He was well known here, sometimes stopping by with a couple of his guys after work when they were in the area. The bartender, Paul, and a few regulars offered him friendly nods as he made his way over to one of the small tables along the wall. Given that it was still early – barely past five – the place was fairly empty.
Eve was indeed waiting for him, dressed in a provocative, low-cut sundress that showcased her pin-up girl curves. Too bad it was wasted on him. At one time he might have found her attractive, but sometimes not even the prettiest packaging was enough to hide the ugliness inside. He found the pitcher of beer, two large frosty mugs and filled shot glasses sitting on the table far more interesting.
Eve gave him a hopeful smile as he approached the table. He did not return it. This was just a formality. His mind was already made up, and the sooner he could get this over with and get back to Holly, the better.
“Thanks for coming,” she said as he pulled out a chair and sat down across from her.
“You really didn’t give me much choice, Eve.”
“We always have a choice, Adam,” she said softly.
He ignored that. If she wanted to spend the next five minutes believing that he came here for any other reason than to get her the fuck out of his life once and for all, that was her issue. One drink, and he was gone. That was the deal.
Eve poured them each a beer, then dropped a shot into each of the mugs.
“Depth charges?” Adam asked, raising a brow. “Not really your style, is it, Eve?”
She gave him an enigmatic smile. “If you’re only giving me one drink, I thought it should be a good one.”
He couldn’t argue with that. Lifting the mug, he downed a quarter of it in one deep swallow. The beer was ice-cold and smooth, the whiskey, top-shelf. Under different circumstances, he would have appreciated it more.
“The meter’s running, Eve. If you have something to say, you should get to it.”
Her smile faltered for just a moment. “Fair enough. Alright. Here it is: I love you, Adam.”
She paused expectantly, searching his face intently for a reaction. Exactly what she was waiting for, he hadn’t a clue. Did she expect him to be moved by that? Or, God forbid, to return the sentiment?
Adam’s expression didn’t change when he finally said, “That’s it?”
“That’s enough, isn’t it?” she asked. “I love you, Adam. I’ve never felt anything like this before.”
He took another drink, reducing the amount remaining in the mug to half. “You don’t love me, Eve. You only want what you can’t have.”
Her expression hardened slightly as she began to realize that her declaration of love was not having the desired effect. “How can you possibly know what I feel?”
“I don’t,” he shrugged. “But I do know what love is. It isn’t flirting with and fucking every good-looking guy that catches your attention.”
Guilt suffused her features even as flames erupted in her eyes. “I didn’t care about any of them! I was trying to make you jealous!”
Adam continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “It isn’t calling me all hours of the day or night to check up on me –“
Eve’s voice began to rise, grew increasingly shrill. “You weren’t calling me! And I missed you! Is it so bad that I wanted to hear your voice?”
“- and it sure as hell isn’t stalking and threatening every woman I talk to for more than five minutes.”
“You are mine, Adam. I just wanted them to know that.”
“Goddamnit, Eve!” he said, pounding his fist on the table in frustration as the last of his hope for a clean and easy break faded away. “I am not yours! It was one fucking night!”
“It was beautiful....”
“It was sex. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Eve shook her head vigorously in denial. “No. You love me. I felt it here – “ she brought her hand to her heart “- when we made love.”
“We did not make love. We fucked. I did not - nor will I ever – love you, Eve.”
For a brief moment, Eve looked like she was going to erupt, and Adam prepared himself for the sting of her palm across his face. He wouldn’t have stopped her. His words, however true, were cruel and meant to shock her into acceptance.
But then the hard lines in her face evened out and her expression went oddly blank. “You’re scared of commitment. I get that – I really do. It’s why I’ve been so patient. But you can’t keep seeing other women, Adam. It confuses things.”
Eve started looking a little blurry. Adam blinked a few times to get her back into focus. She wasn’t just crazy, he realized. She was fucking nuts. Coming here had been a complete waste of his time; it was obvious that nothing he said was going to make it through to her delusional mind.
He reached for his mug, tilting it up and guzzling the rest. He’d kept his part of the bargain – one drink while he’d listened to what she’d had to say. Now it was time for her to keep hers.
Slamming it back down on the table decisively, he pushed away from the table and stood. A sudden wave of dizziness assaulted him, forcing him to grip the edge so he wouldn’t end up on his ass.
What the fuck? He wasn’t a big drinker, but one boilermaker sure as hell shouldn’t be affecting him this much, no matter how fast he drank it.
“Eve, get help. I’m outta here.”
He took one step, then two, before black dots started creeping in from the edges of his vision. His balance was totally off. He stumbled, listing sideways and bumping into another table.
“Hey Adam, you okay?” Paul called over.
Adam opened his mouth, and said something. His tongue wasn’t working properly, and it came out slurred and unintelligible.
“I told him he shouldn’t have had that drink on top of his pain meds,” he heard Eve say. She was right next to him, but she sounded so far away. “Poor guy hurt his back and can’t go an hour without agony.” What the fuck kind of bullshit was she spreading? He hadn’t hurt his back.
Eve tried to put an arm around him to steady him, but he pushed her hand away.
“I don’t think he should drive,” said one of the regulars.
“Definitely not,” agreed another, coming over to lend assistance. He slid himself under Adam’s arm and guided him to a chair. “Easy, Adam.”
“Jackson?” Adam slurred, squinting at the big bald guy basically keeping him upright.
“That’s right. I got you, man.” The big guy called out to Paul over his shoulder, “Better call his nephew.”
“Don’t bother,” Eve said quickly. “I can take him home. Just help me get him into my car.”
***
“Ma’am! Ma’am! Can you hear me?”
