Chapter 27

"We need to do your hair now. You can go to the shower for that. It'll be easier to clean and can be done more thoroughly. Can you do that on your own or do you want me to help you?"

I nodded, still very dazed. "I think I can do it."

He had the Jacuzzi drained before I knew it and he was standing. He looked down at where I was still sitting. Dripping wet as well, he bent down and wrapped an arm around my back softly. "Are you okay to move?"

I nodded again and when he stood back up, I forced my feet to work with him. It was really hard to do since my legs hurt worse than I thought. I groaned and bit my lip. He left my side when we stood and stepped out of the Jacuzzi, leaving me standing there on shaky legs. I got a chance to really look at him. His plain shirt was soaked and so was his pair of old looking shorts. They were more than wet though. As he stood there, the water that ran down his arms and legs were tinted slightly red; I knew I looked much worse. He stood there, not a glance offered to the dripping mess he was making, and he outstretched his hand towards me to help me out.

"Can you step out and walk?"

I nodded again but was really unsure, still unable to say much of anything after those words. I was able to stand but could feel my legs growing weak. When I tried stepping out, my legs shook violently and I nearly fell back into the huge tub. He was ready though and cautious; Luke was quick to lean forward and wrap his strong arm around me and hold me up, forcing my chest to his. His arm around my back, I felt his other go to my thighs. He helped drag me out of the Jacuzzi, all the while I was fully pressed against him. He was quick to move the few feet to the regular tub in this fancy bathroom. I felt bad he was doing so much for me over getting beaten, just to clean me up. But there was just so much blood.

He helped me sit down in the tub. "Your legs are too sore and still in shock from what happened. I'll do it. Just relax."

He started the warm water from where he was kneeling outside the tub. He pulled me up more until I was siting cross legged again, this time my back to the side that wasn't covered by the glass door. He started the shower and grabbed the shower head. It was long enough for when where I was, thankfully. Luke knelt behind me, outside of the tub on the tile. My back to him in the tub, this would be done much easier.

Before he did anything, he rested the spraying head - that's what she said - against the side to free his hands. Something touched my hair and I realized he was taking the band out. He let my hair fall from my bun a moment later. I tried reaching behind me to help but it resulted in a sharp pain running up my neck.

"Let me take care of it," he said. And he did. He washed my hair from where he knelt behind me. From the angle in which he was washing my hair, from outside of the tub, the water was getting all over the bathroom. But soon, I closed my eyes and enjoyed the feeling; seeing as he didn't care, I didn't either.

My head was hit hard today and I was sore. But his fingers that were working in my hair felt so amazing and relaxing. He massaged my head and ran his hands through my long hair. Though my eyes were shut, I knew the water was now running red. It took awhile just rinsing my hair of it.

We were silent as he did this. I figured he was just rinsing my long hair out but I didn't object when he continued after. I felt the water stop and knew he set the hanging shower head aside for a moment. The next thing I heard was a small snap of a bottle and then felt his hands back in my hair with a cool cream. He was shampooing my hair - and I was more than happy to sit patiently as he did that. It felt so good, shivers running up my skin even though the water was so hot and causing the mirrors to steam. After he rinsed my hair out, he then repeated that process but with conditioner this time.

After that was over and he rinsed my hair, he helped me stand up. Though it was hard to stand, I was able to manage. I knew I could stand for at least a couple minutes so I was able to rinse the rest of my body off by myself (unfortunately). He left for a minute to get me fresh clothes and when he was gone in that second, I stripped off my stained camisole and shorts, which took a little effort in removing. I continued to stand there after rinsing, under the raining water in just my bra and panties. It felt good to be fully rinsed of blood now. I slowly shut the water off when done.

Before I could grab the towel though, Luke came back and in sight. When his eyes fell on me, his cheeks heated and his eyes even lingered when he looked me over. But he quickly turned the other way just as I snatched the towel a little late. Looking to the floor, he said quickly before I could apologize, "Dry off then do you think you can handle getting dressed? Or will you need help?"

