Side Effects

by VK Powell

  Jordan stood in the doorway looking back and forth between her and Bina. “But, I have…a dog. I need to check on him.”

  Bina’s face lit up like an excited kid’s. “A dog? What kind? What color? How long have you had him? Where did you get him? May I see?”

  Neela started laughing. “Can you tell my mother is fond of dogs? She’s been bugging me for years to get one, but I’m not home enough to help care for him. Guess that won’t be an issue now.” Then she remembered in all the excitement she’d forgotten to tell Bina she’d quit her job. She wasn’t sure how she’d take it. “Why don’t you have Bex bring him when she drops off your clean clothes? He can stay with us, as long as you’re here. You wouldn’t have to worry about going back and forth to check on him, and he wouldn’t be alone.”

  “And we have a big backyard with a fence. He could run and play all day,” Bina said.

  Neela watched a series of emotions play across Jordan’s face—surprise, disbelief, confusion, and finally a hint of happiness as the corners of her mouth curled up.

  “Are you sure? I feel like I should go home. You don’t really need me.”

  “But we do.” Neela feigned falling over and grabbed a chair, and Bina exaggerated trying to pick up a fork and let it drop. “See, we’re hopeless.” She pointed to Bina. “And would you deny this nice lady the pleasure of playing with your dog?” Bina posed a very sad face.

  Jordan held up her hands. “Okay, but you’re both horrible actors.” She called Bex while Neela finished the coffee and then joined them around the small table. “So what is quality time?”

  Neela nodded for Bina to explain. “When my husband was alive our family gathered at this table every morning. No papers, books, television, radio, or phones allowed, just us. And we talked or just sat quietly. It was a special time reserved for family. If the world fell apart afterward, at least we had spent quality time together. After my husband died, Neela and I continued the tradition. As long as you are a guest in our home, we would like you to join us, if you want.”

  Neela saw Jordan swallow hard before she responded. “I’d love that. Thank you.”

  As Bina told stories about her childhood and teen years in Mumbai, Neela watched Jordan’s reactions. She absorbed the sagas like a child hearing fairy tales for the first time. Her cobalt eyes sparkled, her eyebrows rose in astonishment, and her gorgeous lips curved into a smile, often. This softer, more attentive side of Jordan was one she’d seldom seen, but it suited her. She could’ve hugged Bina for temporarily lifting the cloud that seemed such a permanent fixture in Jordan’s life.

  “Did you ever do anything so crazy as a teenager?”

  A veil of sadness dropped across Jordan’s features. She shifted uncomfortably and looked toward the small bathroom at the front of the house. “No, not really. I should check this bandage. Excuse me.” She put her cup in the sink. “Thank you for my first quality time.”

  When she was out of earshot, Bina said, “The key is in her childhood. Twice she has paled at the mention of family. Go to her, Beta.”

  Neela wasn’t sure Jordan would welcome her intrusion, but she couldn’t stay away. She wanted to be near her, whatever her mood or need. The desire was like a calling. She tapped on the bathroom door, waited, and tried again. “Jordan, let me help you.”

  When Jordan opened the door, her eyes were red and watery. “This hurts more than I thought.”

  “Let me.” Jordan’s polo was half on and half off. She shrugged, and Neela grabbed the hem and pulled it gently down her injured arm, dropping it on the floor. With her fingernails, she eased the taped edges of the bandage off and gasped when she saw the extent of Jordan’s injury. Her entire shoulder and the skin leading down to her breast were one ugly purple patch of bruising. The bullet hole and tearing along her flesh were ragged and raw. Suddenly all her years of medical training seemed inadequate. She wanted to heal the mangled flesh marring Jordan’s body and leave no trace of it, but her medicine wasn’t that strong.

  “I—I had no idea how bad this was.” The room suddenly felt incredibly small, and Jordan was incredibly close, gorgeous, and injured. She felt light-headed and slumped onto the side of the bathtub.

  “Neela! Are you all right?”

