Lenina paused en route to the kitchen, drawing a deep breath through her nose. She could still smell Tristen on the air; his peppermint breath and a trace of his spicy aftershave. It brought to mind his smile and gentle hand on her arm. Her cheeks warmed.
Armed with the pleasant memory, she entered the kitchen. Ray waited for her at the table, massive hands wrapped around a mug of tar-like coffee. The bitter scent warred with the peppermint and chased it away, as if even her father’s beverage wanted the detective gone. Opposite him was another mug, again of coffee. A pot of sugar stood beside it, spoon sticking out to one side.
‘I don’t like coffee,’ she whispered.
Ray pursed his lips. ‘Then I’ll drink it. But you should lay off food this morning.’
‘Why?’
‘Stress and shock can do funny things to your insides. Make sure you’re settled before you try anything solid.’
She sat down. Picked up the mug. Put it down without drinking. ‘I’m sorry, Daddy.’
‘What for?’
Though she opened her mouth, the response refused to surface.
He snorted. ‘You don’t even know why.’
His words cut like razor blades. ‘For not telling you what happened. I didn’t plan to.’
‘I know. But I worry about you.’
She gripped the edge of the table. ‘I’m twenty seven, not a little girl. I can cope.’
‘Can you?’
Glaring into his calm, steady face, she saw the question in his arched eyebrows. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
He sighed. ‘Sometimes things happen that you can’t help. But they change you. I want to be sure you’re ready for whatever comes next.’
‘There is no ‘next,’ it was just a crazy, homeless man. I want to move on and forget the creepy guy even exists. I’m more concerned about this horrible scratch on my face and what to do about the catering. Two weeks really isn’t very long.’
Ray leaned back in his seat. He tucked his thumb into his mouth and gnawed the nail. ‘You and Jordan are everything to me. If anything happened . . .’
‘It didn’t. I’m hurt, but okay.’
‘You don’t feel weird? Ill? Tense?’ His gaze strayed to the bandage on her neck.
‘Of course I’m tense; you haven’t stopped nagging me since you arrived. I thought Mum was supposed to do that.’
‘We swapped, I’m better at it than she is.’
It took Lenina several seconds to realise he’d made a joke.
Ray sighed. ‘Would you tell me if something was wrong?’
She thought back to earlier that morning and the excruciating pain in her midsection. Dry heaving over the toilet bowl. Bizarre and full sensory dreams about soldiers in ancient battles.
Lenina nodded. ‘Of course I would.’
He stared. She gazed back, giving him bland, innocent eyes.
‘What’s all this about the doctor?’
‘Tristen suggested it.’
The guarded look returned to Ray’s eyes. ‘Did he?’
‘He thought it would be a good idea if I had blood tests and some counselling.’
‘I get the counselling. Though he should have offered you an in-house doctor. You said the man bit you.’
‘Yes. And I bit back.’ She frowned. ‘You okay?’
He gazed at his hands. ‘I’m so sorry this happened to you.’
‘It’s not your fault.’
‘I’m your father. I’m supposed to protect you.’
‘How? You were miles away. Please don’t get weird over this. It’s why I didn’t want to tell you.’
He nodded, but his eyes gave away his pain. ‘Let me call the doctor. You lie down.’
Lenina nodded, not knowing what else to do. After planting a kiss on his cheek she returned to her room. Shucking the dressing gown, she crawled beneath the duvet and snuggled down. When the floor boards creaked a short while later, she considered faking sleep.
‘Chuck? They didn’t have any appointments for today so you’re booked in for Monday.’
She uncovered her head. ‘Not even emergency ones?’
‘I tried to explain but the receptionist said the risks of blood-borne diseases is pretty low.’
‘The receptionist? What does she know?’
‘That’s what I said. So I talked to a doctor. She said the same thing.’ Ray sniffed. ‘So did the other three.’
‘Daddy . . .’
‘If they’re not even going to look at you today I want to be sure they know what they’re talking about. The last one gave me a list of counsellors though. I stuck it to the fridge.’
