by VK Powell
“Thanks again…” She searched for a nametag.
“Heather.” She finished cleaning the area around Jordan’s wound and applied a bandage. “Do you need something for pain?”
“I’d rather not, but thanks. Was it true what you said about a head injury? I don’t feel like I hit my head.”
“No, but you must’ve when you hit the pavement.” She winked again. “Let’s keep that tidbit to ourselves, shall we? By the way, there’s another officer out there. Said she was a friend, Bex or something like that. She was here earlier.”
“Yeah, if you don’t mind, could I see her when you’re finished?”
“Sure, hon. Relax and don’t leave this area until I bring your discharge papers. Promise?”
“Promise.” She pulled her shirt on as someone eased back the curtain to her cubicle.
Bex peered through the crack. “Can we come in?”
“Depends on who we is.” Bex drew the curtain aside a bit more and Jordan saw Liz beside her. “Sure.”
“How you feeling?” Liz’s voice sounded sincere and a bit awestruck. “That was an amazing piece of footwork out there, detective.”
“Just not quite good enough. If I’d been a little quicker—”
“Are you fucking kidding me right now? You took a bullet for Neela. What more do you want?” Liz stared at her and shook her head.
“For her not to be hurt at all.” As Jordan spoke, the truth of her words registered. When had she shifted from viewing Neela as an assignment and a sex buddy to someone she really cared about protecting? As she spoke again, she had to force herself not to break down. “I don’t ever want her to be in pain again.”
Bex cleared her throat and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Well, she’ll be okay. I hope we didn’t hurt you out there.”
“What do you mean?”
“Phil and I had to restrain you when the ambulance attendants loaded Neela. You were fighting us like a madwoman, trying to get to her. You’re freaking strong, Bishop.”
“That’s all a bit hazy.”
“You were losing a lot of blood. I’m surprised you could still stand.”
“Thanks, I guess. And I appreciate you going with me to get Bina. I couldn’t have gotten her here without your help.”
“It’s okay. We’re partners. When are they springing you?”
“Soon, I hope, but don’t tell Milton. He wants a statement, but my nurse convinced him I’m in no condition to give one, something about a concussion.”
“Is there someone to look after you when you leave?” Liz asked.
“No, but I’ll be fine at my apartment.”
“You mean that vacant place that never has any food?” Bex asked.
“That doesn’t sound like a very good plan to me.” The curtain parted and Neela rolled a wheelchair to the side of the bed, with Bina following closely behind. “You’re coming home with us. We have matching concussions. We’ll have to look after each other.”
“What are you doing out of bed?” Jordan asked. “You should be resting and staying off your leg.”
Neela pointed at the contraption beneath her. “I’m in a wheelchair, Jordan.”
“Bina, can’t you control your daughter?”
“She has a strong will, like you. But she is right. You must come home with us. We take care of each other.”
Jordan’s throat tightened as she fought back tears. “I can’t.”
Bina waved her hands in the air. “No more talk about it. You are coming with us.”
Bex grinned and took hold of Liz’s hand. Jordan mouthed, Shut up. “We have things to talk about, like leads on the shooter and those documents we were reviewing yesterday.”
“Milton’s got another team working the shooting, but we can talk about the rest tomorrow,” Bex said. “In case you hadn’t noticed, we’ve spent over eighteen hours here, and we’re off today. I’m taking advantage of my free time since you don’t need me.” She gave Liz a puppy-love look, and Jordan couldn’t help but smile.
She motioned for Bex to come closer and whispered, “Would you mind going by the apartment and checking on Blue? He’s got a doggie door, so just make sure he’s got food and water until I get home.”
Bex started to punch her shoulder but drew back just in time. “Sure, you old softie.”
Two hours later, Bex and Liz dropped Jordan, Neela, and Bina off at the Sahjani home in Hamilton Lakes. Jordan started toward the house, trepidation building. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. She’d only been in Neela’s home a couple of times and not for entirely noble purposes. Now she was a houseguest until Bina was convinced she was well enough to function on her own. Perhaps Bina needed her help because Neela was injured but was too proud to ask. As she assisted her precious charges up the sidewalk, Jordan decided she was good with that.
