Painful Deliverance

by Ann M Pratley

  "Yes, I think you are right. Will you drive me to the police station please?" he asked, still not entirely sure it was the most intelligent thing to do, but probably the right thing to do.

  Toby nodded and stood up. "Of course, Sir. Whenever you are ready."

  Lincoln stood up also and nodded at his driver.

  "I will go now. I need to put a stop to all of this. I need to put things right."

  ~~~~~

  "Are you sure this is what you want to do, Sir?" Toby asked his employer as they sat outside the police station in central Melbourne.

  For a fleeting moment Lincoln considered not going in to see them - to see how it would all pan out naturally without him admitting what he had done, but despite a darker side of his nature having shown - and grown - in recent times, he did pride himself on his honesty, and what he had done wasn't good. Everything he had done - particularly every way he had acted since Friday night - went against everything that he had always felt he stood for. Professionalism. Trust. Honesty. Integrity. He felt like he had turned his back on each of those things - and he didn't like feeling that at all.

  "Yes. This needs to be done. I have wasted police resources already, having told them the lie that I did. Now I need to put it right."

  ~~~~~

  Lincoln walked in and approached the front counter. He didn't know who to talk to so considered that since he would likely be in news in coming days, he may as well start exactly where he was - at the front counter.

  "Can I help you, Sir?" the officer asked and Lincoln chose his words carefully.

  "I wish to talk to someone about Lexi Montgomery," he said and was directed to another officer, who led him into a small room.

  "You have some information about Ms Montgomery?"

  "I called you - I am the person who called the police. It was me who reported her missing," Lincoln started to say, finally feeling a calm come over him. "And I shouldn't have."

  The officer looked carefully at the man before him. He knew who he was - Lincoln Kokiri. He was photographed enough to be familiar to the police.

  "Why is that, Mr Kokiri?"

  "She was not abducted," Lincoln said and put his head down, letting so many memories flow over him. "She went away - I think … I think to get away from me. And I misled the police because in the moment I panicked and thought a report on television would force her to come back … to me."

  The officer wrote notes as Lincoln talked and talked, telling why he had felt it was a good idea - at the time - to do what he had done.

  "She might be afraid of me, and I don't want her to be. She is safe from me - but she was not abducted."

  It seemed from that moment that he was there for hours, answering questions of different officers and detectives, before they announced they would require him to stay there while they checked out different aspects of his story.

  It was right about that time that Alexis was walking into a different police station, in a different part of Australia. Telling her side of the same story. And demonstrating to the police there the extent to which something had gone seriously wrong somewhere, and made her fall into trance-like states when someone yelled at her.

  10 ~ THE FINAL CHAPTER

  The door to Anthony's home was wide open … and all down the front side of it, on and around the door handle … was blood. Alexis went into a panic, immediately thinking that he had found him - he had learned about Anthony helping her and he had sent someone to come after him.

  Alexis ran into the house, not now caring if it was considered polite or not.

  "Anthony?" she yelled while making her way into his home and looking into every room from the front of the house to the rear as she ran down the hallway.

  As she headed toward the kitchen suddenly he was right there, at the end of the hallway in front of her, looking at her.

  "Allie?" he asked, wondering if he wasn't seeing things.

  She saw he was using one of his hands to hold the other hand, which was wrapped in a towel, and there was dark red blood all over both of his hands. She rushed forward and took his hands in hers.

  "What has happened?" she asked and he found himself in slight shock at the sight of her. "Where is all the blood coming from?"

  "You came back," he said and she saw that he was extremely pale - almost white in fact - and wasn't thinking straight. For once she needed to be strong so he could lean on her.

  "Anthony, you are bleeding … a lot! Come and sit down at the table," she said and he followed her instruction. Immediately she unwrapped the hand and saw a long knife cut across the palm. "What happened to your hand?"

  He felt like he was in a dream at first, but then seemed to finally come back to normal and look down at his hand.

  "I just cut myself when I was trying to cut back the rose bushes out front. It isn't too bad - it looks worse than it is," he said, looking at her again. He was seated and she was standing beside him, leaning over him to look closer at it.

  She sensed him looking at her, and turned her head to look at him also, at the same time leaning in to just touch her lips to his, before pulling away just as quickly. He watched her as she took the towel and rinsed it in the kitchen sink, before bringing it back and starting to wash his hand clean of the blood.

  Anthony sat quietly, just watching her. His eyes moved back and forth between her face and what she was doing to his hand. He could smell her - he didn't know what gave her that scent - perhaps her deodorant - but it was a smell he liked.

  It had only been a couple of weeks, he supposed, since he had last seen her, but as she stood over him like that, he thought about how much he had missed her. She had blown through his home so briefly - two nights - and yet as soon as he had come home after their two nights away together, his home had felt empty without her. In some part of his mind he knew that she was meant to be in his house, with him. She belonged here.

  But she had so many things going on - so many stresses to deal with - and he would not pressure her. He would not even do anything that she could even perceive to be pressure.

  So he sat silently, not wanting to say anything.

