Beneath the Cracks

by LS Sygnet

  Still, I wondered if the tables were turned and I was the one lying in the hospital bed facing what could be the end of my life, if I would be facing it alone. Of course Maya would be there – provided I bothered to open up and share what was going on.

  But would Johnny drop everything for me like Ken had for Maya? Sure, he made no bones about what he wanted from me. That didn't mean it would apply when the going got rough. What if his play to get Seleeby reined in hadn't worked? Would Johnny have simply tossed up his hands and muttered something about giving it a shot?

  I twisted off the cap on the second bottle of scotch. Had I bought six bottles? Drunk two? I rubbed my eyes. One empty. Two full. Oh boy. This is drunk, and I still don't feel like a hard woman yet.

  My fingers grappled for the purse I dropped on the concrete floor of the lanai. Phone. Wake the screen. Dial the number. Simple, right?

  Touch screens are a bitch to drunken fingers. I struggled with the slide mechanism that would unlock the screen and twice opened the mail application instead of the phone function. At last, I saw the numeric pad. Slowly, I dialed the numbers and stared at the screen.

  Nothing happened.

  Then I remembered to touch the call button.

  "Orion."

  My lower lip trembled.

  "Hello?"

  "Johnny?" whispered. He couldn't have heard me.

  "What's wrong, Doc?"

  I sniffled.

  "I'll be right there."

  Before I knew what was happening, Orion was scooping me out of the chaise outside and carrying me into the house. The rich aroma of coffee wafted through the air, found my nostrils and managed to stir a little life into my limbs.

  No, that wasn't what did it. Orion had one of my hands clasped between his and rubbed furiously. I noticed that the sofa was moved across the room within a few feet of my fireplace, now blazing with the flame from natural gas.

  "Johnny."

  "Hey." He didn't stop rubbing the sensation back into my hand.

  "How'd you get here so fast?"

  "You're drunk and have no concept of time."

  Uh-oh. Somebody didn't sound particularly happy.

  "You mad at me, Orion?"

  "I'm less than thrilled over your carelessness. Do you have any idea what I found when I got here?"

  "No…"

  "Gate open. Car running in the driveway, front door wide open, and you're practically comatose out in the cold, drunk off your ass."

  "Oh." I had a good reason for the alcohol, didn't I? What was it?

  Pain stabbed through my heart, and before I could push the emotion back into my gut, I was sobbing.

  Johnny dropped my hand, eyes filled with alarm. "Did I hurt you? Shit. Helen, I'm so sorry –"

  "My friend," I hiccuped. Words bubbled forth, jumbled and garbled, and I'm sure they made about as much sense to Johnny as the lost language of Atlantis. His arms wound around me and held me tightly to his chest. I wasn't sure if I was dizzy or if he was rocking me, but suddenly, I felt sick. At the same time, I clung to the comfort found outside the soul-crushing solitude my life had become. My heart kept whispering to that paranoid monster living inside my cranium, he came. He came.

  Dizziness and the general confusion of alcohol wreaked havoc on my spatial sense. The next thing I realized, Orion was lying beside me on the sofa, holding me while I sobbed what I thought was the entire story into his strong chest.

  "Hold on. Your friend has cancer?"

  "Mastectomy," I wept harder. "So bad. So hurt. So alone." Did I mean Maya or me?

  "Shh," he soothed. His hands anchored me in a world quickly spinning out of control. "It'll be all right, honey. I'm so sorry. It'll be okay, I promise."

  He couldn't, and I knew it, but appreciated the sentiment just the same. What battered my senseless defenses was that I didn't even have to ask. He came. I spoke his name, and he knew I needed him. I couldn’t deny it. I needed this man, specifically. Whatever had drawn me to him the night we first met wasn’t passing fancy. It wasn't going away by denial. And it was utterly divorced from logic.

  "Why're you so good to me?" I mumbled. "It makes no sense."

  One of the hands sliding up and down my back cupped the back of my head and tilted it until our eyes met. "Are you really asking me that question?"

  I looked into his incredulous eyes and nodded.

