Read Frequent Traveller (Cathy Dixon #1) for Free Online Page B

been years Cat since it happened. You need to start talking."
     
    Feeling her grow tense, he held her closer burying his face in her hair. Gently he kissed her forehead and face, small kisses, filled with hope that he would be her everything, as she was to him. The smell of mandarins from her shampoo, clutched at his nostrils, flooding him with longing more than ever. How was it even possible to love someone with such intensity and yet know so little about them?
     
    And still as she looked up at him with those big almond shaped eyes, he knew he would settle for a spoonful of her even if not the entire helping. After all, that was the Cathy Dixon way, "have me in small portions or risk never seeing me again."
     
    "What if I tell you and they come to hurt you? I would never be able to live with myself. Why do you always need everything, Thomas? Why can't you just be content with what I give?! It is always more and more with you."
     
    Even in the dim light, he could see Cathy's face flash and change to a colour that matched the fiery red of her hair as she got out of bed. Thomas stood up to face her and saw her eyes filled with turmoil.
     
    "Hon, listen don't cut me out. I'm on your side. But cut me a little slack that's all I'm asking. You are the woman I love. And I won't let you shut me out forever. I see you once every three months. No phone conversations, random emails. And when I do see you, we remain inside making little effort to talk about what we need to discuss. I know something terrible happened all those years ago when they arrested you, I was there too ... but you need to talk to me or to someone. Just please, spill it out. Tell me what happened. I’m begging you."
     
    Looking up, all Cathy saw was pain. As tears welled up in two pairs of eyes, she put her arms around his neck and pulled him towards her, holding on for dear life.
     
    "I'm so sorry. Hold me, please. They said anyone who knows will be dealt with. And I ..."
     
    "Shush, I didn't mean to push. I'm tired and hungry. Maybe some food might set the mood straight? Tom Tom's breakfast special."
     
    They separated but Cathy continued to lean on his shoulder. They made their way into the villa's kitchenette. When Thomas started to ransack the fridge, she slowly sat herself at the counter and watched him. She wondered how life was so simple and yet so complicated, all at the same time. They had grown up in the same neighbourhood. Their families had been friends even before their births and the two lovers were born one day apart. From cycling to gawky high school pictures, they had been like two peas in a pod. Then twelve years ago, everything changed.
     
    She had decided to put an end to a family secret she could no longer keep. He had come to her rescue in more ways than one and a childhood friendship grew into an adult romance filled with twists and turns far worse than a climb up Mount Everest.
     
    Cathy clasped her hands together and slowly started, "They said I am free, as long as I keep doing what they want. But the day I say no or I screw up, they will have me thrown back into my cell. And on some days, I think that is where I deserve to be. After all, I have his blood on my hands."
     
    Thomas glanced up from the eggs he was beating.
     
    "Yea, so you supposedly killed the animal who forgot what it was to protect his own. He shared you with his friends while telling the world he was God's answer to mankind."
     
    With sorrow, he saw her face twisted with pain as he felt the colour in his cheeks rising.
     
    "I'm sorry but I just don't understand it. Even after all this time ... How did nobody see it or realise what was happening? You were just a child, we both were."
     
    The eggs in the bowl were on their way to becoming the most well-beaten anyone would ever see as Thomas lashed out his fury at the past.
     
    Vividly, he remembered that night, twelve years ago when she had shown up at his house, t-shirt drenched in blood, knife in hand. In