"You really mean that?" I asked in disbelief. Did I hear right?
"Yes," he replied.
I wrapped my arms around him, and held him close. "I feel the same way."
He grinned, and kissed me. His hands started to roam around my back, and all the while I groped his chest. A soothing heat rushed through my body, while my mind and heart raced. Whatever he was doing to me was inexplicably sublime.
It wasn't long before we were both completely undressed. For a short moment we gazed at the contours and lines of our bare bodies, and my breath was taken away as my eyes glossed over his muscular arms and chest. He looked as if he were carved from stone — he was perfect.
I wrapped my arms around him and so did he to me, and at a patient pace he caressed my neck with his lips and glided his hands over the skin of my back. His touch shook me to my core, and made me realize how much I had really wanted this.
"I haven't done this in a while," he whispered against my ear while holding me in the cage of his arms.
"I don't care about that," I replied. I leaned up and kissed him. Taking his hand in mines, we walked to the bed.
Having him so near with the weight of his body over mines felt right — I wouldn't trade this moment for anything else. Slowly and ever so delicately, he stroked and lightly pecked the recesses of my body as if he were more concerned about pleasing me than himself. My hands found their way to his slick, dark hair and ran through it.
Then, he clasped my hand tightly in his and intently gazed into my eyes as if seeking permission. I responded by pulling his body closer to mines and kissing him with all my might.
Nothing was forced or rushed: he was tender and overly considerate. There was a profound correlation between us as if we were two halves of the same pair, and it dawned on me that this was meant to be. All the experiences of our lives led to our paths crossing each other in some strange twist of fate. And though I didn't know what the future held for us, I knew with certainty that there was no going back.
Something was softly touching my cheek, and when I opened my eyes I found David hovering over me. "Morning," he murmured before kissing me.
He looked achingly attractive with his disarrayed hair as strands got loose and fell down his face. "Good morning," I answered with a grin. I reached my hand up to his disheveled hair and finger-combed back. "How long have you been watching me?"
"Only a few minutes. You smile when you sleep," he said with wonder in his eyes.
Oh, I could think of a perfectly good reason for that, I thought with a smug grin. As the early morning sun started to brighten the room, I could better distinguish his numerous tattoos. He had more plastered on his chest, and all of them were symbols that were new to me. The one on his left foreman seemed to match the same marking that was on his ring.
Once more my curiosity got the best of me. "David, what does that on your ring mean?" I asked as I took hold of his hand and examined the image of what looked like a compass with a G in the middle.
He snickered and took in an audible breath. "I thought everyone knew what that stood for." He paused, and I shrugged my shoulders in response. "This is a Freemason ring," he continued. "It's the Square and Compasses which is their symbol, and the G stands for God."
"You're telling me that you're a Freemason?" I asked with a how-can-that-be-possible look.
He smiled widely and got red in the face. "Yeah."
I twisted my lips in a tight line as I became utterly dumbfounded. That was a big surprise. "Since when?"
"Since I got into the police force. I'm not allowed to talk about it. I hope you can understand," he said matter of factly.
"Hmm," I uttered while contemplating that blindsiding notion. David never ceased to amaze me.
"You don't have anything against that, do you?"
I nodded my head no. "I don't know enough about it to have anything against it. Only that they're very secretive, which I think is sort of funny. I just didn't expect it, that's all."
"Why do you find it funny?" The curiosity in his eyes were plain to see.
"It's the irony of it. In this day and age, nothing is secret anymore. Everything is on the internet. I mean, you're on Facebook, right? Then anyone can find you, not that I've checked," I stated.
With a scoff, he said in a tone that implied annoyance, "I'm not on Facebook, or any other social network. I don't have time to screw around like that."
That actually made absolute sense. "It's Saturday," I started in an effort to change the subject. "Do you have to work today?"
"I'm not scheduled to come in, but if something comes up, then I'll have to go," he replied with a rather doleful expression.
The thought that I had him all to myself for a whole day excited me. "Ooh, we should go out."
He chuckled at the idea. "There's not much to do around here, unfortunately."
I recalled a conversation we had about two weeks earlier where I asked him to take me to his place, and he adamantly said no. The errant thought that I could try asking again crossed my mind. The timing seemed right anyway. "Well, we could always go to your place for a start. I haven't been there yet."
He giggled and said, "You're not giving up, are you? There's not much to see really."
"And your point is?" I said with some of my big-city-girl attitude.
He double blinked a few times, and fell into deep thought. "Fine. I'll take you there if that's what you really want."
Finally. Where he lived and especially how was something I wondered about constantly.
"So, let's eat something first and then go to your place afterwards. I'm famished."
