by Jae
"Okay. How can I help?"
Dawn shrugged. "I thought about buying a gun."
"A gun..." Aiden rubbed her neck.
"Not a good idea?" Dawn watched Aiden's reaction closely.
"No, I didn't necessarily say that. It just depends. A weapon doesn't always keep you safe. If you depend on an external object for your protection, you need to keep in mind that it could be taken away from you and used against you." Aiden studied the gentle woman next to her. "And a gun won't do you any good if you don't use it. Are you sure you could aim it at a human being and pull the trigger?" Twice, she had shot someone in the line of duty, and she knew that it came with a price.
Dawn looked down at her hands. "I always thought that I could never kill anyone, but that Saturday night... I think I could have."
Aiden was still ambivalent about the thought of Dawn owning a weapon. "What about enrolling in a self-defense course?" she suggested. "That doesn't have to mean we're completely ruling out the possibility of buying a gun."
Dawn looked doubtful. "I'm not terribly coordinated."
"Technique is only a small part of self-defense," Aiden said. She knew that self-defense classes could be an invaluable part of the healing process for a rape survivor. "You won't learn how to hit an attacker in the face after a 360-degree spin kick, but how to be aware of and react to your surroundings. We're not talking about Hollywood kung fu. We're talking about a simple, yet effective poke in the eye or a kick to the groin. They teach you the self-confidence to know you're worth defending, and they give you the means to do it."
"That sounds like a really good thing," Dawn said, the now green eyes shining with the determination to try it out. "Do you teach self-defense? You sound like you know a lot about it."
In her mind's eye, Aiden already saw herself instructing Dawn in self-defense, wrapping her arms around her and pressing her body against Dawn's from behind as she simulated an attack. "I know someone who does," she said quickly. "I'll give you his number."
"His?" Dawn repeated, looking unsure about the concept of taking classes with a male instructor.
"Who better than a man to teach you how to hurt a man?" Aiden half joked. "He's the best, and I promise you'll like him. And he works with a female partner."
Finally, Dawn nodded. "Okay, I'll try it out. Can't hurt, right?"
"Not if you follow instructions and don't try that 360-degree spin kick," Aiden joked, rising from the couch. She walked toward the door. "Thanks again for the invitation."
"No, thank you," Dawn corrected. "I know lugging furniture around is not part of a detective's job description."
Aiden didn't answer, not wanting to emphasize the fact that she had helped Dawn in anything other than a professional capacity.
"Wait a minute." Dawn disappeared in the kitchen and came back with a small plastic container, which she handed Aiden. "Here. That's some leftover coconut chicken and rice. I would have given you the recipe, but you said you don't really have the time to cook."
"Or the talent," Aiden added. She hesitantly took the plastic container, feeling like a husband who was being handed his lovingly prepared lunch at the door before being kissed good-bye. She shook her head at the thought and reached for the door handle. "Thanks. Goodnight."
* * *
Ray leaned back, put his feet up onto the corner of his desk, and took a bite of his tuna sandwich. "And then this guy looks down and says..." He paused to swallow and to keep his listeners in suspense for a moment longer.
"Uh-huh," Aiden mumbled.
Irritated, Ray gazed across the desk at his partner. She was sitting behind her own desk, shoveling food into her mouth with one hand while the other leafed through a stack of reports. This had been the third time that she had mm-hm'ed or uh-huh'ed at the wrong point of his tale about the guy two of their colleagues had arrested this morning. "Are you even listening to me?"
Aiden didn't look up from her food or her reports. "Yeah."
"Okay, so they're chasing him up the stairs, and when he has nowhere else to go, he looks down at them..."
"Mm-hm."
Ray stopped his tale and folded his arms across his chest. "You didn't hear a word I said, did you, Aiden Carlisle?"
"Sure."
"So, you did hear that I told you Okada is going to get married again?" Ray asked.
Aiden nodded, head still bent over the reports and her lunch.
"To Kade Matheson," Ray continued.
The dark head lifted. "What?"
"Ah, that finally woke you up, didn't it?" Ray threw his crumbled sandwich paper at her.
"Sorry, Ray, it's just..." Aiden gestured down at her desk.
Ray craned his neck, trying to glance into the bowl she had brought to lunch. "What's this?"
"I think I should give our friends from narcotics a call because you're practically inhaling that stuff, whatever it is," Ruben commented from his desk.
"I think our dear colleague is holding out on us, my friends," Okada threw in. "She won't even share a small sample of her lunch with us."
"It's 'serve and protect,' not 'share and protect,' guys," Aiden mumbled around a mouthful of rice and chicken.
Ruben peeked into Aiden's bowl on his way to the coffeepot. "Is that home-cooked?"
"Are you dating a chef or something like that?" Okada asked.
Every cop who had ever been invited into Aiden's home had seen the impeccably clean kitchen, and those who had been invited to stay for lunch or dinner knew the kitchen was so spotless because it didn't see much action. Therefore, Okada's suggestion that someone must have prepared the home-cooked meal for Aiden made a lot of sense to Ray. But unlike Okada, he knew that there was no chef in the picture.
