Hawaii 5-0: Not Your Fault

Chapter 1

His calloused fingers groped under my skirt and started tugging my underwear as the chemical smell of motor oil invaded my nostrils and made my stomach roll. His breath was hot and heavy in my ear and his unshaven jaw grazed and scratched at my smooth skin. My eyes clouded with tears and I let out a loud sob which I knew, the moment that it escaped my lips, that he wouldn't be happy with. He shushed me; the sound reverberated in my ear and made me shudder.

He let go of me and spun me around, backing me up against the kitchen counter until it pressed painfully into my lower back. By this point the tears had started to trickle down the apples of my cheeks and I sniffled loudly as he started to unbuckle his belt.

I snapped.

Months of torture and anger and hurt and hatred suddenly surged through my body in a moment of uncontrollable adrenalin. I had no idea where my strength was coming from, all that I knew was that he was falling backwards and time started to move only in slow motion. The crack which seemed to echo in my ears was almost deafening as his skull collided with the kitchen table at the same time as he let out a garbled grunt.

Then there was nothing. I dared not breathe as a chilling silence fell over the room as neither of us moved. I looked down at him, his eyes shut as a deathly calm fell over him as he lay crumpled on the floor; blood pooling beneath him. I knew that he was dead. The blood roared in my ears as my heart pounded in my chest; I felt dizzy and hot and chilled all at once.

I had killed him. I looked down at my hands and my fingers shook; I had killed him. He was dead.

I slide down the cabinets and sat there in a numbed state of shock; time passed me by, how much time I had no idea. Eventually I sobered. This was it. This was the climatic end which I had been waiting for ever since the first time he touched me and raised his hand to me and I'd given up on the will to fight back.

I clambered to my feet, shaking and scared and stepped warily over his body. I practically crawled on my hands and knees up the stairs to my room. There was shoe-box in my wardrobe stashed with money which I'd skimmed from my pay packet and tips from the diner and a duffel bag of clothes.

I don't stop for anything else; there was nothing else that I needed. I just needed to get out of there. I stop at the foot of the stairs and looked back down the hallway to the open kitchen door; I could see his body from there. Still in the same position that he fell in.

The guilt and the shame of what I'd done washed over me again and I choked back the fresh stream of tears which are threatening to escape; I hated him with all my heart. I hated him and the poison and fear which he inflicted on me every day. My fingers trembled as I turn the handle on the front door and backed out slowly, barely being able to pull my eyes away from Jim's lifeless body.

It's been 6-months since I killed Jim and not a day goes past when I don't think about what I did. Every morning when I wake for a few blissful seconds my mind is clear, and then the memory of his lifeless body comes rushing back to me along with the familiar feeling of nausea returning in the pit of my stomach.

Katie stifled a yawn and using the back of her hand pushed her overgrown bangs out of her eyes. The kitchen of Beth's Diner was beyond warm and it made her feel hot and sticky despite the fire door at the back having been propped open by a rickety 'Wet Floor' sign. She grabbed the two orders of chili prawn linguine from the counter and made her way out to the front and over to table nine. She set the plates in front of a middle aged couple she didn't recognise and smiled as brightly at them as her fatigue would allow. She guessed that they were tourists given, probably off of one of the gigantic cruise ships which seemed to dock daily.

She liked the island a lot; it was small enough that she could navigate her way around but big enough that she could get lost in the crowds. She tried to keep her head down and not attracted attention to herself but that appeared to be practically impossible in this place. Even the day that she arrived in town she managed to wind up with a job and an apartment after a 10 minute conversation with the guy who owned the bakery. Granted it had been a two-for-one deal, reduced wages waitressing at the diner in return for free lodgings; and what she missed out in for wages she more than made up for in tips. The locals were nothing if not generous it was the tourists which short changed you, and she liked working for Beth. She was a sweet woman in her mid-fifties who with a dry wit and took no nonsense from anyone; she was like the fun Aunt that Katie had never had.

She turned to walk away heading to the counter only to feel her foot tug awkwardly beneath her, she tumbled forward and put her arm out to brace her fall at the same time as her forehead made an altogether unwelcome connection with the corner of one of the tables. She pursed her lips to muffle the cry of pain that bubbled from within her chest.

"Katie," she heard Beth cry out followed by the sound of hurried footsteps and the scrapping of chairs over the linoleum floor. Strong hands wrapped themselves around her upper arms and she felt herself being tugged upright. She cradled a throbbing wrist in her lap whilst her other hand tentatively prodded at her head. She looked up as Beth knelt in front of her, the older woman's face twisted in concern. One of the other waitresses, Sophie, hovered over her shoulder.