She unlocked the front door and helped Bina and then Neela inside. They looked like mismatched bookends, each hobbling like a wobbly toy into the large family room. Bina settled into her favorite recliner and raised the leg rest. Jordan guided Neela to the sofa and pulled an ottoman under her legs. “Are you comfortable?”
Neela held onto her hand when she tried to pull away. “It’s perfect, but you’re not here to wait on us. You’re injured too.”
“I’m fine, really.”
Neela placed a hand on her stomach and her skin paled. “Would you mind passing me that trashcan over there. All the jostling on the ride home has my stomach acting up again.”
“Could it possibly be the concussion, Doctor Sahjani?”
Bina chuckled. “Clever girl.”
Jordan placed the trashcan on the floor beside Neela and looked around the room. She suddenly felt out of place. The first time she’d been here, she’d practically forced herself on Neela over the back of this sofa. The second time, Neela had tried to seduce her against the same piece of furniture. Now Neela lounged across the rich leather helpless and needy, and Jordan felt something entirely different, more understated. She shook her head and refocused. “Can I get either of you anything?”
“Masala chai tea,” Bina said, “and my medicine. Then I will need a long nap.”
To anyone else, Bina’s requests might have sounded demanding or even presumptuous, but to Jordan they felt comforting and inclusive. She had a purpose for being here, and these two women trusted her to care for them. But could she? She couldn’t even care for a dog properly. Bex always said her nurturing skills wouldn’t register on a meter. But she owed these women. She’d failed them twice and wasn’t letting that happen again.
“How about you, Neela? Coffee? Water?”
“Not right now, but thank you.”
Jordan boiled Bina’s tea in milk just the way she liked it and poured it into her sippy cup, placed the cup and her array of medicines on a serving tray, and balanced it in her right hand as she walked into the den. “Here you go.”
Bina’s eyes blinked open and she sighed. “Maybe just my medicine. I am suddenly very tired. Could you help me to my room, please?”
Jordan opened the twist bottles and distributed the pills into Bina’s outstretched hand and then waited for her to wash them down. A few minutes later, Bina was settled in her large master suite one room away from Neela’s and sound asleep. Jordan tiptoed back to the family room.
“You’re really good with her. She doesn’t let many people see her frailty, and I don’t trust just anyone with her care. I don’t know how to thank you for what you’ve done for us. You saved my life last night.”
Jordan didn’t want to have this conversation. She kept reliving the things she hadn’t done that led to Neela’s injury. She looked around the room, shifting her weight from side to side.
“Oh my God, you’re feeling guilty about this, aren’t you?”
She motioned to Neela’s leg and the large bump on her forehead. “You could’ve been killed. This lunatic invaded your home and then tried to shoot you while I’ve been…” She started to say unable
to find a single lead, but it was worse than that. Time for some real honesty. She raised her eyes to Neela’s. “While I’ve been playing games and fucking you at every opportunity. How pathetic is that? I’ve been risking your life while pretending to be a detective and a protection officer.”
Neela reached out to her, but Jordan backed away. The only people who had ever reached for her were the ones who meant her harm. Her response was involuntary, but the feeling wasn’t the same. Part of her wanted, no, needed, to be touched. Neela tried again. “If you don’t come here, I’ll get up on this fractured leg and come get you. I’m serious.”
Was Neela actually trying to comfort her when she was the one who’d messed up? Jordan’s heart swelled, and the look in Neela’s eyes made her ache for her in a way that exceeded anything sexual. She stepped to the side of the sofa, and when Neela pulled her down beside her, she didn’t resist.
Neela took Jordan’s face in her hands and forced her to meet her gaze. “You, my wonderfully brave and tormented hero, are the only reason I’m alive right now. You sacrificed yourself for another human being. You couldn’t have been any less selfish.”
