Color of Love (27 page)

A woman screamed. People came out of shops and buildings at the commotion and stood open-mouthed at the action unfolding before them.

The man tripping gave Jason the time he needed, and he rounded the rear end of the car and placed himself squarely in front of the perpetrator.

“Freeze!” Jason demanded in a thunderous voice.

Before he could take aim, the young man was up and had rushed him straight on. Jason crashed backward onto the ground with the suspect trying to continue his escape clear over Jason’s prone body. But Jason grabbed hold of the attacker’s leg and held on as the wiry man twisted and tried to kick his way free.

A crowd gathered at a safe distance, watching but making no attempt to interfere. Leah finally hurried forward as the crowd blocked her sight of Jason. She forced her way through and found Jason wrestling his suspect down. His red cap came off and was kicked to the side. Leah edged her way around the gathering and retrieved the cap from beneath someone’s feet.

Jason had the advantage now. He pulled the flailing young man to the ground and flipped him over onto his stomach. Then he ruthlessly planted his knee in the center of the perp’s back. The man yelled.

Leah was transfixed at the power of one human being over another. For a moment it didn’t matter that one of the men involved was Jason doing his job. And then it mattered most of all.

A police car came around the far corner, without sirens but with lights on. It made several short siren blips, however, to clear a path.

Jason was panting. With his knee planted in the man’s back, he put his gun away and slammed the suspect’s head to the ground to make him stay still. Again the man screamed.

“You got anything on you?” Jason asked as he awkwardly frisked the man.

When two uniformed officers approached, hands on their guns, Jason looked up. “I’m a cop,” he said loudly.

He reached for his ID and shield. Another patrol car arrived and more officers surrounded them.

When the suspect tried to lift his head and an arm, Jason’s knee dug deeper. “Don’t move!”

Leah visibly jumped at the control and hard authority of his voice.

Her world suddenly tilted and she literally felt dizzy, thrown off balance. She had seen all sides of Jason—except this one. This one that was capable of pain, violence, and power. She wondered, suddenly, about what else she didn’t know about him. All of Leah’s earlier fears, when she’d first found out that Jason Horn was a cop, came back in full force—like the nightmare. Her sense of helplessness increased. She felt threatened and shaky and couldn’t dispel the notion that Jason and the man who had mugged her were somehow linked. It was their ability to control and manipulate. Their size and strength that was a power unto themselves. It threatened to sabotage Leah’s intimate knowledge and experiences of Jason, and for a moment she saw him only as a stranger again.

Jason looked up as the uniformed officers asked questions and relieved him of the suspect. He used his forearm to wipe half his face of the perspiration generated during the collar and looked around for his hat. He had a superficial abrasion on the side of his hand, and his chambray blue work shirt was dirty from the sidewalk. He did a double-take when he spotted Leah’s face in the crowd. Her expression was not passive like most of those around her. Instead, Jason saw that her eyes were wide with horror … and revulsion.

But he couldn’t go to her yet. He had to finish with his suspect, fill in the other officers. He braced himself against the withdrawal in Leah’s eyes and turned back to the business at hand.

An ambulance was called for the woman. The two bundles of money were recovered: five thousand dollars. Another roll of money was found on the suspect. A description was given of the second suspect. In just thirty-five minutes the crowd had cleared, the suspect had been handcuffed and carted away, and the injured woman was on her way for medical care.

Jason held his anxiety in check. Not for anything he’d just been through—it had all been routine and had gone smoothly, given the circumstances. But now he had to face Leah. As soon as he could, he excused himself from his colleagues, letting them take over the arrest.

She had returned to Milo’s. Her back was to him, and as he approached he saw that she was paying the bill and accepting her change.

“Leah …”

“I know. You have reports to fill out and a man in custody.”

“Leah.”

He reached her and took her arm. She was shaking. She handed him the red cap and kept a distance between them.

Jason looked at the cap blankly before taking it and stuffing the bill in the back pocket of his jeans. “I’m done. The other officers will take over. They don’t need me for an arrest.”