"Are you okay, Katie? Did you hurt yourself?" Beth gently pulled her hand away from her forehead her lips parted slightly, "Sophie, fetch the first aid kit."

"No," Katie protested, but Sophie had already turned on her heel and was heading towards the door. "I'm fine, honestly. I'm just clumsy," she added. She twisted her legs under her and started to stand.

The hands around her arms tightened, "Wow, easy there," a voice grumbled in her ear.

It was only then that she realised someone was proper her up from behind, she jumped forward away from them and tried to swing around to see who was there.

"You're bleeding, Katie." Beth admonished. "For God sake, just sit still for a moment."

She reached up, her fingers grazing along the painful bump on her head and she felt the wetness of blood. "I'm fine," she protested again. She clambered ungracefully to her feet and shook off the strangers hands before edging around Beth and made her way quietly to the restroom. Her head ducked in embarrassment as she made her way passed a few tables of customers who all watched her in concern; her cheeks flushed scarlet.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror and winced. It was worse than she thought. The skin near her hairline had broken where she hit her head on the table and the blood was running down the curve of her face and seeping into the lapel of her uniform. She ripped a handful of paper towels from the dispenser and wet them under the cold tap and started to rub furiously at the stain on her shirt. That was how Beth found her a few minutes later.

"Katie, come on and I'll run you to the hospital." She announced jingling her car keys, then paused for second, "what are you doing?"

"I don't need the hospital. It's just a cut." She continued her scrubbing. The blood wasn't coming out.

A low gravely, intensely masculine voice came from behind Beth, "well if you don't mind we'll just consult for second opinion on that." Katie looked up from her shirt, her jaw practically dropped open when she caught sight of the owner of the voice. He was older than her, tall and handsome with eyes bluer than the Kaneohe Bay, his hair dark and cropped short with flecks of gray. He towered above her 5ft 3in frame, and with his hands on his hips he silently exuded authority. He made her nervous.

She flushed red under the stranger's intense gaze, his cool blue eyes fixed on her wound. She backed up against the sink and squeezed the sodden towel nervously in her palm. Beth moved in the doorway making way for him to enter.

"Perhaps you can talk some sense into her, Commander." She chirped as she unashamedly checked out his ass as he moved passed her.

He reached out, cupped her head gently in his warm hands and carefully tilted it so that he had a better view of the cut. He studied it for a moment while her heart pounded in her chest as he invaded her personal space. Commander? She thought. Katientually he spoke. "You're probably right, it's nothing life threatening but you should get it cleaned up and get a dressing on it."

"No," she responded hastily. Nervously.

"No?" he questioned, raising a perfect eyebrow at her and leant towards her as if not quite believing her.

"I mean," she stuttered. "It's okay. I'll put a bandage on it. I'm sure it'll be fine."

He furrowed his brow his look almost scolding. She looked away.

"She'll go." Beth told him.

She glared at Beth. "No, I won't"

The stranger sighed and pursed his lips, "Beth, can you fetch the first aid kit for me please?"

Beth slipped from the room without saying a word.

"I don't want to go," she whispered pleadingly. "It's just a cut."

He looked down her, his eye softening and his mouth tightened in a sympathetic smile which only added to her embarrassment, but also slightly annoyed her.

"I'll take care of it. If you don't let me at least do that then Beth will make sure that neither of us ever hears the end of it, and I have very delicate ears," he joked and tilted his head as if to show her.

Katie squinted at him, "you know what you're doing?"

The man looked at her in expiration, "it's either me or hospital." She shut her mouth and let out a breath, the defeat of the argument causing her shoulders to sag. He closed the lid of the toilet and tapped it with his hand.

"Sit, it won't take long. I promise. And to answer your question, yes I do know what I'm doing. I've patched up a few wounds in my time"

Ten minutes later Katie was sitting on top of the closed toilet as the Commander gently cleaned her wound with cotton wool. She winced as the antiseptic nipped at the abrasion.

"Sorry," he told her sheepishly.

She bit her lip.

"So, how long have you worked for Beth?" he asked trying to distract her.

"Just a few weeks."

"Yeah? You like it here?"

"mhmm"

His lips twitched in amusement before he became serious again. "Okay. I'm going to need to put on a couple of butterfly stitches, just to encourage the cut to heal."

Katie looked at him nervously. "Will they hurt?"

He shook his head and held up a narrow strip of white gauze. "That's all it is, Katie." Her name rolled from his tongue like syrup from a spoon. "It's sticky on one side and holds the skin together. It won't hurt."