“But I failed…again.” Jordan felt the tears welling and looked away.
“What do you mean again?” Jordan shook her head. “Tell me, darling.”
“I’m here to help you and Bina, not to burden you with my crap.”
Neela swung her good leg around Jordan and pulled her back between her legs. “That’s the thing about caring for someone. It goes both ways.”
With her back pressed against Neela’s chest, Jordan felt her steady heartbeat and anchored herself in the constancy of it. She’d never told anyone about this part of her life, but she’d never imagined wanting to. “I had a friend, Amy White. She was only a year younger but very petite and frail. The bigger kids picked on her and I…” She swallowed hard.
“You looked after her.”
“I tried, but one night they got to her while I was in the hospital with pneumonia. Three of them…raped her and beat her almost to death.”
“Oh my God, Jordan.” Neela’s arms tightened around her, and she held on.
“She got pregnant and…the abortion…went wrong. I never saw her again. She…died.” Jordan couldn’t stop the tears as she finally allowed herself to cry for Amy. She’d held back all these years, afraid of relinquishing the feelings that held her together. The abyss of grief shrank a little as her tears washed some of the hurt away.
Neela’s chest heaved against her back as she sobbed with her. “I’m so sorry, Jordan. So very, very sorry.”
“I failed both of you. The only difference is you’re not—”
“And that’s because of you. You didn’t fail either of us. You couldn’t have fought for Amy. You were just a child, with pneumonia. And you sacrificed yourself completely for me last night. Failure isn’t in your makeup. You’re one of the bravest people I’ve ever known.”
“I don’t feel brave. I feel like a coward who hides behind the past and uses sex to get by.”
“Not many people would sacrifice themselves for somebody else, even if it is their job. And it took courage to tell me about Amy. I know it wasn’t easy, but now I understand you a little better and your aversion to professionals who are supposed to protect others.” She kissed the side of Jordan’s neck. “I’m sorry about your friend.”
“Benjamin Brownworth was a hack abortion doctor and self-proclaimed counselor. He was responsible for a couple of deaths and the sterilization of several young women, not to mention his other vile acts. By the time I could do anything about it as a cop, he was dead.”
“And you’re still fighting to help people. I’d say that makes you courageous and noble.”
Jordan pressed the back of Neela’s hands to her wet cheeks and absorbed their warmth as more tears fell. “Amy accepted me immediately, like she saw something no one else did. I feel like that with Bina.”
“It’s scary how wise she is sometimes. She sees the good in everyone, and she wouldn’t be so fond of you otherwise. You don’t seem to see what’s obvious to us.”
Jordan tried to believe Neela’s words and let them seep into the wounded places in her soul. She hadn’t cried in years, and the release was like opening a pressure valve on a system ready to explode. For the first time, she felt truly cared for and supported. She had no idea how long they cried and rocked in each other’s arms, but when she opened her eyes again, the mantel clock read almost two in the morning.
“Neela. Neela, wake up. You need to go to bed.”
Neela tightened her arms around Jordan. “Only if you come with me.”
“Let’s go.” She had no intention of sleeping with Neela, but she had to persuade her to lie down and rest. She helped Neela to her room and waited while she brushed her teeth and settled under the covers.
“Come here.” Neela motioned for Jordan to join her in the king-sized bed.
“I’m not getting in.”
“Why? Afraid I’ll attack you? Because if you are, I think you’re safe, for the moment. Our injuries are on opposite sides but not conducive to romping just yet. Come on. I just want to be close to you tonight.”
Jordan hungered for Neela yet craved the comfort of holding her as she’d done earlier. Perhaps that was what intimacy was all about, sharing without expecting anything in return, giving without being asked, and caring when the outcome was uncertain. She didn’t deserve Neela’s sex or her intimacy, not yet. She’d taken too much and given too little in return. And she’d almost lost her. The thought was unfathomable.
“I can’t. Not tonight. But I will sit with you until you fall asleep.” She pulled a chair alongside the bed and took Neela’s hand. “Sleep.”