“It’s okay. I’ll go home. I’ll—”

“Leah,” he said calmly. “What’s wrong?”

When she didn’t meet his gaze, he felt his annoyance level rise, although he didn’t show it.

“Nothing. I just want to go home.”

“Fine. I think we could both use a drink. I think I have some wine, and we can relax—”

“No! I want to go home.”

Leah pulled her arm free and tried to walk away. She turned and crashed right into a bistro table and knocked a chair over.

Jason righted the chair, and while he did so Leah began walking away. Jason cursed under his breath and sprinted after her. When he caught up, he circled an arm around her waist and forcibly steered her into the recessed entrance of a clothing shop already closed for the night. He didn’t say anything and Leah didn’t try to move. He stood close to her and could actually feel her fear. He could smell his own sweat and the calmer, cleaner fragrance of her body talc. Leah was breathing hard.

“Talk to me,” Jason demanded patiently.

“I … it was …” she struggled.

Finally she looked up into his face, and Jason’s heart constricted at the look of stark terror. Her eyes were filling with tears. He didn’t touch her.

“I don’t think I can do this.”

“Do what?”

Leah shook her head. “I just can’t, Jason … it was so awful. So scary.” She had no idea how to explain how painfully vulnerable the incident had made her feel. She could feel the way the mugger had placed his hands over her mouth, cutting off her breathing. She could recall the way he tried to force her down. …

“And violent? Yes, it is. Some people are violent. Sometimes there is violence.”

“What you do is violent, too,” she said accusingly.

“You’re right. Sometimes. It can’t be helped. But I also try to keep people from getting hurt. I’m sorry, but the two go hand in hand.”

Leah shook her head from side to side. “I can’t … I can’t.”

Jason took firm hold of both her arms. “What, can’t you? What?”

“I don’t think I can handle knowing … that can happen.” She indicated with a tilt of her head the direction of the arrest. “That you could be involved.”

Jason pulled her closer until there was barely two inches between them. “This is my job,” he whispered urgently. “This is what I do. But this is
not
who I am, Leah. No one should realize that better than you. I don’t use force unless I have to. I don’t get off on power or hurting people.”

She just closed her eyes and shook her head, tears spilling down her face. She swayed and braced closed fists on his chest.

“Did you have to pull your gun?”

“He had a weapon,” Jason said softly.

He watched as her eyes opened and her vision glistened brightly. Leah tried to assimilate the information and to process it to a logical conclusion. At least, Jason hoped that she would. But he could see that the fear remained in place. Jason just kept his hold on her and waited until she finally focused on him.

She opened her fists and ran her palms over his chest. His skin was damp and hot under the shirt; it was marked with perspiration. And it was dirty. She abruptly stopped crying.

“Your shirt is torn,” she said in quiet observation. She looked into his face, examining it with a frown. “You … have a scratch. Here …” She lifted her hand to touch it.

Jason waited.

“Hey, Horn!”

Leah jumped again.

He half turned from the recess, although he kept his position shielding Leah, his hands on her.

“Yeah?”

“You want to come and claim this one?”

Jason shook his head. “You take it. You guys can owe me one.”

He turned back to find Leah still staring at him. Her expression was thoughtful and considering, recuperating from her shock. Her hands pressed against his chest.

“Oh, Jason.” She breathed out his name. She rested her forehead on his chest. He held her in a loose embrace.

The moment was bittersweet to him.

“After I get cleaned up, I’ll take you home,” Jason said softly.

He hoped she couldn’t see his own fear and disappointment.

It was the first time they’d made love that afterward Leah felt that something was missing. She’d not been able to get back to that place where she and Jason felt perfect together. Where he filled her senses and she believed anything was possible between them. For the first time there was caution and hesitancy, and nothing to hold them together after the climax. Leah had not been able to feel Jason’s satisfaction with her, even when he was inside her and his body strained to spill itself.

Leah had not expected that they would make love when he’d brought her home. But Jason had said to her, “Let’s go upstairs,” and she’d not questioned it. In her bedroom it had all happened quickly and mechanically, and a terrible fear gripped her afterward.

