Side Effects

by VK Powell

  Jordan chose not to correct Bex’s inaccurate assessment. “I’ve tried to overcome the imprinting, but sometimes it flares up. Most kids brought up in a really strict environment go to one extreme or the other, saint or sinner. My pendulum swung heavily to the sinner side.”

  “And what about relationships?”

  Jordan raised her hand for another drink to steel her for what came next but changed her mind and waved the bartender off. “I’ve never actually had one.”

  “Really? You always hung with me in the bar and had your share of women.”

  “Sex is easy, at least the doing part. Relationships require intimacy, sharing, and trust—all the things I suck at.” She could tell by the look on Bex’s face she wasn’t grasping the full meaning of her words, and Jordan wasn’t sure she could tell her more.

  “I’m sorry, Jordan. I’m glad you’re talking to Molly. I mean a professional, somebody who can help. God knows I’m crap at it.”

  “But I don’t always follow the plan, you know? Don’t always listen. And you’re right. Our sessions are why I’ve been so on edge lately. I think I’d rather go into a gunfight with only three bullets than deal with some of the stuff she’s digging up.” Jordan pushed her empty glass away. She’d told Bex more than anyone, but she couldn’t tell her everything.

  Jordan hadn’t gotten past her physical barriers. Her casual partners seemed content with being pleasured and not having to reciprocate. But most women tired of a rough exterior and feral rutting and eventually wanted tenderness and intimacy. All of her liaisons had sought that in the end. She thought about Neela and the liquor in her stomach churned. What had she been thinking, involving Neela in her disaster of a life? What had Neela thought about her pathetic sexual displays? She shook her head, trying not to imagine.

  “Hey, at least you’re working on it. That means a lot. So, want to tell me what happened last night, with the Blackmon woman?”

  “She was all over Neela. I had to peel her off.”

  Bex waited until Jordan looked at her. “But what happened with you?”

  “I lost it. I don’t know what’s going on between us, but it’s making me crazy. I’ve never felt anything like this, and I don’t know what to do about it. I feel possessed. I have to have her, but I don’t deserve her and can’t give her what she needs.”

  “What did you do, Jordan?”

  “I had sex with her in my police car in the university parking lot.” Bex’s jaw tightened and she didn’t speak for several seconds. “Say it. Don’t handle me with kid gloves because I’ve told you all my shit.”

  “What were you thinking? I know what you were thinking with. She has a partner. She’s a classy woman who deserves to be treated properly.”

  “She doesn’t have a partner. Bina is her mother.”

  Bex’s surprise didn’t overshadow her irritation. “And that makes it all right that you fucked her in your squad car?”

  “No, I didn’t mean that. She wanted it…I mean…I told her to go home.”

  “After the fact, I’m sure. Jordan, she’s caring for an ailing mother, trying to save her subordinates’ jobs, and working on a cure for God knows what, and you’re offering her a quick hookup. She deserves somebody who loves her, who can share her burdens and offer her happiness. And I’m not saying that to be cruel. You’re just not where she is right now.”

  Jordan winced. Bex was right, and hearing the words aloud that she’d already told herself stung. She was a fallow field compared to Neela’s abundance.

  “What should I do?”

  “If you can’t give her what she deserves, then leave her alone so she can find someone who can.”

  Jordan buried her face in her hands. “I’m not sure I can stay away from her.”

  “Then you better deal with your issues and figure out how you feel about her. Be as honest with her as you’ve been with me. That would be a great place to start.”

  “You sound like Molly.”

  “I obviously give good advice and without the charge.” Bex elbowed her in the ribs, eyed a group of women who’d just entered the bar, and scooted toward the edge of her chair.

  “Before you go, I should probably tell you something else.”

  Bex leaned over the table, her expression set for the worst. “What?”

  “I’ve got a dog.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “Nope. The one I almost ran over the other night.”

  “And you’re…taking care of him?”