  "Helen." It was more of a caress to the soul than a word. "I have been falling in love with you since the day we met. Don't you know that?" His head dipped. He kissed one of my eyes, then the other.

  One hand cupped Johnny's cheek. "But you don't know me. Not really."

  "Yeah," he murmured. "I really do. I understand what makes you tick. I always have."

  More tears fell. It couldn't be true. He'd be running for the door if he knew what a monster I am. Yet something in his eyes conveyed sincerity. He believed what he said, whether I did or not. And there was something else. Maybe wonder, or disbelief at more than my simple question.

  Then he killed the moment.

  "Baby, I really want to kiss you."

  The panic must've given him pause.

  "I won't. I won't do anything you don't want ever again."

  Did he really understand me? Did he recognize the truth, the rare glimpse my decimated barrier against the world provided? Dad was right. He's always been right. Hard liquor is for hard women. He didn't mean it would make a woman hard. He meant that in order to survive the lowered inhibitions, one had to be cold and hard in the first place.

  That should've been me. Isn't it? Aren't I simply a no-hearted vacuum where compassion should reside? That's how I did such terrible things, like abandoning my father, taking his means of defense and pretending he's dead. It's how I didn't flinch after what happened to Rick.

  But here was Johnny – looking into me, like he understood everything without a single confession. He didn't hate me for being who I really am. Precious man, my heart kept whispering.

  My fingers sifted through his hair. I felt the sudden intake of breath, the expansion of his chest that pushed me a little deeper into the back of the sofa while at the same time, drawing me in deeper. It was as if our bodies were magnetically merging into one. Tension built in him. I could feel the restraint he exercised while my fingers continued to explore.

  A little arch, and I'd be close enough. Should I do it? Would it be tempting fate, unleashing a barely contained beast in the man holding me? I took a rare gamble, leaned in a bit more, tilted up and nibbled at his lips.

  He let out a shuddering sigh that rippled straight through me.

  I did it again. Nibble, separate, shivery sigh.

  "Helen…"

  "It tickles," I said. Had I noticed the other night when he kissed me? "The goatee."

  "I'll shave it."

  "I like it," I whispered. Right then, I couldn't tell where his trembling stopped and mine began. "Kiss me, Johnny."

  He pressed his lips to my forehead. Not exactly what I had in mind.

  "I'm gonna hate myself for this, I'm sure," he murmured. "Ask me again when you're sober."

  "Bring on the coffee."

  "You know that won't make you sober."

  My lips attached to his neck and drew a deep rumble that vibrated against my tongue.

  "Baby…Jesus. Don't do this right now. Please."

  "You don't want me anymore?"

  His arms tightened, almost squeezing the breath out of my lungs. "I want you so much it scares me. But not like this. Not when you're drunk and I don't know if this is what you want or the booze talking. Believe me, it isn't easy to tell you no."

  "I only asked for a kiss."

  "Would it stop there? I don't think it would. I don't think I'd want it to stop there, and I already know that I'm hanging on by a thread as it is."

  The fingers that sifted through his hair dropped to Johnny's shoulder, crept over it and stroked down his spine. "I've been a fool."

  His breathing grew more ragged.
"No you haven't."

  "Sure I have. You told me you aren't the playboy people say you are."

  "I'm no angel either."

  "Really? How many women have you loved and left?"

  "None."

  "Fucked and left then," I whispered with a quick nibble to his chin.

  "Dammit, Doc. I'm not having this conversation with you."

  "Why not?"

  "How would you feel if I asked you how many men you've slept with?"

  "It's a very short list," I said solemnly. "Only one. My husband." I paused, couldn't stop the loneliness of my marriage from seeping into my eyes. "I have to admit it wasn't particularly…fulfilling."

  His eyes fluttered shut. "You're not making this easier, Helen."

  "Why? Is it less appealing to go where only one man has gone before?" The slow caress down his back halted, settled over the thick muscle of his ass for a gentle squeeze.

  Never in the history of mankind could someone have extricated himself from an embrace as quickly as Johnny did. He jumped off the sofa so fast that the room started spinning again. Either that or his pace was akin to the fifty-yard dash by the roadrunner with the coyote in hot pursuit.

