Through Smoke: The Troubled Heroes Series (17 page)

Michael felt her breathing quicken and saw the rise and fall of her chest.  He hovered over her, bracing one arm on the couch as the other roamed under her shirt.  Eva would close her eyes when his fingers lingered under her bra, her eyelids parting every now and then, exposing her hazel eyes.  Her lips were pursed and he covered his mouth with hers, the kiss more passionate this time as his tongue parted her mouth.

Her hands guided his shirt over the top of his head and she dug her nails into his back when he found his way below her belt.

“Mmm, Mikey. Don’t stop.” Her eyes were clamped shut, but Michael could tell she was enjoying what he was doing.  He kissed her forehead and his mouth began a trail down her face, her neck, to her chest. He could feel her heart beating and that made him speed up, her whimpers turning into pants. She couldn’t control her body as her hips moved in every direction and her fingers clamped onto his shoulders, pulling him down. 

Whispering, she opened her eyes to look at him. “Make love to me, Mikey.”

He almost did, but his mind seemed to flip to the morning he saw her outside with the other random guy he had never seen before.  Doubt settled in.  He didn’t know who he was or what he was in Eva’s life.  What if she was playing him?  Could she be messing around with both of them?  His sudden arousal was killed by those thoughts, and he pushed up off of her and sat up, catching his breath.  He couldn’t stand the thought of sharing her.

Eva sat up as well and a puzzled look shot across her face.  “What’s wrong?”

For a split second, Michael felt guilty. She had made the first move with him, but he could have easily said no and ended it. Instead, he let it get way out of control. That emotion was quickly replaced with confusion and anger. He reached over and helped her pull her shirt down.

She raked a hand through her hair and fastened her belt.  “I don’t… I don’t understand. Did I do something wrong?” Her voice was so full of question and she sounded like she was on the verge of tears.

Michael pulled his shirt over his head.  “This isn’t right.” His voice was low and he stared down at the floor.  “I can’t do this.” He was going to ask her about the guy at the firehouse that morning, but it didn’t feel appropriate.

Michael stood up to leave, but felt her hand grasp his forearm, turning him back. A few tears were trailing down her face.  “Are you getting back at me for not wanting to be with you?” She wiped her face with a tissue. 

“I’m sorry, Eva
.
I just can’t do this.
  I can’t share you.”

He pulled his arm away from her and made his exit, not even able to look back at her.  Regardless of the situation, he felt guilty. He should have never went to her place and allow it to escalate as far as it had. He should have come to his senses before he ever knocked, especially before he ever kissed her. How could he be such an asshole? There was just some form of attraction that led him back.  At the same time, maybe deep inside, his conscience was trying to get back at her for leading him on the way she had, but that didn’t feel right. He had never been the type of person to do that to someone, especially her. He cared for Eva, which made this whole situation that much more shitty. How could he have hurt her? Even if she was seeing the other guy, he couldn’t stand the thought of breaking her heart.

Eva watched Michael walk out and for a split second, debated on following him.  She couldn’t get her body to move.  She felt humiliated.  Was that his sole plan, to come in and embarrass her to get back at her for leading him on the way she had?  Michael was never that type of guy.  Burying her face in her hands, she allowed the tears to fall down her face, the warmth and moisture soaking her palms.

She could tell the moment he walked in the door that something was on his mind. His body language proved that he was frustrated and needed to talk, but couldn’t find the words. But about what?  Surely their problems weren’t consuming him.  He was stronger than that. 

She grabbed a tissue and wiped some of the smeared mascara away.  The tears on her lips were salty and she paused to watch the TV. Everybody Loves Raymond was still on and she quickly turned it off.  She didn’t want the reminder of Michael laughing, not after what had just played out.  His mood seemed to take a complete one eighty. 

What did he mean by sharing her?  His last comment had her baffled.  There was no other guy in her life.  She wanted Michael more than anyone else, even after what just happened. In fact, it had made her want him more.  She knew deep down he didn’t mean to hurt her.  There was something going on deeper than their relationship.  He was one of her best friends.

More tears fell and she stood up, staring out of her window to the street below, wondering if Michael had truly left.  A part of her was hoping he would be down on her stoop, but there was no sign of him.  He was probably mixed in with the crowd, making his way down the avenue. 

Michael showing up at her place had made her day.  She felt so stupid in kissing him.  He never came out and said he wanted to take her back, she had just assumed it by his presence.  Why did she make the first move? She never was a person to regret things, and honestly, those few minutes on the couch when Michael was on top of her felt so good and so right that she probably would have done it again.  Why had he backed off?

She sat back down on the couch, leaning on the pillow where Michael previously was.  A slight scent of his cologne still lingered in the fabric.  Now was the time she needed to be there for him, more than ever. She had to prove he wasn’t sharing her with anyone. She at least wanted to salvage their friendship. 

Michael stopped off at a bar near his apartment before going back home.  He was so restless that the thought of being back in the confines of his home was driving him crazy.  He had told himself a thousand times to avoid drinking, that he needed to stay sober and avoid getting back into a slump like he did when he was younger, but he couldn’t resist the neon signs advertising various drinks. 

