Through Smoke: The Troubled Heroes Series (20 page)

Michael bit his bottom lip, remembering exactly how he felt that horrible night in his past. He knew before his mom actually told him too.  “Yeah, he does.”

“Mikey, you don’t have to stay.  I’m actually gonna head home too.  They’re done with me here.  I know this is the last place you probably wanna be.”

Michael tightened his sideways hug around her, not wanting to let her go.  “I’m here for you, Janice.  I’ll only leave if you want me to.”  He felt like he owed it to her.  He had failed Darryl by splitting up the team.  He couldn’t bear to think about making Janice face this alone.

“You look exhausted.  Go home and get some rest.  I’m just gonna head over and get Braden.” She paused and wiped a tear away from her face, bracing herself.  “I really appreciate everything.”

Michael knew he wouldn’t get any sleep at home.  He hugged her one last time, allowing himself to cry.  He didn’t want to let her go.  The pain he was feeling was immense and he could only imagine what she was going through.  To lose her other half had to be devastating.  Pulling away, he forced a smile. 

“Call me. I’m pretty sure Captain
Rooker
isn’t gonna let me work for awhile anyway.”

“Thanks, Mikey.”

Eva wasn’t sure if waiting for Michael was such a good idea.  Her heart skipped a beat when she saw him exit the side ER doors, turnouts in hand. Hesitating, she approached him.  “You need some help with that?” She reached for the smoky clothes, but he pulled away, his glare empty.  “I don’t mind helping, that’s a lot to carry.”

He slung his boots and fire jacket over his back.  “I carry them all the time. I’m fine.” 

She stood still for a few seconds, allowing him to walk ahead a few feet.  It was obvious he still wasn’t up to talking much just from his body language and tone of voice.  There was no bounce in his step.  No brightness in his eyes.  His expression was dull and lifeless.  Of course, she couldn’t blame him, but it still hurt to see him that way.  She couldn’t help but wonder how much time he was going to need.  He had just lost his best friend.  She couldn’t fathom the idea of what she would go through if she had lost someone as close as Darryl was to him.  She was hurting too.  Darryl was a fun guy, but she hadn’t gotten to know him like Michael had.

“Mikey.” Her voice trailed off.  She was thankful to see him turn around in mid step, his eyebrow arched. 

“Yeah?”

“You’ll let me know if you need anything, right?”

He shifted the boots on his shoulder and ducked his head.  “Thanks Eva.  I just want to be alone right now.  It’s not you.”  He turned back around and crossed the street, weaving in and out of a traffic jam.  Eva watched him until he was out of sight, a heavy feeling weighing deep inside of her. 

Michael stared out the window of his apartment, watching the rain patter against the glass.  People on the street below were running in every direction, dodging the random storm that popped out of nowhere.  In the midst of all Darryl’s death, the situation with Casey and Viper had slipped his mind.  He hadn’t heard from either in several days.  It was about time that either might show up on his doorstep again.

He stayed at the window, leaning his forehead against it.  The condensation was cool and moist on his skin. He had never taken the time to people watch.  There was a woman with a man.  They laughed as they sprinted to get under the awning of the bodega right next door to his apartment.  On the other side of the street a man was helping a young boy jump over a puddle.  Michael swallowed the lump that formed in his throat.  They resembled Darryl and Braden. He closed his eyes, hoping they would be gone when he looked back out. His breath left a fog that he ran his fingers through.  Lightning flickered, brightening his dark living room.  He didn’t feel like turning the lights on.  Being in darkness helped solidify the mood he was in.  After a few more seconds of staring, Michael pulled the blinds shut and made his way to the cabinet where a new bottle of whiskey waited.

He took a sip and sifted through his mail.  Most were bills, along with a random envelope that had no return address, just his name written out in bold black letters.  He quickly ripped it open and saw identical handwriting on notebook paper.

How about those warehouse fires? That last fire was intended for you.

Michael read over the letter again, fighting the urge to crumple the paper up.  It had to be Viper.  Was he the culprit behind all of the warehouse fires in Hell’s Kitchen?  He sat back in his chair and chugged another gulp of alcohol, savoring the burn as it went down.  His intention was to kill Michael in the fire and Darryl suffered for it.  Anger boiled through him.  He grabbed the end of his coffee table and flung it across the room.  It collided with a shelf, sending its contents crashing to the floor. 

Grabbing his cell phone, he dialed
the only number that could possibly be
Casey’
s
.  Of course, he didn’t answer.  “Casey, you better call me when you get this.”  He hung up and fought the urge to throw that as well. 

He sat back in his recliner and gripped the armrests.  The whiskey was beginning to take effect and his buzz was growing heavier by the second.  So many emotions came out.  He had already felt guilty for Darryl’s death, but now it was undeniable.  A fire set by a bookie after him and Casey, intended to kill him.  If only he had some warning.  Leaning forward, he read the note again, as if it changed since the last time.  What if he could take that into the police? Would that be enough to go on to get Viper put away?  Probably not.  There was no name on the note, no proof that it even came from him.  The NYPD would take it as a joke.

The walls of his apartment seemed to be closing in on him.  He eyed the coffee table flung against the wall.  Several keepsakes from the shelf were strewn everywhere, but thankfully none had broke.  Nursing the booze again,
he put the bottle down
and decided to go for a walk.  He didn’t feel like having company, but he sure as hell didn’t want to be alone either.

