Finding Gwen

Chapter Six

Iput my truck in park in the hospital lot and lessened my grip on the steering wheel as I looked around for Jason. It had made sense for us to drive separately since I lived on the same side of town as the hospital and he had just finished clean-up at the warehouse when he got the call. That meant I had to wait for him and downtime was never good for me. My mind started to wander, remembering the feeling of Gwendalyn’s arm under my hand. The electricity I had felt when our skin made contact had my body responding in ways it hadn’t in years, long before my ex-wife.

When I had opened the front door to the house and heard my son’s laughter, I swore I was hallucinating. I could count on one hand the number of times I have heard that laugh. Oliver had always been an easy-going boy, friendly to a fault with everyone he had ever met, as if his little brain never truly understood the trauma he had gone through at an early age. I noticed the way he was clinging to her before he saw me standing in the doorway, as if he trusted her completely.

All it took was fifteen minutes in the same room as her and I had felt the same way. There was something about her, the way she stood behind Oliver protectively and talked to him on his level, that made me want to do anything to get her to stay. I hoped my sudden need to leave didn’t sway her in the end, but at the same time, this was my life, and I needed someone who understood that. At the end of all this, I hoped she would still want to stay.

Jason’s car driving through the lot toward me pulled me from my thoughts. Turning off my truck as he parked next to me, I jumped out, double checking that my badge and gun were still attached to my belt, then slipped on my jacket. Jason stepped out of his car, his tall frame unfolding as he did so, and I chuckled at the sight.

“Shut up, asshole.” Jason shot me a look. He hated having to drive his car, typically opting to ride his beloved 1959 Harley Davidson Sportster motorcycle whenever possible. He had helped his dad restore it long before Jason even had his license. I knew how to ride, and when we first became partners, we would go out together. Jason still had his old man’s bike in storage, so I didn’t have much of a reason to own one.

“Where’s your Harley?”I asked.

“I had already locked her up for the night. There have been too many lowlifes wandering around my apartment complex lately, and I couldn’t risk someone getting to her.” He shrugged as he walked around his car with a large cup of coffee in one hand while his other pulled a notepad from his back pocket, already turned to a page covered in his chicken scratch. I had never understood how that man could read his own handwriting.

“You have any idea what we’re walking into?” I pulled my own notepad from my back pocket, the worn pages threatening to fall apart with every use. Flipping through countless pages of assault interviews, I found a blank sheet and pulled out a pen from my inside jacket pocket.

“Female, twenty-nine. She was admitted a few hours ago.” He deciphered his notes as I took down my own, making them legible for when we would ultimately need them later. “They’ve already done a rape kit, and she’s agreed to talk to us. Not sure why we got called in instead of the on-shift detectives, though.” He flipped his notebook closed with a flick of his wrist before shoving it into his pocket as he led the way through the doors into the hospital lobby.

“Probably because you’ve pissed off the captain one too many times,” I said under my breath, but Jason shot a smirk over his shoulder toward me. Internally, I was just as irritated as he was about being called in when we should be off-shift, but the more time we put in, the higher we would go on the totem pole. Soon enough, there would be detective rookies who got these late evening calls. Until then, Jason and I would be first on the list. He really needed to keep his smartass remarks under wraps during roll call.

Jason strolled up to the lobby desk, flashing the nurse on duty his infamous smile, the one that got him anything he wanted. He set the coffee cup on the desk before sliding it toward her. “Hello, my sweet Samantha. How are you doing this fine evening?”

Grabbing the coffee, she took a long sip before setting it down. “Detective Kregler, a pleasure under normal circumstances. I’m relieved they actually sent you two. I had asked the dispatcher to assign y’all, but they mentioned you were off duty.” The playfulness in her expression melted away as she typed away at her computer. Jason looked back at me over his shoulder, and I acknowledged him, understanding now why we were the ones called.

“Anyone sitting with her?” Jason turned his attention back to Samantha.

“One of my nurses. Her name is Sophie Brown. She lives alone and doesn’t have family nearby.” She wrote the room number on a post-it note, sighing as she handed it to Jason. “She’s still pretty shaken.”

“Thanks, Samantha. Have a good night.” Jason nodded to her, then glanced down at the number, heading toward the room.

Before going after my partner, I offered a quick nod of my head. She flashed a sad smile from behind the coffee cup she had brought back to her mouth.

Jogging after Jason, I caught up to him as he stopped in front of a door. Double checking the room number, he shoved the post-it into his pocket as he turned to me. I gave him a knowing look, and he nodded his head in agreement. Jason was typically the one to take on the role of questioning, giving the survivors his full attention while I took notes. If Ms. Brown was still shaken from her encounter, it would make sense why Samantha requested us. For some unknown reason, Jason was always able to make people feel safe, despite his rough exterior. Maybe that was exactly the reason people felt they were able to open up and talk about what they went through.