"So no needle?" she clarified.

He smiled kindly, "no needle."

He worked quietly a serious look of concentration on his face. He eyed the wrist that she cradled protectively in her lap. "Is the gel pack helping?"

"I don't know," she told him truthfully. "All I can feel is the cold."

"Can you wiggle your fingers?"

She held up her hand and wiggled her fingers to demonstrate.

"You've just jarred it. Make sure you keep the gel pack on it for the next few hours to keep the swelling down and if there are any problems you really do need to go to the hospital."

"Okay," she said delicately.

Steve shook his head, fully aware that her response was nothing more than lip service to pacify him.

He sat back and looked appraisingly at his work. "I think that's you all stuck back together again." She let a small smile curl the edges of her rose tinted lips and he smiled widely at her and pulled off his latex gloves with a snap and tossed them in a yellow waste bin.

"I'm sorry that I ruined you breakfast," she told him softly, refusing to make eye contact with him.

"Not at all," he told her kindly, "we'd finished, we were just heading back to HQ."

Katie wrinkled her forehead, "HQ?"

The man looked at her in amusement, "how long have you lived in Hawaii?"

"A month."

"Ah. Well in that case, welcome to Hawaii. I'm Commander Steve McGarrett, head of Governors 5-0 task force."

Katie locked her jaw, "task force? You're police?"

Steve shrugged, "kinda."

Katie swallowed, she could practically hear the colour drain from her face as she realised that not only was she in the company of cop but in the company of some kind of uber cop. He held a position of authority and right now authority made her nervous. He looked straight at her gave her a tight smile as he realised something was off now that she knew who he was and what he did.

A gentle knock on the door interrupted the moment of awkwardness and another man's head poked around the corner of the doorframe. He was shorter than but just as muscular as Steve, his light brown hair combed back from his face revelling his cobalt eyes and a strong jaw.

"Hey, are you about done?" he called; his accent was definitely not local and came out in a Jersey twang. He caught sight of Katie and eyed the white gauze on her head, "Hello, Detective Danny Williams, what've you been up to? Did you head butt a rude tourist?" he asked teasingly.

She started to shake her head and opened her mouth to seriously start to refute the allegation when the doctor snorted.

"No. Not a tourist, just a table." Steve responded.

Danny grimaced, "but Dr Steve has apparently glued you together again so you're almost as good as new, right?"

"Almost." She stuttered uncertainly.

"So, what do you think Doc, is she going to make it?"

Steve pretended to look hurt, "of course she is. What, do you have no faith in my medical skills?"

Katie fiddled nervously with the ice pack in her lap albeit desperately trying to portray an ambience of calm for the benefit of the two men, two cops, as they bantered back and forth.

Danny looked at Steve with a serious expression on his face, "Your medical skills? I seem to recall an incident not so long ago when you used duct tape to patch my bullet wound."

"You're alive aren't you?"

Beth pushed her way past the detective and pointed at Katie in a no-nonsense manner. "You. Home. No arguments."

Danny nodded appraisingly, "I'm going to send Grace to live with you for a week, Beth, then she'll realise how easy going I am." He gave a small wave to Katie, "don't head butt anymore tables." He paused, "or tourists," and then he was gone.

Steve stopped on his way out and turned to face her he opened his mouth as if to say something then quickly shut it again, and then he too was gone.

Steve shut the door of Danny's silver Chevrolet and turned to see his partner grinning at him like a like a Cheshire cat. "She's adorable."

"Who?"

"Who?" Danny scoffed, "your rescued rabbit you idiot. Did you think I was talking about Beth?"

Steve and Danny watched as the door of the diner opened and the same little brunette made a hasty exit. She was gorgeous. Her chocolate brown hair was pulled back into a high ponytail from which several strands had worked their way lose and now framed her cherubic face. Rosy lips to match her cheeks and huge blue eyes framed with the longest lashes Steve had ever seen.

He shook his head but smiled back indulgently, "She's a little young, no?"

The detective shook his head dismissively, "look at me and Melissa; she's ten years younger than me. It's all good. Besides, I'm not saying that you have to marry her, I'm just saying that she's cute, and you're single and maybe you should," he paused searching for the right words, "get back on the horse."

Steve let out a belt of laughter, "get back on the horse. Some advise, never say that to Melissa."

"What, do you think I'm an idiot?" he drawled, "of course I'd never say anything like that in front of Melissa."

"I think there's something up with her," Steve voiced as he watched the brunette retreating in his wing mirror. Head down and shoulders hunched he couldn't help but wonder how long she'd been carrying the weight of world for.