by Ronica Black
Chandler’s eyes fluttered as the door closed behind Meg. Slowly, she opened them and took lengthy blinks before focusing on Sarah’s face. A spark flickered in the green depths of her eyes and she smiled.
With her heart fluttering, Sarah smiled in return.
“I would ask how I look, but I’m afraid of the answer.” Chandler spoke with a surprisingly strong voice.
Sarah nearly cried at hearing her speak again. She reached out and stroked her face, needing to feel her alive and okay. Chandler looked at her with surprise and sighed at the touch.
Sarah felt the heat rush to her cheeks as she took in her beauty. Some color was back in her face and she felt warm and soft. “You look better than anything I’ve ever seen.”
She meant every word. She had prayed night and day to any and every god she could think of that Chandler would recover. Seeing her, hearing her, feeling her…it was truly a miracle.
“Smooth talker.” Chandler’s eyes flashed with life and then grew serious. “I’m surprised to see you.” She looked off, deep in thought, and grew quiet.
Sarah trembled inwardly, nearly breaking at Chandler’s words. “I know. I’ve run from you a lot. And I’m so sorry. I was just so afraid and…”
“Afraid of what? Of me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Oh God, how can I tell you all that you make me feel? Sarah lowered her eyes and forced herself to try. “Because you make me feel, Chandler. Because you reach into me, move me.”
“Why is that something to fear?”
Sarah thought and noted just how different they were. She was controlled and reserved, while Chandler was passionate and emotional. It wasn’t a surprise that Chandler didn’t understand.
“Because I’ve never felt like that before,” Sarah explained. “At first I thought it was just great sex…” She trailed off and Chandler laughed a little.
“The sex was good, wasn’t it?”
“Unbelievably so.”
A moment of silence passed and then Chandler cocked her head. “You’re not falling for me are you, Officer Monroe?” She squeezed Sarah’s hand playfully, an obvious attempt to ease the tension. But Sarah didn’t respond, her voice overwhelmed by the answer that waited. Chandler watched, her face growing serious. “Are you?”
“Yes,” Sarah finally managed to say, her voice thick with emotion. “When I found out you were hurt, I nearly died inside. And I was so mad at myself for not telling you sooner how I felt. For not giving you a chance.”
“Tell me how you feel,” Chandler said softly.
Full of so many different emotions, Sarah decided to let them out, whether they made sense or not. “Alive. Crazy. Floating. Burning. Elated. And terrified, by all of it. And then with the shooting…I was scared out of my mind at the thought of losing you. Like my heart was being torn bit by bit, my soul ripped out of my chest.” She paused and lowered her voice.
Chandler watched and listened, her face coloring with emotion. She tried to smile, but it was obvious she was fighting back tears.
Sarah continued, holding Chandler’s hand with both of her own. “But more than any of those feelings,” she whispered, “I feel grateful. Grateful at having you here. At getting another shot.”
Tears fell from Chandler’s bright eyes. “You mean, you actually want to see me again?” she teased.
“If it’s something you want.” This is the life I want. The place I want to be. Here. And with you. I don’t need to run anymore.
Chandler looked away, emotion threatening to break. “I’m afraid you’ll run again.”
The words tore at Sarah’s exposed heart. “And I’m afraid you’ll stir things in me I’ve never felt before. I’m afraid you’ll grab hold of my heart and force me to feel.”
“Then why do this?” Chandler seemed genuinely willing to give her room to be and do only what was comfortable for her.
“Because I can’t bear to think of being without you. Because I’m no longer going to let my fears rule my decisions.” Sarah waited patiently, having given Chandler all she could at the present moment. But she feared it wasn’t going to be enough.
“Promise me something,” Chandler finally said.
Sarah nodded. “Anything.”
“If you feel like running…instead of taking off, could you try and talk to me about it first?”
Sarah held back some of her own emotion. Chandler was going to give it another shot. It was what she wanted, more than anything.
