn’t, just couldn’t tell them he couldn’t drum.
Chapter 6
Melissa hadn’t slept well. She’d had a night full of dreams and nightmares that left her feeling bereft and sad on wakening. Prof Alan said they were caused by anxiety. No shit, Sherlock. He also said that they would most likely start to fade when she got back to Storm Haven and started getting involved with her old life.
Even though she couldn’t remember Storm Haven, part of her wanted to get out of here and go there more than anything else, but part of her was scared witless every time she thought of it. Once there, she could no longer try to pretend that Phil and Arwen weren’t truly a part of her life. They would be with her twenty-four-seven. No escaping that. At least here, Phil went home at the end of most days and there were large parts of the day where he was off doing things with Arwen. Maybe when they were back at Storm Haven, he would leave her to her own devices. He’d be caring for Arwen and the band had an album to finish. He’d be busy. She wouldn’t have to spend all that time with him, getting to know him, figuring out why she had fallen in love with him in the first place.
‘Melissa. Are you ready?’ Jerry asked as he sailed into the room, a bright smile on his handsome face.
‘Are you here to take me home?’
‘No, honey. Phil will be coming in to get you.’ He grabbed the bag that had been tucked under the desk, opened the wardrobe and started to pull out the clothes that had been brought in for her to wear as she progressed with her various therapies. ‘I’ve just come in to make sure everything is packed and ready and all the Is and Ts are dotted and crossed. Then I’ve got a few things to do in town. But I’ll be back out at Storm Haven by the time you get there.’
‘Good. Thank you.’ She was so thankful Phil had employed Jerry to look after her at Storm Haven and here in the hospital. Lexi and Bev called him a godsend.
Apparently, there’d been another nurse, Gavin, who’d looked after Cat when Lexi had brought her to Storm Haven last year. But Gavin had suddenly left without warning soon after Melissa’s accident. According to Phil, everyone had been upset about his sudden departure because he wasn’t the kind of person who would just up and leave without notice. When she’d asked him why he was telling her any of that, he’d told her that he thought maybe hearing about Gavin—who she’d been friends with, having spent time with him when he was looking after Cat—might jog her memories.
It didn’t.
She couldn’t remember any of them—Cat or Billy or Gavin or what had happened. Thankfully, she didn’t have to worry about fitting them all into place because Billy and Cat were currently staying with Craig and Billy’s parents while Cat did some intensive therapy with her psychiatrist, and, as Phil said, Gavin was gone.
But they had Jerry, and as far as she was concerned, he was better than any mysteriously disappearing Gavin could have been. Surely Gavin wouldn’t have taken such care packing her things? Or spent time outside his shifts with her. He was the best. Not just a nurse, he was becoming a friend.
‘You said Phil is picking me up? Where is he?’
‘He’s picking some things up for the baby. He shouldn’t be too far behind me.’
The baby. Waves of sadness washed over her. She’d seen Arwen every day but still hadn’t done more than look at her. Despite the scar on her lower abdomen, she still couldn’t come to terms with the fact the baby was hers. Hers and Phil’s.
It was just … There was just … that ball of panic every time she saw them together. She didn’t know why, other than something didn’t feel right. They weren’t lying to her—she knew that. She did—but still, something in her pushed against the fact that they were hers. Being close to people only brought pain. She’d learned that lesson well from her parents. So why had she given up that hard-won lesson and welcomed Phil and his bandmates into her life? Why had she agreed to having a baby? None of it felt like her.
Her head began to throb.
She pushed her breakfast tray away and hopped out of bed. A shower might help to rinse this feeling away.
As she grabbed a fresh t-shirt, yoga pants, bra and undies, Jerry turned to her. ‘Now, remember you’ve got those last tests to pass this morning. If the numbers on them are fine—and there’s no reason to believe they won’t be given how well you’ve done—you’ll just have some paperwork to sign and then can be out of here.’
‘Great.’ She took a few steps towards the bathroom.
‘Oh, but don’t forget, Alan does want to see you one more time before you go.’
‘I hadn’t forgotten.’
‘Of course not. Apart from losing the last eight years, you’ve got a memory like a steel trap.’
She couldn’t stop her lips from twitching. ‘Damn right.’
Jerry chuckled. ‘There, that’s better than that storm cloud you were wearing on your face a moment ago.’
‘Idiot,’ she said, snorting, then closed herself in the bathroom.