When Jason finally got up to use’ the bathroom, Leah curled up, wondering what they would say to each other when he returned. But she never knew when that was because she fell to sleep. And fell right into the dream …

An hour later, Leah groaned and wept her way out of sleep. Jason, lying quietly but awake next to her, watched as she struggled.

“No. Noooooo,” Leah moaned. Her body twisted. “Don’t. Please …”

Jason leaned over her, holding her shoulder. “Wake up, Leah. Wake up. It’s a dream.” She sprang halfway up, her face contorted. Jason captured her in his arms and again murmured to her, “Hey. Take it easy. It’s just a dream. And it’s all over.”

Leah went limp in his arms. Her body was warm and damp. “Is he … gone?” she whispered nonsensically.

“What?”

She opened her eyes and looked beseechingly at him. It surprised Jason to see the depths of her distress. She blinked rapidly, finally realizing where she was and with whom. But Jason puzzled over what she’d meant.

“You just had a bad dream. That’s all,” he whispered, brushing her hair from her face.

She shook her head. “It never feels like a dream.”

“What were you dreaming about?”

Again she shook her head. “Could you please … just hold me?”

Jason did so silently. For a long time. The moment struck him as odd and different. Not because he held her, but because Leah had asked him to. It occurred to Jason that in all the time he’d known her, Leah had never asked anything of him.

It seemed an astounding realization, and Jason wondered why she had held herself back from him in that way. Was it his fault? Did she not trust him enough? Did he not care enough to notice? It made Jason feel helpless in a whole new way. Scared, even.

Other than Michael, no one had ever needed him before.

“L
EAH? HI.”

Leah hesitated before answering. She sometimes had a moment of ambivalence when Jason called. “Hi. How are you?”

“A little hectic. I hate this new schedule,” Jason confessed contritely.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“It shoots my social life to hell, for one thing.”

Leah made no comment. It was the first concrete statement she’d had from Jason that his social life didn’t always include her. She tried to use the information as a way of protecting her feelings, but it didn’t always work. “Want to come for dinner?” she offered.

“I can’t tonight.”

“Oh …”

“I have to coach an indoor handball tournament in the Bronx. I called to find out if maybe you’d like to go.”

Leah was amused. Another sporting event. It made her wonder what Jason had done on dates with other women. Had they been taken to concerts, or shows, or long drives while she got the locker room tour? Leah laughed softly at the irony of it. She guessed it didn’t really matter. They still got to be together.

“What’s so funny?” Jason asked her.

“What would I do at a handball game, Jason?”

“You could cheer.”

“I could stay home.”

“Please, Leah. Nobody should have to go to the Bronx alone. Keep me company?”

“Just what did you do before you met me?” she said, unable to keep the impatience from her tone.

“Complained a lot. But I went.”

“All right, all right, I’ll go. Are we having dinner?”

“No, you go ahead and eat, but I’ll be there to get you in an hour and it’s another hour’s ride from your place.”

“Fine. I’ll be waiting in front of the house.”

Despite her less than enthusiastic agreement to attend the tournament, Leah was glad of a chance to be away for the evening. The atmosphere at home was more than a little chilly between her and Gail. Leah hung up the phone and sat still for a moment. She felt a surge of annoyance for not telling Jason that she didn’t want to travel to the Bronx, either. She wasn’t in the mood to sit in a cold gym and watch a bunch of foul-mouthed teens work out their aggressions by hitting a ball against a wall. But her annoyance did nothing to dispel the accompanying anxiety. She did want to be with Jason. And he was calling all the shots.

Leah got up from the sofa in the living room and headed for the kitchen. She nearly collided with Gail in the hallway.

“Jason?” Gail asked with raised brows.

“Yes. Why?” Leah responded, realizing almost immediately how defensive she sounded.

Gail scoffed and made an impatient sound. “He certainly knows which buttons to push. All he has to do is call and you drop everything. How pathetic.”

The accusation cut deeply, but Leah forced her expression to stay blank. “I know you don’t like Jason, so I’m not going to bother to answer.” She tried to move around her sister.