“Okay,” she whispered.
Chandler smiled warmly, obviously content with the promise. “We’ll work through things together. It might not be easy, but I happen to think you’re cute and worth the fight.”
“Well, I think I’ll own up to that promise right now, that is, if you don’t mind.”
Chandler eyed her curiously. “You’re not itching to run out on me already, are you?”
Sarah laughed and shook her head. “No. But I do owe you some sort of explanation for doing so before.”
Chandler sat up straighter and gripped her hand. “No, you don’t. You don’t owe me anything.”
She didn’t want Sarah to feel like she had to do anything. All she wanted was to be with her. “If you want to tell me something, then please do so of your own free will. Don’t do it out of obligation.”
Sarah patted her hand. “It’s okay, Chan. I want to. I want you to know.” She inhaled deeply. “My father recently passed away.”
Chandler felt her throat burn with emotion. While she was thrilled that Sarah was telling her, she also hurt for her. “I’m so sorry.”
“He was sick, and had been for some time.” Sarah breathed deep again, obviously searching for strength. “I didn’t have a good relationship with my folks. They both drank heavily throughout my childhood. Our home was always one big party. I resented them from very early on and virtually raised myself.” She met Chandler’s eyes. “I’m sure, with you being a psychologist, you can see what it probably did to me.”
“Of course. That alone explains a lot.”
Sarah nodded. “It’s why I value control so much, why it was important for me to have my life and surroundings absolutely organized.”
“It was the only way you felt safe,” Chandler interpreted softly.
“Yes.” Another sigh. “There’s something else.”
“Okay.”
“When I was thirteen, one of my father’s friends began to sexually abuse me.”
“That’s terrible, Sarah.” She held her hand tighter.
“My parents didn’t know. They were too drunk to notice it going on right underneath their noses. I resented them for it, blamed them for it.”
“I can understand why.”
“For years I thought about telling them, of yelling it to them, screaming in their face. But when I walked in that room that night and saw my father lying there so weak, so sick, all of the bad feelings, they vanished. It suddenly didn’t matter anymore. Not as far as they were concerned.” She fell silent, her voice quivering.
Chandler thought for a long while before speaking. “Have you dealt with your feelings in regard to this abuser?”
Sarah nodded. “I went to see him, soon after I ran from you one night. I confronted him and it helped. I know that he can’t hurt anyone else. Not anymore.”
“What happened to him?”
“He’s in prison.” Sarah paused, her voice catching. “He’s a prisoner of his mind, trapped in his body.”
“I don’t understand.”
“He was attacked years ago. Beaten nearly to death with a hammer by the boyfriend of one of his victims.”
“Oh my God.” Chandler covered her mouth, disturbed.
“He’s immobile now, unable to speak or even stand.”
“Did seeing him like that make you feel better?”
“No.”
“What did?”
“Seeing the recognition in his eyes. Knowing that he knew who I was. And that I was
no longer afraid. I was no longer his victim.”
“I see,” Chandler responded. “Are you okay now? Okay with the way things are?” Have you found your peace, Sarah? Do I make you feel safe, as safe as you make me feel?
“A month ago, I would’ve said having my life just the way I wanted was what I wanted. Concentrating on my goals and achieving them, leaving this place and never looking back. Going off to the FBI. I would’ve said that was what I wanted. That was what made me feel okay.”
“What about now? What makes you feel safe now?” Chandler repeated softly, needing to know, dying to know.
“Honestly?”
“Yes.”
“You.”
“Me?” Chandler felt her bones melt with a warmth she had never felt before.
“Yes. I can’t explain it, but I feel like I can tell you anything and that you’ll understand, that you’ll stand by me. Even if we never had a physical relationship again, I feel like you are the friend I’ve always longed for, and needed.”
Chandler smiled through her pooling tears and reached up to stroke Sarah’s face. “We are still going to have a physical relationship, aren’t we?” She laughed softly, seeing the desire haze Sarah’s eyes as she touched her.
