Jade Hops

Abby tapped her fingers nervously on the steering wheel. She had tried to track Luka down all day and when she finally saw him, his demeanor was unusually cold and angry, although not as angry as he'd been the night before. Not angry like the night before. Even now, she could see the circle of blood widen with each bashing of the mugger's skull. How could Luka do that? He was never a violent man. Not from what she knew of him. He was gentle, sweet, very handsome. That side of him dissolved in contrast with his violent actions. He was a killer.
Still, Abby reasoned, the taste of blood did not make anyone evil. She disregarded what he had said to the detective and concentrated on what she knew in her gut. Luka had protected her in the most animal, most basic way he could. It was something which drove him.
She turned the corner and parked in the private parking lot. She made her way to Luka's suite. Abby knocked hesitantly. Luka answered the door and, seeing it was her, wordlessly allowed her in and retired to an armchair. He looked tired, wan and worn. Abby removed her coat. She could see he wanted to say something.
"You don't have to talk."
Abby rested herself on Luka's lap and kissed him.
Luka's lips met her kiss with a difference. It was not like the shy, awkward kisses she had dealt him before. This one seemed soothing, touching. He rested his hand on her cheek. He seemed grateful for her kiss; grateful for her.
Abby pulled Luka to her bosom and held him.
"Luka...I waited for you all day. I didn't know what happened to you."
Luka screwed his eyes shut as he strained to hear Abby's heart.
"I don't know what happened to me."
Abby held his face in her hands.
"Luka...."
She wanted to ask him, to fill some sort of curiosity welling in her. He simply pressed his fingers against her lips.
"I killed him with my bare hands..."
"You didn't mean to," Abby consoled.
Luka would not be comforted.
"I kept hitting his head against the ground, Abby. I couldn't make myself stop. I just had to do it."
Abby didn't want to hear it. She pressed her fingers to his lips but he moved them.
"I used to see blood whenever I shut by eyes. I see it all the time now and I can't stop it. Nothing will make it go away."
Abby touched his brow.
"We'll make it go away. We'll just..."
Luka's eyes burned her.
"You can't make it go away, Abby. Ever. It is there in your head."
He pressed his thumbs on her temples.
"Stop it, Luka!"
She brushed away his hands and rose from his lap.
"What are you going to do?" she asked. "Dwell on this? Why would you want to do that?! Luka, just stop thinking about it! You're in the clear! No one blames you....You didn't mean it..."
Luka's face became awash with disgust.
"You don't know what I meant."
Luka circled her.
"You've never seen people killed in front of your own eyes, have you?"
Abby swallowed hard. She knew he was referring to the old country and horrors she could not comprehend.
"No."
"I have, Abby," he said softly. "And it never goes away. It stays in your mind."
He touched her hairline and traced his fingers through her hair.
"It's one thing to see people killed. Then you can say to yourself: I am not like the murderer. My blood is not cold. My soul is not ugly."
His hands cradled her skull.
"But it also makes you want to kill and that makes your soul ugly. I held onto that man's skull and I bashed it in with all my anger. It is so ugly, Abby, you can't imagine."
Abby shut her eyes. She trembled in Luka's hands. She could no longer feel the firmness or the slackness of his hands, only their presence.
"How do I make my soul good again? Hhmmm?"
Abby opened her eyes.
"You've always had a good soul, Luka."
Luka did not believe her.
"Then why did I kill him?"
"To protect me?" she proffered.
Luka looked crushed.
"He is the murderer," Abby said. "He murdered you."
Abby became cool, definite in what she was about to say.
"I know you're not a murderer. I know it in my bones. I don't believe a man like you is capable of being cold-blooded."
Luka's face became pained, as though her faith him was too great.
Abby touched his cheek.
"You're a beautiful man, Luka Kovac. No matter what anyone says."
Abby stepped on her tiptoes and gently kissed Luka's cheek.
Abby kissed him again, this time on the lips. The kiss was different, not absolving but inviting. As her lips touched his, he returned her affection doubly, like a hunger eating away at him. His kiss was more powerful, swallowing her into something she should not back away from. She found her hands running through his dark hair. His hands supported her head, holding it firmly to his own.
Abby impulsively started to remove his sweater. His hands had already peeled away her shirt. She kissed the bare skin of his chest. Luka pulled Abby to the bed. Her hands explored the sculpted landscape of his torso. Her fingers brushed over circular scars that welled over on his shoulder blades. He flinched from her touch, as though the scars still burned. Abby recoiled slightly, seeing she had given painful offense. Luka did not react to her confusion but only continued removing the last traces of her clothes and easing off his.

