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CHAPTER 5 Several hours later, Sydney helped Nigel back to his room. She was almost as drunk as he was, but she held her liquor better than he and could still function properly. It was the first time they had ever been intoxicated together, but she couldn’t let him drink alone, not tonight. “I think we probably should have eaten something,” she muttered as she released him close enough to the bed so that if he fell over he’d fall on the mattress. Her stomach was churning from a diet of margaritas and rum shots. Nigel slowly lowered himself to the bed, but remained sitting up. His head was spinning and his stomach wasn’t great either, but it was a still a better feeling than what he’d been experiencing earlier. “Order.” Sydney looked at him startled as she dropped down beside him. “Huh?” “If you’re hungry, order some food.” She flopped back on the bed and lifted her wrist to glance at her watch. She squinted to see the numbers. “It’s after one in the morning. They’re closed.” “Oh.” He couldn’t think of another solution, so he just left it alone. Sydney spotted the envelope on the bed and picked it up. “What’s this?” Nigel grabbed the envelope from her. “Leave it!” he snapped and then immediately apologized. “I…sorry, Syd. It’s nothing.” He tossed the envelope on the nightstand. Sydney regarded him quietly for a moment, and then started to sit up. Her coordination was a little shaky, after she’d relaxed, and she grabbed his shoulder to bring her up to his eye level. “You should get some sleep,” she said. “You’ll feel better in the morning.” She paused. “Oh, but take a couple of aspirin before you do, so you won’t be as hung over.” He nodded, but made no move to follow her suggestion. Sydney started to rise to her feet, but Nigel caught her hand. She looked down at him, questioningly and was even more curious when he immediately released her and averted his eyes. “Nigel?” He shook his head. “You want me to stay?” He nodded again, but his gaze remained attached to a spot on the floor. She patted his shoulder. “Let me go get my stuff and I’ll be right back, okay?” She was at the door when she heard him call her name. “Syd?” She turned and waited, patiently. He rose. “It’s been a bad day, hasn’t it?” She nodded. “Yeah.” She offered him a small smile. “At least we got the bad guys.” “Yeah.” He looked away again and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’ll be right back,” she promised and opened the door. “Syd?” “Yeah?” “I…I’m quite drunk. Maybe…maybe you shouldn’t…” She smiled at him over her shoulder. “I trust you, Nigel.” She stepped out and closed the door. Nigel released a long sigh and dropped down onto the bed again. He didn’t think he would try anything with Sydney, and even if he did she wasn’t drunk enough to let him get away with it, but he wasn’t thinking very clearly at the moment and his attitude might change when she returned. He had no desire to embarrass either of them, which is why he warned her that he was feeling incredibly lonely and distraught. Sydney understood what he was trying to say, as she always did, and still she was willing to stay. He stared at the envelope on the nightstand for a long moment, before picking it up and pulling his lighter out of his pocket. He watched as the flame sprung to life and moved the envelope towards it, and then paused. He didn’t believe that Mason was his father and the information inside the envelope could confirm his belief…Yet, there was just the smallest doubt in his mind. The similarities were too extreme. Finding a man who was, by all accounts, his twin, and then discovering that that man’s father was identical to Nigel’s own father was too much of a coincidence. Mason had known his mother’s name, and Nigel had never told anyone her name, not Cate, not even Sydney. He wasn’t keeping it a secret, but they had been dead for several years, so it wasn’t a topic he broached often. How did one test for paternity when twins were involved, anyway? Their DNA would be almost exact. He supposed that Cate’s resources allowed them to weed out the truth, but was it really a truth he wanted any part of? The scientist in him had to suppose that Max Mason could be his father and that Ian had been his twin brother. The man in him refused to admit to a lineage other than the one he had always known. He snapped his lighter shut and continued to stare at the envelope. There were so many questions, so many possibilities. What was the truth and what was a lie? He understood enough about genetics to understand that having one criminal in a family did not mean a bad gene was passed through the rest. It was no more likely that a child of alcoholic or abusive parents would grow up to abuse others. It happened, certainly, but just as reasonable a percent lived normal and healthy lives. Most managed to break the cycle. He knew who Mason was, a thief, a crook and a liar. Most of all, he was a killer. The man would have killed Sydney in a heart beat, of that he had no doubt. It was impossible that his mother could ever have felt anything for a man like Mason. Yet, instead of shooting Sydney when he had the chance, Mason stopped when Nigel revealed his true identity, as if shocked. Did that make his story true? Perhaps, parts of it could be. Was it enough to accept Mason as his father, or even his long lost uncle? He flipped the top on his lighter again. “No,” he muttered as he moved the flame towards the envelope. He was startled when the envelope was pulled away, just before the paper could catch fire. He glanced back at Sydney, surprised. “Whatever this is,” she advised quietly. “You may want it in the morning, when you’re thinking more clearly.” He stared at her. How did she know so much? How did she always manage to get inside his head? “I won’t,” he said. She tossed the envelope over by his knapsack. “You might.” She caressed his upper arm. “Trust me.” She dropped two aspirins into his hand. “And take these.” He slowly nodded. “I’m going to go change.” She set her case on the bed, opened it and pulled out a t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts. “You want to get the bed ready?” He watched her walk into the bathroom and close the door. He glanced at where the envelope had landed beside his bag, and then shrugged. Sydney was right, he wasn’t thinking clearly. He quickly changed into his shorts and a T-shirt and climbed into the bed, pulling the covers back on the left for her. He pulled off his watch and set it on the nightstand, surprised