She was actually looking forward to seeing Prof Alan this morning. She’d had some progress with her journal after he’d suggested she draw what she was seeing in her dreams and nightmares rather than write. She had quite a bit to show him. She only hoped Prof Alan came in before Phil got here, because she didn’t want him to see the copious drawings she’d made of him and Arwen. They were too intimate. Too personal. And maybe he’d get the wrong idea. She didn’t want to hurt him more than he already was, but she wasn’t ready to be his wife, even though she was coming to like him. A lot. More than she’d ever expected to.
Even so, he didn’t need to know just how many drawings she’d done of him. Way too embarrassing.
She shucked off the PJs, hanging them with her clothes on the back of the door, and soon had the shower hot enough to feel like it would scour her skin—just the way she liked it to wash away the tension.
She grabbed the soap Bev had brought in for her and began to wash herself down.
Her fingers halted on the ugly scar just above her pubic hair. Her hands hovered over it, shaking, just the way they had on the day she’d first seen it. She forced herself to look away and ran the soap over the scar then down her legs.
She’d put on a little weight in the last few weeks, her muscles gaining back some of their shape. She still had a ways to go, but the physical therapists at the hospital were pleased with her progress. Apparently, before he left, Billy had created a ‘coma workout’ that Phil, Jerry and Bev had used diligently while she was in the coma. It was part of the reason her recovery was progressing so well.
She was so lucky to have had the care she’d been given. Phil really had done everything humanly possible to give her the best. She needed to make sure she thanked him for that. And thanked Craig, Dae, Lexi and Bev. Although, that felt a little harder.
They’d all been in every day. They were so kind and well-intentioned, but she cringed every time they visited because she felt like she was letting them down in some way, not remembering them. But most especially because of how Phil was when they visited. His hungry gaze pinned on her, wanting, waiting for something she might never be able to give him. He seemed so sad, so lost, and she knew it was all because of her. The pressure of it all gave her a constant nagging headache and there were times she just wanted to scream at all these well-intentioned, worried people to go to hell and leave her alone. But of course, she couldn’t.
Oh good lord, was this bitter person inside her head really her? She couldn’t remember ever having been so depressingly awful and negative, and yet, all she felt at the moment was depressingly awful and negative. And bitter. It was absolutely maddening. As was the way her thoughts jumped around like this. If she didn’t pull them together, she wouldn’t score well and they’d keep her in for another day.
And no matter how nervous she was about going to Storm Haven, she wanted to stay in this hospital even less.
She finished washing herself and grabbed the big fluffy towel Phil had brought in for her so she didn’t have to use the scratchy hospital ones. It was so thoughtful of him. She wished that didn’t make her a little sad.
Sighing, she wrapped it around herself and began her after-shower routine—apparently unchanged in the last eight years given the creams and deodorant and even toothpaste was the same as she’d always used.
She finger-combed her horribly short hair—a victim of multiple surgeries. It had grown back a bit over the last few months, but it was nothing close to the lush waves that had fallen down to below her shoulder blades. When Phil had come in and found her crying over the loss, he’d immediately organised for a hairdresser to tidy it up into a pixie-ish cut that highlighted her natural curls.
She still hated it, but somehow, every time she looked at it now, it made her smile and finger one of those curls.
Running her hands through it now, shaping it, she couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have Phil run his hands through the silken strands.
She blinked at the thought and turned from the mirror abruptly, stuffing her toiletries into the toiletries bag as she tried to ignore the tingles that had chased over her.
When she walked out of the bathroom Jerry was gone, so she put the toiletries bag in the suitcase that was still open on the bed.
‘Did you hear about the body that was found down near old Clarke’s shearing shed?’ She looked over her shoulder. Two nurses were stocking up a trolley from the cupboard opposite her partially open door.
‘I know, it’s awful. Someone said it was Martin.’
‘How could they tell? Besides, didn’t he move to the city?’
‘That’s what I heard.’
Martin.
The reporter who’d accosted her had been wearing a name badge that said ‘Martin’. Surely a coincidence?
‘I heard the body was caught up on some exposed tree roots in the river. Diane told me all the skin was burned off it. And his hands and feet were missing.’
‘You burned him and took his feet and hands.’
The voice echoed in her mind, words swirling around, repeating over and over. She clutched the bed frame, closed her eyes as the room swayed around her. When she opened her eyes, it was to see that the nurses had moved on. She swiped at the sweat on her face, wondering if she should tell someone about what had just happened. She turned to reach for the call button and stopped.
