by Anthology
Seven was Letha’s number too. I was certain of it.
Letha
One hour left until our shift ended. Three thousand six hundred seconds of scrutiny and awkward glances from my coworkers. Apart from Liam Snow, everyone else on the force thought I was a bitch, including my temp partner, Xavier. In reality, I was more of a loner than a bitch, but I didn’t correct them. I didn’t see the point to do so. At work, I found myself in silence more than I spoke. Unless it was a necessity, I didn’t speak about anything other than work. It wasn’t that I didn’t like anyone, I just had more to think about than most.
I wasn’t always so withdrawn from people. I used to be amongst the crowds and attend overpopulated events. “The more people the better.” I really used to believe that was true. Come to find out, I actually didn’t care to be in large crowds, and only attended overpopulated events while in uniform for work. It was Marcus, my late husband, who enjoyed those things. He was a real socialite. Although, when I was by his side, everything seemed magical. His love was intoxicating and I often found myself drunk on him.
It wasn’t clear to me when you stop referring to your dead spouse as late, but for me the timeframe frequently changed. Somedays, he was all I thought of. He danced with every passing notion of my mind and left drops of sorrow in his place. As if he had just stepped out for coffee and it had taken longer than expected. Perhaps he had gotten lost along the trip, taken a right when a left was unquestionably the path he should have chosen. At times, I lied to myself and pretended this was true. It was easier to let lies numb the pain than it was to accept the truth and bleed. Other times, Marcus’ handsome face only graced other people’s a few times. I seemed to be turning and facing complete strangers a bit less lately, since meeting Liam, but once I remembered, those days were the days of guilt. I’d felt happiness and drifted outward from the atmosphere of loneliness, only to be infused with remorse and plummet downward into a sea of regret.
Lucky walked by my desk and smirked, which brought my attention to the here and now.
“Have a good weekend, Lethal,” he said as he wiggled his eyebrows and glanced at Liam.
“You too.” Floated out between the thick suspicions I denied to voice, even though they were the only thoughts that held much weight.
Underneath all of the smartass comments that he spouted on a regular basis, he really was quite a good person. I knew from the stories Liam had shared with me. Also, on rare occasions, like right now, his kinder side shined through all of the sarcasm.
Lucky plucked his keys from his pocket and checked his wristwatch.
“Five minutes till I’m calling it a day,” he said, powering down his computer as he passed his desk.
I had daydreamed for almost an hour, which shouldn’t ever shock me, but it always did. I misplaced time frequently to yesterday’s memories of lost love. When the present only gave isolation and the past whispered alluring promises of happiness, it was difficult not to live in the past and simply breathe in the present.
“See you at home…I mean, catch you later, Letha,” Liam said and rubbed the back of his neck, letting his hand trace his short-boxed beard afterward. This was something he did when he was nervous. We were neighbors and coworkers in the beginning, and then somehow we wound up in each other’s beds. Until this moment, I hadn’t accepted that we were much more than neighbors with benefits and coworkers, but it was undeniable how I felt right now.
I’d never been the type of woman to set out to find love or to really need someone. Yet, I needed Liam. Even if it hurt to admit it, I did.
He smiled. I smiled in return and wanted to say something monumental to seal the moment eternally, but the pleasure I felt awoke the guilt. It yawned and stretched, taking all of the words in my head captive. My heart begged my entire body to show him I cared, but fear overpowered any emotion that swirled in my head. No matter how strong those feelings were, I fell prisoner to anxiety. Although I was screaming on the inside, silence, once again, was the only thing to pass my lips.
To most, what he said would’ve been taken as a simple statement, a slip of the tongue. Yet to someone who had been searching for home for far too long, he spoke volumes. My body absorbed his words like warm water during a cold morning’s frost. They thawed my heart and uncovered my soul. As if I had been frost bitten and his words were the only warmth the world had to cure my condition.
