Through Smoke: The Troubled Heroes Series (9 page)

Michael sat up, looking his baby brother right in eye. Neither decision was appealing, but it was time to man up.  “Pack up your shit and get the hell out of here.”

“Mikey, you’re not serious. I swear, no one else will come over.” His voice shook as he pleaded.

“Yeah, just like you promised you’d lay off of cocaine.  Just like you swore you’d finish rehab. Just like you said you’d keep that job I got you. I’m giving you thirty minutes to get your shit and go.” Michael looked away and stared at the TV.

“You won’t even let me explain who he was? It’s kind of important for both of us.” Casey stood up and grabbed some of his clothes on the floor by the couch.

“Nope. I don’t want you handing me anymore lies.”

Casey shoved what little belongings he had into a duffel bag.  Michael wasn’t sure, but it looked as if he was crying.  Guilt shot through him but he quickly remembered all of the times Casey had taken advantage of him before.
If Casey wanted to get better he would stay tough on the streets.
This would be the true test to see.

He pulled out his wallet and handed Casey a fifty-dollar bill.  It was the least he could do just in case Casey was being truthful.  “Here’s a little money to get you some food or something.” He paused. “There’s a shelter over on forty fourth.  It’s a soup kitchen too. They’ve got showers and things you can use if you need to clean up to find a job.”

Casey took the money and shoved it in the front pocket of his jeans. He quickly wiped away a tear.  “If you care, why can’t I just stay here? Please.”

“No. Maybe this time out there will give you a chance to think about how you’ve taken advantage of things.  If you’re really committed to getting clean you’ll do it without me. You’re an adult. I can’t make your choices for you.” Michael still felt like slime for booting out his own baby brother, but he had to grow up sometime.  “This is a true test.  I guess we’ll know soon how serious you are. I just can’t take your lies anymore.”

Casey slung the duffel bag over his shoulder and wiped another tear away.  “Okay then. Take care, Mikey.” With that comment he left, closing the door quietly behind him. 

Michael stared at the threshold, feeling his eyes burn.  A few tears flowed down his face.  Was he making the right decision? He overcame his drinking problems all on his own.  He was sure Casey could do it, it just called for a quick jolt into reality, and hopefully, that’s what this was. He had to realize there were no more free rides, especially when he was jeopardizing his safety by bringing random strangers into his home.  Michael couldn’t stand for that.

He needed to talk to someone.  Grabbing his cell phone, he scrolled to find Eva’s number.  He didn’t even have time to say hello today.  She didn’t know about his family problems but was still good to get his mind off of things.  It rang four times and went to her voicemail.  He didn’t leave a voicemail and hung up, scooting the phone across the glass surface of his coffee table.  Frustration boiled through him. The guest bedroom had a punching bag and he decided to take out all of his rage on that.  It was the best stress reliever he could find at the moment. 

He didn’t even bother to tape his hands and went straight into punching the hard plastic, feeling the bag’s resistance as he threw all of his strength at it.  He felt the instant burn as the friction rubbed against his skin. Grunting, he fought harder as thoughts and memories were drudged up.

Michael instantly thought of his father.  He really could use his advice at the moment. Throwing another punch, anger flared through him.  He was so upset at his father for dying. Why did he leave them at a young age? Michael felt the sweat absorbing into the fabric of his shirt so he quickly took it off.  The tank top underneath was soaked, but he kept it on, not taking any more time between punches. The chain holding the bag up clanked.  He felt guilty for having such thoughts of hatred toward his dad, but he couldn’t help it. Maybe, just maybe, if he didn’t die so long ago everything would be different.  It wasn’t right to think up what ifs and could have’s, but he did it like every other human being on the planet. He could always call his mom, but she had already given up on Casey and was like a brick wall when it came to him.  He was out of options.

As if someone was changing the channels in his mind, he quickly thought of Eva.  Was he being overanxious with her? It was just last night that they had slept together and today was extremely busy on both the fire and EMS side.  He had to give her the benefit of the doubt.  She had a life of her own.  What if she was dealing with drama of her own?

He slammed his fist into the punching bag one last time, pausing when he saw a splatter of blood on the blue vinyl.  Glancing down at his knuckles, he noticed a gash across the top of them.  He knew better than to do that without wrapping his hands, but he didn’t care.  It was the least he could have happen to him for sending his brother out without a place to stay. It was the only way he was going to make a man out of Casey though, and he had to keep convincing himself of that.  The second-guessing was driving him crazy.

Michael showered and wrapped his hand in some gauze and went to bed.  His mind continued to race with everything that transpired, past and present, and knew that sleep would probably be something he wouldn’t experience within the next several hours. 

After a night of tossing and turning, Michael finally gave up and got out of bed around seven the next day.  He was off for the day and had several errands to run, and his mind was still reeling with the issues that caused his insomnia.  Rubbing his eyes, he sat up and stretched out his back. He put on some sweats and a T-shirt and went for a jog. The morning air was cool and crisp. Traffic was already thick as the morning commute began. Crossing the street, he quickened his pace to almost a sprint, feeling the air sting his lungs. A strong scent of exhaust burned his nose.  He ran down Forty Second Street and up Fifth Avenue, past the fire station and down four blocks.  He dodged a few people here and there, but for the most part had a clear path on the sidewalk.

