by Susan Stoker
She pushed a button on the phone and heard the computerized voice read the text that had woken her up moments ago.
Quint- Hey. Just wanted to check in. Just got off shift. I hate the new-and-improved shifts the chief is trying out…the hours are constantly changing. Anyway…everything ok with you?
It was a little annoying that the program read the name of the person sending the text every single time, but Corrie hadn’t had a chance to get the upgrade yet. Quint had been texting her intermittingly since he’d dropped her off earlier in the week. He’d come up to her apartment and checked it out for her, declaring it “bad-guy free.” She’d laughed at the time, but occasionally wished over the last few days that he’d been there to check it out for her again and simply to keep her company.
She clicked on a button and spoke into the phone, knowing the program would turn her words into a text automatically. All she had to say was send after she was done speaking, and her text would go through.
I’m ok. Your shift go ok?
Quint- Typical. Seriously, you all right?
As all right as I can be. Nights are the worst. I swear every time an ice cube falls in the fridge, it scares me to death.
Quint didn’t respond for a few minutes and Corrie sat up in bed nervously. Shoot. She knew she should’ve kept her mouth shut. She’d always kept their conversations light and easy in the past, not even wanting to admit to herself that she was frightened, let alone Quint. She had no idea why she’d decided to let him know how she really felt tonight.
The ding of the incoming text scared Corrie again. Crap.
Quint- I have a confession.
Okay.
Quint- I’ve been driving past your place after my shifts this week to make sure everything looked okay.
And?
Quint- That’s it.
That’s your confession? Corrie didn’t see what the issue was.
Quint- Yeah.
Okay.
Quint- Okay? You don’t have an issue with me driving by?
No. Why would I? You’re a police officer, you have a gun, you’re obviously a lot more equipped to deal with bad guys than I am.
Quint- True. Now I have another confession.
Corrie smiled now. She forgot all about how she’d been scared and concentrated on the pleasure coursing through her that Quint had wanted to check on her.
Another? You like to put on women’s underwear at night and prance around your house?
Quint- Good Lord, woman. No! Jeez.
Corrie giggled, waiting for him to tell her his next confession.
Quint- I’m outside your apartment now. I didn’t want to text and drive so I pulled over to check on you. Would you feel better if I came up to make sure there’s nothing to be afraid of in your apartment?
Corrie struggled to get her thoughts in order. On one hand, she loved that Quint had been thinking about her and wanted to make sure she was safe. But on the other hand, she didn’t want to rely on him. He wouldn’t always be around. She knew being in a relationship with her wasn’t easy. She’d had several boyfriends and even one who had moved in for a while. But he hadn’t been able to deal with her “quirks,” as he’d called them.
Living with someone who couldn’t see could be tough. The furniture couldn’t be moved, everything had its place. There were assistive technologies throughout her house, helping her function on her own. Almost everything could “talk” and her last serious boyfriend even complained about her knowledge of Braille, wondering out loud what she was typing and saying about him that he couldn’t understand.
Even after a week, Corrie knew letting Quint into her life could be dangerous to her heart. He seemed like the kind of man who went all in whatever it was he was doing. If he went “all in” with her then decided she wasn’t worth the effort, it’d hurt. Bad.
She knew he was still waiting for her response. She thought long and hard. Was it creepy he was there or not? Corrie thought about it…and decided it was a bit weird, but Quint was a cop. He’d told her time and time again he didn’t like it that she was staying in her apartment alone, so she decided that he wasn’t being stalkerish, he was being protective. She spoke into her phone and waited.
I’d like that. Thank you.
Quint- I’ll be up in a few minutes. I’ll knock twice, pause, then twice more, so you’ll know it’s me.
Okay. I’ll be waiting.
Corrie put the phone down on her nightstand where she was always careful to place it. Emily had bought her one of those things that were usually used to hold remote controls for the television to put her cell in each night. She’d “lost” her phone too many times in the past by putting it down in random places. She’d learned to always put it in exactly the same place so she could find it when she needed it.
She reached for her comfy terry-cloth robe that was over the back of the easy chair in the corner of her room and pulled it around her, making sure to tie it closed tightly. She wasn’t wearing anything sexy, a long-sleeved sleep shirt and a pair of sleep shorts, but it seemed prudent to cover up. Corrie ran her hands over her hair, trying to decide if she should go and get a scrunchie and put it up, but finally decided against it. She combed it with her fingers and shrugged. Oh well. It would have to do.
Corrie padded down the hall to the living room and went straight to her front door to wait. She didn’t wait long. She heard two knocks, then two more.
“Quint?” she asked through the closed door.
“Yeah.”
Corrie keyed in the security code on the panel next to the door, then twisted the bolt and unlocked the doorknob before opening the door a crack, keeping the security chain in place.
She once again asked tentatively, “Quint?”
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“Okay, hang on.” Corrie closed the door and undid the security chain, then opened the door fully.
