Through Smoke: The Troubled Heroes Series

by J. R. Tate

  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 plastered 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. The 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 shuddered 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.

  For a moment, Eva had no idea what he was talking about. After a few seconds
of silence, it hit her. “Mikey, that guy was an ex of mine. Believe me, there is nothing going on. I will never be with him again.”

  Michael began to pace again, pausing in different places, looking at random pictures she had hung on the wall, and never truly looking her in the eye. “No? He sure looked kinda friendly to me.”

  “Well I hope you can trust me when I say that there’s nothing there. You’re the one I wanna be with. I can’t control what you believe, Michael.” Eva felt ridiculous. She knew the root of all of this venting was from the fact that Michael was upset about Darryl’s death. It seemed to take a huge tragedy for all emotions to be let out. The root of it all was Darryl and the bookie on Casey and his tail. This relationship stuff would probably be best left on the back burner. “I know it’s gonna take some time getting over Darryl, Mikey, and I’ll be here with you every step of the way if you want me to be.”

  They both stood on separate ends of the living room. Michael’s gaze would linger to hers and away. She could tell he felt awkward about what had panned out, but honestly, he looked more at ease than when he had showed up on her doorstep. He had gotten a lot of things off of his chest and she didn’t mind being his sounding board.

  After about five minutes of silence he walked toward her and pulled her into a tight hug, his arms wrapping tightly around her waist. He smelt musky with a hint of whiskey. “I’m so sorry, Eva.” He whispered into her neck and his breath was warm on her skin. “I’m so sorry for everything.”

  She closed her eyes and leaned into him, running her fingers through his moist hair. “There’s nothing to be sorry about.”

  “I need your help.”

  Despite the fact that he didn’t specify what, Eva knew exactly what he meant.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Michael felt vulnerable in every aspect of the word. What was Eva going to think of him now? Breaking down like that only made him look weak. He was helpless with her and with Viper. For all he knew, Viper was standing outside, watching his every move. He had no protection.

  Rolling over, he stared at the clock and felt Eva’s arms tighten around his waist. He had ended up staying the night with her and honestly, it felt good to have her warm body next to his in her bed. It was three AM and Michael couldn’t even remember ever agreeing to stay there. There had been no sex or anything of that nature, just her caring embrace that led him to her bedroom. Her arm lifted upward and he watched her hand skim across his bare chest.

  For her to still stick around after his blow up said a lot. He was downright hateful to her and she didn’t take a single bit of it personally. Not many could be that tough. Now the Viper situation was out in the open and the last thing Michael wanted to do was bring her into the problem. When he was in the midst of his panic attack, he had no idea what he was saying, almost like he had no control over it. In reality, it felt good to get it off his chest, but he felt guilty that it had to be Eva. He was thankful that she was there for him.

  Kicking the covers off, he tried to move out from under her arms without waking her. He couldn’t sleep and his mind was racing too much to lie there comfortably. He grabbed his pants and shirt and put them on, gazing down at her for a few more seconds. Her eyes slowly fluttered open and her expression was confused.

  “Mikey, where you going?”

  Michael ran his palm down the side of her face and she leaned into it. “I don’t know.” He shrugged, feeling ignorant the minute he replied back.

  Eva sat up and looked from the clock and back to him, her brow creased. “Is everything okay?” She reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling him down to sit beside her. Her grip tightened around his fingers and he squeezed back, unable to let her go.

  “I just can’t sleep. There’s…” he raked his hand through his hair, biting his bottom lip. “There’s so much shit that’s gotta get done. I don’t even know where to start.”

  Eva leaned in and brushed her lips over his, looking him in the eye. “I always say take it one day at a time. One thing at a time. That’s about all we can do.”

  Michael cupped the back of her head, pulling her close, the kiss growing more passionate. “Thank you, Eva.” He spoke between kisses, hardly having any time to catch a breath.

  Michael tossed and turned pretty much the whole night, and at around seven he decided to get up. Eva got up with him and they ate breakfast together. She had cooked eggs and bacon with strong coffee that he was grateful for. She even had the newspaper out for him beside his plate when he came into the kitchen after his shower.

  “Well hell, how did you know?” He smirked and hugged her from behind, kissing the back of her head. Her hair smelled like flowers.

  “People around the station talk, believe me.” She waved a spatula at him and turned around, her face growing serious. “What’s on the agenda today?”

  Michael sat down and skimmed over the front page, not really taking much of the news stories in. Shrugging, he took a bite of bacon, realizing that this was the first real meal he had eaten in over twenty-four hours. His stomach growled but he could only eat a little bit before feeling stuffed.