  “Well, he certainly isn’t taking care of me. It’s only temporary until his owner comes forward. He’s sort of cute and sweet. I call him Blue because in the moonlight his white coat looked totally blue and his eyes are the same color as mine.”

  “Great, a canine version of you. Aren’t you dog enough? Okay, now I really do need to get drunk. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve spotted the love of my evening. See you bright and early tomorrow morning. We’re back on days.”

  “And you call me a dog? You’re the biggest one in the kennel.”

  “Seriously, though, thanks for talking to me. I know it wasn’t easy.”

  Jordan watched Bex work her magic with her woman of the hour. At least she realized she was playing a game and knew how to stop when she met someone of quality. Bex’s previous relationship had lasted fifteen years before her partner left for a younger woman. Jordan wasn’t certain she knew how to stop pretending and just be herself, whoever that was.

  Bex pointed to a particularly luscious blonde who would normally have pushed all Jordan’s sexual buttons, but tonight she didn’t touch the ache for Neela that had become a constant. She shook her head and left the bar, choosing to take a cab back to her apartment.

  *

  “What troubles you so, Beta?” Bina brushed her gnarled hand across Neela’s forehead. The intimacy of the gesture and the pain she was certain it caused made Neela’s heart ache.

  “Nothing, Mama. I’m fine. Did you take your medicine tonight?” Bina’s rheumatoid arthritis had grown progressively more painful in the last year, and the inflammation had made even some of the simplest tasks impossible.

  “Do not change the subject. I am fine, but I worry for you. You never go out. You work always. This is not the life your father and I imagined for you.”

  “You and Papa did everything for me, coming to a country you didn’t know, working menial jobs so I could go to good schools, denying yourselves the simplest pleasures. The least I can do is make your life more comfortable now. Please let me.”

  “But you are only thirty-six. A young woman needs a life, a lover, joy.”

  Neela’s mind flashed to Jordan, hunched over her back, trying desperately to come, and her body heated. “I don’t have time for love.” But she’d make as much time for sex as Jordan wanted. Neela enjoyed things with Jordan she never thought she would and felt more deeply than she imagined possible. Maybe her life had simply been too bland and Jordan had shown her variety. If Jordan could only offer a few minutes in a public toilet, she’d take it.

  “Your eyes say different. Do not try to fool an old woman. Is it because of me?”

  “Don’t talk crazy, Mama. I love being here with you. You keep me sane.”

  “And single, I think. It is hard to live with an aging, decrepit mother. Maybe I should go to one of those assisted-living places. I could make new friends, and you could have a real life.”

  Neela’s inside recoiled at the thought of losing her mother even temporarily. They’d shared everything since her father died, and being without her would be too painful. She took Bina’s hands. “Mama, I don’t want you to go, ever. If I’m to have what you call a real life, it will be with someone who understands the meaning of family and who loves and adores you as much as I do. Okay?”

  Bina’s eyes filled with tears as she nodded.

  Neela helped her finish dinner and prepared her for bed. She seemed to be having a good night, so maybe she could sleep in her own bed for the first time in
a week. “Your place or mine?” She never wanted Bina to feel like a burden. The weight of it pressed against her like a stone.

  “My room. I feel brave.” Bina hobbled beside her until they reached her bedroom filled with brightly colored fabric and pictures of her departed father. The room reminded Neela of her roots in the Indian culture and the philosophies she still held sacred, such as karma, reincarnation, and the concept that no religion is superior.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, Beta. Now go.” Bina kissed her cheek and shooed her away.

  “Call if you need anything.”

  Neela left the bedroom door ajar so she could hear if Bina called. She couldn’t remember the last time her mother had a good night, and she looked forward to a peaceful evening of reading and relaxing. After a quick shower, she pulled on her old terry-cloth robe and thought about the last time she’d worn it. Jordan had ripped it off her just before taking her from behind. The memory was so powerful she clutched the doorframe for support.