He listened to songs shuffle on his iPod, each one reminding him of something or someone.  He felt his feet pound on the sidewalk to the beat of the music, his pulse racing as sweat poured from his brow.  When he finally stopped, he found himself at Battery Park.  Catching his breath, he walked to the edge of the Hudson River. The air was cool as the wind brushed across the surface of the water. 

Sitting at a bench, he wiped some sweat from his face with the front of his shirt and watched as boats and ferries went back and forth.  His dad used to bring him and Casey here.  Memories flashed in his mind. He missed th
at old man every day.  People in
the department knew his story and how he died saving another fireman’s life. 
As he always did,
Michael couldn’t help but think about how things would be different if his father would’ve been alive. 

He shook those thoughts from his mind and got up.  He had no intention of running that far and decided it was best to get back home and get some stuff done. 

The jog back took a little longer.  His legs were tired and the cold air was starting to hinder his breathing. He forced himself to breathe in through the nose and out through the mouth. He tried using it to his advantage and refused to stop.  The exercise was a good stress reliever.

He made it back to his house at eight fifteen. Pulling his ear buds out, he tossed his iPod on the kitchen table and checked his phone. No messages or missed calls.  He grabbed a bottle of water and drank it down.  He needed to find stuff to do or it was going to be a long day.

Chapter Six

Eva stared down at her phone.  Michael called her the night before and she still hadn’t called him back.  She scrolled over his name, fighting the urge to press send.  She knew if she talked to him that she would give in again, and that wouldn’t be fair to either of them.  She still didn’t have the heart to tell him her feelings.  Eva felt so selfish for thinking the way she did. She was practically shunning him for his career because of her fear of getting attached to him and then losing him.  Who was she kidding? She was already attached to him.  She had to stop before it got worse, before it got tougher, before she could honestly say that she loved him. In reality, she did love him, but denial was a strong thing and if she enforced it, she could hopefully trick her own mind. 

Eva tossed the phone onto the kitchen counter and buried her face in her hands.  She was sure that Mikey was going to be pissed if she kept avoiding him.  To him it would look like a one night
stand and that wasn’t her intention at all.  She tried to see it from his point of view.  If she were on the receiving end, she would be livid too. 

Though her day off was much needed, she still hated it. Glancing up at the clock, it was five o’clock in the evening.  She wanted to eat out tonight and get out of her apartment, but then didn’
t feel like seeing
anyone at the same time. Scoffing at herself, she scooped her phone up and fell back onto the couch, staring at the ceiling, her mind instantly going back to Michael.

He was sweet and kind. He had the most amazing sense of humor and always seemed to listen to her when she spoke. So many guys before would talk so much about themselves, ask a question and she would get in a short response and suddenly it was back to them and their amazing lives.  Michael wasn’t like that at all.  He was genuinely sincere.  He loved his job and was good at it. He wasn’t in it like some firefighters, just for the glitz and heroics.  It was about the victim first.  He didn’t even care if he made the papers or news.  It was those small characteristics that made him the likable man he was.  Not only that, but he had an amazing smile that made her heart skip a beat every time she saw him. 

She hated her resistance toward him.  She needed to figure something out soon or Michael would hate her forever.

Michael swallowed the bile that formed in the back of his throat.  He stood on the stoop of the town home, taking in a deep breath as he balled his fist to knock on the mahogany wood door in front of him.  He hadn’t been here in a long time. Butterflies pattered in his stomach.  Why was he so nervous?  It was his own fault why he hadn’t come around.

He pounded his sore knuckle against the door, forgetting about the gash from the punching bag. Gritting his teeth, he switched to his left hand and knocked again, hoping it could be heard on the other side.  He held his breath when he heard the hinges squeak.

“Michael? Is everything okay?”

Nodding, he stepped back.  “Mom, you got time to talk?”

“Of course, hon, is everything okay?” She moved to the side to give him room. “Come on in and have a seat. I bet the subway ride up here wasn’t all that great.” She was now living in Queens.  He remembered her always vowing to get away from Hell’s Kitchen as soon as she could. 

The house smelled just as he remembered.  It was a clean smell.  Everything was in place and well taken care of.  His eyes scanned the living room with all of the pictures of family on walls and shelves.  He walked to a few pictures of him and Casey when they were younger.  Running his hands over the frames, he couldn’t help but smile at how goofy they both looked with their haircuts
and clothes
straight from the eighties.  Casey looked really healthy.  It was a shame what the drugs had done to him.  Then of course, there were photos of their dad.  A chill ran down his spine and he turned back to his mom.

“You look more and more like your dad every day.” She was sitting in a recliner, sipping on some tea. “It’s almost scary. He’d be so proud to know how well you’re do
ing with
the department.”

Michael felt his face heat up.  He never realized how much he resembled his dad until she pointed it out. “I had a good role model.”

She patted the chair beside her. “Come sit down.  You look like something is really bothering you.”  Pausing, she began to stand up. “You want something to drink?”

He held his hand up and leaned back in the other recliner. “No Mom, I’m fine.”  She looked frailer than the last time he had seen her. Her dark hair was now highlighted with grey. She was always a thin woman but she looked like she had lost even more weight.  Was it stress? He and Casey weren’t always the greatest sons and he regretted ever treating her the way he had. “I’m sorry I don’t come by more often.”

She pursed her lips and smiled. “No need to apologize, Michael.  I understand you’re a busy man. Now tell me the real reason you came by.”

Sighing, he closed his eyes for a second.  “I need to know if what I did is the right thing to do.” The room fell silent except for a faint ticking coming from the clock above the TV.