‘Thanks, but Tristen already offered me one.’
The bed springs squealed and compressed on one side. Lenina peeped out of the duvet to watch her father sit beside her.
‘Tristen?’
Too late she realised the error. ‘Sergeant Blake.’
He started chewing his thumbnail again.
‘What’s wrong, Daddy?’
‘Am I that transparent?’ Ray folded his hands in his lap and swivelled to face her. ‘Don’t you think it’s odd that he came here alone?’
A creeping warmth crawled up Lenina’s neck. She raised the duvet to her chin. ‘No.’
‘I do. Police aren’t supposed to do that. Something about safety.’
‘Like I’d beat him up?’
‘You wouldn’t, chuck, but yours isn’t his only case. Policemen work in pairs to protect themselves and the people they see.’
‘Why would I need protection?’
‘Ever heard of police brutality?’
‘Of course, but he was nothing but nice to me.’
‘Too nice.’ Ray leaned over the bed, causing the mattress to complain even more.
The warmth progressed to her cheeks. ‘He was just doing his job.’
‘Girls like you don’t see it; you’re too—’ he waved his hand around, as if to pluck a word from the air, ‘naive.’
‘I’m not.’
‘Men like him prey on girls like you, taking advantage of their position of power. I’ve seen predators like him before. He practically licked his lips when he looked at you.’
Lenina searched for the right words to disagree. Then she remembered the soft touch of his hand, the sound of her name falling from his lips. In her mind’s eye, Lenina saw the deep intensity of Tristen’s gaze as it followed her through the room. The sexy twist of his smile. She heard the low rumble of his voice and felt her lower body heat up enough to match her face. He’d stopped being Sergeant Blake some time ago. She shook her head, fighting to push it all away. The struggle resembled trying to shift a house from its foundations with her bare hands, exhausting and impossible.
‘He’s a policeman,’ she said, hoping her voice didn’t sound as weak as she felt.
‘I don’t care.’ Ray’s hands made fists on the bed, scrunching up the duvet. ‘Don’t see him by yourself.’
‘Don’t you trust me? I’m getting married, remember?’
‘How could I forget?’ He cocked an eyebrow. ‘My savings account is still screaming for mercy. But, it’s not you I distrust.’
‘What could he possibly do to me?’
‘Wouldn’t you prefer not to find out?’
Another shiver rippled down her spine, this one like the tickle of a warm, teasing finger. She bit her lip.
Mistaking the gesture, Ray grasped her shoulder. ‘I don’t want to frighten you, but that man is trouble. Good men go bad all the time. It doesn’t take much. All the goodwill and morals in the world mean nothing in the face of something you really want.’
She smiled. ‘Some bus drivers can’t be saved, right?’
‘I wasn’t always a bus driver. Please be careful.’
Lenina nodded; she’d seen the medals and heard the stories enough times. ‘I will.’
Ray’s shoulders relaxed. A smile returned to his lips. ‘Thank you.’ He kissed her forehead, stood and walked to the door. ‘Do you want me to stick ar
ound for when you wake up?’
‘Don’t you have work?’
‘Not today.’
She considered asking him to stay. The idea that he might be around to hug her when she woke, appealed more than felt comfortable to her grown-up self. It took her back to her childhood days and the dark, winter nights in which he’d told her fun stories to protect her from monsters beneath the bed. The days in which she was still his Little Woodchuck.
Then she thought of Tristen and the greedy way his eyes drank in the features of her face. She pressed her thighs together and moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. Lenina found herself wondering what it might be like to feel those eyes caress the rest of her body. To feel his hands stroke her bare skin. To feel his lips against her ear as he whispered her name.
‘I’ll be fine. Go home.’
‘Call me when you wake up.’ Ray’s voice saved her from the fantasy. ‘I’ll answer, even if I’m driving.’
She took a deep breath. ‘I will. Promise.’
He loitered long enough to give her a tight smile. ‘Bye, chuck.’