The Devil Inside, page 31
She was a details girl—but she had to try to make herself content with what she had. Doctor Seggers said she might never get her full memories back. Only time would tell.
Looking down at Arwen and then back up at Phil, she knew she would be content as long as they were always a part of her life.
Phil held something out to her.
‘Krolik!’ she exclaimed, taking the bunny and running her hand over it. ‘You got him back.’
‘Yeah. The police didn’t need to keep him. Bev sewed him up for you. They made a bit of a mess opening him up to get the diamonds out.’
She ran her hand over the ‘scar’. ‘She did a good job. What about the blankie?’
Phil pulled a face. ‘I forgot to tell you. I grabbed it and used it to staunch Karl’s wound. I tore the satin strip off it and diamonds flew all over the garage floor. The police have been over and over the floor trying to make sure they got them all. But the blankie is ruined. I’m sorry. I know you wanted Arwen to have it.’
‘It doesn’t matter.’ She shook her head. ‘It was never really mine. Mamochka only gave it to me after sewing the diamonds into the satin edges. I don’t even remember sleeping with it. Just Krolik.’ She let out a huff. ‘I can’t believe she sewed diamonds into him too. Why did Mama and Papa never take them out?’
He shrugged. ‘Maybe they didn’t know they were there.’
She supposed he was right. Maybe they’d find out when the diaries were properly examined. Not that she really cared.
What she cared about was standing in front of her and was in her arms.
She looked up.
He bent down and kissed her. ‘What’s going on in that mind of yours?’
‘Just thinking that I’m more than ready to go home and start our life together. Are you sure Lexi is fine with us living there after all this?’
‘She said she loves the fact we consider it home as much as she does. And we’re welcome to stay as long as we wish.’
‘That’s lovely.’
‘But that isn’t all you’re thinking.’
‘You know me so well.’ She met his gaze with a smile. ‘I’m also thinking how lucky I am that you love me and never gave up on me. Not back then and not now.’
He knelt beside her, one hand cupping her face, the other going to Arwen. ‘Never. I will never give up on you. Either of you. We belong together.’
‘Yes, we do.’
Their lips met again in a burst of joy that was purely theirs.
Arwen let out a little mewling sound and, laughing softly, they pulled away. ‘Sorry, Princess. Daddy’s got a kiss for you too.’ He kissed her crown.
Arwen sighed and settled, a little smile on her lips.
‘How do you always manage to do that?’
‘It’s a gift.’
Melissa shook her head, bemused. ‘Too charming for any of our good.’
His lips quirked. ‘I do what I can.’
She touched his face. ‘I love you.’
‘I love you.’
His whole face shone with that love as she knew hers did, but still, there was something in his eyes, in the tight way he held his body, a discordant note that told her that even while he was blissfully happy with her and Arwen, there was something missing. Something essential to him and his soul’s happiness.
She had a feeling she knew what that was and it was time to discuss it with him. She opened her mouth.
‘Sergei wants to see you.’
Her mouth hung open, the ability to speak flying away at his words.
‘You don’t have to see him,’ he said when she didn’t answer.
‘I … no … I do.’
He chuckled. ‘Well, that was a clear answer.’
She screwed her mouth up as she tried to clear her mind. ‘Sorry. It’s just, I didn’t expect you to say that. I was … surprised.’ It was a miracle he’d survived long enough for the ambulance to get there. He’d been flown to Melbourne after they’d stabilised him. Apparently, he was in police custody in the hospital as he recovered. ‘The police are okay with me visiting him?’
‘He’s brokered a deal but says he’ll only talk if they let him see you.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘You don’t have to see him if you don’t want to.’
‘I know. But I do. Want to see him. There’re some things I want to clear up.’ She needed to know if they were all safe from his family. It had been a constant worry the last few days of her recovery from the drugs Anatoli had used on her.
He nodded. ‘I’ll call them and organise a time. We’ll go down in the chopper.’
‘Can we do it sooner rather than later?’
‘Sure.’
Two hours later had her walking down the hushed halls of the hospital, the band’s Australian lawyer, Sarah, by their side. Police stood guard at the door to the unit Sergei was in, then another two outside his door—they weren’t taking any chances given his connections back in Russia.
A detective met them at the door. ‘We would like to be able to film your discussion with him.’
Mel conferred with Sarah who then turned to the detective. ‘My client does not wish to be filmed. However, Mr Orloff is not my client, so anything he tells us that might pertain to your investigation will be related to you when we’re done.’
The detective nodded—he didn’t have a choice—and opened the door. ‘You have twenty minutes.’
They entered the room, Sarah and Phil—with Arwen in her carrier—hanging back by the door to give her and her brother some privacy.
Sergei watched her as she made her way to the bedside. He was attached to monitors and a drip but was also secured to the bed by a handcuff. ‘Are the handcuffs necessary?’
Sarah sighed. ‘Given his crimes and his connections, yes. But if you’d like me to advocate on his behalf, I can try.’