Oh shit. It was hard just standing at times. I wasn't sure. I honestly wouldn't mind him helping me with that but with how I was feeling after his words still rung strong... that wouldn't help in keeping my attraction to a minimum. "I should be able to handle it."

He offered me his hand and helped me out slowly this time. He left for a minute and I was glad I was able to accomplish that myself, drying off and changing. I didn't feel that much better seeing that I was still hurting and sore like a bitch. But it was a small relief that I was very thankful for. He even helped rinse my mouth out until the taste of blood was mostly gone.

"How are things going?" I heard a new voice, just as we were about to leave the bathroom. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. I was holding Luke's arm for support and my fingers tightened without thinking. I glanced to Clare as she stood in the door, a sympathetic look aimed at me. "Are you feeling better, darling?"

I couldn't help my words. "I am now. I understand why the Jacuzzi was such a necessity for sex now. Nice way to make up for a shitty day if you ask me," I said, happy when I saw Clare's expression change, reveal the real thing. Hate and disgust rolled over her as she looked to me.

"Don't you ever say anything like that again!" she yelled at me, scowl on her face. "You're not funny, you're not all of a sudden a cool little badass kid. Grow up and respect me and Luke!"

My eyes widened. This was the first time she snapped like that, with that amount of disgust behind those words - and with him around. That was pretty bad to say to me in front of Luke. Especially when she is expected to understand that I have somewhat of a right to say that. And especially after what I went through today. But more importantly, it was a bad thing to say especially when Luke was the one to clean me up and not her.

"Clare..." Luke said in disgust. Looking up at him, his eyes said enough. He's been lost since the day I came home. And now, as my time here grows, so does the likelihood of a divorce. Luke wasn't happy anymore. He shouldn't have to try to be happy. If he had to try, what does that alone say?

She forced the facade back into place. But it was too late. "Luke, I was just--"

Luke guided me with slow steps out of the bathroom. "Not now, Clare," he growled. You could tell he wanted to really yell at her but he didn't. Leaving her standing there, he seemed to rush me a little until we were in my room. He shut the door behind him and helped me onto my bed. Climbing under my covers, I moved my pillow behind me and sat up against the headboard, looking to him. He stood there with gentle eyes on me.

"How do you feel?"

"Like a dinosaur sat on me and broke all my bones. Then took a shit on me."

His lips tilted up slightly and he chuckled under his breath. He had quickly changed when I was getting dressed and now, he was wearing one of his muscle shirts and khaki shorts. It was still daylight but I could tell neither of us wanted to leave my room, maybe him most of all. He didn't want to face her. It seemed as if he was pissed off at her even before what she said a few minutes ago.

He dug something out of his pocket and came to stand at the side of my bed so he could hand it to me. It was a little pill. "This might help with the bone breaking part."

"Hmm, deja-vu," I said, taking it.

He smiled and sighed. "Yeah. But this time, you're not handcuffed to your bed."

"Well, results are the same. I can't move." I took the pill in the next minute. Looking back up to him, I saw his eyes were sad again. "Is there anything else you need?" he asked.

I thought for a minute. "Besides the obvious that you have come to expect when asking that question, no I think I'm good," I joked.

He nodded but continued standing there. It was apparent he really didn't want to leave. He glanced back to the door, biting his lip. Sighing, he looked back to me. "Uh... are you sure?"

I chuckled. "You can stay in here."

He breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

I became aware of my wet hair dampening my shirt from where it rested against my back. It was a wet mess and I hadn't brushed it yet. Looking around my room, I saw the comb on my dresser. "Can you hand me my comb?"

"I'll do it," he said. "You felt pain when you reached behind your head as I was about to begin washing your hair. I don't want you feeling hurt any more."

