Heal Me

by Grady, D. R.

  Owen couldn’t bear the thought of no Jenna in his life. But he hated to leave work when he could abet justice. When he could apprehend a criminal and make the streets just a little safer.

  Scooting back his chair, which creaked the entire way, he stood abruptly.

  “I need to go home,” he said and left them all staring at him, openmouthed. That he had managed to cause that phenomenon in McCully should have been a shining moment, but his head pounded too much for him to care.

  He wanted to find a dark, cool place and he needed Jenna. Maybe he better get some sleep before he called her. The drive to his apartment was an agony because of the sun blasting through the windows. He stumbled to the blessed shade and coolness of his apartment and out of his clothes. A shower might help and then some sleep. As he toweled off and contemplated his bed he realized he hadn’t spent much time here, probably because he almost couldn’t stand the thought of sleep without Jenna beside him.

  Running a hand over his face, he opened the medicine cabinet. Three aspirin later, he fell onto his bed. Sleep didn’t take long, and he rolled onto his side, his arms reaching out for a woman who wasn’t there.

  When he did finally awaken, he thought of Jenna immediately. Rolling over in bed, he groped on the nightstand until he located his phone. Punching the number for her speed dial code, he waited for her to pick up, tapping his fingers. It was a McCully characteristic, not an Owen O’Maley characteristic.

  “Hello?” the voice that answered was Jenna’s, yet it didn’t sound like her.

  “Jenna, it’s me,” he said and his voice sounded scratchy.

  “Hi,” she said and he heard a catch in her voice.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know. You tell me,” she said quietly.

  Frowning, he didn’t understand. “Could you explain that comment?”

  “You told me you wanted me in your life forever, but I haven’t seen you in days. We can’t even schedule a meal together. I’ve set into place the means of freeing up my calendar so we can be together, even just to eat. But I’m not seeing the same effort on your part.”

  He remained silent for a few paces, his brain working to put together what she said. The headache he’d gone to sleep with was miraculously gone. So, working out what she said shouldn’t take long, even though he still wasn’t quite down on womanspeak.

  “McCully and some of the married detectives today have commented about that. It’s hard to know where to draw the line,” he admitted.

  “What I see is that your work, even in our dating stage, is more important than I am. And you know, Owen, I can’t live that way. I need to see you every day. I need to hold you, even for only a few moments. I need to be able to kiss you. Maybe you should think about what you need from me, and then determine what you need to do in order to achieve that. Decide whether it’s worth the sacrifice.” Her voice trailed off and he heard the sob in her voice. Something stabbed him in the vicinity of his heart.

  She had been attacked and administered a drug scientists still didn’t understand, and what had he done? Immersed himself in his work and left her to her own devices. He hadn’t even made the time to see her since the attack. And he didn’t know why. Was he scared? Or too busy? Or something he hadn’t taken the time to think through?

  “Maybe I need some time to think about this,” he said quietly. He ran a hand through his hair and wondered what he should do. Her only response was a muffled sob and sniff, as though she tried to remain dignified, but couldn’t quite keep things together.

  Owen felt a little overwhelmed. Detectives weren’t supposed to get overwhelmed, but from having only Fred and his mom to now having not only a mother of his own, but an entire family, and now Jenna, he wondered if he hadn’t gone into relationship immersion of some sort with no idea of where to locate the top for air.

  He wanted them all with no idea of how to keep them all. “You know, Jenna, I have a family I didn’t have three weeks ago. I have a woman I love who I didn’t have three weeks ago. I have a job I still love, but that takes up a lot of my time, it always has, and I don’t know how to lessen the time I spend at work. I’ve never had to give much of myself to anyone or anything else. Can’t you try to understand that?” The edge of panic loomed right behind him.

  “I don’t know,” she whispered, and he heard the despair in her voice.

  A page came over the intercom on her end and he caught enough of it to know she was the one being paged.

  “I have to go,” she said brusquely and he heard the control she exerted over herself.

  “Where does this leave us?”

  “I don’t know,” she answered and then cut the connection.

  Chapter 22

  Jenna thrust her phone back into her pocket before scrubbing the tears off her face. She knew what the end of a relationship looked like, and this one carried all the hallmarks. She stared at herself in the mirror, at her pink nose and eyes, and the paleness of her skin.

  She didn’t like what she saw. Was she staring at a relationship wimp? Someone who wasn’t willing to ride out the bad while enjoying the good?

  Not able to answer that question, she turned away from her image and left the room. She couldn’t handle the thought of Owen O’Maley not being a part of her life. But she also couldn’t handle him being only a part-time partner, either.

  Owen laid the phone back on the nightstand and stared at the ceiling. He had no idea what to do. His stomach growled, but he felt no desire to eat. Instead, he rolled out of bed and located clothing and his shoes. He picked up his briefcase and left the quiet apartment. At least at work, he knew what to do. Even though he didn’t always have answers, he certainly had more there than his personal life currently provided.

  When she entered her home that night, her answering machine blinked. Jenna wearily trailed across the empty room and hit the button. She tried to ease the ache in her neck and shoulders, but her efforts proved futile.