  She nodded and pressed her head between her knees. The image of Jordan’s scarred body, the anger at the suspect, and the need to heal and comfort her were overwhelming. “Just a little dizzy. Maybe my concussion is acting up again.” A lie, but Jordan didn’t need to deal with her emotions right now. “Sorry. I’m okay now. Let me clean and re-dress that for you. Sit.” She pointed to the toilet and lowered the lid.

  “I can do it, really. It might be better if I…if you didn’t…”

  “Jordan, darling, I have to touch you. It’s a medical necessity at this point.” She wanted to tell Jordan it was just as excruciating to touch her and not be able to have her as it was for Jordan to be touched and have to restrain herself. She wanted to ask her if she had any idea how much she wanted her right now, if she knew how much she’d love to help fight her demons. She wanted so many things with Jordan, but now wasn’t the right time.

  She pulled the first-aid kit from the cabinet and took out the supplies she’d need to clean and dress Jordan’s wound. “Come here.” She pulled Jordan to the edge of the seat and gently cleaned from the center of the wound outward. Her terry-cloth robe suddenly felt too warm with Jordan’s legs tightening on either side of hers. “Am I hurting you?”

  When she looked up, Jordan’s gaze was fixed on the front of her slightly gaping robe. Her skin burned under Jordan’s stare and her hands trembled as she taped the bandage over her wound. As she pressed the last piece of tape in place, Neela traced the bruising until it dipped into Jordan’s sports bra. Jordan’s skin dimpled beneath her fingers and her breath hitched.

  “Neela, please.”

  “Please what? Stop? Don’t stop? Please touch me, let me touch you?”

  “I want you so much—”

  Neela pressed her fingers to Jordan’s lips and then kissed her before opening the bathroom door. “That’s all I need to know right now.” Between her leg fracture and the pain of wanting Jordan so badly, Neela could barely walk. She lumbered back to the kitchen and started making breakfast.

  *

  Jordan clung to the sink as desire rippled through her, eclipsing the ache in her shoulder. She’d barely been able to contain her urges with Neela so close, smelling of sleep and sex. She’d brazenly ogled Neela’s olive breasts and dark nipples, imagining her lips sucking and pulling them to puckered points of pleasure. And when Neela had pushed her legs between Jordan’s, she’d had to concentrate on the pain of her wound to distract her from Neela’s robe slipping farther up her thigh. But she hadn’t even touched Neela.

  She stared in the mirror and tried to understand what was happening to her. A few days ago, she would’ve fucked Neela against the door, in the tub, or even on the toilet seat with her mother and a roomful of people right outside, but today had been different. Her hunger had been as strong, if not more so, but she’d controlled it somehow—not because she had to, but because she’d wanted to. Why?

  She’d told Neela about Amy and finally released some of her grief. She’d even allowed Neela to hold her and hadn’t freaked out, but one night of cuddling and a good cry couldn’t reshape a lifetime of subjugation and defiance. What had shifted inside her? Had the injury simply dulled her normal defenses?

  She splashed cold water on her face until her temperature leveled and she felt in control enough to be in the same room with Neela and her mother.

  Bina’s face flashed through her mind, filled with animation and excitement as she told the stories of her childhood. Jordan imagined herself in those scenarios, feeling the innocence of youth, the joy of play, and the certainty of safety and love. But when Bina had asked about her childhood, she’d retreated. She couldn’t splatter the ugliness of her past through a place that housed so much love. She’d chos
en not to share her secrets, but this time she felt a dusting of regret.

  She looked at her reflection again. She’d been wrong about her early dislike of Neela. That she’d considered Neela part of the conservative government, an insensitive health-care professional, and even a cheating spouse hadn’t been the problem at all. It was this—this love and compassion she wore so comfortably, so caring and concerned about everyone and everything around her. No matter how hard she tried, Jordan would never deserve a woman like Neela Sahjani.

  Drying her face and hands, Jordan looked at her watch and prayed Bex would arrive soon with fresh clothes. She considered hiding out in the bathroom until she arrived, but chided herself for being such a coward and rejoined Neela and Bina in the kitchen.

  “Bex and Liz will be here in five minutes,” Neela said as she flipped a waffle with each hand. “I’m making breakfast for everyone.”