"Sounds like a good plan to me."
His apartment was small, probably not more than 700 square feet. It's cramped size wasn't what stunned me, it was the immaculate cleanliness and organization all throughout. Not even I was that organized. There also weren't many pieces of furniture, one small TV, and absolutely no decorative items, not even one picture.
"Told you it wasn't much," he lowly said with that trademark double blink.
I continued to walk about, taking in every nook and cranny. His bed was flawlessly made, with a simple blanket and two pillows. I could see that the closet door was open, and in it his clothes were grouped in like colors which were few: only blue, black and grey like I had figured. Shirts went with shirts, pants with pants and so on. It was cruel to think it, but I had a small suspicion that maybe he was OCD. But what did I know and who was I to judge? Either way it didn't make a difference to me.
"It's quaint," I said.
He didn't utter a word for a minute or two, and all the time I wondered what was going on in his mind. "I really only come here to sleep. This case has me working at all hours." He shook his head with displease.
"I heard on the news the other day that there was a possible new suspect. I saw the sketch," I replied as we went to sit on the only couch he owned.
"Yeah, I noticed him at the vigil for one of the girls. He ran away from me as soon as I started to approach him."
Astonished that he was actually talking about the case, I pressed on: "Do you at least have an idea of who he is?"
"Not yet. I mean, we've aired that portrait of him on TV, but that's it. Hopefully someone out there will recognize him and soon," he said looking slightly defeated.
"You'll find him. You always do," I said putting my hand over his. He sat still and didn't say anything. I suppose he wasn't that good at taking compliments.
"On top of that, one of the fathers doesn't think I'm doing a good job. He's always on my case. It's just one more thing to worry about."
"Well, you can't be everywhere at once. You're giving it your best."
"Yeah, but I wonder if it's enough," David answered with a frustrated expression. He started to rub his eyes, something else I had noticed he did when something was bothering him.
"Just keep doing what you do, and everything will work out in the end."
Fortunately, after I said that, he eventually loosened up. "So, did you have any specific plans for today?"
"I do need to go shopping for clothes badly, but that can wait. I just want to spend the day with you."
He withdrew into himself again and appeared to be in deep thought. If only I could read his mind. "There's the Value Mall. That's pretty much the only decent place here to get clothes. Or you can go to the town next door."
"I'd rather not do that all that driving. That's too far away."
"Then you'll have to settle for the Value Mall," he said as he ran his fingers through his hair. "I should've asked: do you want something to drink? There's not much. I know we already had some but maybe coffee?"
"Sure, I'm still pretty tired anyway." The previous night was long, I mischievously thought to myself as I reminisced over what happened between David and I. I must have been grinning like the Cheshire Cat.
He walked over to the small kitchenette. It was so tiny that it would be crowded with just two people in it. A few minutes must have passed by when his phone suddenly started to ring. "Detective Loki," he answered. He turned to me and when our eyes locked he retreated out of my sight behind a portion of wall that stood between where I was and the kitchenette. "When did this happen? …Okay … okay … I'll be there in a few minutes … Fuck."
He came out from behind the wall and approached me. "I'm so sorry, but I just got called from the department. I got to go."
"Well, that's a shame," I said feeling let down. Just when I thought I could spend a whole day with him, this had to happen. There's always something.
"I'm off tomorrow," he said.
"It's fine. Whenever you can." In a matter of minutes we were back at my house. "See you," I said as I opened the car door.
"Aren't you forgetting something?"
I turned around, and leaned over to kiss him. "Bye."
"Maybe I could stop by tonight?"
I nodded yes. Why did I feel like crying? I stayed to watch him leave until he was no longer in sight. Feeling entirely too crushed, I slowly walked back to the house. Ron was laying on the porch floor, and didn't even acknowledge my presence. "Cats," I said shaking my head.
The empty house made me even more depressed. I wasn't capable of spending the entire day alone; I was too out of sorts. So, I grabbed my car keys and headed over to that Value Mall place to do some serious shopping.
I parked my car, and had made it halfway to the store's entrance when I passed by a young, gangly man who was placing stuffed shopping bags onto the back seats of his car. Then, he walked over and popped open the trunk, where inside of it there was a rectangular-shaped black lock box. The entire scene was all too strange and had me deeply curious.
I slowed my walking pace to better observe what he was doing. At last he stood up, and I was better able to get a good look at his face. In that instant I felt a sickening despair overcome me as something registered in my mind. That face …
That face was the same one as the criminal sketch of the new suspect in David's case.
*I don't own the character Detective Loki.*
Copyright © 2014 by the owner of
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