Jason knocked, waiting for the soft, “Come in,” from the other side before he opened the door. As we walked in, I took in the room. Ms. Brown was sitting in a recliner chair in the far corner with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and one tucked across her lap. A nurse was sitting beside her on a stool, holding her hand and whispering to her. Ms. Brown kept her focus on her lap, not making eye contact as we silently made our way across the space. The nurse stood up, offering her stool to Jason, then moved to stand next to Ms. Brown, as if knowing he preferred sitting when conducting interviews so he wouldn’t tower over everyone.

He sat down, and the wheels of the stool squeaked. “Ms. Brown, I’m Detective Jason Kregler,” he began in a soft voice. “You can call me Jason, though. This is my partner, Detective Anthony Marino. Are you comfortable telling us about what happened to you?”

Ms. Brown nervously nodded her head, a tear escaping down her cheek. “Ye-yes. Um, you can call me Sophie.”

I reached for the box of tissues next to the bed, handing it to the nurse so she could offer it to Sophie, before stepping back to where I was standing. Jason and I had been at this long enough to know that most survivors at this point are still pretty apprehensive around men. We typically tried to reduce contact and keep as much distance as possible.

“Alright, Sophie. Take your time; as much as you need. Whenever you’re ready, start from wherever you feel most comfortable,” Jason spoke, his hands clenched together in front of him, ready to listen to whatever she was able to give us. Continuing to stand nearby, I pulled out my notepad, ready to take notes.

Closing the door behind him, Jason joined me in the hallway, leaving Sophie with the nurse to talk about next steps, including helping her find resources for expressing the inevitable emotions she would have to navigate. I had put our cards on the table near the bed, letting her know if she thought of anything else to not hesitate to reach out.

Looking down at my watch, I groaned at the time and checked my phone for any messages or missed calls. It was close to 8 p.m., which meant Oliver should be going to bed soon. Jason and I still needed to write up our report, as well as debrief with the captain. All I wanted was to get back to my house, so Gwendalyn and I could have a conversation. Making my way out to the parking lot, I was so focused on getting to my truck that I didn’t realize Jason was hot on my heels.

“Hey, Tony, wait up a second!” Only Jason called me that. He knew I hated it, and using the unwelcome nickname was his way of getting my attention. I stopped in my tracks, just outside the hospital doors, as Jason walked up behind me. “How’d the nanny interrogation go? Is she hot?”

I spun around, my fist connecting with Jason’s jaw. Surprise flashed across his features as he cupped his chin. Shaking out my hand, I grimaced. “Shit, I’m—”

“What the fuck, man?” he cut me off. I had no clue what had come over me, but my body was shaking with fury. Twenty minutes in the same room as Gwendalyn, not even alone, and already my brain was claiming her in some possessive way. Jason smirked at me, as if he had just read my mind.

“It’s not like that. Oliver was laughing. Laughing!” Heat rose in my chest, trying to make sense of what was happening as my voice grew louder. “I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve heard that little boy laugh!” I yelled, somehow mere inches away from Jason’s chest.

Jason grabbed my upper arms, dragging me away from the doors. I jerked out of his grasp, annoyed–at myself, not him–but he didn’t need to know that. His hands shot in the air in a defensive stance. “Shit. Okay, I get it.”

Closing my eyes, I clenched my jaw. I seriously needed to get a grip. All of this was so unlike me. So out of control.

“Anthony, go home and straighten all of this out. I’ll handle the paperwork tonight. Just promise to call me if you need a real release.” Jason clasped a hand on my shoulder as he finished, waiting for me to respond. Opening my eyes, I nodded my head, turning away from him and heading toward my truck.

Opening up the door from the garage to the house, I fully expected to hear the sounds of play from my child, seeing as Gwendalyn wasn’t asked to put him to bed. Instead, all I heard was silence. Walking to the kitchen, I found her sitting at the kitchen island with a book and the baby monitor. Her body was relaxed, and I couldn’t remember the last time I had come home to a woman in my home. I cleared my throat, making my presence known, and Gwendalyn snapped her head toward me, jumping in her seat.

“Hi,” she exclaimed, a little louder than she probably intended. I was distracted by her hand on her chest, the loose flowy shirt she was wearing doing very little to hide her curves. She grabbed a bookmark from the counter, sticking it in her book before she closed it. “So sorry. I guess I didn’t hear the garage door. Let me put these last few things away for you.” I shrugged off my jacket, laying it on the back of one of the island chairs while I continued watching her, letting my mind wonder.

She slid from the stool, putting her things into a bag that I hadn’t noticed earlier. My eyes drifted further down her body as she moved around the kitchen, putting away what few things were still out on the counters. The pants she had on clung to her legs like a second skin, the round globes of her ass begging to be cupped and kneaded by my hands. She looked at home in my kitchen, her movements natural as she put things away.