3 AM.
The lights from outside shone on the two lovers, outlining their naked forms. Abby opened her eyes. From where her head lay, she could see the expanse of flawless olive flesh on Luka's chest. She looked up at his shoulder. A scar, an ugly circle welling up pinkish white on his shoulder, caused, no doubt, by a cigarette, marred his skin. She moved her fingers carefully towards that spot on him. The pads of her fingers touched it. Luka's eyes immediately shot open.
"Don't touch me there."
Abby withdrew her fingers.
"What happened to you?"
Luka swallowed an obstruction. He hesitated before telling her.
"Someone hurt me."
"Is that why you...?"
Luka steeled his jaw.
"I don't want to talk about it."
He rolled over and tried to return to sleep.

Oh, listen, sister. I love my Mr. Man and I can't tell you why. There ain't no reason why I should love that man. It must be something that the angels did plan...
Abby woke up to the strains of Ella playing on a radio a few doors down. She smiled broadly, the first time in the longest while she had done so. She was so satisfied with her new lover. Could she call him that? Did she not enjoy his body, console him, lose herself entirely in him? Of course she did. She was amazed by him. She felt his pain, felt his tears, felt his body, over and over, all in bouts cathartic and rhythmic. She exhaled deeply when she thought about it.
"Oh, Luka..." she moaned. "You are the goddamn, motherfucking man, I swear..."
Abby reached for Luka. He was not there.
"Luka?!"
Abby looked around. Gone, goddammit, she thought. Men always leave. She threw herself back on the pillows.
"Son-of-a-bitch!" she muttered.
Her hand brushed against a paper on Luka's pillow. He had left a note. It read:
I've gone out to get breakfast. I will be back soon. I promise.
Abby smiled and held the note to her chest. He wasn't the kind to leave after all. He'll be back in a few minutes, she told herself and smiled.
The smile left her face. What would she say to him? Would she tell him he was a good lover, ignoring her initial purpose for being here? Had that purpose been blunted by their love- making? What if all Luka wanted was sex? No. Or could he? Why couldn't Luka just want sex? He was a man, wasn't he? But he was no ordinary man. There are no extraordinary men, her grandmother had once said, just men who do extraordinary things. No, Grandma, Abby thought herself saying. You're wrong. I fucked one and believe me...
No, You never say that to your grandmother.
But what would she say to Luka?
"Good morning."
Abby shot up, startled by Luka's sudden arrival. He came bearing breakfast. Croissants? Bagels, possibly. Her mouth salivated at the thought of ham and cheese croissants.
"Mmmmm....food..."
Abby reached for bag. It was croissants. Luka was happy to give them to her. She bit into one impulsively. Luka watched her. Immediately, Abby felt foolish. She had not even said good morning to him and here she was stuffing her face like a pig. Luka had a sort of goofy smile on his face. Was he smiling at her because of her eating or something else?
"Oh...oh...Luka..."
Luka shook his head.
"No, eat. You are hungry."
Luka removed his coat and sat on the bed. Abby looked at him and placed a croissant in her mouth.
"You know, you should eat. You never eat and I think that's why you're such a stick."
Luka blushed at this.
"I have ways of making myself thin."
Abby didn't have to think about it. If anything last night was Luka's exercise regimen then... damn!
"Here."
She offered him a croissant and he gratefully accepted.
Silence. Luka said nothing. Maybe he didn't know what to say. Abby certainly didn't. There were things she wanted to ask. She looked at his chest as it heaved with breath.
"Luka, where is home for you?"
Luka looked at her and finished the last bite of his croissant.
"I was born in Šibenik. It's on the coast of Croatia. My father is from there and his father. My mother was born in Dubrovnik, further south but also along the coast. She grew up in Zagreb where her father taught."
"He was a school teacher?"
"No, he was a university professor."
Abby smiled.
"Wow. It must have been so interesting to have such a smart guy in the family."
Luka shook his head.
"I never knew him." He took another croissant. "My mother was a school teacher, though. She taught at a school not far from where my brother and I went to school. They had rules about family being so close."
Abby shifted closer to Luka.
"She probably would have let you get away with all kinds of trouble."
Luka smiled.
"Never."
Abby laughed. Luka must have gotten into some serious trouble as a kid.
"And your dad? What's he like?"
Luka thought for a second.
"I look up to him."
Abby's expression softened.
"No, I really look up to him," Luka repeated. "He's taller than I am."
Abby laughed and so did Luka. He settled his laughter.
"I love my father. I really do."
Abby stopped laughing. She could see in his face that he meant it.
"Yeah, well...My dad walked out on us so I don't look up to him in any way."
Luka stopped eating. He was very quiet, maybe dismayed at her loss. Abby got out of bed and went to the bathroom, leaving Luka chagrined.