‘Don’t bother,’ Sergei said. ‘Babushka has organised a lawyer for me. He’s taking care of it after he took care of making sure I could talk to you.’ He moved his hand, as if he wished to reach up and take her hand. She stared at his open palm, the hopeful look on his face, remembered his kindness and understanding when acting as Jerry. It had all been a trick to get her to open up to him. Even so, she couldn’t help but feel, especially after he’d helped save her life and had killed his brother to save her, that she owed him this little kindness at least.
She put her hand in his.
The look in his eyes made a lump wedge in her throat. ‘I’m so sorry, Milla. Our lives were never meant to turn out this way. If only you had never been taken away from us, none of this would have happened.’
She shook her head sadly. ‘Are you saying you wouldn’t have become a killer if I had grown up with you?’
Pain flickered across his eyes. ‘I never wished to be a killer.’ He sighed heavily. ‘Our family requires much in their service. They let me study and join the army and become a medic only because it served family needs. But if up to me, I would have become a doctor, I think. Perhaps.’ He sighed again. ‘I wish our mother had stolen me away too. Maybe then, I would have what you have. Such happiness.’ He glanced at Phil. ‘He makes you happy.’
She pulled her hand from his. ‘You almost took that happiness from me.’
‘I know. And I am sorry. I never wanted anything for you but happiness. I hope you can believe that.’
Her mouth trembled as she nodded jerkily. ‘What of your family?’ Her breath was a rasp in her throat as she asked the question that had haunted her. ‘Will they continue to come after me?’
‘No. The police have the diaries and the diamonds. Also, your husband’s fame puts you too much in the public eye. If anything were to happen to you, suspicion would fall on the Orloff family, which is something we do not want. You are nothing to our family and have nothing of value to offer any one of us but me. They will leave you alone. I have made certain Babushka ordered it so.’
Relief had her knees giving way, but she locked them tight and gripped her hands together in front of her. ‘That’s good.’
‘But …’
She took in a sharp breath, not wanting to hear the next words out of his lips, but unable to stop them.
‘I would like to stay in touch. If that’s okay with you.’
She began to shake her head. She didn’t want anything to do with his violent family and their history in her life, in her daughter’s life, ever again.
‘You’re my sister. We share the same mother. I would like to have a chance to share with you what I remember of our time together. Of our mother.’
She stared at him for long, silent moments and then, ‘I will think about it.’
His lips flickered into a half smile. ‘That is all I can ask.’
They left moments later, and with nothing to tell the police, they departed for the chopper. It wasn’t until they were up in the air again that she was able to breathe.
The Orloff family were letting her go. She was free.
Now she just had to take that freedom and make the most of it for her, for Arwen and for Phil.
She glanced over at her husband. Her elf-man. He was staring out the window at the scenery far below, his fingers ticking against his leg in a way that made her realise he wasn’t aware of it. Despite his anxiety about drumming, there was a huge part of him that still needed it.
She had to do something to make certain he got back to it.
A week later, Mel sat on the couch feeding Arwen. Phil sat at her side, his arm slung around her shoulders.
She stared down at their daughter as she sucked hungrily. She hadn’t been allowed to do this until the drugs had completely cleared from her body and it was such a relief and release to be able to breastfeed with Phil looking on, sharing it with her.
She glanced up at him.
Love glowed in his eyes. As it had done from the moment she’d woken in the hospital just over two months ago. Despite his parents’ lack of love and care, he was good and true and kind and so much more. He’d believed that Mel would love him again and had held onto that belief and never let it go.
He was strong and resilient and special and deserved everything that made him happy—her and Arwen, his friends and his drumming.
Watching his fingers twitch on his knee, she knew it was time to stop waiting for him to see it. It was time for her to show him.
When Arwen was finished feeding and they’d burped her and changed her nappy, Melissa suggested they go for a walk. Phil—so restless despite trying to pretend he wasn’t—jumped at the suggestion and moments later, they were outside, Arwen strapped into a harness against her daddy’s chest.
They ambled through the walled garden, hardly talking, just enjoying each other’s company, but when Phil was about to turn back to the Barn House, she put her hand out and stopped him. ‘Let’s go into the studio.’
He stared at her for a long moment, eyes wide, lips tight. His gaze flickered to the studio and then away. ‘I can’t,’ he said softly.
She slipped her hands down to grip both of his. ‘Yes. You can. Arwen and I will be there with you.’
His gaze caught on hers, his pain so clear to see it tore at her. ‘You don’t understand.’
She bit her lip and reached up to touch his face. ‘Yes. I do.’ They stood there for a long moment, staring at each other.
***
Phil knew she was trying to help him, but she just didn’t understand. He couldn’t drum. ‘I can’t. It’s not a choice. I have tried.’ Although, that wasn’t true. He had used the beats to help him keep going and get to Mel, but that had been an extreme situation, right? He couldn’t rely on that to tell him he could do it again. What if he had another panic attack? He wasn’t ready to go through that again.