Ray wasn't sure whether Ruben and Okada knew that Aiden's romantic interest wasn't confined to men. He had heard rumors that Ruben's brother was gay and that one of Okada's many ex-wives was now living with a woman, but even if that was true, he had no idea how his two colleagues felt about homosexuality.
"Aiden..." Ray directed a concerned glance at her. Aiden had only been interested in two women lately, and both were completely inappropriate partners. Having an affair with either a victim or their Deputy DA could be devastating for Aiden's career. He looked around and lowered his voice, making sure that their conversation couldn't be overheard. "Is there any chance that this lovingly prepared meal was cooked by someone you really shouldn't exchange recipes or anything else with?"
Finally, Aiden set down the empty bowl. "It's not what you think. This was just leftovers from a thank-you dinner."
"Okay." Ray had no choice but to trust his partner's word. "But if you ever want to talk about it..."
Aiden nodded and stood, grabbing a stack of files. "I'll know where to find you."
CHAPTER 11
DAWN'S INDEX finger hovered over her phone before she reluctantly pressed the button for the last digit. Holding her breath, she listened to the phone ring. Maybe I should wait until Monday. I bet she works too much as it is. She doesn't need me to interrupt her at home on the weekend.
She lifted the phone away from her ear to end the call, but before she could do it, Aiden's indistinct voice came from the receiver. The phone almost slipped from her hands before she held it to her ear again.
"Hello?" Aiden's impatient voice came again.
There was no way back now. "Hi, Detective," Dawn said. "It's Dawn Kinsley."
"Hey, Dawn. What can I do for you?" Aiden seemed surprised but still willing to help Dawn with whatever she needed.
Dawn took a deep breath. I can't do this over the phone. She shook her head at herself. This was a bad idea. "Um..."
"Dawn? Hey, everything all right?" Aiden's voice went from surprised to concerned.
"I'm fine," Dawn said quickly. "I just... There's something I need to tell you."
"Yes?"
"On Monday," Dawn added. "This is not something I want to discuss on the phone."
Aiden was silent for a moment. "Do y
ou want me to come over?" she asked.
"No, Monday is fine," Dawn said. "I don't want to interrupt your weekend."
"Dawn, you wouldn't have called if this wasn't important. You're not interrupting anything of importance. I'm just lazing around, reading a little. I can leave anytime. Or you could come to my place," Aiden offered.
Dawn only hesitated a few more seconds. If she was honest, she didn't want to wait until Monday to get this off her chest. "If you're sure."
"I am."
"Then I'll come over," Dawn decided. She didn't want to interrupt Aiden's weekend any more than necessary by having her drive halfway across the city.
"Do you still remember where I live, or do you need directions?" Aiden asked.
"I'll find it."
"Then I'll see you soon," Aiden said and ended the phone call before Dawn could change her opinion.
Half an hour later, Dawn parked her car in Aiden's neighborhood. She was searching for the right words to say to Aiden while she got out of her car and walked down the street. She quickened her stride, crossing to the other side of the street when a black-haired man came a little too close for her comfort. Since the rape, she felt as if she couldn't trust her instincts or judgment where people were concerned anymore and had to think of every stranger as a possible attacker. She could no longer allow herself the luxury of being careless.
She stopped in front of Aiden's apartment building and, after a quick glance back over her shoulder, started searching for the right buzzer. She lifted her index finger, but then hesitated one last time.
Dawn jumped when the door to the apartment building suddenly opened. An older man exited and held the door open for her. Feeling as though her decision had been made for her, Dawn ducked past the man and climbed the stairs.
After a few seconds of yet another internal debate, she finally knocked on the door.
The door swung open without delay. "Hi." Aiden smiled down at her. "Come in."
Dawn followed her into the apartment. She looked around, glad to postpone an explanation for another minute or two. The apartment was as neat as it had been the last time she had seen it. She didn't see a TV set, and there were no signs of any hobby Aiden might have. To Dawn, it was painfully obvious that this was the home of a workaholic. The only personal object was a framed photograph of Aiden with an older woman. The woman's blond hair, blue eyes, and her facial features didn't resemble Aiden much, but Dawn had a feeling that this was Aiden's mother. Aiden probably looked like her father, Dawn assumed but couldn't find a photograph of him.
Aiden threw the Afghan from the couch and gestured for Dawn to sit down. Dawn noticed that she was barefoot and held a forgotten book in her hand. She tilted Aiden's hand to read the title and then raised an eyebrow. "Not getting enough crime at work, Detective?" she tried to hide her nervousness behind a joke.
Aiden shrugged. "Well, I can't really relate to romance novels, and this one is very well written. Can I offer you a cup of tea?"
"No, thanks. I don't want to interrupt you for long," Dawn answered.
