Behind Closed Doors. Tara Quinn Taylor
dawned on the young man’s face. He saw the light of peace once again enter Tony’s eyes. “I’d lose sight of what matters most,” he said slowly, meeting Bobby’s gaze with the open intelligence that had first drawn Bobby to him.
“Right.”
“Obsession with her might lead me to make wrong choices.”
“Correct.”
Tony was silent for a while. Sitting back, Bobby was content to let the young man’s mind wander. Tony’s meanderings often led to thought-provoking conversations that energized Bobby.
“Did you ever feel that way about Amanda?”
Bobby’s eagerness diminished, especially in light of the call he’d had from Tucson earlier that day, which had given him hope, then dashed it almost immediately. But because this was Tony and Bobby understood that their friendship was rare and true, he answered.
“Briefly. When I first met her, I couldn’t get her out of my head.” He chose his words carefully. “But unlike you, I’d been with other women before. And I was older.”
Frowning, Tony asked, “And then you just told yourself to stop feeling like that and it ended?”
Bobby held back a laugh. Tony had been a picked-on geek in high school and was particularly sensitive to being a target for humor—even well-meant shared humor.
“Of course not,” Bobby admitted. “But I knew I had to control my emotions or they’d control me. Whenever I’d get them at inappropriate times, I’d immediately start thinking about something else. At first I had a topic I went to whenever it happened.”
“The cause.”
“Yes.
“And later, I could simply think about anything outside myself and the obsession with Amanda would stop. Don’t misunderstand,” Bobby added, “the feelings never lessened. I adore her as much today as I ever did. I just learned to control the amount I thought about her.”
Tony shook his head. “I’m not nearly at that level.”
“Then count colors.”
“What does that mean?”
“Wherever you are, pick a color and start counting how many times, on how many different things, you see it in your everyday surroundings. That’ll take your mind off whatever you’re obsessing about and give it back to you.”
Tony’s expression lightened. “I can do that.”
“Of course you can.” Bobby almost stopped right there. But this was Tony, and his goal was to be completely honest with the man he trusted like no other.
“One other thing,” he said slowly. “When you’re with her and the time is right and proper for that kind of communication, choose to give yourself up to the feelings. Only in those sacred moments can you allow them to control you. You’ll find that as long as you give them rein sometimes, it’s much easier to turn your back on sexual urges at other times.”
“You’ve really got a gift, you know?” Tony said after several seconds had passed.
Bobby nodded.
“Thank you.”
“Anytime,” Bobby said, meaning it. “To you my door is always open, my phone is never off.”
Tony’s heartfelt nod met an answering emotion in Bobby. Having someone in his life he could say that to almost made up for the pain of having lost Amanda.
Tony glanced over at him, his head half bowed. “That woman we were talking to last night, the one asking about Moss’s campaign, kept looking at you.”
Bobby didn’t even feign interest. “Forget it, Tony.”
“Why? You—”
“I said forget it,” Bobby interrupted, something he rarely did to Tony. “I’ve made the decision to remain celibate for the rest of my life. It’s my tribute to Amanda.”
Tony paled. “The rest of your life?”
“Yes.”
“You really think you can do it?”
“I know I can.”
“You loved her that much.”
“Yes.”
Shaking his head, Tony said, “I’ve never known anyone as strong as you are.”
“Yes, you have.” Bobby’s reply was immediate and filled with conviction. “You’re sitting inside his skin right now.”
“I know this is going to sound pie-in-the-sky, but I honestly do not believe you need to have any immediate fears.” Detective Boyd’s voice had lowered, thickened with emotion as he took Laura’s hand at the door.
He was so convincing, so sincere, she almost believed him. Except that she couldn’t seem to get past the solid black wall in her mind.
Harry’s hand on her back was nice, comforting, but it couldn’t scale the blockade, either.
“I’ve been working these cases for five years and I was on the streets for fifteen years before that. In my experience, victims who don’t know their attackers are rarely, if ever, attacked a second time. I follow the statistics, and while the percentages aren’t entirely accurate because of the number of non-reported cases, I can tell you that the danger of repeat rapes on the same victim generally occurs only in instances of spousal abuse, acquaintance rape and date rape.”
Laura nodded, wishing he’d just keep on talking, filling her mind with his experience and reassurance.
Talking was good. She didn’t have to think if she could concentrate on his words—
“What a minute.” Stricken, she stared up at the detective, squeezing his fingers. “I just remembered something.”
Boyd’s gaze changed from compassionate to focused as he bent toward her. “What’s that?”
“When the…second one…you know…” She knew the word orgasm, but she couldn’t make herself say it. Not in the context of rape. Her rape. “Just now, when you were talking about how they probably won’t come back, I had a flash of them here and it was like Harry said. There…at the…end, he did whisper. Why wouldn’t I remember that and then suddenly have it come to me?”
“It happens that way,” Boyd said. His touch on her fingers felt like her hold on reality. Harry’s hand rubbing her back kept her upright. “Memories filter down slowly, when you’re ready for them.”
She frowned, closing her eyes as she struggled to forget and remember accurately at the same time.
“What did he say?” Boyd’s intensity wasn’t lost on her.
“White stays with white, just like Harry said. And maybe another word, too. I didn’t get it. Baby?” Harry’s hand froze on her back. Laura opened her eyes as her voice broke, hating her weakness. “I’m sorry I can’t remember exactly.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Detective Boyd said. “It’ll probably come to you later.”
His understanding felt a lot like approval. It helped so much.
She held on to his hand, not wanting him to go. And at the same time wishing he’d disappear and she’d forget she’d ever met him. Or his partner, Robert Miller. They represented safety. And they represented the fact that she’d been violated, damaged, irrevocably changed.
Harry walked Boyd out to his unmarked sedan, keeping Laura in sight as he did.
“Is there anything else you know about this case but didn’t want to say in front of Laura?” Harry asked.
There had to be. And Harry had to find out what it was. He couldn’t wait around