Five minutes later, I was sitting cross-legged in the middle of my bed with Luke behind me, slowly combing out my hair. It was a strange day between the two of us. It was a little awkward too at how close we seemed to be. Naturally, before he started brushing my hair, I was about to make a few jokes that would go against the idea. But his words from a while ago came back to me. The ones still ringing within me and I wasn't sure what to make of them and why they triggered this feeling. He said that it was okay to be sad and that I should let him be. He also told me several days ago that he could see through my mask and me trying to show my tough side. There was no point in trying to hide and no reason. And I guess I was starting to listen, which is crazy because I don't usually listen well.

My eyes were closed, enjoying the feeling it brought as he combed my hair. Isn't it strange how when you comb your own hair, you don't really feel much? But if someone else combs your hair, it feels awesome. Sparks flew up from my roots and through my head, even down my back. I felt my lips tip up slightly at feeling his fingers collect all my hair together before running the comb through. The only sound that existed was our breath and the birds. A soft breeze ran over us from my opened window. It was getting dark. I always loved this time of day for some reason.

"Can you tell me what happened?" he asked quietly as he continued.

I sighed. I really didn't want to think about it let alone talk about it. I was able to shove it out of my mind this whole time so far. But I knew as a cop he wanted answers. "I was beat up."

He sighed, his fingers brushing over my ears. "But why?" he asked in a gentle voice.

"I stole from them before I left town a year ago. They found out I was home, they wanted to show me how much they missed me."

"How much did you take from them? And did you know them or was it just random?"

"I stole from several of my old friends. I would assume that I stole a couple thousand from them all together. So I kind of deserved what I got."

He was silent for a few minutes. He has been combing for a while now and worked out all the snarls and knots since my hair was bound to have them with how thick and wavy it was. But even after my hair was okay, he kept combing it in that pattern.

"Is there a reason you won't tell me their names?"

"Yeah." I paused, pursing my lips in thought. Should I tell him about what happened? Did it matter? It was in the past.

The soft breeze that swept through my room comforted me and I was able to go on, knowing I was safe. "Once a few years ago, one of my friends broke into my old boss' house. He was a very nice man. He didn't care about my reputation and liked me for how well I was in keeping his little store clean and helping him. He was nearing his 80s and I even offered to take care of him every now and then but he refused and said he was fine. He was just so nice. He was really my only friend that I trusted and liked for a little while. One day, this guy I hung around with robbed him and assaulted him. Just because they remembered me talking about him. He lived but barely. Anyway, I was so fucking pissed off, I went to the cops and told them who my friend was that did this. They arrested him but my other friends... they didn't like that I called the cops on him, not one bit. We were all friends I guess you could say so to them, it looked as if I betrayed all of them. They beat me up really bad; much worse than today. I know some even wanted to kill me but someone was smart enough to decide for the rest against it." I took a deep breath and realized his hand slowed to a stop when combing. "After that, they forgave me after a really long time. Nothing a beating can't solve I guess. But if I were to tell the cops again, and on more than one person... I don't want to think about what will happen to me."

"I won't let them touch you," he said. I looked behind me at his outraged expression. "That's.... How can you deal with that so calmly?" he asked, seeing my rather neutral expression.

I chuckled softly. "That's everyday life to me. But anyway, it's okay. They beat me and now it's over. I want to let it rest. Like you said, there's enough drama to deal with."

He sighed and went back to combing my hair in soothing strokes. "Is there anything else that happened or that they said?"

I wasn't going to tell him about the threat and how I needed to pay them back. For some reason, I wasn't too worried. Sure, they might beat me again but I have a memory and it is one that says they aren't going to do shit. They were all talk, a lot of the time in the past anyway. Plus, another beating would be worth them not getting what they want.

"No, I'm sure," I lied.

"Okay," he said. He stopped combing my hair, finally done. Yet, a moment later, his fingers slowly grazed my hair, as if hesitant to do so. Running the inside of his hand down my long strands, he paused before doing that again. Soon, he was playing with my hair and it felt ten times better than him combing it. "You keep saying friends. Like you were close with them before. Were you?"

"No not really. But they were the only people that didn't tease me or beat me up. Sure, they thought it was true that I was nuts. But they liked me for intimidation and because I'm a little aggressive. They weren't friends in how most people have friends. I just call them friends because what else should I call them?"