  “I don’t know. I should probably go over to Darryl’s house and see if Janice needs help on anything.” He didn’t want to do that. Looking into the face of a widow was one of the hardest things anyone had to face, especially when it was the wife of your best friend.

  Eva sat across from him, sipping on her mug of coffee. Michael watched as the steam lingered around the rim. “What about that bookie, Mikey?”

  Here it came. Michael was expecting this. Of course she was going to worry about the bookie, who wouldn’t? He flipped the paper over, his stomach jolting when he saw that the Mets had beaten the Yankees. Another bet had been flubbed by Casey, which meant more fuel was being added to the fire.

  “Not much I can do about that. I’ve got other things to worry about right now anyway. I’ve gotta bury my best friend in a couple of days. That takes seniority over some low life piece of shit who can’t do his own dirty work.” The tone in his voice was harsh and he regretted saying that the minute it came out. He needed to stop lashing out at her, the only person who had been there for him through it all. He reached out and put his hand on top of hers, patting it. “I’m sorry, Eva.”

  She nodded and slid her coffee cup from side to side. “It’s okay, I just don’t think it’s a good idea to put him on the back burner.”

  Nodding, Michael tossed the paper aside and smoothed his damp hair over with his hands. “You’re right, I can’t.”

  “What about the police?”

  Michael took in a deep breath. “I have no evidence of this guy doing anything to where the police could get involved. He’s been very careful with all of that.”

  Eva sat back in her chair and folded her arms over her chest. “He’s threatened you. That’s a crime! Oh, and not to mention the note he wrote you about the warehouse fires. What do you call that?”

  Michael was surprised at how riled up she was getting and he couldn’t tell if it was directed at him or just at anything in general. “It doesn’t have his real name on it. And threats are a crime, but seriously, what more can they do but take my police report and move along?” Michael paused and thought about it all, putting it all together. “I guess I can take the note to the police and see what they have to say.”

  Eva nodded. “Cops are assholes. This kind of crap usually gets filed away, but at least you can say you tried before it is too late. You gotta fire back with something or this Viper guy is gonna see it as weakness and make it even that much worse. Whether it be police or yourself, you’ve gotta do something.”

  Michael chewed on the inside of his cheek. “He killed my best friend. Believe me, that won’t go untouched.”

  Eva took a bite of her toast and Michael watched as some of the crumbs fell from the corner of her mouth. “I think you should still let the police know. You have nothing to lose in that since you have nothing to hide.”

  Michael instan
tly thought of the incident when he broke Viper’s finger when Viper was pointing it in his chest. He kept silent about that. Eva didn’t need to know and he was almost certain that it wouldn’t ever be brought up again. After everything Viper had put him through, it would definitely rank as self-defense.

  Standing up, he leaned in and kissed her. “Thanks for breakfast. I gotta get going. Lot’s to be done.”

  Before heading to Janice’s house, Michael stopped off at his apartment and changed into some nicer clothes. He was almost sure that there would just be family, friends, and fellow firefighters at her house, but he at least wanted to wear some nicer dress slacks and a polo shirt. Staring at himself in the mirror, he ran his fingers over the dark circles under his eyes. He smoothed his dark hair out, tucking in some stray hairs above his ears. It was time for a haircut, yet another thing to add to his list of things to do.

  As he locked up, he thought about Eva’s advice on going to the police. She was right. At least they would have his side of things on file if something big did happen. The last thing he needed happening was Viper turning this around on him and Michael becoming the fall guy. He would talk to a cop soon. At the moment, he had to go check on Janice like he had promised.

  The streets were wet from recent rainfall. There were crowds of people out and some were obvious tourists. Grumbling under his breath, he tried to push through a group of them who were holding things up because they just had to have a picture at that particular spot. It never ceased to amaze Michael. Out of towners would run out in the middle of rush hour traffic just to get that one amazing shot of Times Square up in lights. People were ignorant.

  He got past them and walked the few blocks over to Darryl’s place, a lump forming in his throat when he approached the outside of the complex. The last time he was here Darryl was alive and well. The Captain’s car was parked across the street. The red Crown Victoria that every firefighter’s family dreaded seeing parked outside of their home. The one that said, hey, your loved one is gone, never to be seen again. He would never forget the night he looked out his bedroom window and saw it down on the street below. The night he lost his father and his mom collapsed in the entryway of their house. Here it was again, just a newer model, but held the same meaning.