  My arm flopped over my eyes. "Well, I guess that answered my question. Note to self: never admit a paltry sexual history to a prospective lover."

  Johnny hovered over me, manacled my wrists and lifted me close. "There is only one prospective lover in your future. Me. Got it?"

  I groaned. "I really hate it when you go all alpha male on me."

  "And I really hate it when you flaunt the fact that other men want you in my face."

  "When have I ever?" I struggled to free my wrists from his firm grasp. Johnny let go abruptly and let me fall back into the cushions. His body followed, crushed me deeper into the sofa. One thigh nudged my knees apart as he settled against me.

  "David Levine. Jerry Lowe."

  "Lowe?" A wave of nausea accompanied my startled reply.

  "And don't think I didn't notice the way you were paying such close attention to everything Zack Carpenter said Saturday night, or your little crush on Crevan."

  "That's the most absurd thing I've ever heard." I barely remembered saying two words to Zack Carpenter at dinner. As for Crevan, well, he was attractive, but at the same time, not. It made no sense in my jumbled thoughts.

  "Is it?" His eyes blazed possessive irrationality.

  "Yes."

  "Tell me I'm wrong."

  "Johnny, I called you."

  His mouth slanted over mine, hard and selfish until it sunk in that I wasn't exactly resisting the kiss. Johnny groaned. His thumb and forefinger anchored my jaw while he fed slowly. It stole my breath, numbed the world away until I felt like the whole of existence had been swallowed into nothingness.

  Johnny braced himself precariously on one arm so not to completely crush me. The light contact was nice, but I craved the feel of all of him against me. My arms wrapped around him and pulled him off balance. Full body contact. Mmm…so much better.

  "Helen," he mumbled into my mouth. "We shouldn't."

  "Why not? You already said it. Only one man in my future."

  "You drank. A lot. I don't know how you're still conscious." The distance between us grew enough for Johnny to peer intently at me. "What if you sober up and hate me for taking advantage of you?"

  "What if I'm so frustrated that I call Zack next time, or Crevan…or David?"

  "I'm not leaving until you're sober, and believe me, this conversation isn't anywhere near finished. The sooner you sleep it off, the sooner we'll know if this is really you talking or Johnnie Walker."

  "Promise you won't leave me."

  "Jesus," he muttered. "I wish I was recording this conversation."

  "Why?"

  "Because I have a sinking feeling that you won't remember a damn bit of it when you sober up."

  Chapter 12

  I woke pillowed in a downy cloud of plush bedding. Something had awakened me, and it wasn't creature comforts.

  Nope, definitely not anything pleasant. The shrill bell on the phone beside my bed shot a streak of white-hot pain through both eyeballs. I fumbled for the receiver, held it to my ear and rasped, "Yeah."

  "Helen?"

  I hacked the gravel wad out of my throat. "Uh-huh."

  "Did I wake you?"

  I squinted at the alarm clock. One forty-seven. "Maya?" I rubbed the grit out of the corner of one eye and rolled up to one elbow. "What's wrong? Did something happen after I left the hospital?"

  "No," she said softly. "Ken's still here. He finally fell asleep, and I wanted to make sure you were all right."

  Unbelievable. She was worried about me. Judging from the hot pokers stabbing through my eyeballs, she probably had a good reason for the concern. "I'm fine. Although I should be asking you how you are. And apologizing for running out on you like I did."

  "Doc?"

  I jumped so quickly that I almost dropped the phone. Orion was lying on the opposite side of the bed, fully clothed but only half awake.

  "Was that…oh my God. You're with Orion?" Maya whispered into my ear. "Good for you, girlfriend."

  I stood with my back to the bed and whispered my reply, "It's not what you think. I promise, this is not how it sounds."

  "Come back to bed, Helen."

  Her grin was audible. "I think it's exactly how it sounds. I'm glad you're all right. I might send an SOS if Ken doesn't go back to work in the next day or two."

  "You don't mean that."