She stepped back and Quint came into her apartment, shutting the door behind him. Corrie took a deep breath. He smelled wonderful. She could tell he was still in his uniform because she could once again hear the telltale creaking of the leather belt around his waist. He smelled like leather and teakwood cologne of some sort. She could also smell a slight odor of sweat. Whatever he’d been doing tonight had obviously made him perspire at some point.
She startled a bit when she felt Quint’s hand at her shoulder.
“You look exhausted. You’re really not sleeping well, are you?”
Corrie shrugged, careful not to shrug off the comforting hand at her shoulder. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead,” she quipped, expecting Quint to laugh. He didn’t.
“That’s not funny. I’m being serious.”
Corrie sighed and turned to walk into her living room, only cringing a little inside at losing his touch. “I’ll be fine, Quint. You’re right, I’m not sleeping that well right now, but this will pass eventually. I heard from Detective Algood today and he said they’re getting closer to finding Shaun. Once they do, he’ll tell them what they need to know to catch this guy and I’ll go back to sleeping a full seven hours a night. I’d love it if you could look around and make sure all is safe and secure. Then I’ll be able to sleep better, I’m sure. I’ll just sit over here on the couch while you look around…okay?”
Quint looked at Corrie’s retreating back. He was frustrated. He hated that she wasn’t sleeping at night, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. He had no idea what it was about her that made him feel so much, but it was something. Something that he couldn’t walk away from.
He forced himself to tear his eyes off of Corrie and look around. Quint had been in her apartment once before, the first time he’d taken her home, and just as he’d been then, he was amazed at how neat everything was. Some people might say her apartment looked institutional, it was so pristine, but when he looked closer, he could see her little touches everywhere.
There were no pictures on the walls, nor were there any bookshelves. She wouldn’t have any reason to
have either of those things around since she couldn’t see them. There was a large television set up against one wall. She had a remote control holder thing on her coffee table and the remotes were lined up precisely from tallest to shortest within it. She was sitting on a comfortable-looking leather couch and there was a big easy chair sitting at a right angle next to the sofa. A coffee table was sitting on a tan rug in front of the couch.
He turned his attention to the kitchen and noticed there were no papers lying around on the counter but there was a stack of mail sitting in a basket.
Quint strolled over to it and looked in. It seemed as if there was several days’ worth of mail in the basket. “How do you read your mail?” The question came out without him thinking. Quint winced, hoping it wasn’t insensitive.
“Emily comes over once a week and goes through it for me.”
Her answer was congenial enough. Appeared as if she didn’t take offense to his question.
As if she had mind-reading abilities, she said, “Quint, you can ask whatever you want. Despite evidence to the contrary, I’m usually hard to offend, especially when it comes to someone asking genuine questions about assistive technologies.”
“Thank you, I will. I find everything about you fascinating.” Quint noticed she didn’t turn his way, but thought he saw a sheen of red bloom over her cheeks. He continued checking her place out. The kitchen appliances seemed normal at first glance, but he didn’t know much about what appliances in a blind person’s kitchen would look like. Like most men, he lived on microwave meals and whatever he could make on the stovetop and in the crockpot. Of course, he could also grill a mean steak.
Quint looked around the rest of the living room and kitchen, and seeing nothing out of place, went down the hall to the bedrooms. He opened the first door he came to, remembering from the last time it was the linen closet. The sheets and towels were stacked neatly, and impressively, the towels were stacked by color and the sheets were all in sets. He closed the door and went into the guestroom.
The area reminded him of a hotel room. There was a double-size bed with a black dresser against the opposite wall. There was a small window with forest-green curtains and not much else in the room. Again, there were no pictures on the walls or any extra decorations. Quint briefly lifted the comforter and looked under the bed. Nothing but a few dust bunnies. Neat as a pin.
He then went into the small guest bathroom. The shower curtain on the single shower was pulled back, showing a completely empty stall. The single sink and toilet were off-white and the entire place smelled fresh, as if it’d recently been cleaned.
Quint then continued into the master bedroom. This room, at least, looked a bit more lived in. Corrie’s bed covers were mussed and he could tell how she’d thrown back the quilt as she’d gotten out of bed. Her cell phone was on a little table next to the queen-size bed in another remote control holder. There was a comfortable-looking easy chair in the corner of the room and a four-drawer dresser next to the chair. The window was large and had dark blue curtains, which were tied back. He looked under the bed, and again saw that it was empty and clean, not even a dust bunny to be seen this time.
He peeked into her bathroom and smiled. It was definitely a woman’s bathroom. There were two sinks and a row of lotions lined up next to one of them. There was even a tray filled with makeup in the bathroom as well. He hadn’t thought about it before, but now that he saw Corrie’s personal space, he realized that she’d always been wearing a bit of makeup when he’d seen her before tonight. She’d somehow learned how to apply it…and it looked good on her.
Quint took the time to glance into the shower and, seeing it empty, headed back down the hall to Corrie.
“All clear?” she asked as he came back into the room.
“All clear,” Quint confirmed as he sat on the other end of the sofa. When she smiled, he asked what she was thinking about.