  "There. It is now clean, but do you have some kind of disinfectant cream?" Alexis asked him, not certain whether he needed medical treatment or not.

  "Yes," he said softly, hardly without any voice, he was so speechless at her being there with him. "In the cabinet in the bathroom."

  Alexis walked into the bathroom, not even aware of how at home she felt in the house. Her mind was consumed with worry for him, still visualising the moment she saw all that blood on the front door, and the thoughts of horror that had immediately crossed her mind.

  Looking in the cabinet she spotted the cream, and grabbed some gauze squares she saw there also, along with medical tape, and walked back into the kitchen. Straight away he saw her walk efficiently and confidently to him and pull up a chair beside him - close to him. She went to work, holding his hand firmly while caressing the cream into the cut, before placing the gauze over it and securing it firmly with the tape.

  All the while, Anthony was aware of her leg touching his under the table. He could feel the warmth coming through from her to him, through both of their pairs of jeans. And he didn't want to acknowledge it but he could feel arousal from her closeness. He closed his eyes and thought of anything else that he could, to stop his body reacting. He didn't want to go there - he didn't want them to go there. But he especially didn't want her to think that he wanted them to go there.

  Alexis looked at her handiwork and hoped it would suffice. When she was fairly certain the cut wasn't actively bleeding anymore, she took a moment to catch her breath and actually look at him.

  When she looked at his face she saw him looking right back at her, his eyes looking right into hers. She had felt confident in her decision coming here, to see him. Now she felt nervous, like perhaps she was not welcome.

  Anthony looked at her and found himself not only pleased that she had come back to visit him,
but almost ecstatic. His heart was beating loudly in his chest, but he couldn't think of anything to say to her.

  "Perhaps I can make us both a cup of coffee. Would you like one?" she asked him and he nodded slowly, not taking his eyes off her.

  Alexis smiled at him before standing up and moving over to the bench once more, and making them coffee. The two of them didn't say anything to each other during that time, just looked at one another in and around her doing what she had to do with the cups.

  When she sat down again and pushed his cup toward him, she realised she had surprised him - a lot.

  "Is it okay for me to be here?" she asked timidly, snapping him out of his trance.

  "Yes!" she heard him say forcefully, followed by a look of fear on his face. "Allie, yes! I am glad you are here," he said, more quietly, and waited to see if the sound of his voice had triggered anything. "Are you alright?"

  Alexis laughed at him softly and reached out to take his good hand in hers.

  "I am. I actually feel really good. I haven't 'zoned' since you left, Anthony. I think I'm okay."

  He wanted to hope that she was right, but didn't want to be complacent about that. Especially if it was his voice that triggered the periods of time where her mind seemed to take her elsewhere.

  "How have you been?" she asked him tentatively, and found herself blush at the intensity of his stare.

  Anthony saw it and purposely looked down, pulling his hand back so he could lift his cup.

  "I have been fine, except for this," he said, holding up the injured hand. "I just wanted to cut those rose bushes back, but I wasn't concentrating on what I was doing and I let the saw slip."

  Alexis watched his face. She could see him clearly as a man now. Not that he wasn't a man before, but she didn't want to see him in that light before. She still wasn't ready to think about that - intimacy - with anyone. But she could acknowledge at least that he was a man - an attractive man … a good man.

  "Are you staying?" he asked quietly, trying to find the balance between letting her know he would like her to, but at the same time not sounding like he was pressuring her to.

  "I would like to … if I can. If not, I think today the train goes back in the afternoon…"

  "No!" he said, again more forcefully than he meant - and immediately looked closely at her to see if it had affected her, but relaxed when he saw that it hadn't. "No, Allie, please stay. The house has seemed … empty … without you here."

  The words were welcome to Alexis. She was safe with him - not only because he was a good person who wouldn't abuse her in any way, but also because she knew he had his own things to work through before he would get involved with someone. There was safety in that for her - security.

  "Alright," she said, smiling at him. "Thank you. Could we sit in the lounge, perhaps? To talk more comfortably?" she asked him and saw the surprise on his face before he stuttered a reply.

  "Of … of course."

  Anthony saw her stand up and start walking, without waiting for him to go first, and he smiled to himself as he took that as a good sign already that she was well on her way to healing.

  They settled on the sofa together, facing each other and both feeling the mixture of excitement, eagerness and nervousness.

  "Tell me what has been happening with you," he said to her and she happily began talking. She had never been very conversational but was finding these days that she didn't mind it so much - and it wasn't as difficult as she had always thought it must be.

  "After you left I went to the police station and talked to them. I had to tell them his name, which I hadn't wanted to do, Anthony…" she started and paused before continuing. "They already guessed anyway, but it felt wrong for me to speak about him. I gave them as little information as I could, to satisfy their questions. But then, before I left, they told me that he had gone to them himself, and told them he lied about me having been taken by force."

  Anthony nodded at her, remembering that day.

  "I saw the news that night, reporting he had done that."

  Alexis looked at him, wondering what he thought of her for having gone through what she had - and staying in that situation for so long.

  "After that I was lucky to find a job, which I enjoy very much. The people there are nice."