I shook my head, as if trying to loosen the thoughts and allow them to evaporate into the air. I cradled my head in my hands, breathing outward, tired of being overwhelmed, and made a decision. This wasn’t much of a life I was living. Marcus was the one who was gone. Not me. I had only wandered through life without him. I was dragged to the bottom of the ocean and had lain dormant and untouched for years. I was tired of the ocean floor and wanted to remember what it was like to smile without sadness lingering in my heart.
With Christmas quickly approaching, I made a promise. I would allow myself one gift this year. Happiness.
At least I would try.
Liam
Such. A. Fucking. Idiot! I can’t believe I actually told her I’d see her at home. We’d made it abundantly clear what our relationship was. Strictly sex. No sentiment. No pet names. Hell, at one point, I even made sure I didn’t leave anything as small as a sock over at her place, because I didn’t want to give the wrong impression. In the beginning, I didn’t have a problem with the arrangement at all, seeing as I didn’t want a girlfriend, especially one I worked with. That never ends well. I was rethinking and questioning every aspect of it now.
The saying, “Don’t shit where you eat,” echoed in my head. Without question, I took a shit right in the middle of my favorite restaurant, Roselli’s, in this instance. I tried to deny the feelings I had for her, to admit them meant I was a hypocrite. We both agreed to use each other’s body as an escape, never to let it go beyond screwing, but I was the one who enforced it. There were rare occasions, late at night or early morning, one could say, when she’d invited me to stay, and I refused. Staying would have made us more than what we were, which was something I wasn’t willing to risk for a long while. I was stupid. I’ll admit it. Looking back, I was lucky she’d even considered to share any small portion of herself with me.
I guess, in a way, I never felt Letha was available. It’s hard to love someone else when a ghost still fills your heart, which I was certain was the case with Letha. I’d claimed every inch of her body, but to form any type of relationship other than physical seemed impossible. Not that I even wanted more, until recently. At least I believed that to be true as it was happening, but now I knew she had me long before I was aware. It was funny. I had an excellent memory, but when it came to Letha, I didn’t know when my feelings had changed. Although I can’t place the reason, I always felt connected with her. I didn’t know if it was because of the job we shared or the fact that we lived in the same building that drew me to her, or if it was something far deeper. Whatever the cause, the pull toward her was undeniable, and now, with each day the need I felt to be with her grew.
I stopped at the gym to work off some of the frustration I had with myself and then headed to my apartment with my eyes tucked under my baseball cap. Normally, I would have gone straight home from work, and Letha and I would have worked our daily stress out with one another. We would have fucked them out, actually, but I just couldn’t today. Not my ideal Friday evening, but I was avoiding her. I wasn’t proud to admit I was a twenty-nine-year-old, grown ass man, hiding in my apartment from a woman.
I ran my fingers over my short beard and then exhaled the tension brewing within me. I could face disfigured bodies, but I couldn’t look the woman I liked in the eyes because I embarrassed myself. Ridiculous. Frustrated with myself for being a pussy, I turned the TV off. Nothing held my attention right now. Thoughts of Letha kept taking place of anything else.
This whole attitude wasn’t how I normally was. Usually I faced my problems head-on, which was exactly what I was going
to do with Letha.
I grabbed two beers from the fridge, fully intending to use them as a peace offering with her, but then stepped into something wet with my left foot.
“Dammit, Wesley!” I slid my sock off and cussed my cat, who conveniently was nowhere in sight. His bowls were scooted across the kitchen floor, leaving behind a trail of water and soggy cat food. Lucky and I decided he was pissed off at the world because his tail was shorter than average. That was cause enough to piss off any man.
One lone scream traveled from Letha’s apartment, which was quickly followed by, “You scared the shit out of me! What are you doing?” Letha’s velvety tone peaked with surprise and alarm crept across my skin.
My grip tightened around the bottles as I waited for someone to answer her.
Silence echoed in my ears and pierced my heart. No one replied. Letha didn’t say another word and panic strangled the air from my lungs.
