Through Smoke: The Troubled Heroes Series

by J. R. Tate

  “What are you looking for?” He felt hungover. He let out a moan and rubbed the palm of his hand over his eye.

  “Your damn cell phone so I can get it to shut up!”

  He finally pulled through his confusion, grabbing the phone that somehow buried underneath mail and junk that he didn’t remember setting there. “You gotta work today?” He mumbled into the pillow, hoping Eva could make out what he was saying.

  “Yes, I have a shift at seven.” She got off the side of the bed and grabbed one of his shirts and put it on. She looked good in his shirt, he couldn’t deny that.

  “You didn’t tell me you had to work. Sorry you were up so late.”

  Eva scoffed and smoothed her hair out, putting it up in a ponytail. “Not like we could help it. We just have some psycho mad man looking through your window with binoculars.” She paused and took a look at herself in the mirror. “It’s six fifteen. I desperately need a shower. Think Captain will be pissed if I’m late?”

  Michael balled up a pillow and tucked it under his chin as he watched her from the bed. “Don’t be silly, use mine.”

  She gave him a side glare and leaned down, giving him a peck on the lips. “All of my stuff is at my place. Thanks for the offer though.” She bit her bottom lip and ran her hand through his hair. “You gonna go try and see that shrink today?”

  He shrugged. It didn’t sound too appealing, but he wanted to get back to work so he could somewhat keep an eye on her. There was no telling what Viper would do. “I don’t really want to. And I really wish you didn’t have to work today.”

  “Why? It’s the best thing for us. Get our mind off of this other bull shit.”

  Michael let out a sigh and kicked his legs over the side of the bed. “I’m just a little gun shy about Viper and what he’s capable of, that’s all. Just be careful, okay? I’ll go see that shrink and get this crap over with. It’s a waste of time.”

  She kissed him again, this time a little deeper and longer. “It’s not a waste of time if it’ll get you back on the truck. I’ll text you later.” She squeezed his hand and was out the door quickly, leaving him alone in the silence of his apartment, exactly where he didn’t want to be.

  “McGinnis, are you here to see the psychologist?” The Captain was sitting at his desk and caught Michael off guard as he walked through the station. “I haven’t seen you in plain clothes in so long, I almost didn’t recognize you!”

  Michael couldn’t help but feel a knot in his stomach. Talking to a shrink was the last thing he wanted to do and not the most thrilling either. “Sir, with all due respect, why am I having to see someone?”

  Captain Rooker folded his hands together on top of his desk. “Come in and have a seat for a second.”

  Michael did as he was told, his curiosity running wild. He wouldn’t say this out loud, but he felt targeted. Why didn’t anyone else have to talk to a psychologist?

  “McGinnis, it’s standard procedure for firemen to talk to someone if or when a man in the company is killed.”

  Michael leaned back in the chair and chewed on the inside of his cheek. “I thought you said if we needed it, to tell you.”

  “In most instances, yes, the therapy is optional, but McGinnis, I feel it’s a necessity for you right now. I feel you are distancing yourself, like there’s more to your problems than Darryl’s death. I can tell you have a lot of your mind and that’s enough burden for any man to carry, especially in a job like ours. I just need you to talk to them. Vent it out. Get it off your chest. That’s all I ask.”

  Michael pursed his lips. “And then I can get back on the truck?”

  Captain Rooker nodded. “If they deem you fit to get back to work than I’d be more than happy to have you back. You wanna talk today?”

  Michael contemplated the question as if it was a major life decision. It was a no brainer. Talk to the shrink and get back to work or keep dodging the uncomfortable situation and sit at home as he slowly went crazy with every creak and moan the apartment building echoed. “Yes sir, might as well get this shit over with.”

  “She’s in the back office.”

  “She’s here?”

  “Yeah. Isaacs talked to her earlier. You’d be surprised how many people take advantage of the therapy.”

  Michael shook his head and stood up, making his way to the back of the station house, fighting off the butterflies in his stomach. The office door was shut so he knocked and a light, feminine voice invited him in. She was an older lady in what Michael would guess was in her late fifties. Her graying hair was pulled back in a tight bun and she had a pair of reading glasses perched on the bridge of her nose.

  Peering over the gold rims, she smiled, her grin pleasant to him. “Can I help you?”

  “I’m uhh, I’m McGinnis. I’m supposed to come talk to you to get cleared.”

  “Oh of course. Come in and have a seat and we can start when you are ready.” She paused and gripped a wooden pen between her index and thumb. “You are Michael McGinnis, correct?”

  Michael nodded, his eyes scanning the old, run down office. He thought they could at least get her a decent place to conduct the prying she was about to do to him. He had never liked shrinks. He had to see one after his father’s death and in high school he was court ordered to attend counseling when he was having his troubles with the law. To him they were nothing more than overpaid nosey human beings.

  “My name is Denise Cline. Anything you’d like to talk about?”

  He hated the anger he was feeling toward her. She looked like she was someone’s grandmother and it felt as if he were staring daggers at her. He rubbed his hands together and let out an awkward laugh. “Nope.”