“Every time you move, I can hear all your equipment moving and creaking. I think I’d know in a heartbeat if I was in the same room as another cop based on the sounds of your stuff as you move around.”
Her words brought home to Quint just how observant Corrie really was. It fascinated him. “What else?”
“What do you mean, ‘What else’?”
“What else can you tell about me from listening?”
“Is this a test?”
“No. I’m just curious. No, that’s not exactly right. It amazes me. You amaze me. I’m in awe of you, Corrie.”
Her cheeks pinked and she bit her lip, thinking about his question as if no one had ever taken the time to get to know her in this way before. Finally she answered. “Let’s see…I can smell your shampoo, at least I think it’s your shampoo. It’s faint, but it smells like teakwood?”
“You’re good. Go on.”
“And you’ve eaten a peppermint recently.”
“Yup, right before I came up.”
Corrie nodded as if she’d known she was right all along. “And I can tell you’ve been sweating. It’s not bad, but you must’ve done something tonight that made you exert some energy.”
Quint scooted over to sit closer to Corrie and took hold of the edge of her robe which was lying on the cushion next to him. “Had a drunk man resist arrest. I had to subdue him.” Quint said the words easily, but he was blown away by Corrie. Seriously, she was fucking amazing.
“I’m sorry my apartment isn’t very fancy.”
“What?” Quint hadn’t been paying attention really. He’d been watching his fingers play with the edge of her comfortable-looking robe.
“My apartment. I don’t have any knick-knacks or anything around. There’s no point.”
“It’s fine, Corrie. Why would you have that crap around when you couldn’t see it?”
“Emily tells me all the time that she’s willing to help me spruce it up. Even if I can’t see the stuff, apparently she thinks it’d make me look more approachable or less boring or something.”
Quint felt his teeth clenching. “You aren’t boring, not at all. And you’re very approachable, Corrie. You’re so approachable it’s taking all I have to behave myself here.”
She turned her head in his direction. Quint had to remind himself, again, that she couldn’t see him. It sometimes seemed as if she looked straight into his soul. Her robe was gaping a bit at her chest and he could see her pink sleep shirt underneath. It was cotton, but for some reason, on her, it was very tantalizing. It wasn’t cut so low that he could see any cleavage, but he could see that her nipples were hard and pointed under her nightclothes.
“Oh.” The word was breathy and unsure.
“Come on, sweetheart. You need to get back to bed. You’re exhausted, I’m tired, it’s been a long day. Come lock the door behind me and set the alarm after I go.” Quint knew if he didn’t get out of her apartment, he’d do something he might regret. He felt as if he was seventeen again, getting hard at the sight of her erect nipples. It was definitely time to go.
They walked to her front door and Quint opened it, but turned around to face Corrie. She looked up at him expectantly. It even looked as though she was holding her breath.
“Corrie—”
“Are you going to kiss me? I’m only asking because I can’t see any nonverbal cues you might be giving off, and honestly, I’d hate to miss it, or to have you misinterpret my actions if I didn’t reciprocate because I can’t see you.”
Quint smiled. She was so fucking cute. He loved that she was brave enough to ask, even if she flushed as she did. “No.” He ran his finger over the frown lines on her forehead. “I want to wait until I drop you off at your door after our date. It’s not that I don’t want to right now, but I want to kiss you as your date, not as the police officer who came to check on you.”
“But you’re the same person,” Corrie protested, lifting a hand to lightly rest it on his chest.
Quint couldn’t feel her touch because of the protective vest he wore under his shirt, but he imagined what her
fingers would feel like on him and it almost broke his resolve…almost. He closed his eyes for a moment, relieved that she somehow seemed to see him, the real him, even with everything she’d been through.
“I’m glad you think so, sweetheart. Now, close and lock this behind me. I’ll see you in two days. Yeah?”
Corrie nodded. “Yeah.”
Quint leaned forward and kissed Corrie’s forehead, then drew back far enough for her hand to fall from his chest. “Goodnight, Corrie. Talk to you soon.”
“Night, Quint. Thank you for checking things out for me.”
Quint stood at her door, waiting until he heard the click of the deadbolt and the slide of the metal chain engaging. He hoped she’d be able to get some sleep tonight. By the looks of her, she needed it.
He practically flew down the stairs and back out to his cruiser. He couldn’t believe how excited he was for his date with her. It was almost pathetic.
His phone made a noise, notifying him of a text as he unlocked his car and got in. He looked down at his phone and smiled at the text from Corrie.
Just so you know, I want to kiss both the police officer and my date. Make it happen, would ya?
Quint smiled as he typed in his response.
Count on it. See you soon. I’ll text with the details.
Quint looked around as he drove out of the parking lot, not seeing anything out of place.
* * *
A man smoking a cigarette observed as the cop car left the parking lot. He then looked up to the apartment on the second floor that he’d been watching for the last week. The time was coming to give another warning. If she wanted to ignore the first two…so be it.