  When Owen’s voice filled the room, she didn’t even try to stop the tears that flowed far too easily these days. She wanted this man, and she had him for a short time, but she didn’t know how to keep him long term.

  “Jenna,” he said, and she heard his voice crack, “I just got a letter from a Colonel Malone who served with my dad. The colonel told me all about my father, what he was like, some of the things he said about me. What his dreams had been. Not only did he send me a letter, but he must have contacted some other men who served with my dad, too. I’ve got eight letters here, and this colonel hinted there could be more.” His voice broke off and Jenna heard him take a breath.

  “I know you’re responsible for this. Thank you.” He made a noise as though he wanted to say something else, but he hung up instead.

  Jenna stared at the machine a long time, clueless as to what to do.

  He stared at the phone, wondering if he picked it up, whether it would electrocute him. He didn’t trust the device anymore, after a life-long affair of despising the instruments anyway.

  The worst she can say is no. And while that was true, saying no was the very worst possible case scenario and one Owen doubted he could handle at the moment.

  He forced himself to pick up the device and punched in her speed dial number before he hit the talk button. Each ring nearly sent his heart through his ribs, but he concentrated on breathing. Breathing would keep him sane. He hoped.

  “Hello?” Jenna’s voice, her wonderful, beautiful voice filtered through his phone into his ear.

  “Jenna, this is Owen. Would you like to have supper with me tonight?” He knew he spoke faster than necessary but he needed her to say yes.

  A long silence predominated and he gritted his teeth. He wasn’t going to beg. He hoped.

  “Yes, I’d like that. Where?”

  He rattled off the name of a restaurant between them and she agreed to meet him there.

  Praying he wasn’t screwing up their lives, he thanked her and they rang off. Her voice had be
trayed nothing, but he needed to see her. He needed to touch her. He wanted to smell her familiar scent and feel her against him.

  He had wanted her too long to screw this up now.

  Jenna waited for him in the lobby of the restaurant he chose. He pulled into a spot near her car and crawled out of the vehicle. She nearly melted as he walked toward her. His eyes found and caught hers, and she realized maybe she would have to just deal with having him only part-time. This man had come to mean too much to her to give up on what they shared.

  He burst through the door and without asking, swept her into his arms. His heart beat the same staccato as hers and she heard him sniff her hair. He held onto her like he couldn’t let go, a sentiment she understood. They parted finally when the hostess cleared her throat.

  The only thing Jenna remembered from that evening was the pale green of Owen’s eyes, his amazement at her finding someone who had served with his father, and the warmth that spread through her every time her eyes locked with his. She also left understanding that he didn’t want to give up on their relationship. What she couldn’t figure out was what he did want.

  Owen thrust his hand through his hair and stared at the computer. For once, his brain wasn’t busy twisting and turning the data. His mind was on Jenna, instead. He currently attempted, but also successfully failed to make sense of their relationship. Or rather, how to make it work. He wanted her, but he also wanted his job.

  And he couldn’t seem to convince the two to gel for him. He felt as though he gazed into a snow globe where the flakes never settled but where chaos reigned.

  “Would you stop the confounded sighing? Some of us are trying to work, here,” McCully said tartly from across their desks. Unfortunately, she seemed to be the only one of them actually engaged in work. They were trying to close in on the top guy at the Organization, but so far, he remained elusive. McCully, to give her credit, seemed very eager and determined to locate the big man.

  Owen, however, was proving useless to all their efforts.

  Brandan had blubbered how he’d failed the big man, and now he would consequently pay. That was all they could glean from the man. Now, after a series of psychological evaluations, it seemed he very likely would not stand trial. The man had lost himself somewhere in the haze of the drugs he created and eventually tested on himself. Some of the doctors believed he might be fine once the drugs ran their course, but others believed the damage to be permanent.

  Owen’s chair squeaked as he leaned back and stared at the data again. He couldn’t make sense of it. Unfortunately, he doubted he could make sense of a phone bill. Resisting the urge to sigh again, he scooted his chair back. It squeaked.

  When he leaped to his feet, McCully’s eyebrow soared and her eyes widened. “What is up with you?” she demanded, her hands poised over her keyboard.

  “I’m going for a snack.”

  Her eyes turned lecherous. “Get me a chocolate bar,” she directed and he actually felt better, since their relationship was still perfectly normal.

  “Right,” he agreed absently and strode down the hall. He hoped she remained at her desk, because he had a very important phone call to make.

  “Hello?” Jenna answered her phone absently. Trying to make sense of the patient chart in front of her proved nearly impossible. And the problem had nothing to do with the information it contained. Instead, she feared, the problem stemmed from the fact that she thought of little else but Owen O’Maley these days.

  “It’s me,” the object of her thoughts said brusquely.

  “Hi.” Her response was squeezed through a tight throat.

  “I’m wondering...”

  “Yes?” She determinedly tamped down the rising hope.

  “Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?”

  Jenna glanced at the clock on her desk. “It’s already six o’clock.”