  Neela had known she was in trouble as soon as she met Jordan, but that night she’d gotten a glimpse of just how reckless and intense Jordan could be, and it excited her beyond reason. Last night Jordan’s wildness seemed a cover for something else. She’d pulled away when Neela tried to touch her intimately, and Neela worried her difficulty went much deeper than the physical. Why hadn’t she listened more closely to what Jordan said and to what she struggled so desperately not to say?

  She settled into her old leather recliner beside the fireplace with a cup of green tea and picked up Life of Pi and her glasses. She’d been trying to find time to read it for months. As she opened to the acknowledgments, the front picture window shattered and glass raked over her like sharp razors, leaving trails of blood. She stared at the streaks of red running down her arms, too stunned to realize what had happened. Before her mind kicked into gear, someone was pounding on the door.

  “Police. Open up.”

  The scene finally registered, and Neela flung open the door before racing to Bina’s room. Her mother was still sound asleep. Thank God. If anything happened to you, I wouldn’t survive. She stroked Bina’s forehead with a quivering hand and returned to the family room.

  “You’re injured.” Phil Morris stood in the doorway gesturing to her cuts. “I’ll call an ambulance.”

  “No. They’re superficial. I’ll clean and bandage them myself if necessary.” Her voice sounded too clinical. She was probably in shock. “Who? Why?”

  “I don’t know. Harry’s looking for him. He came out of nowhere and disappeared in the bushes. The sergeant will have our asses, not to mention Jordan. She’s very protective of you and your mother.”

  “What am I supposed to do about this?” She pointed to the gaping hole that used to be her family-room window.

  “We have a repairman on call. He could bring some plywood and secure it until you get a glass man out tomorrow.”

  “Thank you. If you’ll excuse me.” She went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. The left side of her face was red from a bleeding wound near her hairline, and her arms looked like she’d been running through a briar patch. She mechanically removed the first-aid kit from the cabinet and cleaned the scratches, relieved that all but the one on her forehead had already stopped bleeding. She applied a Steri-Strip and returned to the cacophony of activity invading her family living space.

  Phil was taking pictures of the damage and a huge rock with his cell phone. A piece of paper was secured around the stone with a rubber band, and he carefully removed it with his gloved fingers. The note was similar to the first one but more threatening.

  I told you we know where you live.

  Stop what you’re doing before it’s too late.

  This is your last warning.

  Neela’s stomach churned. This sick, anonymous bastard had violated her home and her family, and she had no idea what she was supposed to stop doing in order to appease him. He had struck twice with the police only yards away. Her confidence in the protection detail took a nosedive.

  After Phil finished the report and the repairman left, Neela rolled her yoga mat out beside Bina’s bed. She couldn’t leave her alone after what had happened, and since she wouldn’t sleep, she wanted to be close. She could fight for herself and Bina when she was here, but what about when her mother was alone and more vulnerable? Whatever it took, she’d see that Bina wasn’t harmed.

  Chapter Ten

  When Bex pulled in front of Neela’s house the next morning, Jordan was out of the vehicle before it stopped, running to the door. The huge sheet of plywood across what used to be the picture window spelled trouble. The night-shift guys had obviously dropped the ball, and she’d deal with them later. She just hoped no one was injured. She pounded on Neela’s door and kept pounding until she finally opened it, dressed for work. Jordan stopped her fist mid-air when she saw Neela’s scratched arms and bandaged forehead.

  “You’re hurt.” She wanted to touch Neela, to make sure she was okay, but she couldn’t force her arm forward.

  Neela took Jordan’s hand and pressed it to her cheek. “I’m fine. See. Still warm and no permanent damage.” How did she know what Jordan was feeling, what she needed, when she wasn’t sure herself? And how did she touch so easily and so gently when Jordan struggled with anything beyond sexual groping?

  Neela’s skin was so warm and incredibly soft, but visibly scarred. Her brown eyes were wide and held a glint of something she hadn’t seen before, fear, maybe, or confusion. Jordan breathed deeply and her anger rose. “Goddamn it. Somebody will pay.” She turned toward the detectives across the street.