Abby washed and prepared herself for the day. Luka was good enough to lend her an extra toothbrush and some towels. She brushed her hair, carefully rolling it under. In a few minutes, she would leave and wonder if she should come back. Her making love to him felt good, but in some way did not satisfy everything. She hardly knew him yet was going to bed with him. She hadn't planned it that way but she was sure he didn't plan it that way, either. She wondered if she should come back after her shift.
She thought she should. She found that Luka was funny, sweet and had a family in a foreign country she never thought of going to. It was all interesting on a polite level. Maybe she should come back. Then she could ask what she really meant to ask.
Abby left the bathroom. Luka leaned against the wall, his arms crossed.
"Not working today?" she inquired.
Luka shook his head.
"Kerry has let me off."
Abby understood. Yesterday and the day before stalked them like violent spectres. Kerry was being generous.
"I guess you go back tomorrow."
Luka nodded.
"Maybe you should go for a walk or something," Abby suggested.
Luka shook his head nervously.
"No...No, I don't want to go anywhere. Just...stay inside...."
Abby nodded. Maybe he needed to think some things through. Abby turned to leave but Luka caught her arm.
"Please come back."
She looked into his hazel eyes, so cool and desperate. She would have to come back.
"Yes."

Abby finished her shift, a day of impermanent faces and ills. She arrived at Luka's suite. He opened the door. He led her into his suite by her hand. He had been waiting for her.
Luka lifted Abby from the floor and carried her to the bed. He placed her down carefully and lay on top of her, balancing his weight so as not to smother her. Still, his lankiness covered her diminutive frame disproportionately. But Abby did not care. She was pinned under Luka's weight. His hands gripped her wrists tightly. But why would she protest? She felt safe and warm with him. The world of the senses precluded everything else now. His weight, his skin, his lips on her neck, everything about him. He was like one big sensation.
Abby wrapped her legs around him and returned his kiss, her tongue sliding in his mouth, him sliding into her. She threw her head back in a spasm of desire. He responded to every twitch, every orgasm, every kiss, every jolt. They moved as one.

Luka shot up screaming.
"Ne! Ne ostetite mi!"
Abby shot up as well, letting the bed sheets fall.
"Luka, what is it?!"
Luka trembled. His face was pale and frightened.
"He's hurting me...he's hurting me..." he breathed fearfully.
Abby did not understand. She held his face.
"There's no one here but us." She pulled his head to her shoulder and stroked his hair. "It was all a dream."