She stepped closer, her breath and warmth brushing against him, the touch of her fingers against his cheek, his brow, soothing in a way only she could give him. ‘I know about that heart-crushing panic. I know about self-doubt. I never realised mine was so bound with my parents until I got my memories back, but it still affected me. Not because they didn’t love me, but because I lost them despite that love. And that, because of love, so much was kept from me. But finding all that out just made me realise what you, through your love, had already taken me a ways towards understanding.’
‘What did you realise?’ The words were barely there, a mere whisper, his desperation singing through despite his efforts to sound calm.
‘That no matter how much self-doubt the secrets of my past and my parents’ behaviour instilled in me, I didn’t need to give in to it anymore. I am strong. Loving you and sharing love with you and having this little girl proves how strong.’ She touched Arwen’s head, her love for their daughter—and for him—shining in her eyes. ‘And I learned about that strength from you.’
He started to shake his head. ‘I’m not strong.’ His parents had told him over and over how flawed and weak and selfish he was and now, after recent events, he was so afraid it was true. They’d called again when Mel was in the hospital after the kidnapping was reported and they’d made it very clear they thought his fame had brought this on his wife and daughter.
‘Your parents are arsehats of the highest order. What they taught you about yourself was wrong. I know you know that.’
‘How?’
‘Because if you truly believed you were useless, that your drumming was selfish and the root of all the evils in your life, you would never have pursued it in the way you did and made such a success out of it and your life. You would never have been able to love me the way you do or make yourself open to my love. And you wouldn’t be the brilliant, loving, giving father you are to Arwen. Your drumming is not selfish. You are not selfish. Nothing that happened is your fault or the fault of the thing that brings you so much joy. And you do all of us a disservice if you take that joy from yourself, from us, from the world.’
He shook his head, but even so, her words had flared a light inside him, starting up a rhythm in his heart he couldn’t push down or ignore. ‘But I wasn’t with you when you got so sick and they had to do the caesarean. I wasn’t there because I was drumming.’
‘According to everyone, you hadn’t left my side until you left for the charity event. Lexi told me you made sure you could fly right back and be gone only for the minimum time required. You went because you’re a good man who cares about the plight of those in need. You gave that night, you didn’t take. And according to Bev and the doctors, there were no signs before you left that anything was wrong. It was a sudden onset of pre-eclampsia. It happens. You have no reason and no right to beat yourself up over things you had no control over.’
Could she be right?
‘There’s no need to blame yourself and let it stop you from doing what you need to do. And you need to drum. I can feel that need inside you even now. It hasn’t gone away, and not being able to do it is making you incomplete.’
She was right. She was so right. He wanted to drum; the need was a driving beat inside him. It had got him through being bashed in the head so he could help Karl and go after her after she was kidnapped. Yet … ‘But what if—’
She dropped one hand to his, winding her fingers through his. ‘We will face any what-ifs together. As we’ve done every day since we first fell in love.’
Staring into her eyes, he thought maybe he could face his kit again, as long as she and Arwen were with him. ‘Let’s go.’
They walked up to the studio and let themselves inside. Dae, Lexi and Craig were in the downstairs studio doing some mixing, the outer door open so he could hear their voices as they argued about a section of a song they were refining. He walked past the studio and up the stairs, Mel’s hand clasped tight in his, the weight of his baby-girl against his chest an endless comfort.
When they got upstairs, he stared at his drum kit for what seemed an endless moment. God, he loved that kit, used and banged up as it was. It was the first professional kit he’d bought himself—added to and refined over the years until it was just right. It called out to him with its very own siren song.
His chest tightened; his stomach swirled.
Mel squeezed his hand and when he looked down at her, the love shining in her eyes, the support and belief and trust, gave him enough strength to walk over to the shelves where he kept his roll of drumsticks. ‘Pick one for me.’
She mused over them for a moment before she picked up the brushes. ‘I’m in the mood for some jazzy beats.’
He took the brushes. They felt right in his hand, right in his heart. Of course she’d know just the right sticks to pick. The gentle sound they would make were perfect for finding his way back in.
He stood still as Mel unstrapped Arwen from his chest, helping him to remove the carrier, and choose some smaller earmuffs to protect her sensitive ears. With her by his side, he walked over to the kit.
As he reached it, he lifted his hand and brought the brush down in a gentle stroke across the high-hat. The tone rang through the room, thrilling up his spine. He waited for the panic and nausea. It flickered but didn’t rise up and overwhelm. He did another stroking tap against the ride, a couple of taps on the centre drum. The panic was there but it stayed low, pushed down by the love and trust and belief of the woman at his side. And the belief he held deep within.
If that belief hadn’t been there, he would never have reached for the beats to help him through Mel’s kidnapping and they would never have helped him.
They were strong and sure, because so was he.
He had been so wrong to doubt himself. So wrong to ever let his parents’ shit affect what he thought of himself. He’d proved it once before. He was going to prove it all over again.
He stepped away from Mel and sat behind the kit.
He waited, but the panic didn’t rise. There was only the feeling of rightness, and the love for the woman and baby who were his as he was theirs.
‘What do you want me to play?’
‘What’s in your heart.’