He sat at the far end of the bar near some pool tables and eyed a couple of bikers just finishing a round.  The bartender was quick to get to him and he ordered a double shot of whiskey.  Staring at the glass, he debated with himself.  What good would drinking the alcohol do? For one, it would take the edge off of the pain he was feeling.  Michael traced the tip of his index finger over the rim of the glass.  The mixtures of smoke and alcohol burned his nostrils.  Looking up, he watched the different groups of people at the bar.  Were they going through hardships as well?  What were all these people doing here in the middle of the afternoon on a weekday? 

“Hey kid, you gonna drink that?”

An elderly man’s voice caught Michael’s attention and he turned to see a balding guy with a flannel coat right next to him, his stare going from the TV and back to him. 

“What’s that?” Michael arched his eyebrow and cupped his hand around the base of the shot glass.

“I said, are you gonna drink that? Awful waste of money to get that poured and leave it there.”

Michael could have sworn he had seen the man before.  “Yeah, yeah, I’m gonna drink it. What’s it to you?”

“You just seem hesitant, that’s all. Take it from someone who’s been there, if you’ve got doubts, don’t do it. You got nothing to lose if you never touch alcohol to your lips again.”

Michael scoffed and looked down, eyeing the amber liquid.  “I don’t think you’ve been where I am, Mister.”

The old man sipped on his beer and patted Michael on the back. “Every man has been down the very road you’re on right now. It might not be the same events taking place, but he’s been faced with tribulations.  Don’t think you’re alone.  Trust me, you won’t gain anything by drinking that.” He pointed a crooked finger down at the drink. “But what do I know? I’m just an old guy who’s lived for eighty years.” He winked and turned his attention back to the TV.

Michael glared at him.  He could have got defensive and reprimanded him for getting in his business, but he bit his tongue.  Even if he was a weird person, he had a point.  He was no better than Casey and his drug addict friends. Drinking the whiskey would only temporarily take his problems away. Tomorrow he would wake up with the same shit and a hangover to go with it.

Pulling out his wallet, he slapped a ten-dollar bill down on the bar and nodded at the stranger.  The bar visit was a minor detour on his way back home.  He had to find an alternate
way to blow off some steam.

Chapter Eleven

“So, apparently we were lucky to have yesterday off.”
Darryl placed a fresh cup of coffee in front of Michael and he wished he had the energy his friend had in the mornings
. He felt hungover and he didn’t even drink. 

“Why’s that?” He sipped on the drink, feeling its warmth all the way down to his stomach.

Darryl sat down and grabbed a section of the paper that Michael was done with.  “They had three warehouse fires.  Three. Can you believe that crap?”

Michael looked over the top of the New York Times.  “Yeah, there was an article about the sudden outbreak of fires in Hell’s Kitchen.  The Fire Investigator isn’t ruling out arson.”

“Hell, I wouldn’t ei
ther.  Three in the same neighborhood
within twenty-four hours
doesn’t seem like a coincidence to me.
  Someone is pissed off about something.” Darryl paused and jammed his fork in his eggs.  “So the Mets and Yankees are playing their series at the end of the week.
What do you
say we try and get tickets to one of them? We have that Friday off and it’s an afternoon game.”

Darryl’s question was like a punch to Michael’s stomach.  Usually the Mets and Yankees series was a big deal and he would never turn it down, but this year it held an all-new meaning.  Frankly, he wasn’t sure what would happen if it went either way.  Viper let it be known that the bet wouldn’t get Casey or him for that matter, out of hot water.

“Damn, is that already this week? Are they playing in
Queens
or The Bronx?” Michael knew exactly where they were playing but he was trying to buy time to think up an excuse why he couldn’t go.  He’d be a madman in the bleachers. It would be odd to root for the Yankees anyway, especially since he never did that before.

Darryl looked at him as if he wer
e from another planet. “Queens
.  It’s the same every year, Mikey. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

Michael folded the paper and tossed it aside.  “I’m fine.”

“Well? Let’s make a day out of it.”

Michael adjusted his hat and raked his hand through his hair.  “Gonna have to pass this year. Sorry.  My mom is having this get together and I can’t miss it.”  He felt guilty for lying but it was the quickest excuse he could muster up.

“Your mother? You’ve seen your mother like four times in the last three years.”

Michael nodded and finished his coffee. “My point exactly.  I need to see her.” He stood up and walked to the living room.  He wasn’t doing too well with the lying and had to get away from him.

“It’s the Mets and the Yankees, Mikey!”

“Ladder Twenty One, please respond to Forty Second and Eleven.”

Michael turned around before he ever reached the couch, groaning as he neared the pole.  “Forty Second and Eleven. That’s near the warehouses along the river. Looks like it might be one of those days again.”

Darryl patted his shoulder. “Only if we’re lucky.”

Thankfully the J and M warehouse had been abandoned for years.  The fire was contained on the first floor and was quickly put out.  The building would probably be condemned and knocked down.  Michael always wondered why they bothered with fighting the fire in places like that.  It would be doing the city a favor by allowing it to just burn to the ground. 

“Looks like the same burn pattern as the fires yesterday.” 

Michael looked at the fire investigator from the corner of his eye, and back to the building, still smoldering.  “So it’s arson?”

“Can’t officially say that yet.  If it is though, whoever is setting these is doing the basics to get the fires going.  Gasoline trail.  Nothing over the top or out of the ordinary.  And it looks to me as if they want Ladder Twenty-One to stay busy.  All in your precinct.”