Fear shadowed all of my instincts. Although I knew Letha could take care of herself, our neighborhood wasn’t known for its safety. I set the beers on the counter and snatched my 9mm from the holster. I hadn’t broken the leather for a few weeks and never wanted this to be the reason to do so.
Terror shook through my fingertips while I loaded the chamber and scanned the hallway through the peephole for signs of forced entry. Her door was slightly cracked open, but it appeared undamaged. I didn’t see obvious signs of a perp’s presence.
As soon as my door was open, I scanned the hallway for the bastard, whom I was certain I would kill. Regret circled my thoughts as they pooled into the worst scenario possible. Losing Letha. Sweat trailed my temples and I blew the doubt from my lungs. I. Would. Save. Her.
“Get out of there!” she said in a panic-stricken voice.
With two long strides, I was at her door and kicked it open with my bare foot.
“Police,” growled from my throat and I let my 9mm lead my way into her apartment.
Shock and confusion flashed from her widened topaz eyes as they darted from me to her Christmas tree.
“Shit.” Her full lips hissed, so quietly it was almost inaudible.
A black blur leaped from the depths of the faux pine needles. The tree fell to the floor with a loud rattle as Wesley whizzed past me and out the door. Glass ornaments clashed and shattered against the hardwood, and the multicolored lights reflected off their surfaces. Strands of silver and red tinsel landed in Letha’s long dark curls and she wrapped her arm around her stomach in laughter.
For the second time within an hour, “Dammit, Wesley,” left my mouth and then I lowered my gun as I breathed a sigh of relief. She was okay.
“You.” She barely said in between giggles and bent over, holding her stomach. “Your cat burglar is getting away.” She wailed with laughter, and I did the only thing I could in response. I shook my head as a small laugh escaped my lips.
Most can’t pinpoint the exact moment someone claims their heart, but I knew this was mine. While surrounded by disaster, she found happiness. Some people were born to live behind a white fence of lies. Not Letha. She’d demolished the slats and chased the storm she called life.
Letha
Liam’s shaggy, light brown hair pointed in every direction, except down. His piercing blue eyes glistened as they followed my own, taking in his ensemble. He wore a pair of blue boxer briefs and a lonely black sock on his right foot. Without an explanation given for his missing sock, he rolled the remaining one off with the toes of his opposing foot and smiled.
“Care if I leave it here?” he said, running his fingers over his chin.
I shook my head, partially in response, but also because I didn’t understand why he was asking to leave a sock in my apartment. Nor did I understand why leaving a sock would cause him to be anxious.
His smile broadened as he kicked it beneath my couch and he cut across the living room to me. Anticipation showered over my skin when he took my hands in his, placing them behind my back and pinning my body with his own. His thumbs whispered faint promises of hope into my heart as they danced along my palms, leaving desire in their wake.
My eager mouth met his and his lips absorbed the guilt that begged to spill out of my conscious. He drew in an unsteady breath against my mouth and stole my uncertainties. He breathed reassurance into my body as his kisses became more desperate and primal.
Mrs. Donaldson cleared her throat as she passed, reminding us that we hadn’t yet closed the door.
He smiled and bit his lip, turning to close and lock the door, letting life catch up to us. He picked up the tree, and I swept up the broken pieces of ornaments, dumping them into the trash. As each second passed, he was unknowingly locking my heart with his.
Just as we finished cleaning the mess Wesley made, the wind howled and knocked the power out. Neither of us seemed to mind. The moonlight gave the perfect amount of light for us to find one another. I pattered the tips of my fingers along his rigid abs and then up to his strong shoulders, where I let them rest. He ran his nose down my neck and placed a light kiss on my collarbone. Heated need for him grew within me as his growing excitement pressed against my core. He rested his forehead to mine, and we stood as one, savoring each other. When his chest rose, mine fell. While my world quit spinning, his began to orbit. He had been what I’d been searching for, yet I didn’t know I was on a journey.
In this instance, he was both my weakness and strength. The realization that Liam was home to me pounded in my chest and that very knowledge terrified me.
