Chapter Twenty-Five
Aurelia
The next few hours are busy, as we greet the police and give statements, and I answer phone calls and emails once the news gets out about me having a stalker.
It’s closing in on six p.m. before I decide it’s time to pack up. I often work later, but it’s been an exhausting day, and I’m more than ready to head home.
As I pack my things away, I wonder what Luke’s up to. After he gave his statement to the police, he joined Ella in the security office, and I know they had a debrief, running through what happened with the rest of the team and discussing the outcome.
To my relief, Marcus wasn’t mad at us and has kind of given us his blessing. I know that was bothering Luke, and now, with the stalker in police custody, I feel as if we can think about the future.
I glance up then, and surprise and pleasure flow through me as I see him leaning against the door jamb, his hands in his pockets, watching me.
“Hey!” I walk around the desk and slide my arms around him, lifting my face for a kiss. For a second, I realize how impulsive that is and wonder whether he’ll scold me for showing affection in the office, but he lowers his head and touches his lips to mine, so I guess he doesn’t mind that much.
“How are you doing?” he murmurs, putting his arms around me.
“I’m okay. A bit tired,” I admit.
“Too tired to go out to dinner?”
I move back and look up at him with a happy smile. “Not at all! Oh, that would be lovely.”
“There’s a nice little Italian not far from where I live.”
“I love Italian. Are you ready to go now?”
“Yeah, come on.”
I grab my briefcase and purse, and together we walk out through the office and into the elevator.
“Do you mind if I call home first?” he asks. “I need to change.” He gestures at his shirt, which has a big streak of dirt on it where he rolled on the floor with Kai.
I suppress a shiver at the thought of how he’d charged into the office and taken Kai down without a second thought. “Not at all, especially as it means I get to see where you live.”
He purses his lips. “Now I’m not sure whether I tidied up before I left.”
“Good. I get to see all your secrets.”
He snorts and takes my hand as the doors slide open. “Yeah, because I have so many things to hide from you.”
We go into the car park and over to my Range Rover. Automatically, I hold the keys out to him. He looks at them, then lifts his gaze to mine. “Technically, my work here is done.”
I lower my hand slowly. “Does that mean you won’t be my CPO anymore?” I get a funny feeling in my stomach at the thought of him not being around. I’ve grown used to having him at my side all the time.
“Again, even if it was decided that you still need one, technically a CPO shouldn’t be involved with their principal.”
We study each other quietly for a moment.
“How does it feel to finally be free?” he asks. I think he’s teasing me.
“I’m glad there’s no obvious threat anymore,” I reply slowly. “And I don’t think I need a CPO permanently. But… if I were to request that you continue to accompany me if I leave the office, what would you say?”
A beautiful smile spreads across his handsome features. “Well, I aim to please.”
“Mm.” I hand him the keys and open the passenger door. “I plan to test that later.”
He grins. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Oh jeez. You continue to say that and we’re going to be just fine.”
Both laughing, we get into the car. He starts the engine, and before long he’s heading out onto the main road.
We chat while he drives, talking about the day. He tells me about the debrief he had with Ella, and how he worked out that Kai was the stalker.
“I’m still shocked,” I say, looking out of the window. “I liked him. I used to give him the slip, and then when he turned up, I’d tease him for being too slow, and he’d always smile. I thought we got on well. Maybe too well, in his head.”
“I don’t know,” Luke says, slowing and turning into a car park. “It’s hard to say why he did what he did.” He slots the car into a space and turns off the engine. Then he turns in his seat to face me. “I’m so sorry you’ve had to deal with all this.”
“It’s okay,” I say, although I know it’s going to take a while for me to recover. “I keep thinking about something though. Can I ask you a question?”
“Fire away.”
“I can’t shake the feeling that he liked my refusal to follow the rules. That he enjoyed the challenge of controlling me, just like Dom.”
“It’s possible.”
“Why aren’t you like that? I don’t feel the same energy from you. I don’t feel that you want to control me the same way they did.”
He thinks about it for a moment. “For me, people are like birds. They aren’t meant to be kept in cages. I think they should have their freedom. And then, if you treat them right, they come home to you at the end of the day because they want to.” He smiles.
It’s such a lovely thing to say that my throat tightens with emotion, and for a moment I can’t speak.
“Come on,” he says softly. “It’ll only take me a minute to get changed and then we can walk to the Italian. I’m starving.”