When Abby woke up she felt the weight of Luka's head on her bosom, like baby. Whether it was their bout of love-making or his nightmare or even some kind of primeval need to hear a heartbeat, like a baby would before he is born, she couldn't say but it was comforting. She was comforting him and it felt good. He needed her, not in some clingy way but in a gentle, intermittent way. Even Luka the brave needed a shoulder once in a while. Or a bosom, for that matter. Abby stroked his hair and returned to sleep.

When Abby woke up again, Luka's head displaced from her bosom to a pillow. He shifted as sleep would dictate and she was free to move. She got up and began to dress. She came back, as she said she would. So this was it. She tiptoed out of his suite and left. She got as far as the front door.
"Dammit!" she muttered.
Luka, for whatever he was, would never leave her. And, as much as he would never admit it, he needed her. Last night was proof of that. She reached into her purse and pulled out a piece of paper from her day planner and a pen.
Dear Luka,
I had to go somewhere. I'll be back. I promise.
She slid the note under his door and went out again. She would get the porter or somebody to open the door for her if Luka was not up.
She would be back soon.

The midday sun gleamed over the frost and Luka was still asleep. He was a baby.
Abby woke Luka up.
"Hi," she said sweetly.
Luka yawned and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He looked like a child who had just woken up from a nap.
"Did you just wake up?"
Abby shook her head.
"No, I had to go somewhere."
Luka looked hurt, pouting like a child left alone. Abby touched the corner of his face in consolation.
"But I came back."
Abby pulled a dark blue sweater out of a boutique bag.
"I bought this for you," she smiled. She laid it against his bare skin. "I hope it fits."
Luka was touched.
"You did this for me?"
Abby grinned.
"You look so good in sweaters."
Luka smiled and touched the sleeve of the sweater.
"Thank you."
Abby pulled another sweater out of the bag.
"I got one for me and..."
Her eyes rolled in self-consciousness.
"This was on sale."
Abby showed Luka a tiny sweater, one which would fit a few months old child. He did not know what to make of it.
"See? Isn't this sweet?" She pointed to the designs on it. "This is a little lamb and this happy fellow right here is the sun. See?"
Luka laughed. His face became paternal. Abby then wanted to take the sweater back, ashamed she might be jumping ahead.
"I just bought it..."
Luka rested his hand on her face.
"No, it's all right. I like it. It's, um..." His face scoured in confusion. "What is the word? Um...? Like, for little babies..."
"Cute," Abby supplied.
Luka nodded.
"Yes! That's it! Cute."
Abby folded the little sweater.
"Babies are cute."
Luka nodded.
"Yes they are cute."
Silence.
In the corner of her eye, Abby could see the cute, little children Luka wanted to have with her. She plunged headfirst into the pool before she realized she couldn't swim in it.
"We should...probably get going," she stammered. "You know Weaver. She'll have our heads."
Luka nodded. No more talk of sweaters, big or small, and perhaps no more talk of coming back tonight. No talk.
"Yes," he agreed and got out of bed.

Luka was ready. It didn't take long for him. He was a man of no great means and greater resilience.
"Ready?"
Luka looked blankly on Abby.
"Yeah."
He put his coat on.
"Maybe we can get croissants," Abby quickly suggested, forcing a smile.
Luka agreed. He was starving.
"I have to get a file I left in the desk," he remembered and dashed to it.
Abby looked around patiently, tapping her foot.
"You know, Luka, you should get an apartment. Really."
Luka would take her suggestion under advisement.
A knock on the door meant that the mail had arrived. Abby cautiously opened the door and took a bundle of letters from the porter. She placed them haphazardly on the lamp stand. One envelope in particular stood out. Its texture was different from the standard legal sized or manila envelopes that normally came in the mail. Abby picked up the envelope. It was a rough paper with flecks dark green grains running through it. It smelled of rosemary. The letters on it appeared to be Russian.
Luka grabbed the envelope from her.
"Hey!" Abby cried in surprise.
"Hey, you!" Luka scolded.
Abby tried not to show she had been chided.
"I didn't know you knew Russian."
Luka remained coy.
"I guess that's because Russia took over everybody," Abby surmised.
"Not us," Luka corrected her and went out the door.