Sarah cleared her throat. “Just as soon as you’re ready.”
“There’s no harm in fooling around a little in the meantime.” Chandler leaned in and met Sarah’s lips softly, melting into their warmth.
Sarah kissed her back gently and Chandler attempted to shift closer but the pain stopped her. Groaning, she pulled away and was moved by the burning innocence in Sarah’s eyes. She was so vulnerable and fresh and alive.
“You sure you’re up for all this? With me and my wild ways?” She wasn’t just referring to the sex, but to everything. The way she lived her life, with spontaneity and passion.
Sarah sighed playfully. “As much as I hate to admit it, it’s what draws me to you.”
“Really?”
“Your passion, your emotion. You truly live life, and feel it. So different from me.”
“And I love your levelheadedness,” Chandler said. “Your ability to live life with a distant, calm assessment. So strong, so wise…”
“So boring.”
“What?” Chandler laughed and wiped a tear. “No. Oh no. Hardly boring. Your attitude, your confidence, your quiet, controlled grace. It’s sexy. Very sexy. And intriguing.”
“It’s an illusion,” Sarah said.
“No, it’s not. Not all of it. I was wrong about you, Sarah. Wrong about a lot of things. You’re strong and capable and willing to confront your demons. I’m proud of you for that and honored that you’re willing to talk to me about it.”
“What about you? What about your demons?”
Chandler thought for a moment, a little surprised at the question. What about her demons? The sense of emptiness, the loneliness, the trying desperately to avoid feeling that void by pushing the limit. She thought about that pain, about the loss she’d never recovered from. Tears tightened her throat. She thought about seeing that pain in Hank’s eyes again as she lay in the hospital bed. She saw it in Meg’s eyes. And she knew how badly it hurt to feel that pain of loss. Because as she lay there, watching her family cry, she’d allowed that pain to enter her mind. She felt it full force and mourned for her parents in the way she should’ve done years ago.
“I finally let them go,” she said, thinking of her parents and how she’d imagined them surrounded in warm light and smiling down upon her. “I’ve opened my mind and my heart.” She smiled, thinking of her niece, growing inside Kelly, Hank’s hand resting on his wife’s belly. And then she thought of Sarah, and how whole the woman made her feel.
“I’m ready to live. And I want you in my life. I go home tomorrow,” she whispered. “Will you come around to welcome me?”
Sarah smiled, her eyes showing how much the words touched her. “Absolutely.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
The sun poured in through the windows as Meg opened all the blinds. Chan stood watching, loving the feel of home.
“I don’t know,” Meg said, eyeing her with concern. “You sure you’re going to be okay?”
They had only arrived an hour before, and Meg was obviously worried about leaving her alone. Chan, however, was ready to get her life back.
“I’ll be fine.” She traced the tops of the cushions of her couch as she walked by, lost in the warm glow of the sun. She stood in front of the back door and gazed out into the yard. Unconsciously, she turned the knob and her heart rate slowed a little when she found it to be locked. She looked down through the pane of glass on the French door, hoping but finding nothing.
“Mitote?” she asked.
Meg busied herself rearranging some of the flowers they had brought home from the hospital. “I haven’t seen him.”
“It’s been such a long time,” Chan said, worried about her missing cat.
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” Meg fussed around her some more.
“I’m going to be fine. Now go.” Chan grinned and wandered into the front room.
She expected to find the front door looking overly large and ominous, but it seemed rather plain to her now that she was facing it. Her eyes panned the floor. It was bare, the rug long gone, stained forever with blood. Unlike her life, though, the rug could be replaced. She continued to look around and relaxed even more as she noted the normalcy of her home.
Meg came to stand beside her, cupping her elbow.
“I guess I’ll be shopping for a new rug,” Chan said.
It was the only thing that needed to be done, and for that she was eternally grateful. Her body would heal and so would her home.