"So what is it that you didn't want to discuss on the phone?" Aiden asked, sitting down in an easy chair across from Dawn.
"I busied myself with cleaning my office while I can't see patients and... maybe I'm paranoid and just imagining things, but..." Dawn took a deep breath. "I came across a file of a patient whose story resembles mine."
"Resembles it how?" The amber eyes were now fixed on Dawn's. "I know you said that you wouldn't disclose patient confidentialities, but –"
"It's okay, Detective," Dawn said. "I've just spoken to that particular patient, and she released me from my duty to maintain confidentiality."
Aiden nodded. "Good. So, what are the parallels between her case and yours?"
Dawn hesitated.
"I know it can be hard to talk about the details of –"
"It's not that," Dawn said. What she had to tell Aiden had nothing to do with the details of her rape. She trusted Aiden, had trusted her from the very first moment and still did even when her trust in other people had been thoroughly shaken. Something about Aiden Carlisle made her feel safe. She didn't really fear Aiden's reaction; she had the feeling that Aiden would understand. But her revelation would interrupt the status quo they had, and that was one of the reasons that made her hesitate. "Detective... Aiden... perhaps I should have told you before, it's just... I didn't think that it had any bearings on the case."
"What?" Finally, after much rambling from Dawn, even the ever-patient Detective Carlisle had enough. "Just tell me, please."
Dawn took a deep breath. "I'm gay."
Aiden just blinked.
Dawn stared at her in concern, suddenly unsure if she had misjudged Aiden so badly.
"You... you're gay? Are you sure?" was the first thing the surprised detective managed to say.
Dawn had to laugh. "Yes, Detective, I am sure; trust me." She saw Aiden's gaze. "I know, I know... I've been married, right?" Dawn voiced the unspoken question. "But that's not a guarantee for heterosexuality, is it? It was one of the many problems in our marriage."
Aiden nodded in understanding.
"So, you're okay with it... with me?" Dawn asked.
"Of course," Aiden said, not missing a beat. "It would be pretty hypocritical of me if I wasn't."
Dawn had suspected that Aiden might be gay or bi when they first met but had immediately reprimanded herself for the assumption. Being a confident woman with short hair, a purposeful stride, and a successful career in a typically male job was just a sign of a strength that didn't depend on any man, not a sign of lesbianism. But the subtle impression had stayed with Dawn when she had met Aiden again in the small grocery store.
Then she had been raped and Aiden had become her lifeline, the one thing linking her to reality in her state of numbness and chaos. All thoughts about Aiden's sexual orientation – or her own – were gone. All that mattered were Aiden's compassion and the aura of calm and safety she projected.
Aiden didn't say anything more on the subject, but it was clear enough to Dawn that she was either a lesbian or bisexual. Dawn was curious. She wanted to know how her private and her professional life mixed and how a lesbian police officer was treated by her peers, but she decided not to ask any personal questions.
She had sensed from the beginning that Aiden felt uncomfortable discussing herself. It hadn't come as a surprise. From early childhood on, Dawn had known a lot of police officers and had later even counseled some of them. She had found most of them slow to trust and reluctant to reveal personal information. She wasn't sure if it was their work experience which made them distrust people or if their preexisting emotional reserve and discipline were what made them choose a career in law enforcement and be successful in it.
Perhaps it wasn't even the cop-typical reluctance to talk about herself that she felt from Aiden, but her attempts to keep a professional distance from the victim in one of her cases. In her interactions with Aiden, she had sensed more than once that Aiden wanted to show her more than a strictly professional compassion and offer her the help of a friend. But the detective had held herself back, afraid to hurt the investigation and reluctant to step out of the familiar role of an officer and interact simply as a human being. Dawn had resigned herself to accepting the limits that Aiden had set for their acquaintance.
Aiden cleared her throat. "Okay, now that we've got that all cleared up... you said this had something to do with the case?"
"I'm not sure. Sometimes everything I see and hear seems to be connected to the rape; every little noise in the apartment sounds like someone trying to break in, and every stranger in the street looks like him." Dawn swallowed against a dry throat and rubbed clammy hands on her jeans. "I'm not sure if I can trust my own judgment, but I'd rather sound like a paranoid fool than risk him never getting caught just because I was too proud or too scared."
Aiden turned to her, amber eyes sincere. "Just tell me. I promise I won't think you're a fool."
/>
"He... he told her... he told a patient of mine that..." Dawn's hands started to shake, and she wrapped her arms protectively around herself to hide it. "He hit her and said she shouldn't just lie there and act as if... as if she didn't enjoy... being fucked by a real man." She was fighting for breath now, feeling as if she couldn't get enough air. For a few seconds, she was back in her old apartment and his weight pressed her into the mattress.
Then she felt a strong, warm hand take her own – a touch so gentle that her body couldn't mistake it for that of the rapist. Finally, she looked up into compassionate eyes.
"You okay now? Do you want a glass of water?" Aiden asked.