  "You look different, Allie," he said, reaching out his hand and taking hers in his, not feeling awkward or wrong about doing so. "You look … different … happy."

  Alexis looked at their two hands, entwined, and didn't feel uncomfortable sitting like that.

  "I feel happy. And I feel very different, Anthony. I think I have you to thank for that," she said, now looking up into his face, and he looked directly into her eyes once again.

  Anthony pushed aside a natural desire that was creeping up on him - a natural pull to kiss her. It was there but he didn't want it. Instead he held out his arms and welcomed her into them, and was glad to see and feel her move against him and just relax in his arms.

  The feeling was one of comfort and companionship, and Alexis loved that she could feel that way with him. It was so different from what she'd had with Lincoln - even at the start of her relationship with him, when he had been far more relaxed, there had been little of anything so simple as just cuddling like this.

  "I have missed you," she said to him, not afraid to admit it. "I hope that is okay, Anthony."

  He sat quietly and didn't say anything, even though he felt his heart happy at the words. She didn't prompt him in any way to say anything; instead she just cuddled more against him and rested. It was enough that she was here and that he knew.

  ~~~~~

  "Your room is still made up, Allie," Anthony said to her as the evening arrived and they were settled on the sofa again after having eaten dinner and watched a movie together.

  He saw her turn and look at him. He wasn't sure but he thought it might be a look of expectation on her face. But he said nothing.

  Alexis smiled at him. There was a natural desire growing in her for him, but she would respect his need to take the time that he wanted to recover from the grief of losing Cynthia. And one thing she had determined, having spent the past two weeks alone, was that she would not rush into anything with any man again. And when she was next in a relationship, it would not all be one way. She would not bow down to the next person who caught her eye. Whoever came into her life next, would have to be as set on a 50/50 relationship as she was. Give and receive. And always say no when it was something not wanted.

  "Thank you. I think I will turn in now," she said, pulling away from him. "Are you working in the morning?" she asked and he shook his head.

  "No, I am all yours tomorrow. Do with me what you will," he said, now relaxed enough to tease her, and he saw her laugh in understanding that he wasn't seriously suggesting anything sexual.

  ~~~~~

  As she lay in bed, Alexis found herself feeling … happy. It was such as strange sensation in her. She had not always been unhappy, but the unique feelings of happiness and true contentment had somehow eluded her for most of her life.

  She was here, in Anthony's home, for two nights. That was the time she had before she had to get back to work. She liked the way it felt to be here, and the way it had felt being in his arms, talking to him … knowing that when she spoke he really listened and was interested in what she had to say.

  It was easy to go to sleep with that peace of mind.

  ~~~~~

  Down the hallway, Anthony lay in his bed, very aware that she was here, in his home once again. He could almost feel her presence two doors down. But he would not act, no matter what his body was trying to tell him to do. He did believe they could build a great friendship over time - she would become a valued part of his life if he let her - but beyond friendship he couldn't think about right now. He knew two years was in some people's eyes too long to grieve after someone died, but he would take as long as it took.

  Thinking about that, he felt tears come to his eyes as he rem
embered Cynthia again. He thought about her less and less often now, but when he did - like now - he brought himself to tears again, thinking about how much he had loved her, and how much he missed her.

  No, he wasn't over her yet. And until he was, he wouldn't be moving forward - with anyone. It just would not be fair - to him or to her.

  ~~~~~

  Waking up with the sunlight trying to make its way through the curtain, Alexis felt like she was home. She hadn't yet found a permanent home in the city where she was working - the landlady of the guest house had offered her a good rate if she stayed longer term so she had stayed there for the meantime. It was convenient to work and it was easy.

  But she did enjoy this feeling of homeliness. It was nice waking up here, in this bed, in this room, in this house.

  As she lay in bed, contemplating getting up, she heard a door down the hallway open and then Anthony's voice could be heard walking down and into the bathroom. Alexis smiled to herself as she realised that he was … humming. Well, kind of humming, and kind of singing. Then she heard the shower start up, and then he was really singing. It lasted only a few minutes and then the bathroom door was opening again, and the humming was close to her door again. It made her giggle - she couldn't help it.

  "Is that you laughing at me, Missy?" she heard him call out to her, as his voice moved down the hallway further. "Pancakes for breakfast if you hurry, but only if you tell me what a good singer I am!"

  Alexis jumped out of bed and ran into the bathroom and had a quick shower. There was no instance of a trance now - so far it seemed to have left her. She did not take it for granted that it was completely gone - she did still expect that something would trigger it - but for now she tried not to dwell on it, and only felt like she was building in confidence … developing as a person.

  ~~~~~

  Anthony was already cooking the pancakes when he saw her come into the kitchen. As much as he didn't want to, he enjoyed the sight when she came in. She seemed to have ditched the old second hand clothing and now wore new clothes, he realised - feminine clothes - women's clothes. When she had arrived yesterday she'd had jeans and a jersey on still, and he hadn't thought about it, but today she was wearing a sundress and a cardigan, and she looked very … different.