  “Yes, I know. Nothing fancy, just something I can throw together at my place. Is that okay?”

  The hope tamping dissolved and she smiled. No, she grinned. “Yes,” she said in a husky voice. She cleared her throat. “Yes, I’d love to have supper with you.”

  “Excellent. How soon can you make it?”

  “Can you give me thirty minutes?”

  “That works,” he replied and sounded relieved.

  “Okay. How do I find your apartment?”

  Maybe she was making far too much of this. He might just want company while he ate dinner.

  She had more than a few misgivings when she pulled into the parking lot of Owen’s apartment complex. Jenna had a few misgivings when she located the neighborhood, but those increased as she parked. Not that it was bad, just different than her own. Her neighborhood had plenty of SUVs, but those in her part tended to be new models, with no visible rust. Her street had very few pickup trucks, but plenty of sedans. She couldn’t recall any that displayed bumper stickers like the ones these vehicles sported. One read, Fight crime, shoot back. Another read Buy a gun, support the constitution. And still another, Keep honking, I’m reloading. And finally, Driver carries less than $20 in ammunition...

  Swallowing, she sincerely hoped this complex housed lots of cops. She refused to think of the alternative. Glancing hesitantly around, she turned off her own small SUV and slid out, glancing warily around her. Jenna pressed the door lock button and waited until it beeped before she set off across the lot.

  Finding his apartment proved fairly easy, thanks to the many pierced, heavily tattooed, leathered – complete with spiked dog collar, individual who pointed Owen’s door out to her. “Thank you,” Jenna said, with what she hoped was aplomb and headed in that direction. TJ would think nothing of this situation; Colleen would probably feel right at home. Even Emmy wouldn’t blink, but Jenna was feeling some definite qualms about the area. Was she a snob?

  She searched for a doorbell, but after not locating one, tentatively knocked on the door. The scarred, flimsy beige barrier whisked open and Owen’s pale eyes settled on her. She caught a glimpse of relief and satisfaction before he swept her into his arms. Her feet promptly left the floor. Jenna wrapped her arms around him and hung on. Her bag banged against them, and right now she couldn’t care less if she was a snob. She had Owen O’Maley in her arms. Who cared?

  He eventually set her on her feet again and invited her to sit down at the table.

  “I’ve been thinking,” Owen said a short while later, spinning pasta around his fork.

  Jenna looked up from her own endeavors of twirling spaghetti into an eatable form. He sounded serious.

  “Our relationship was a lot easier when we lived together, wasn’t it?”

  “Of course,” she replied, frowning. “At least we got to see each other every night.” She hoped she didn’t sound bitter. Because she didn’t actually feel bitter, just disappointed.

  “Yes, I know. There’s no denying we’ve both got demanding jobs, and we both like our jobs.”

  “True.” She stopped to think of her next response, but he continued before she could speak.

  “You’ve already begun to lessen your hours and your work load.” She nodded. “And I’ve talked to some of the guys at work who are married. Nearly all of them are. And they’ve proven it’s possible to be a detective but still have a relationship. And kids, even.”

  Jenna swallowed down the lump in her throat and sniffed to stop the tears that itched at her eyes. He had talked to his co-workers. That must mean he wanted to keep their relationship.

  She managed to nod again.

  “My chief told me on the way out today that most of the older guys can afford to cut back on their hours because they’re not busy learning the ropes. They know what they’re doing and get it done efficiently, because they’ve got a life at home.” His lips parted in a chagrined grin and her heart flipped.

  “So, it’s possible for you to still be a good detective, and work less hours?” she asked tentatively.

  “That’s what he told me. He said I’ve got the experienc
e. And it’s not necessary for me to have my nose in every case. Since we’re small, we all work together, but usually someone ends up with the case specifically. He said I shouldn’t be involved with all of them.”

  “So, basically, you’re going to be able to cut down on your workload,” she summarized.

  “Yeah.”

  “But?” she asked, sensing a but in there.

  “But, I’m not going to be able to do all this overnight. It could take months,” he said, and he stared at her intently.

  Her joy severed near the top and rained on her parade. “Oh.”

  “Yeah, oh,” he repeated. “There’s another but, though.”

  “Another one?” She blinked and then swallowed. Her fork clattered against her plate.

  “Yeah. You know how the simplest answer is the hardest to get to?”

  Where on earth was he going with this? “Yes.”

  “Well, it occurred to me, when I can’t think straight, can’t work, because I keep thinking about you, that I need to do something about this. I figured it out on my way home.”

  “Figured what out?” Jenna asked.

  “What if we....” he started and then stopped and fixed her with a very concentrated look.

  “What I’m going to propose is assuming you really are prepared to spend the rest of your life with me? That you don’t want anyone else?”

  Jenna’s joy erupted again, this time in an explosion of fireworks. And he hadn’t even asked her yet. “Yes, you’re the man I want. The only one I want,” she said firmly, as that conviction pulsed through her.

  He shoved away from the table, wiped his mouth and loped to her. He settled on one knee and took her hand. Bravely, and she expected that of a cop, he stared into her eyes.