The rain was still coming down, but peaceful, in a rhythmic pattern.  Michael still felt like he couldn’t enjoy it.  He couldn’t get the thought that he was the one who killed Darryl out of his head.  Slap the cuffs on him, he deserved to be in the jail cell right next to Viper. 

Despite the rain, it felt like a crowd of people was out on the streets. Michael shoved through some, ignoring the comments of several that didn’t approve of him being impatient.  There were so many around, but he had the sensation he had at the hospital when he felt to be floating through everyone.   He surprised himself when he saw that he was at Eva’s doorstep. He had no intention to even go by her place. 

His fingers trailed over the keypad to ring her, and at first, he almost walked away.  She did say if he needed her to let her know.  What if her other boyfriend was there?  Taking in a deep breath, he pressed her button and jumped back when he heard her voice.

“Hello?”

“Eva?”

He didn’t say anything else and she buzzed him up.  What was he doing?  He felt out of his mind.  His heart skipped a beat when he saw her in the threshold of the door, her hair pulled up in a ponytail, no makeup, in sweats and a T-shirt.  Even in his panicked mind he still found her beautiful.  Swallowing, he forced himself to walk into her living room, his heart pounding out of his chest, feeling slightly relieved when there was no sign of anyone else there.

Eva stood back and observed Michael for a moment. It was obvious that he had been drinking, but his intoxication wasn’t overwhelming.  He still seemed to be coherent.  Just by his body language, she could tell that the conversation to come was going to be interesting.  Deep inside she was grateful he had come to her.  She couldn’t sit still thinking about what might happen to him in the midst of his grief.  She paused a few more seconds, waiting to see if he would break the silence, and when he didn’t, she grabbed his arm and turned him around, facing her.  His eyes were bloodshot and his expression was blank, like he was lost. 

“Mikey, why don’t you have a seat?” Her shaky voice sounded like a stranger’s. 

He hesitated at first, pulling away, but then settling into her grasp as she led him to the couch.  He shrugged out of his coat and she hung it near the door.  His dark hair was damp and plast
ered to his forehead.
             

“Mikey, what’s going on?”

He reached to her lap and grabbed her hand, squeezing it so tightly that a sharp pain shot up her arm, but she didn’t make it known to him.  His grip loosened and the feel of his palm was like sandpaper against hers. 

“I… I.” He trailed off and stared down at the floor. “I can’t do this.” His comment was a whisper.

“Can’t do what?”

Michael bit his bottom lip and finally looked up at her and Eva could swear she saw a tear form in the corner of his eye.  “He’s gone.  Darryl’s gone and it’s all my fault.” His voice grew shaky and the tear she thought she saw fell down his cheek, lingering on the tip of his nose as he looked back down at the floor. 

“Mikey, how in the world is it your fault?”

He pulled away from her and wiped his face with the back of his hand, taking in a deep breath.  She felt so bad for him.  Th
e guy had been to hell and
back with the death of his father and his out of control brother. Honestly, she was proud of how well he had handled everything.  She couldn’t blame him for being so torn up.

“I shouldn’t have ever left him alone during the search.  He’s not a normal search and rescue guy.” He paused as a few more tears fell.  “I ran in not thinking and he just did what was right by following me in.  I went in before I thought.”

At first, Eva wasn’t sure what to say. No matter what she said, he would still have the guilt. There was no eliminating that. It would have to run its course.  “I can say all the right things, Mikey, and tell you that it definitely isn’t your fault and that it was Darryl’s time, but I know you’re still gonna feel that way.
”

Michael looked up at her again.  It seemed like the green of his eyes was standing out even more than usual against his complexion. “There’s more to it.”  He stood up and began to pace back and forth in front of the TV, almost as if he were debating on telling her what more there was.  She stayed on the couch, allowing him his space and waited.  “Casey has a bookie after him for some debt he owes on some bets.” With each word he spoke he got more frantic and his pacing got quicker.  “I’m involved now.  The bookie is the one who has been setting the fires in Hell’s Kitchen.  He’s responsible for the fire that killed Darryl.  And it’s all my fucking fault!” He raised his voice and slammed his fist down on a nearby shelf, rattling the contents on it.

Eva stood up and approached him slowly, unsure of how he would react.  More tears streamed down his face, this time like torrential downpours.  Michael leaned on the shelf and buried his face in his hands.
His shoulders slumped and shudd
ered each time he took a breath. She couldn’t help but think that this sounded like something out of a movie. It was happening in real life, right in front of her, to a man she cared the world about, to a man she loved. “Mikey… you had no idea he’d do that.”

He pulled his hands away, revealing his soaked face, red with anger and fear. He spoke through clenched teeth.  “That fire was supposed to kill me, don’t you see? If I would’ve taken care of this bullshit with Casey’s bookie in the first place, Darryl would still be alive.  Instead, I ignored it thinking he would just fade off.  I should be in the morgue.”

“Mikey, don’t you ever say that.  This is all out of her hands, whether you see it or not.” She reached out and touched his arm again and this time he jerked away, walking clear across the room from her. 

“Don’t you fucking touch me.” He pointed his finger at her.  “Don’t go acting like you’re miss perfect to me and say you want your space and then suddenly want a relationship when there’s some other guy involved.”

She arched her eyebrow and folded her arms over her chest, telling herself now wasn’t the time to get defensive with him.  He was confused and emotional.  She had to cut him some slack.  “Mikey, what are you talking about?”

“I saw you out on the curb at work the other day, when you were loading the ambulance.  I saw that guy.”  There weren’t any
more tears falling.  Now his expression was pure anger.