"Hm. I see," he whispered. "Did you have anybody you were close to? Anyone you could talk to?"

I thought about it, even though I knew I didn't need to. This was something I spent hours thinking about. Hours analyzing my past and trying to find something or someone I was close to. I wasn't ready to talk about Emily but at the same time, did she really count? She was so much younger and I loved her. But we never really got the chance to be close.

"No. I had nobody."

There was a silence for a moment. He played with the ends of my long hair and I knew it was mostly dry. "Do you have anybody now?" he asked quietly.

"What?" I asked, not understanding.

"Am I your friend?" he asked... straight out. It was quite shocking to hear. A very direct question most would be too embarrassed or shy to ask. But he wanted to know and probably wanted to see how I would respond.

Slowly, I looked behind me to him. His eyes rested on mine and they were blank for the most part. Just... a wondering and waiting look, as if it was such a common question. I bit my lip to hold back my smile. "Why do you want to know?"

"I'm curious to see if I excelled beyond your expectations. Also, I want to say, 'I told you so' since you were always so reluctant to get close to me." He smiled warmly at me.

"Hm...." I said, tapping my chin in very deep thought. "I don't know. Are you willing to brave a long journey downstairs into the kitchen for me if I'm starving?"

"So if I get you food, you will say it?"

"I asked if you would be willing to. Even with Clare as a possible obstacle?"

He smiled, his lips parting and showing my his beautiful straight teeth. He thought it over. "I guess I would be willing...."

"Would you let me have your cop car for a day? This is for the sake of our friendship."

"Ah, there. You admit it," he said, pointing an accusing finger at me. "You said friendship."

I shook my head in defense until I realized that wasn't the best idea with my neck. "No, I didn't admit it," I said, shifting my body to the side more to look at him easier. "I said friendship but that could mean a great one or a nonexistent one."

He shook his head, smiling. "I'm your friend. You like me and enjoy me around. So say it," he pushed, smiling brightly.

"I don't think I want to..." I said, turning all the way around so I was now sitting and facing him straight. I noticed his eyes moved over me, as if slightly mesmerized, which was strange.... Almost like he noticed something different about me. His eyes held mine the next second. "What do you think makes you such a good friend to me - despite the benefits with you helping me? And the sex," I said, joking.

He chuckled lightly. "Well, for starters, I am one hell of a cook. Which goes hand in hand with your favorite hobby of eating, right?"

"I guess. What else you got?"

"You and I really understand each other. You know how I think and I know how you think. We have a lot in common."

"That doesn't have to mean anything," I replied, smiling and pushing him to go on.

"Well, I know that for whatever reason, you are happy around me. You have life swelling within you every time you lay your eyes on me. You enjoy spending time with me and being with me."

Though we were just fooling around now, he was on target with all these but especially that last one. I was happy with him. I was smiling right now with him; that's simple proof. I didn't want him to see how this was affecting me and how deep that went. Deep; I know corny right? So I laughed and tried playing over it. "I think you are over thinking how great you are."

He smiled but looked at me with admiration. "You laugh and smile, you tell me the truth and know you can tell me your problems. Say it... Say, 'Luke, you are my best friend and I like hanging out with you. Because you are just so damn cool.'"

I cracked up, laughing at that one. "If you want me to tell you the truth, you need to do the same about something else," I proposed.

He nodded. "Okay, deal. So, Albany, am I your friend?"

Yes, it was slightly embarrassing or uncomfortable to say this but it was the truth. "Yes, you are my friend."

He smiled, victorious. "That's all I wanted to hear. And... I told you so."

I rolled my eyes. "But now you need to tell me something."

His eyebrows dipped and he sat up more. Just as his pretty and green eyes rested on mine. "Well then ask."

I said the first thing that snapped into my head. "Tell me your most embarrassing moment. Something that you would hate me knowing."

His smile dimmed and eyes dipped; he was playing as if he was overwhelmed with that one. "Well damn, that's not fair."