There was a woman sitting on the bed.
She jerked back, gasping. ‘Who are you? What are you doing in my room?’
The woman didn’t look up from what she was staring at in her lap, her dark green dress spread over the deep burnt-orange of the bed covering.
Wait. What?
She looked around. This wasn’t the hospital room. There was lush red wallpaper on the walls with the imprint of some curly design on it made for fingers to touch. Cream curtains fluttered at the wide window, letting the barred sun shine across the array of books scattered around the woman as she sat, cross-legged, in the middle of the double bed. The woman flipped a page, stopped, stroking her finger over an image here, and another there.
Melissa took a cautious step forward. It was a photo album. As were the other books on the bed. Not photo albums she’d ever seen before. ‘Chem ty zanimayesh’sya, Mamochka?’ Her lips moved around the same strange language the woman was whispering, but she understood what she was saying. What are you doing, mama?
The woman looked up with a start. Tears flooded her cheeks, but she smiled and reached out a hand. ‘Kem, Solnyshkuh. Mamochka nuzhono obnyat.’ Come, Sunshine. Mama needs a hug.
‘Here we are.’ Melissa whipped around as Jerry pushed a crib into the room. ‘All dressed and ready to go.’
‘What?’ Melissa turned back to the bed. The woman was gone.
Fingers digging into the bed frame, she took in the empty hospital bed, the sterile cream walls and plain window with its dull curtains. A dream. She’d had a dream? But she was awake. Maybe it was a memory. But that wasn’t one of her memories. It had been too much like some of the strange dreams and nightmares she’d been having. The woman was the same one who kept appearing in her dreams. What the hell were these things she kept seeing?
‘Are you feeling okay, Melissa?’
She glanced at Jerry. He’d stopped on the other side of the bed with the crib, his worried gaze on her.
‘I’m fine. Just stood up too fast.’
Jerry hurried to her side and helped her to sit on the bed. ‘Perhaps you should lie down for a bit. I’ll just go and get the blood pressure cuff and make sure everything’s okay.’
‘No. I’m fine, really. I’m feeling better already. I think maybe I just had the shower too hot.’ She smiled brightly at him.
Jerry looked at her steadily. ‘I still think I’ll check. The doctor will want a reading anyway before you leave.’
‘Fine.’ Her gaze landed on the crib beside the bed. ‘Wait!’ she said. Jerry stopped and looked back. ‘The baby.’
He smiled indulgently. ‘She’ll sleep for a little longer. I’ll be back to help you with the feeding and changing soon. If she wakes before then, just press the call button.’
He left and she was alone with the baby. All thoughts of the memory and dreams rushed away in the panic of that realisation.
Shit.
She’d never been left alone with the baby before.
She glanced into the crib. The baby was asleep as promised, but as Melissa watched, she began to move restlessly, her little brow furrowing.
Oh god. Was she going to wake up and begin to cry?
It could be ten minutes before anyone came, even if she rang the call button.
Where was Phil? He should be here. She didn’t care that she’d only thought moments ago that she hoped he wouldn’t come until after she’d seen Prof Alan. He needed to be here now.
Maybe he was off doing band things with Dae, Craig and Lexi. Although, when she’d asked how come he was always with her and Arwen and not finishing the album they apparently came here to record, he’d always said the band stuff could wait and that she and Arwen were his priorities right now.
‘Dae and Craig and Lexi understand.’
Hell. It would just be her luck that they’d all change their minds this morning. Although Phil wouldn’t do that, would he? He’d been so excited at the prospect of taking her home with him.
So where was he?
Minutes ticked by as she sat on the edge of her bed and stared at the door.
The baby made a strange noise. Her gaze snapped to the door in a panic and she reached for the call button.
Phil sauntered into the room—thank god—with Prof Alan beside him. ‘Hey, Mel. Sleep well? Oh, Arwen’s here already.’ He went straight over to her, picking her up, cooing to her. ‘Shh, little princess. You hungry? Daddy organised a bottle for you. The nurse will only be a minute. Shh. It’s okay, princess.’ He kissed her forehead, jigging her up and down.
Melissa couldn’t help staring at him as she always did. Why did it look so good when he held the baby in his arms? Men holding babies had never been a turn-on for her before but she couldn’t drag her eyes away from the image of Phil holding their daughter.
Jerry came back in with the blood pressure machine and a bottle. ‘Oh, you’re all here. I was just about to do a quick blood pressure check. Melissa had a little turn before.’