  Denise jotted something down on a notepad. Of course she did. That’s what they were so good at, getting people to spill their whole life story as they secretly write on paper and keep that to themselves. “It’s clear that you needed to see me, otherwise it wouldn’t have been requested by your superiors.”

  “Let’s just cover enough to get me back on the truck, how’s that?”

  Denise clicked her pen open and shut, her once pleasant smile turning into a glare. “Your father died when you were younger, correct?”

  “Why are you asking that when you already know? You have my whole file in front you.”

  “I’m trying to get you to talk.”

  Michael folded his arms over his chest, attempting to sustain the emotions that were exploding throughout him. “Yes, my father died when I was fourteen doing the same job I was stupid enough to do later on. We seem to have a tradition of dying young, as Darryl has too.” Her technique worked on him and he couldn’t control what he had said.

  “Do you feel as if you’re going to die young, Michael?”

  Denise’s question hit him hard. He had thought about it before, of course. It just wasn’t something he liked to discuss. “That’s a stupid question.”

  “How is it a stupid question? It’s a simple yes or no.”

  “You’ve been a FDNY counselor for awhile, I would think. You must’ve talked to hundreds of firefighters in times of crisis. What’s the most common answer you seem to get when you ask that to the others?”

  Denise’s reaction to his own question made him feel good. She must have not been used to having questions being asked to her. “I would say the majority feel that their chances of dying young were good.”

  Michael nodded in agreement. “Exactly. Every time the alarm goes off for us to get to a fire, it runs through every single person’s mind in this department whether they will be coming back. Even with the smallest of fires, you just never know. Darryl died in an abandoned warehouse we probably should’ve never gone into. It should’ve been a routine call, but ya see, there’s no such thing as routine in this business.”

  Denise jotted more stuff down on her notepad and Michael knew he was probably digging himself a deeper hole than he was in before. It did feel good to air it all out. The room fell silent again. One thing he had lea
rned from his past was to let the therapist do more talking if possible. Sometimes it worked and sometimes it backfired.

  “Do you feel as if you are to blame for his death?”

  Another question that felt as if someone had punched him right in the gut. He told himself to just answer honestly. It would get him out of here and back to work. That was his ultimate goal. “Yes, I do.”

  “And why, Michael?”

  “Because we went in and got split up. You never split your team up.”

  “From what I understand, there was an apparent victim you were told to go search for.”

  “Yes, that’s correct. The details of that fire are a blur to me. I just know we got split up and the next thing I know, Darryl is dead.”

  Denise clasped her hands together and stared at him a moment, making him feel even more uncomfortable, if that were possible. “And are you supposed to hold all of the guy’s hands who go into a burning building?”

  “I uhh, I’m not following you.”

  “You say you’re to blame because you all got split up. How is that your fault? Darryl was a grown man, capable of making his own decisions. He’s the one who decided to stay behind and not keep up. You didn’t do it, no matter how much you want to say you did.”

  Michael wasn’t used to the abruptness, but felt it was appropriate. Maybe that was her technique, to pull other firefighters out of their guilt trips and help them move on with their lives. It didn’t matter, though. He was still going to feel partly to blame for it because the fire was set with the intention of killing him and not Darryl. It was all because of Viper. Denise would never know that. He would never tell her. The last thing he needed was to open up that can of worms with her. She was already looking at him like he was crazy.

  “Do you not agree, Michael?”

  He raked his hand through his hair and let out a sigh. “There’s more to it than that, and frankly, I don’t want to talk about that. There are some things I’d prefer to keep quiet, even if it means I won’t be cleared to work.”

  More notes were being written down. He wanted to just take her notepad and rip it up. That must be something they trained you in during therapy school or whatever it was called. It was required to write things down to make the other person suspicious. It was definitely working on him.

  “It might make you feel better if you let it all out.”

  Michael scoffed and shifted his weight in the seat. “Or make things worse.” He began to say more, but stopped himself. “Look, I don’t feel like this is getting us anywhere. What exactly is the point of this? So you can reel in a paycheck from the City of New York to counsel mentally exhausted firemen because we possibly have one of the hardest jobs out there? Does it make you feel good knowing you are reaping the benefits of men and women who are enduring hardships by talking in circles with them? That’s all you are doing, is talking in circles.”

  He couldn’t tell whether he made a dent with Denise or not. By her reaction, he couldn’t tell much of anything. Her expression was stone solid, only a small curve of her lips as she allowed him to vent it out. “You are getting things off of your chest to a neutral person who won’t judge you. And from what I can tell, it’s working. You are venting whatever is on your mind, which is the first step in all of this, even if we aren’t talking about the death of your friend.”

  “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “The mind is a complex thing, Michael. There is always more than one thing that is bothering someone. Everything gets compressed inside your brain. Of course, there is always one problem that sticks out more than the others, and in your situation, it is Darryl. By venting out everything, it helps each problem flow out and release the tension you are feeling.”

  Michael held his hand up and nodded. “I just want to get back to work, that’s all I want.”

  Denise checked her watch. “I’ll look over your stuff and let your Captain know what I think of this session.”

  “So basically that means no, I’m not released?”

