The Killing Ground

“I’m sure he isn’t the only one that has fallen for the tough as nail's Detective.”

Rebecca met her eyes and looked for a sign that this time, she was teasing her. She found none. Realization dawned on her, and she mentally chided herself for the feelings she was starting to reciprocate. This was suddenly becoming very complicated, and Rebecca didn’t do complicated.

Jordan sensed her discomfort and changed the subject quickly. She felt a rush of warmth in that few seconds when Rebecca let her guard down. Somewhere hidden behind the mask of cool indifference, she sensed a mutual attraction and cursed the inability to pursue it. “So, tell me what got you into this business?”

Rebecca’s husky laugh filled the air. “My dad actually.”

“Really? One of those my dad did it, so I’ve got to follow in his footsteps things?”

“Actually, no.” Rebecca shoved off the bridge. “Come on, let’s walk. If you’re going to force me to stand out in the cold, I need to keep moving.”

Jordan fell into step alongside her. She took the opportunity to study Rebecca. When she looked closely, she saw light freckles splashed across her face, barely visible against her creamy skin. She was just as beautiful in profile as she was head on, despite the fact that Jordan couldn’t see her green eyes, eyes that were quickly becoming hard to look into without getting lost. She stumbled over the uneven pavement and caught herself with a sheepish grin.

“Watch that first step. It’s a doozie.” They said it in unison and broke out in uncontained laughter. “Groundhog Day!”

Somewhere in between Jordan’s misstep and laughing over their memories of the movie, Rebecca made the mistake of looking into Jordan’s eyes. She felt herself being pulled into them, and rather than back away, she felt herself narrowing the distance. The warmth emanating from Jordan’s body enveloped her and made her blood rush wildly in her veins. Her stomach fluttered pleasantly, and it wasn’t until she felt the cold hit her moistened lips, that she remembered where she was, and she backed away shyly.

She heard her ragged breathing and could tell from Jordan’s sudden silence, that she had affected her as much as Jordan had affected her. “I…I…where was I?”

Jordan stepped closer and brushed a red strand behind her ear with such gentleness that Rebecca thought her knees might fail her. The naked hunger staring back at her unnerved her even further, until she had no choice but to run for safety.

When Jordan finally caught up to her and put a hand on her arm to stop her, she shook it off with more force than she meant to. “Everything okay?”

“Yes.” Rebecca forced herself to nod affirmatively. “I just needed to warm up.” She knew that was a lie. If anything, she needed to cool off. She mentally willed her heartbeat to slow down.

“We can go back to the car.” Jordan offered softly. Right now, if Rebecca had said she wanted to go to the moon, Jordan would have built her a spaceship to get there.

Rebecca shook her head. “No, let’s just walk.” She wasn’t ready for the intimacy being alone in the car would give them. “So, what were we talking about?”

“You were telling me about your dad and how you decided to be a Detective.”

“Oh yeah.” Rebecca ran a tube of Chapstick over her lips, a move that almost pushed Jordan over the edge. If she knew the effect she was having on Jordan, she showed no sign of it. “Pop was a truck driver, but there was always something about law enforcement that intrigued him. He had watched every detective show that was ever on TV. I remember sitting on the couch watching Cagney and Lacey or Magnum P.I., or whichever of the dozen shows that he lived by. He went on and on about how he had always wanted to be a cop, but just sort of fell into driving. I think he just talked about it so much when I was growing up, that it was the only thing I saw myself doing. They made it look a lot sexier on TV.”

“I don’t know, you make it look pretty sexy.”

Rebecca met Jordan’s eyes, and she saw the sparkle of laughter in them. She knew that, at least for now, even if she meant it, Jordan was taking mercy on her fragile soul by throwing some humor in the situation.

“You wear the gun pretty well.”

“Thanks.” Rebecca smiled, and her whole face lit up. “The funny thing is, I found out I was pretty damn good at it, and it makes the old man proud.”

“I can’t see how he couldn’t be proud of you.” Jordan’s voice was so genuine that Rebecca knew she had finally found someone that believed she could actually be great at her job, despite the fact that she was a woman.

“Thanks.” Rebecca felt herself blush and hoped Jordan didn't see it. She needn’t worry, her cheeks were already pink from the cold. “So, what about you?”

“Well, my dad wasn’t a cop, either.” Jordan’s voice was hard and sardonic. Rebecca could tell that there was no lost love between Jordan and her father. “As a matter of fact, I’m not really sure what the bastard was.”

“What happened to him?”

“He left when I was just a kid. Mom didn’t talk much about him, and when she did, it was only to curse the mess he left her with.”

“Oh.” Rebecca couldn’t imagine a life without her father and hearing Jordan’s admission made her heart break. She tried to lighten the mood. “So, which one did you have a crush on, Cagney or Lacey?”

Jordan laughed heartily. “Probably both. Actually, it was kind of by accident that I ended up where I am. When my sperm donor left, Mom had it pretty rough. She worked all the time trying to support us. I was your typical latch key kid. I spent most days after school and in the summer with no contact except the kids on the street. I was pretty messed up, by the time I hit sixteen.”

“Wow.” Rebecca watched the proverbial layers fall away, and she learned more and more about the strength of the woman beside her. “Troublemaker, huh?” She said with a mischievous smile.

“Pretty much.” Jordan shrugged.

“So, what saved you from a life on the other side of the law?”

“Woz. Tony Wozniak.” Jordan added quickly, as if supplying a full name would make him any more recognizable to Rebecca. “I was already into some pretty bad shit. We stole stuff, lifted cars, you name it. Life on the streets was pretty rough. I was this close to messing up for real when I walked past this gym. I saw a sign for boxing lessons. I figured I might as well sign up. That would give me a way to defend myself that wasn’t a gun or a knife. Woz took me under his wing, and I’ve been following him ever since.”

“Sounds like a good guy.”

Jordan nodded. “He is. Kind of the father I never had. Woz is retired FBI, and I was lucky enough to mentor with him before he left. I learned everything I know from him.”

“You probably knew a lot already, and some of it can’t be learned. You just have it.” Rebecca knew from her own job as a Detective that you could learn to investigate, shoot, all the tangible lessons, but the intangible ones, the visceral side of being a cop, you couldn’t learn. The sixth sense, following a gut feeling, knowing what leads to follow, when to shoot, that was something a person was born with. You either had it or you didn’t. She was pretty certain she had it, maybe not as sure of herself as Jordan was, but she was no slouch.

“Yeah, I’m sure some of it I picked up on the street, but a great deal of it I owe to Woz. You know you can learn a lot from boxing.” Jordan’s voice was suddenly serious, and her features became schooled with the look of someone about to divulge the secret to all life’s questions. She was certain boxing had taught her enough to keep her alive.

“How so?” Rebecca asked, interested to see how Jordan would relate boxing to life, or the job.

“Reading people, their tells. You learn to see what side is someone’s weak side. What punches they are going to throw. If they drop their chin or their shoulder a certain way. How they plant their feet. Where they hold their gloves. It’s a game just like this whole thing is. It’s all about seeing the signs. Woz taught me that.”

“He may have helped you strengthen what you already had, but I still say, some things you can’t teach, and that is one of them.” Rebecca studied Jordan’s face. She saw a hint of self-deprecation in her eyes and knew that years of knowing she had been abandoned had taken their toll. “You can’t just admit you are that good, can you?”

“Oh, I can admit I’m that good.” Jordan’s face broke into a smile. She couldn’t take talking about her childhood and growing up too long. If she did, the anger and betrayal of being left would come flooding back and hit her square in the stomach with a sickening punch.