  "Believe me, I do. If I hear one more tutorial on latent fingerprints or how to properly prepare the plaster stuff to make molds of footprints at crime scenes, I may lose my mind to the same waste bin my boob was relegated to."

  I barked out a laugh. "Nice to see your sense of humor is back – and just as twisted as ever."

  "Well, you know me. Chuckles the medical examiner."

  I felt the awareness behind me deepen. Orion was awake. Shit. No clue how this happened. "Listen, I'll stop by later today. I've got to meet Briscoe and Conall about the dead detective from OSI. We're hammering out some details on how to proceed, but I'll make time. It might be late."

  "I'm not going anywhere for a few days. Be safe. And don't do anything with Orion that I wouldn't do."

  I replaced the receiver but made no move to return to my bed. My awareness of the situation deepened as well. Someone had stripped me down to my underclothes – unfortunately a thong and skimpy tank top. I was giving Johnny Orion an eyeful from his vantage point.

  "What are you doing in my bed?" Two choices. Sit down and wait for an answer, or make a mad grab for the bathrobe draped over the footboard. I was about to choose door number two when Orion's hand caressed my hip.

  "Waiting for you to sober up."

  "I am sober. You may leave now."

  The caress was punctuated by a soft kiss to the bare skin. "We haven't finished our conversation yet. You made me promise to stay, Doc. I'm not about to go now." His fingers dug into my hips and pulled me down onto the bed. "Should I be worried about the frequency of these blackout drunk binges?"

  "I didn't…there was no blackout."

  "So why did you make me promise to stay here?"

  "No doubt the emotional roller coaster yesterday left me feeling a little vulnerable."

  "You didn't mention that the friend with cancer was Maya," he said. "I'm sorry, Helen."

  "She doesn't want the world to know what happened just yet, so I'm sure she'd appreciate it if you didn't spread the news to everyone you know."

  "I'd never break your confidence." He propped his chin on my shoulder; lips brushed my cheek on a determined path to my ear. "What did I tell you last night?" he whispered.

  "I…" couldn't remember. No doubt it had something to do with his audacious behavior and the fact that he hadn't stopped pawing me since I got off the phone.

  "What did I say? Do you remember? Are you happy you don't remember?"

  Bits and pieces of a d
isjointed puzzle rained down on my memory. Mostly it was a sensation of warmth, a comforting pressure that blanketed me and made me feel safe for the first time in years. I wished the blank slate felt like a comfort. It didn't.

  "If I admit that things are a little fuzzy, can I trust you to tell me the truth?"

  "Look at me," Johnny said. His fingers trailed lightly over my jaw, nudging me into compliance. His eyes held mine, searching for something he apparently didn't find. Still, he didn't give up easily. "God, you're beautiful."

  "That wasn't an answer to my question."

  "No, but it was the truth."

  "Johnny…"

  He sighed, swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat shoulder to shoulder with me. "You were upset about Maya, and as near as I can tell, got drunk off your ass and called me."

  "I asked you to come here?"

  "You didn't need to ask. I came over and found you approaching hypothermia in the back yard."

  "That's it?"

  "Not exactly. The rest isn't so important right now."

  "I'll decide what's important. I'd rather hear your perception of the evening so I can compare it to mine."

  His head rolled forward. "Ah hell. You won't believe me anyway. You made me promise not to leave you here alone. I agreed. You're sober. My presence here is no longer wanted."

  Johnny started to rise, but something that felt a little too much like desperation made me grasp his hand. "Did I say that?"

  "Yeah, you did. Two minutes ago."

  "I was disoriented."

  He shook off my grip and stood. "And now things are back to normal. I get it."

  The disjointed pieces gained the tiniest measure of cohesion with every step he took toward the door. I dashed across the room and blocked his path. "I kissed you," whispered, "and you wouldn't let it go any further because I was drunk. I told you I wouldn't change my mind when I was sober. You said you wouldn't leave until…"

  My hands crept up the front of his shirt.

  "Then you do remember."

  "Did you mean what you said?"

  "About falling in love with you?"

  I nodded.