  “Shouldn’t you be off your leg?”

  “I am.” She raised her robe to reveal a small stool tucked under her knee. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.” She gave Jordan an evil grin. “Unless you want to take over.”

  Jordan backed away. “I’m gifted in many areas, but cooking is not one of them.”

  A few minutes later Bex’s signature double-tap sounded at the front door. “I’ll get it.” Bex and Liz walked in hand in hand, and Jordan rolled her eyes while reaching for her overnight bag. She gave Blue a quick pat and ruffled his white fur. “I’ll be back in a few. I need these clothes badly. Would you mind introducing Blue to everyone and getting him settled in the backyard?”

  “Sure, and I’ll share the headlines with everybody over coffee.” She waved the morning paper as they headed down the hallway. “Neela’s public resignation was eclipsed only slightly by the shooting. Not sure it’s appropriate breakfast reading though.”

  Jordan had a quick shower and slid into clean underwear, bra, and another pair of black jeans and a T-shirt with RUN on the front. When she rejoined the others in the kitchen, Neela was just putting the food on the table.

  Liz pointed to Jordan’s T-shirt. “Exercise statement?”

  “Warning.”

  Liz raised her hands and wiggled her fingers. “Wooh, I’m scared.”

  They gathered around the table and started reaching for food. “Aren’t we waiting for Bina?” Jordan asked.

  Neela pointed in the direction of her bedroom. “She’s taking a nap. She had a quick bite while I was cooking and then played with Blue for a few minutes. You’ve ruined any chance I have of ever living without a dog again.”

  “Did you tell her about your job?” Liz asked as she forked a waffle.

  Neela nodded. “I think she’s actually happy I quit, aside from the fact I won’t have a steady income anymore and no insurance.”

  “Does that mean you’ll be my partner?” Liz sliced off a chunk of ham and was about to bite down when she looked up.

  Heat started low in Jordan’s gut and roared up as she stared at Liz across the table. Images of her and Neela coming out of the house after their night together sliced through her. Jealousy gouged her insides. She envied the closeness Liz and Rose shared with Neela.

  “No—no, detective.” Liz sputtered.

  “Not like that, Jordan,” Bex said.

  Neela rubbed Jordan’s arm and settled her cool hand on the back of her neck. “Liz is talking about a business partnership, about opening a lab together.”

  Jordan took a long drink of water before trusting herself to speak calmly. “How will that help your income and insurance situation?”

  Liz explained. “My investors already have an established company. They’d finance our work as an umbrella under their business. That way, we get salaries and insurance but still maintain autonomy over our stem-cell research.”

  Jordan gave Liz credit. It sounded like she knew her stuff and was serious about the work, but she still wasn’t sure how she felt about her and Neela working together every day, given their history. “Sounds like a cushy deal for you, but what do the investors get out of it?”

  “A percentage of the proceeds from our research, and that will be significant.” Liz popped a piece of toast into her mouth. “Pretty sweet idea, don’t you think, detective?”

  Jordan leaned toward Liz, her stare never wavering. “I have two things to say. First, don’t mess with Neela, in any way…unless she wants you to. And second, if you’re dating my best friend, I’d prefer you call me Jordan.” A collective sigh eased the tension around the table, and Liz nodded.

  Bex’s grin was one Jordan had seen before, relief mixed with mischief. She already had her and Neela setting up house. “Does this mean you and Neela are together now?”

  “No, Bex. It doesn’t.” Neela’s voice was calm and matter-of-fact, her smile warm and open. “It means Jordan cares about my welfare and my mother’s. And to answer your question, Liz, yes. I’ll be your business partner. Get the ball rolling. I need to work.”

  Jordan worried briefly that she might’ve overstepped, but Neela hadn’t objected when she’d cautioned Liz. Still something felt off. Had it bothered her when Neela had declared they weren’t together? What did “together” mean anyway? She’d never understood how women met, had sex, and then settled down so quickly. Obviously, her injury and blood loss were affecting her emotions and her ability to think. “Bex, did you bring the case notes or have you been too busy?”