  She shook her head. “No, that’s not what I am saying. We’ll be in touch very soon. I know how much it means to you to get back to your job. That’s an admirable trait and believe me, that will be included in my assessment.” She turned toward her laptop and adjusted her reading glasses. “Have a good afternoon, McGinnis. Things will get easier, I promise.”

  Eva was feeling good after work and decided to stop by Mikey’s place. They had been spending a lot of time together and she wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. He did seem like he wanted her around, but she feared that she might be smothering him. To make sure it was okay, she sent him a quick text before leaving the station. He had replied with a generic response, saying it was fine.

  One thing she hated about text was the lack of emotion and tone of voice. Did he really want to see her or was he just humoring her? She’d gauge his reaction when she got there, despite the fact that it was hard to tell lately. She couldn’t blame him. She’d be a basket case if she recently lost her best friend too.

  After the short walk he buzzed her up. Her heart raced as she opened the door and went in. He was on the couch, sipping on a beer and watching the Mets game. He nodded toward her and diverted his attention back to the TV as he nursed on the drink.

  “Who’s winning?”

  “Mets, surprisingly.”

  Sitting beside him, she tossed her purse on the coffee table and studied him from the corner of her eye. He was in jeans and a t-shirt. He looked tense and exhausted.

  “You want to be alone?”

  That question finally got his full attention and he looked her straight in the eye. “No. Why?”

  “You just seem quiet, that’s all. Wanna make sure I’m not bugging you or anything.”

  He grabbed her hand and kissed the back of it. His lips were smooth against her skin and it jolted her memory to the evening before when they had made love right on the very couch they were sitting. It was a shame that Viper ruined the night.

  “You aren’t bugging me. I want you here. Viper won’t get to you if I’m around.”

  “How did the counseling go this morning?”

  Michael shrugged and sloshed the last remnants of the beer around before setting the bottle aside. “Same old crap they all say. Said she’d assess our session and let Captain Rooker know something. I take that as saying I’m not ready to get back to work yet.” He let out a sigh and turned back to the game. “I wasn’t exactly Mr. Cooperative either though.”

  Eva let out a giggle. “I didn’t figure you would be. At least you are getting a short vacation.”

  “Not exactly what I’d call a vacation. I sit here all day wondering when Viper is gonna show up again. I wonder why the cops aren’t doing their damn jobs. I gotta get back on the truck, Eva. That’s what Darryl would want me to do.”

  She brushed her fingers through the back of his hair, feeling the smoothness and thickness of it on her palm. “Of course he would.”

  The loud sound of Michael’s doorbell caused her to jump. Her pulse quickened as he got up to find out who it was outside, waiting to be buzzed up. “Who is it?” Michael queued the speaker.

  “Hey brother, it’s Casey. Can you let me in?”

  Michael looked back at her, his eyes wide with questions. “Get your ass up here.” His voice was calm but she could tell he was nervous by the way he paced as they waited on him to make his trek up the stairs. The knock on the door made Michael stop in mid stride and it felt as if he sprinted to the door to let his younger sibling in. Casey came through the threshold and Eva’s first observation was that he looked to have not slept in days. His hair was disheveled and flying in every direction, his clothes were wrinkled, and his posture was slumped. She didn’t really know Casey, but always thought he resembled Michael in certain ways, but tonight it was like they were polar opposites.

  “Are you high?” Michael broke the silence.

  Casey shook his head no. “No man, I’m not high.” He s
trolled to the kitchen. “You got something to eat?”

  Michael stepped in front of Casey, blocking his path. Eva wasn’t sure what was going to happen, but she personally didn’t want to witness a fight between brothers.

  “What in the hell are you doing here, Casey?”

  Casey stepped back, arching his eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

  “Do you even realize the hell that I’ve… we’ve gone through this past week?” He pointed toward Eva. “All because of you and your major fuck up?”

  “I’m not following you, Mikey.”

  Michael laughed a sarcastic laugh. “You’re kidding me right? You really have no idea?” Michael glanced back at Eva, almost like he was apologizing for what was about to transpire. “You make a deal with a bookie. You screw it up. You get me involved, which gets not only me, but Darryl and Eva involved too. Viper killed Darryl a few days ago in a fire. Now he’s spying on Eva and me. And here comes Casey who has been in hiding, back out in the open for God knows how long, only to disappear again when shit starts hitting the fan. Do you get what I’m saying now?” Michael prodded his index finger into Casey’s chest with enough force to make him step backward.

  “He’s gonna kill me, Mikey.” It was a whisper, but Eva could hear every word.

  Michael arched his eyebrow, and for a split second, Eva could swear he was going to deck Casey. “So, you hide away and don’t face it like a man, making other guys take the fall for your problem. Did you not hear me? Darryl is dead, so someone has already died because of this. And it’s not over! Viper is still after me because of you. So as always, thanks for starting the fire but disappear when it’s time to do something about it. It’s like you’ve been since we were kids.”

  Casey looked down at the floor. “I had no idea it would get this bad.”

  “Well it has, Casey. It has.” Michael walked past him, allowing his shoulder to collide with Casey’s. “No, I don’t have any food. I don’t have anything you want here.”