He led us to my bedroom, much like he had many times before, but this time was very different. In the darkness, we let our bodies utter words our voices weren’t yet strong enough to find. He loved me quietly and for once, I welcomed the sound of silence.
Liam’s desperate, lingering kisses whispered, “I need you,” while his steady hands assured he’d never let go of me. I greedily pulled him closer and tried my best to prove he was everything to me. My home. The night allowed us to make unspoken promises and murmur hushed secrets to one another. I’d never been so happy to be in the dark. As long as this continued, I may never wish to have power again.
Liam
As daylight broke, I watched her caramel skin rise and fall, thankful neither of us had to work today. Lucky’s band, Lucky Plus One, had a gig tonight at Cask and Barrel, where I intended to invite Letha to watch. I wanted the world to see her as I did. Beautiful. Outside and in.
Snow flurries soared from the sky and every few flakes, one splattered onto the windowpane. I loved living in New York City in the winter. It was beautiful and fun as hell to whip a cruiser through when a few inches lay on the streets. Lucky loved to criticize my driving when the roads were covered, but it only made me slide more.
“Liam…were you watching me sleep?” she asked in a low voice, through a smile, and hid her face beneath her arms.
“I was,” I simply answered, without qualms. We’d spent far too long denying what our hearts felt, and after last night, I didn’t intend to ever be setback to denial again.
Her high cheekbones flushed and she peeked at me from underneath her arms. “You’re—”
“Falling for you,” I blurted out, interrupting her, shocking both of us. I didn’t tell her I was far beyond that point. We both knew it, but I didn’t want to say it out loud. Not yet. Her eyes softened as she rolled to her side to face me and propped her chin on her hand.
“I was going to say—well. It doesn’t matter.” She shyly grinned and stretched. “Coffee?” she asked and attempted to tame her curls with her hand.
“Absolutely.” I growled and straddled her, trailing my nose up her neck to her ear. Messing with her ears made her squirm and I knew this, so I intentionally blew a slight breeze on her lobe before I took it into my mouth and released it with a pop. She wriggled beneath me, and I knew if I didn’t get out of bed, we would be here all day, which I didn’t mind, but I was the type of person who needed coffee to be pleasant.
I took in a harsh
breath through my teeth and climbed over her, wondering if I would kick myself later for choosing caffeine over sex. Of course I would. I was already regretting it, but she had already sat up beside me in the bed and opened the case of me having blue balls.
She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and took off walking in the direction of her kitchen. Sounds of cabinet doors being opened and closed were followed with the glorious smell of coffee.
I was a stereotype. I was a cop who couldn’t function without coffee and also happened to enjoy donuts. Hell, I loved food. I thankfully had a high metabolism and worked out often. Otherwise, all of the donuts and pies I ate would be obvious. Lucky reminded me of this every chance he had. He was a dick, but then again, I was too most of the time. We worked as partners and best friends for the simple fact we both lacked filters, him more so than me. With the exceptions of Letha and Lucky, most thought I came on too strong and regularly overstepped people’s boundaries. It wasn’t intentional, but it was who I was.
Letha humming an unfamiliar tune floated through her apartment and encircled my heart with reality. Everything about her was beautiful. Her voice. Her body. Her mind. Her scarred past. I was certain of one thing; all of her was my future.
Letha
Right after the strike of midnight, it was officially Christmas Eve. A time I used to dread because I was alone. That was until Liam. It had been weeks since Wesley flew out of my tree and brought Liam and me together. I usually hated cats, but I owed my happiness to Wesley. I don’t know if he hadn’t snuck into my apartment that Liam and I would be where we are now.
We disclosed our relationship to Captain Miranda, which went over a little better than I thought it would. At first, I didn’t enjoy Liam and I were on different squads, but I’m beginning to really like the new squad. Especially our blood spatter specialist, Denise Wilkins. Her spunky replies and general bubbliness was a bit out of character, but pleasant in our line of work. It wasn’t every day you came across someone singing Katy Perry as they entered a crime scene. She was as twisted as I was and it was nice.