  Neela grabbed her arm. “Stop. It’s not serious, and it wasn’t their fault.”

  “It’s their job to see nothing happens to you or…is Bina okay?” She brushed past Neela and scanned the hallway and adjoining areas within sight. As she started going room to room, a short, slightly stooped woman came out from the kitchen.

  “And who is this come here to save us, dear Beta?” The rolling r’s and long consonants of the rich Indian accent dissolved some of Jordan’s anxiety, and she stopped.

  Bent and slowed by her twisted joints, a silver-haired woman wrapped in a bright-orange sari moved toward Jordan with determination. Her inviting smile was the same as Neela’s, and Jordan was instantly drawn to her.

  She raised her hand and pointed a crooked finger at Jordan. “I see you.” Bina surveyed her up and down, her head tilting from side to side and her smile never wavering. Raising her arm with obvious effort, she touched Jordan’s white hair. “We have both lived hard.” She motioned toward the kitchen. “You two come.” She turned and led the way, obviously expecting them to follow.

  Jordan didn’t want to resist as Neela looped their arms, and they followed Bina into the kitchen. “I need to tell the guys—”

  “I think they’ll figure it out,” Neela said. “When Bina Sahjani summons you for a cup of tea, you don’t keep her waiting.”

  “I see that.” Jordan glanced around as they walked toward the back of the house. Each room was filled with soothing colors, family pictures, and soft surfaces to ease aches and encourage intimacy. Even the air smelled like a home—breakfast cooking, coffee brewing, and freshly washed clothes. Huddled in her bunk at the orphanage, she’d often imagined how a real family lived. This was it. Her chest ached for what she’d missed.

  Neela squeezed her forearm. “You okay?”

  She could only nod.

  “Neela, our guest needs coffee.” Turning to Jordan, Bina motioned to a circular table beside the window overlooking a flower-lined lawn. Jordan pulled a chair out for Bina and she sat. “A hero with manners.” She smiled appreciatively and offered her hand. “I am Bina.”

  “Jordan Bishop, ma’am. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She hadn’t meant anything so sincerely in months. Bina had captured her with only a smile and a few kind words. How simple she made it seem. “Are you all right? It must’ve been scary last night
.”

  “Slept like a baby. When I awoke Neela was on the floor beside my bed so I knew something was wrong. But we are safe, and that is all that matters.” Her lilting cadence and precise English seemed formal but fit her sophisticated manner.

  Neela handed Jordan a cup of coffee, Bina a tea, and sat across from them. “Yes, just a little commotion, but at least Bina wasn’t disturbed.” Her tone was guarded, and Jordan took the hint not to discuss the incident further in front of her mother.

  “So, Jordan, how do you know my Neela?” Bina’s brown eyes drilled into Jordan and heat rose up her neck.

  “We met at work,” Neela said. “Detective Bishop was asking about an acquaintance.”

  “I see,” Bina said. “She is a genius, my daughter, but she works too hard and has no life.”

  “Mama.”

  Bina ignored Neela’s warning tone. “I want her to be happy, find someone to love. She spends too much time taking care of me. Do you not think a woman needs love?”

  “Mama, please.”

  Bina waved her hand dismissively and directed her next question to Jordan as well. “Do you have someone?”

  Neela raised her hands in resignation. “That is so inappropriate, Mama.”

  Bina continued as if Neela hadn’t spoken. “Attractive women such as yourselves should have someone.” She smiled that arresting smile again and looked back toward the front of the house. “What are we to do about the window? It is too chilly for an open living space just yet.”

  “I’ve called the glass company, Mama. They should be here shortly. I’ll wait until they’ve repaired the window before I go to the office.”

  “Let our Jordan speak, please.” She shook her head when Neela offered more tea and returned her attention to Jordan. “Tell me about yourself. Where is your family? Do you live nearby? How many siblings do you have?”

  Jordan felt the shame of her past crawling over her like a sickness. “I don’t—”

  “Bina, stop. Jordan isn’t here to be interrogated.”