Toby Neal: Blood Orchids

“You did what you had to do,” he repeated. “And I’m proud of you.” Abruptly he got up, paced back and forth. “Guy was the worst kind of scum, a police officer preying on women. It’s going to take me awhile to stop wishing I could be the one to kill him.” He scrubbed his hands through his hair in that familiar gesture, took a breath. “I’ll be back to pick you up at ten-thirty. Oh, and after the press conference you have an appointment with Dr. Wilson.”

“That was inevitable, but I’m not sure I’m ready to talk about it.”

“Lieutenant’s orders,” he said, leaning down to give her a kiss on the forehead. “See you soon. Put your game face on.” He hooked his jacket off the chair and closed the door behind him.

It seemed like only a short time later she was standing in front of the police station behind a lectern, surrounded by bristling microphones, lights shining in her eyes. It wasn’t hard to look pale. She leaned on Pono for support.

“Officer Texeira was abducted two nights ago,” Lieutenant Ohale started off. “She was able to overpower her assailant and he is now deceased. We then searched his home, and have found proof that he not only killed Haunani Pohakoa and Kelly Andrade, but was responsible for a series of kidnap rapes that began on Oahu and ended here with the recent kidnapping and murder of another police officer from Puna. The perpetrator’s name is Jeremy Ito and he was a detective here in Hilo.”

The crowd of reporters exploded with questions, and he raised his hands and outstretched them, Moses calming the Red Sea.

“And now if you’ll settle down, Detective Stevens will take questions.”

Stevens replaced him, taking questions from the crowd. Pono sheltered Lei with his bulk, and then steered her by the elbow through the reporters as the press conference ended. He pushed open the double glass doors of the station and walked her to her cubicle.

She held court for a while in her creaky office chair with the officers that stopped by. It seemed Jeremy had not been well liked, and she nodded and smiled as different staff came up to tell her “something was off about him,” and how glad they were she had survived. Finally Lieutenant Ohale shooed her visitors away.

“So of course you know you’re on admin leave until your investigation wraps up. Take it easy, get better. Now it’s time to go see Dr. Wilson. No arguments,” he said as he hoisted her up gently from her chair, giving her an affectionate pat that pushed her down the hall.

She walked to the office and seemed to fall into Dr. Wilson’s arms as the psychologist opened the door.

“Thank God you’re alive. Come in here and tell me all about it.” And Lei did.

Lei showered, letting the hot water pummel the hurts on her body, careful with the plastic bag that kept her cast dry. Getting out of the shower, she grimaced at the ragged bite on her collarbone, and swallowed one of the antibiotics the doc had sent home with a swish of water. She daubed the oozing wound with ointment and re-covered it with a big, square band-aid. It looked like it was going to leave a scar.

Her lip was puffy and split where she’d bitten it, and bruises peppered her torso where Ito had punched her during the struggle. She stripped off the plastic bag on her arm and slipped on a silky tee shirt that managed to cover all the bruises.

She wanted to look as nice as she could-Stevens was on his way over for dinner.

She was checking on a pan of reheated, roast kalua pork from Aunty’s restaurant when the doorbell rang. She glanced at herself in the mirror next to the front door and was not reassured. After checking the peephole, she opened the door, her heart racing.

“Hi Michael. Thanks for coming.”

He held up a bottle of wine. “Medicinal purposes.”

“Thanks.” She took it, laughed. “I’m really going to enjoy this with my Vicodin.”

“You’ll have a helluva hangover.” He followed her into the kitchen.“Got a present for you.” He set the bulky bundle he had been carrying down on the table. “New gun. Thought you should have a backup.”

“Michael!” She hugged him, hard. “That’s what I like about you-you bring me alcohol and a gun. I can’t think of anything I want more.”

“I can,” he said softly, intent. He raised her arms slowly from his waist and put them around his neck, then pulled her in tight, his hands cupped around her bottom as he lowered his head to hers. She hardly noticed her bruised mouth as their lips met, asking and taking.

She’d wanted him so long, and his touch seemed to erase those other hands that had left invisible prints on her. She pressed into him, her hands filling with the springy texture of his hair, the broad column of his back.

“You’re too short,” he said, bending over, smoothing her body with long strokes. She felt him learning the shape and feel of her.

“You’re too tall,” she said, straining upward to reach his neck with her mouth. He pushed her back and lifted her up onto the counter. She wrapped her legs around his waist, rubbing against his jeans.

Hungry to feel the roughness of his chest against the curves of hers, she unbuttoned his shirt, sliding her hands in around his waist, stroking the contoured muscle. He made a low noise and whispered in her ear, kissing and nipping as he peeled her shirt off over her head, pausing to look at the bandage on her collarbone with a grimace.

He kissed the bruises on her torso gently. His tongue was a balm as he bent her back over one arm, his other hand caressing her. Lei closed her eyes and gave herself over to the waves of sensation pooling in her lower body, need stabbing almost like pain. Everywhere his mouth and hands touched felt like it was being healed, coming alive.

She sat upright again, keeping her legs tight around his waist as she trailed her fingertips and tongue over all she’d longed to touch and explore: the hollow of his throat, winged line of his collarbone, the tender whorl of his ear.

When neither could stand it any longer he carried her to the bed. The last of their clothes came off and passion made him clumsy with the condom, but when he slowly moved into her, cradled in the frame of his arms, she felt something entirely new.

Safe.

It was a long time later when she raised herself on her elbow.

“I didn’t know I could do that,” she said wonderingly. “Or that you could do that. Whichever.”

He lay as though felled, but a rumble of laughter came up from somewhere deep.

“Told you I’d make you scream.” He’d whispered it in her ear in the kitchen.

“I did not.” She smacked his shoulder.

“Ask the neighbors,” he said, his eyes still shut but a little smile on his mouth. She tugged a bit of chest hair but he only rolled over.

“C’mon. Dinner’s ready,” Lei said. The smell of her aunt’s cooking had filled the house.

She washed up and pulled on her old kimono before padding back into the kitchen and dishing up the meal. Stevens appeared in the doorway, clad only in his jeans. He gave a jaw-cracking yawn.

“If I wasn’t so hungry I’d have stayed in bed,” he said, finding a wine key in one of the drawers. He splashed the pale liquid into a pair of jelly glasses as Lei set their full plates on the table-steaming kalua pig slow-roasted in an underground oven, rice, and limp, overcooked green beans. He prodded these with his fork.

“You distracted me,” she said, picking up her glass. “To my aunty’s cooking.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

“So.”

With dinner over, he refilled their glasses.

“I love presents,” Lei said. She pushed her dishes aside and pulled the sturdy molded plastic gun case over.