  “Can I finish my breakfast first? This is fantastic.” Bex shoveled more food into her mouth and winked at Jordan.

  “Fine, but soon. I think I might’ve found—” Jordan’s cell phone vibrated in her pocket and she fished it out. “Hello?”

  “Milton, here. Get your ass to my office ASAP to debrief on this clusterfuck. Internal Affairs and the CAP detectives need a statement.”

  “Yes, sir, on my way.” She hung up and looked at the small group around the table. She didn’t want to leave Neela alone, even with Bex nearby. Her friend was too fixated on her new lust buddy to remain focused on work.

  “Go,” Bex said. “I know what you’re thinking, and I’ll take care of Neela. Besides, we need to go in shifts. I’m sure I’ll be called in after you.”

  Jordan didn’t want to verbalize her next thought, but Neela needed to know what to expect. “Since you’ve resigned, your protection detail may be over. You’re not a high-profile state employee anymore, and even with the threats against your life, the department might not be willing to continue the expense of full-time coverage.”

  Neela placed her hand on Jordan’s forearm. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. Go. Do what you have to…and come back to me.”

  Jordan couldn’t move for several seconds. She’d never had a place where she felt the possibility of a real future and a home. But Neela and Bina represented the essence of home. And Neela wanted her to come back—to her. She leaned forward to kiss Neela but drew back when she remembered Bex and Liz.

  “Go on, kiss her,” Liz urged her.

  “Yeah, you big softie,” Bex said again.

  Neela just grinned, obviously waiting for her to decide if she wanted to make that statement in front of their friends.

  She pulled Neela against her and kissed her until everything else disappeared. She dissolved into the heat and softness of her lips, the teasing of her tongue, and the hot press of her body. When she finally pulled away, she was wet. “I’ll…soon…see. Mean…see…soon.”

  Neela kissed her again and nudged her toward the door with promises of more. “Hurry.”

  She closed the door and Jordan stood on the stoop, never wanting to be away from her or this place, too comfortable with both. Her resolution to leave Neela alone, only a short while ago, had vanished. Shaking her head, she ran toward her car and a few minutes later walked into Sergeant Milton’s office.

  “The chief is crawling my ass. How did you manage to let this woman get injured?”

  “I asked for more protection. I wasn’t comfortable with the large gathering an
d only four officers.”

  Milton glowered at her. “It’s not your job to second-guess my decisions, only to protect one little woman.”

  Jordan flashed to the image of Neela on the ground, blood covering her chest and the uncertainty of whether she was dead or alive. “In case you didn’t notice, I took a bullet for that woman. I’m not sure what else you’d expect me to do under the circumstances.”

  Milton shuffled papers on his desk but didn’t look up. “Get out. The detectives are waiting to take your statement.”

  She didn’t need to be told twice. “What about the detail?”

  He shook his head and glared at her like she was stupid. “As you so aptly put it, you took a bullet for her. If we called off the assignment now, we’d be crucified in the press if something worse happened to her. We’ve established an expected standard of care, so we’re stuck with the detail for the time being, but obviously you’re no longer on it.”

  Jordan released her grip on the doorknob. “What do you mean?”

  “Look at yourself. You’re shot and your arm is in a sling. How can you protect anybody like that, even yourself? A few days ago you were bitching to get off the detail. Now you want to stay?” She started to answer, but he raised his hand. “Don’t. I’ll consider reinstating you when you’re back on full duty. In the meantime, you’re riding a desk. Let me know when the doctor releases you for light duty.”

  Assigning a police officer to a desk was like caging a wild animal. Being so confined reminded her of the orphanage, unable to go anywhere or do anything without permission. Her skin itched, and she scratched to relieve a discomfort that burrowed beneath the surface.

  *

  As she headed back to Neela’s house, she vowed to find out who was behind the attempts on Neela’s life. She refused to entrust her safety to anyone else entirely, not even her best friend. When she pulled into the driveway and saw a stranger’s car instead of Bex’s, she sprinted toward the door. The two officers in the vehicle out front appeared preoccupied.