“Tell me a story.”
“About what?” All Jordan’s tales were bad ones, nothing conducive to sleep.
Neela skimmed her finger over Jordan’s top lip. “Tell me how you got the scar.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. That one wasn’t too bad. “I was twelve and totally into anything remotely daring. I fell in love with motocross. I guess you could say it was my first mistress—exciting, demanding, challenging—and did it ever turn me on.”
“So you really have always been a speed demon.”
“Guess so. At first I just enjoyed the rush, but then I became good at it and made a little money.” She didn’t tell Neela how the orphanage had prostituted her skills and stolen her money. “This one race, I was whipping over the course, leading the pack. The guy in second nudged my back wheel with his front when we were going around a curve and sent me spinning. I lost control and presto. Instant beauty mark.”
“It sure is, beautiful, like everything about you. Watching you tell that story, I could almost see the innocent little kid with so much enthusiasm.” Her voice was soft and dreamy.
Jordan’s leg shook in a nervous rhythm. She’d never been an innocent kid, and the enthusiasm Neela imagined was nothing more than fear, a desperate attempt at self-preservation, and a young girl dreaming of escape.
Neela leaned over and kissed her lightly before snuggling Jordan’s hand between her breasts like a pillow. “Good night, my brave hero, and thanks for the story.” She was asleep a few seconds later.
Chapter Fourteen
Neela rolled over and felt a heavy thump against her left leg, followed by a dull throbbing in her right. Hairline fracture. Jordan was no longer beside her bed or even in the room. She pulled on her robe, tightened the soft cast on her leg, and started down the hall to check on Bina. She didn’t get far.
Outside the bedroom between her suite and Bina’s, Jordan sat propped against the closed door wrapped in the worn blanket from the sofa. A couple of decorative pillows supported her left arm, and under her right leg, Neela saw the butt of her service weapon. From her position, she had a direct line of sight down the hallway to the front door and easy access to the back of the house. Tears filled her eyes as she stared at Jordan’s lovely face so ung
uarded in sleep juxtaposed with the weapon of battle.
“Like the sun and the moon,” Bina whispered. She stood beside Neela, apparently seeing the same thing in Jordan’s face that she had. “We must help her sun burn away the darkness.”
She hugged Bina to her side. “I’m not sure she’ll let us. She’s been deeply hurt.”
“We must try, Beta.”
Neela thought about the few minutes of intimacy she’d shared with Jordan the evening before. Until now the only indication of Jordan’s passion was her ravenous hunger for sex and uncontrollable anger. Last night, she’d seen emotions she’d begun to doubt existed in her tormented bodyguard. Jordan had dropped her defenses, shared the loss of her friend, and allowed herself to be comforted as she cried—something Neela bet didn’t happen very often. The only downside was now she wanted more.
Jordan’s left arm dropped off the stack of pillows and she jerked. She jumped to her feet and grabbed her weapon at the same time, the serenity of a few seconds ago replaced by an almost primal look of protectiveness. “What’s wrong?” She moved between them and the door. “Are you all right?”
Neela raised her hands to signal surrender. “We’re fine, just getting up. We didn’t mean to disturb you.” She nodded toward the gun Jordan held raised shoulder height.
“Oh, sorry.” She tucked the weapon in the back of her jeans. “How are you both?”
“Ready for morning tea,” Bina said, taking Jordan’s arm and leading her into the kitchen. “Why did you sleep on the floor? Did my daughter not offer you a bed?”
A tinge of pink colored Jordan’s cheeks, and Neela said, “Mama, don’t start.”
“Jordan is our guest. She should not sleep in the hall like a guard dog.”
“Oh, God. I have to go. I forgot.” She kissed Neela and Bina on the cheek and started toward the door.”
“Stop.” Bina’s voice was so authoritative even Neela turned from the coffee-making to look. “Where do you think you are going before breakfast? Nobody leaves my house without coffee or tea, quality time, and food, in that order.”