that he managed to do all of this without once stumbling or getting caught up in his clothing. Perhaps, he wasn’t as drunk as he thought he was. Sydney returned a few minutes later and climbed in beside him. “Okay?” she asked as she reached up to switch off the lamp. She wasn’t just asking permission to turn out the light. Nigel allowed her a small smile. “Yeah.” She switched off the lamp and snuggled down. “Night, Nige.” “Sweet dreams, Syd.” Sydney awoke to the sound of Nigel screaming and she bolted upright in bed to find him thrashing around beside her, caught in a horrible nightmare. She caught hold of him and shook him awake. “Nigel! Nigel, wake up, you’re dreaming!” He awoke with a start and seemed confused to find someone holding him. “Mum?” he croaked desperately, still trapped in the vestiges of his terror. “It’s Sydney,” she offered gently, her brow furrowed in concern. “Syd?” He could feel himself growing more alert. He started to pull away, appalled to have awakened her. “I…I’m sorry, I…” Sydney refused to let him shut her out and she pulled him closer, wrapping her arms around him, he was trembling. “Come here to me,” she insisted. “It’s okay.” Nigel hesitantly accepted the embrace but couldn’t bring himself to return it. He was horribly embarrassed. Sydney had certainly seen him in many states, frightened, excited, and certainly out of his depth, but his dream had left him naked and exposed and he didn’t like that at all. “I’m fine, Syd.” Sydney continued to hold him. “I’m not. You scared the crap out of me.” He tentatively rubbed her back with one hand, soothing. “Sorry.” “Not good enough.” He almost smiled and felt a welcome release of his fear as he allowed his arms to fold around her. She would have her way come hell or high water, so it was useless to fight. “Thank you,” he said holding on for only a minute or two before releasing her. “I’m sorry I woke you.” Sydney allowed him to break the embrace. “Are you okay?” He nodded. “Want to talk about it?” “Not really, no.” She stared at him, trying to decide if she should press the matter, and then finally she nodded. She knew him well enough to understand how far she could go with him and when. She lay back down. “Think you can get back to sleep?” Nigel didn’t want to sleep. He never wanted to close his eyes again after that hellish dream, but he knew she would stay awake with him all night if he didn’t at least try. He dropped back onto his pillow and pulled the covers up to his chin as he turned on his side, away from her. “Good night, then.” Sydney stared at his back in the darkness, the moonlight streaming in from the window allowed her to make out his form quite well and she could see that he was as stiff as a board. She was torn for what to do. If it had been any other man sharing her bed, she would relax him the usual way, but she couldn’t do that with Nigel. He needed another form of distraction, one that would offer less stress, not more. She tried to think of what she could do. “I’m fine, Syd,” he said suddenly, as if reading her mind. “Go back to sleep, please.” “I can’t sleep now.” She watched him curl his body a little tighter. “Not because of you, I’m still hungry.” “There may be a protein bar in my bag if you like?” Sydney screwed up her face. The bars were fine when then needed some nutrition on a hunt, but overall she found them lacking in taste. She tossed back the covers and rose from the bed. Nigel rose up on his elbow. “Where are you going?” “Hunting,” she said as she shrugged into her slacks. “Hunting for what?” “Food. They have a kitchen here.” “Syd, it’s closed! You can’t break into their kitchen! You’ll get arrested.” “For stealing a sandwich?” she smirked as she grabbed the sweater that was draped on the chair. “I think that’s mine, Syd.” “I’ll bring it back.” She slipped into her shoes and opened the door. “Syd!” She turned back to him. “Don’t get caught. I’ve had my fill of excitement and have no great desire to deal with the police tonight.” She grinned and closed the door. Nigel dropped back on his pillow, tossed an arm over his head and stared at the ceiling. His dream had been truly horrendous. He’d dreamed of his mother, laughing as she and his father walked in a garden. She was glowing, he’d never seen her so happy, and then his father kissed her and she returned his affection. After a moment, they fell to the grass and there his father took his mother, amongst the scent of roses and lilacs. It was disturbing to watch his mother moan against his father, but then his father turned, as if sensing that he was being watched. Ross Bailey’s face turned into Nigel’s, only there was a deliberate cruelty in his gaze. Nigel realized that it was not his face, but Ian Worthingham’s and with that discovery, the man who looked like him stopped making love to Sheelah Bailey and suddenly slit her throat. Nigel had screamed in his dream and he must have awakened Sydney. When he first awoke and felt her hands on him, he immediately thought it was his mother, comforting him after a nightmare, as she had when he was a child. Only it was Sydney and he could not handle to be so exposed to her, the woman who was afraid of nothing. He tossed back the covers and rose with a growl. He switched on the light and blinked at the sudden illumination. His gaze fell upon the white envelope over by his knapsack. After several moments he walked over and picked it up. He stared at it for even longer and then walked into the bathroom and closed the door. He didn’t want to chance Sydney coming back while he opened it. He lowered the lid on the commode and sat down. With a deep breath, he tore off the side of the envelope and pulled out the folded sheet. It was a copy of the results of a DNA test, just as Cate had said, but also had the result in typical jargon for those who could not read the code. Nigel stared at it for so long that his eyes began to water. Finally, he folded it back up and returned it to the envelope, just as he heard the door to the outer room opening. Sydney had returned. He rose and splashed some cold water on his face, before slipping the envelope into the waistband of his shorts and hiding it with the end of his T-shirt. He pulled open the door and stepped out. “Hey!” Sydney grinned and held up a plate of cold chicken and a couple of soft drinks. “Mission successful.” She climbed onto the bed and patted the space beside her. “I left some money on the counter. Let’s eat.” Nigel joined her and did as he was told.
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