Meg pulled her in for a hug. “I could stay. For as long as you need me. I could sleep in the spare bedroom.”
Chan gave a laugh. She knew her grandmother was worried, but life had to go on. She placed her hands on Meg’s shoulder and looked her square in the eye. “Go,” she repeated.
“Okay, okay. But if you need me, promise you’ll call.”
They headed back through the house to the door that led to the garage where they stopped and faced one another again.
“I promise.” Chan held Meg close and felt her stifle a sob. She pulled back and took her face in her hands. “I love you,” she said.
Meg’s eyes widened with surprise. Chan rarely spoke such strong words. Beaming, she said, “I love you too.”
*
Sarah stood at the front door, a nervous wreck. She had hoped to be there earlier but she had spent the afternoon shopping, preparing, and calming her nerves. As the sun set behind her, she took a deep breath and rang the doorbell. She bounced a little on the balls of her feet and tightened her grip on the grocery bags she was holding. She heard the click of the lock before she could muster something suave to say.
Chan opened the door slowly and smiled. An inner glow lit up her form, and Sarah stood in awe, completely turned on by the tomboy in front of her.
“Wow.” It was a whisper, but it was heard.
Chan glanced down at her attire, suddenly self-conscious. “I didn’t get a chance to change.”
She had been busy in her office trying to get caught up on work. Time had simply slipped by as she sat comfortably at her desk doing the work that felt wonderfully familiar. Work she used to put off. She took a step back to allow Sarah to enter.
Sarah stepped inside, her eyes still glued to Chan. “Why would you change? You look incredible.”
She was a little thinner than before, her body marked by what had occurred. But she was still strong and athletic looking, proof positive that she would make it through. Sarah swallowed hard, moved by the emotion of what had happened and moved more by the strength of her. She was beautiful.
Chan glanced down and fingered the thin material of her white tank top. “I could’ve put on something a little more appropriate. This is just more comfortable against my wound.”
“
No don’t,” Sarah let out before she could stop herself. “Change, that is.” She felt her cheeks flood with heat.
Her eyes swept over the threadbare material stretching taut across Chan’s generous breasts. The nipples were soft and the surrounding skin just dark enough to show through the fabric. Sarah nervously looked downward, concentrating instead on the flannel sleep pants, which hugged her hips just right.
Chan watched her and laughed softly. It seemed her innocent choice of pajamas was doing more than most lingerie. “You’re blushing, Officer Monroe.”
“I know.” Sarah was intensely aware of feelings so fresh and powerful she couldn’t deny them if she wanted to. “It’s just good to see you so…healthy.”
“It’s good to see you too,” Chan said, a little breathless.
Sarah stood very still, trying to get a grip on her swirling insides. The air between them grew heavy and thick, difficult to breathe. Chan was watching her too, her breathing short and shallow. Sarah read her eyes and knew what it was they both wanted. Slowly she bent down and released the bags. Her body tingled, alive with the need to take her in. All of her. Her scent, her breath, her skin. She stepped into her and paused a mere inch away. The lightning between them ricocheted, electrifying her heart, tightening her chest. She could almost see it as it branched upward from Chan’s midsection, veining up through her, heating her cheeks, and making her tremble.
Sarah fought to breathe. She reached out, a moment frozen in time, and touched her skin, caressed her jaw. “I want to kiss you,” she whispered, somehow finding her voice. She caught her scent as she leaned in, amber and lavender.
“Please do.” Chan felt the other woman shudder just before they touched.
Their lips met softly, and Sarah sighed at the feel of her. Warm, plump, and sensuous. Chan’s breath caressed her, tentative yet ready, encouraging her further. Sarah pressed in against her and then took the lips into her own, needing to feel as much of Chan as she could. She massaged the warm flesh, holding each lip captive, tasting, feeling, yearning. Her tongue probed gently, slowly lining Chan and then dipping into her parted mouth. It was hot, soft, wet.