Her hair was down, falling in soft waves down her shoulders. I wanted to run my fingers through the strands, imagining the softness. She stepped in front of me, her closeness stirring some primal instinct from deep within as she offered me the monitor from the island. The smell of citrus invaded my nose and the urge to pull her against me and bury my face into her was overwhelming. Forcing my eyes off her body, I shook the thoughts from my head, mentally scolding myself for, once again, not being able to control myself.

I accepted the monitor, seeing Oliver curled up in his crib fast asleep with his favorite stuffed animal. “Anthony, is everything okay?” Gwendalyn asked quietly, pulling my attention away from the monitor, and it only just hit me that I hadn’t said a word since getting home.

“Oliver is asleep?” The intended statement came out as a question as I blinked down at her.

“Oh, yeah. He started getting sleepy, so I asked if he wanted to put on comfy clothes and snuggle in bed with books. He fell asleep pretty quickly after that.” My eyes slipped back to the monitor, unable to fathom that she had gotten Oliver to bed without a fight. “I’m sorry, Mr. Marino. If I did something—”

“You’re hired,” I cut her off, making my decision final.

“I’m sorry?” She froze, confusion covering her face, and it hit me that I must sound like a crazy person right now.

“The job, being Oliver’s nanny. If you want the job, you’re hired.” That was not coherent, either.

“I’m… We’ve… Are you sure?” She was surprised, her wide blue eyes staring up at me as she picked at the skin around her nails.

“I was prepared to offer you the job when I walked into the house this afternoon and heard Oliver laughing. He’s a sweet boy…” my voice trailed off, as the sound of his giggling danced once more through my mind. Her face softened, and I tore my gaze away, spinning around. She had not just caught me like that. Marching to the fridge, I pulled out a beer from the top shelf and opened it, keeping my back to Gwendalyn as I continued. “Also, he has never gone to bed without a fight. He’s a master negotiator. You seriously got him to bed with books?”

I chanced a glance over my shoulder. Gwendalyn gave me a soft smile and nodded her head. Her cheeks turned a little red, warmth rising in her that was mirrored in the brightness coming from her eyes. So gentle, so kind. “So, do you want the job?” I turned fully and took a swig of beer, waiting for her answer.

“Yes. When can I start?” Her eyes brightened as she answered, the swirls of blue shifting like the waves of an ocean. Any residual anger that had been coursing through my veins was washed away as I stared into them. I could get lost in them for hours.

“Anthony?” Her soft voice pierced through the thread that was weaving a dangerous web between us. It sounded as if she was scared, and I realized I had stepped toward her. Not just a single step. I was less than a foot from her now, close enough that I could feel her breath as she exhaled. It washed warm against my skin, sending a shiver down my spine in the same way my name sounded leaving her lips. Swallowing stiffly, my eyes scanned her body; her shoulders lifted a little toward her ears and her muscles tensed as I did. “Mr. Marino?”

I stepped back and her shoulders relaxed as I put the counter between us. “Monday. I’m off and can help you move your stuff in,” I rushed, barely getting the words out. This was going to be an issue, my attraction to her, and I knew it was something that I would have to keep in check if I wanted her to be here for Oliver. With her bag on her shoulder, she froze, registering my words. “Is everything okay?”

“Why would I need to move my stuff in?” Avoiding my gaze, she began picking at the skin of her nails, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m sorry. I had assumed Carol shared with you the details of what I needed. Because of my occupation, sometimes I get called at weird hours, and I need someone who can be on call whenever I am. Carol informed me I would benefit the most from a live-in nanny and helped me write up a contract. You’d have your own space in the basement, since it is basically an in-law suite. It even has a separate entrance, if you prefer it.” Now I was the nervous one. Setting down my beer and taking a breather, I stopped myself from continuing to ramble.

“I know I just accepted, but could I have some time to think about this? The live-in aspect changes things for me a little…” She winced, a bead of blood gathering on the nail she had just been picking at. Making a fist, she did her best to hide the evidence, gripping onto her bag before lifting her gaze to mine. The lightness in her eyes had shifted, the sadness washing over them darkening her irises.

“Of course,” I answered. “I’ll get your email from Carol and send you the contract. Take tomorrow and think about it. If you have any questions, just let me know.” Hesitantly, she nodded her head.

“Thank you. I will definitely keep in touch. If there isn’t anything else?”

“Let me walk you out,” I offered, answering that she was free to go without explicit words. Following her to the front door, I opened it for her. Turning to me, she offered me a small smile before walking out, and I watched as she got in her car. It didn’t take long for her to start it and drive away. I wasn’t sure what had Gwendalyn closing down so quickly and feeling the need to run. Tonight, I would give her the space she needed to accept us and get comfortable, but whether she realized it or not, she was just going to have to come to terms with it. One way or another, I was going to make sure she accepted the job.