I ask him what kind of things are on the menu, and we chat as we walk to his building and take the elevator up. He opens the door to his apartment and gestures for me to precede him.
I go into the living area and walk slowly through it toward the kitchen. It’s small and clean. Everywhere is neat and tidy, very Luke.
He tosses his keys on the table, and I rub the bridge of my nose. “I’ve got a bit of a headache. Have you got any Panadol?”
“In the cupboard above the sink.” He walks away toward his bedroom.
I go into the kitchen and open the two cupboard doors above the sink.
The left one contains a box of tools. The right one has the kind of things you’d find in a first-aid box—antihistamine, ibuprofen, plasters, a couple of bandages, and a box of Panadol.
I take them down, pop two out, and take them with a glass of water.
I’m just replacing them in the cupboard when I notice a box behind the tools.
The crest on the front catches my eye, and I lift down the tools, then extract the box.
It’s black and square, maybe four inches by six.
It bears an embossed version of the official New Zealand Coat of Arms. Beneath it are the words “The New Zealand Gallantry Star.”
“That’s better,” Luke says, coming into the kitchen. “I’m ready to go now.” He stops beside me and stares at the box in my hand.
My face flushes. “I’m so sorry. I saw it at the back and recognized the crest.”
He just looks at it and doesn’t say anything.
“Whose is it?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“Mine,” he says. “Apparently.” He turns away. “I made a reservation for six-thirty. We don’t want to be late.”
But I continue to stand there, looking at the box. Carefully, I lift the hinged lid, which is lined with white satin. The medal sits on a molded black-felt insert.
It’s an eight-pointed silver star with a Royal Crown in the middle surrounded by a ring of fern fronds. The ribbon consists of a central purple stripe bordered by narrow white stripes, edged with broad crimson stripes.
I turn to face Luke, who’s waiting beyond the kitchen counter. His hands are in his pockets, and his shoulders are hunched.
“I had to interview a soldier who received one of these for a PR project when I was at university,” I whisper. “It’s awarded for outstanding gallantry in dangerous situations.”
He doesn’t say anything.
“Was this given for the incident in Afghanistan?” I ask.
“Yeah.” He looks at his feet.
“For what reason?”
For a moment, I think he’s not going to reply. Then, in a low voice, he says, “For killing people.”
I walk around the counter, still holding the box, and duck my head to catch his eye. “Honey, they wouldn’t have given a gallantry award for that.”
He lifts his gaze to mine. “What do you want me to say?” His voice is harsh, defensive, but I don’t think it’s me he’s angry with.
“I watched through my scope as my team got ambushed. I saw them all die, and I had to watch what they did to the female officer from a hundred yards away. I was under fire, so I couldn’t leave my post. All I could do was aim my rifle. ” His eyes shine. “Seventeen times.”
My eyes widen as I interpret the number. “You killed seventeen Taliban fighters?”
He nods. “But I couldn’t save my friends. And then I was given a medal. I don’t think being the only one who survived is worthy of commendation, do you?” He stops, breathing heavily.
I look down at the medal. Carefully, I close the lid and put it on the counter. Then I move closer to him. “You killed seventeen of them with a rifle, even though you were under fire?”
Tears well in his eyes. “All those lives taken, and for what?”
I frown. For some reason, they don’t sound like his words. “Were your parents and Penny there when you were presented with the award?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t think any of them could get over the fact that I’d killed people. My parents believed taking a life was always a sin. Penny agreed. When I came home they didn’t congratulate me. Mum cried. Dad said he hoped one day I’d find God’s forgiveness.”
My heart aches for him. He was doing his job, defending his friends, trying to save them. “You weren’t honored because you killed people,” I whisper. “You were honored because you refused to let evil win.” I take his face in my hands. “I am so, so proud of you.”
He looks into my eyes as though trying to decide whether he believes me. His brows draw together. And then his face crumples as tears spill over his lids.
I stand on my tiptoes and wrap my arms around his neck. He slides his around my waist and hugs me tightly. And we stand like that for a long, long time.
*
Much later, we return to his apartment after a long, leisurely dinner. We’ve had a couple of glasses of wine, so neither of us can drive. Unfortunately that means I have to stay the night. Quel dommage!
We’ve spent the evening talking, which eventually evolved into flirting, and all the way back we’ve been talking about what we want to do to each other when we’re eventually alone.