Holly moaned as the voice cut through the darkness. A man’s voice. Definitely not one she recognized, and not the one she wanted to hear most. Not Adam’s voice.
She shifted and an intense wave of pain nearly sent her back into oblivion. Damn, that hurt. She tried to breathe through the pain, but her throat protested, feeling raw and sore.
“Don’t try to move, ma’am. Let us check you out first, okay?” Strong, warm hands pushed her back gently. Not Adam’s hands. She opened her eyelids – which seemed to have been coated with lead - to find warm brown eyes regarding her from beneath a shock of blonde hair.
“What happened?” she mumbled. At least that’s what she tried to say. Her lips felt swollen and cracked, her tongue, roughly the size of a cucumber, and the words didn’t come out nearly as clear as they should have. “Who are you?”
“Jason Fielding, ma’am. I’m an EMT with the Covendale Fire and Rescue Squad.”
Fire. That single word gave her mind the jump-start it needed, triggering her memory. The smoke alarm sounding, the vision of the gray and black tendrils seeping through the cracks in the old shed and curling around the eaves. She’d run back into the house for her extinguisher, but she hadn’t even gotten the door open before it exploded outward, sending both her and Max hurtling
backward... Max!
“Max!” she called out desperately, sending her into a coughing fit that had stars swimming behind her eyes. “Max! Where’s my dog?!?”
Those strong hands kept her from moving too much. “Black and white husky, freaky eyes?”
“Yes, yes, that’s him. Have you seen him? Is he okay?”
“He’s fine,” the EMT said. His voice was commanding, yet deep and soothing. “One of the firefighters is checking him out. Smart dog. He’s the one who led us to you. They’ll bring him over in a minute, but you have to let me check you out first, okay?”
Thank God. Her breath came out in a whoosh of relief. Max was okay. She couldn’t bear it if something had happened to him.
The acrid scent of smoke still hung in the air, burning her nose and throat with each breath. Turning her head to the side, she saw the smoldering remains of the small wooden shed, it and its contents now reduced to nothing but a damp, charred pile of junk.
“Ma’am, look here, please,” the guy with the kind brown eyes said and he shined a tiny pen light into her eye. She felt it clear through to the other side of her skull, as if he’d just jammed a really big sword right into the socket. She shut her eyes tight and tried to wrench away, but he must have anticipated the move, because one of his hands cupped her jaw and kept her from moving too far.
“I’m sorry about that,” the man said, sounding like he really meant it. “I’ll be as gentle as I can, alright?”
Holly nodded, the sharp pain down her back making her wish she hadn’t done that. She tried to remain still and quiet while the EMT did his thing. He was only doing his job; it certainly wasn’t his fault she was such a major wuss when it came to handling pain. He was quick and efficient, assessing her injuries with the skill of someone who had done this more than a few times. Despite his gentle touch, she couldn’t help but cry out a few times when he hit upon some particularly tender parts. While he worked, she tried to distract herself by thinking about something else. Right at the top of the List of Other Stuff to Think About was what the hell had just happened.
Things were still pretty fuzzy around the edges, but obviously there had been an explosion, and before that, a fire. But how and why? Sure, she stored a couple of single gallon gas containers in there for the mower and the weed-whacker and stuff, but like the equipment, they were practically brand new. She’d had to buy all that stuff when she got the cottage.
And yeah, she stored a couple of rags in there, too, for checking the oil and whatnot, but so what? She kept the windows slightly cracked in the summer, and the place was drafty enough to disperse any fumes or vapors that might have built up.
Had something spontaneously ignited? It did happen occasionally, though it was rare. Or maybe a mouse or something had chewed into some wires? There weren’t any outlets in the shed, but a previous owner had run a line to install a worklight...
“Hey, Jason,” said another, familiar-sounding voice, pulling her back from her thoughts. “Ambulance just pulled up. How’s she - holy shit! Holly, is that you?”
Holly forced her eyelids open again – they kept shutting without conscious effort – and saw Adam’s nephew in full firefighter gear, sans face mask. “Brandon?”
Damn, but the kid was good looking, even more so in his uniform. She wished she could have snapped a picture for Liz. He had the makings of a great romance novel cover model. Maybe her next story should be about a fireman, she thought dizzily. But wait, he was a waiter, wasn’t he? And going to school to be an engineer? What the hell was he doing dressed as a fireman?
“I volunteer at the firehouse a couple of hour a week,” he answered, and she realized she must have spoken her thoughts aloud. Well, that explained the slight turn of his lips, even though his eyes looked worried. “My dad’s a volunteer fireman, and I took all the training in high school so I could go out with him on calls. You okay?”
No wonder Adam was so proud of the kid, she thought. She nodded, much more carefully this time, though she felt anything but. “Fucking awesome,” she said, her brain too muddled and her body in too much pain to waste the effort on a filter. “Crap, I don’t need to tip you for this, do I?”
He chuckled, but his handsome face held genuine concern. “Jason’s going to take real good care of you, Holly. He’s the best. Just listen to what he says, okay?”
“Okay,” she breathed. It’s not like she had a hell of a lot of choice. She could barely move without agonizing pain.
“Brandon, can you call Liz for me? Her number’s in my cell, which should be in my pocket...” Holly tried to move her right hand – the only one that appeared to be working – across her body awkwardly to pull out her phone. Jason saw her struggling and helped her out, handing the phone to Brandon.
“Do I need to go to the hospital?” she asked, trying to focus on EMT Jason. He was still a little blurry around the edges. “Wow. You have amazing eyes. Very kind.” Definitely a fireman-slash-EMT in her next novel. She’d read somewhere that firemen ranked number one on the list of female fantasies. How had she not yet tapped into that?
Jason smiled back at her with even, white teeth. “Thanks. And yes, you need to go to the hospital for some X-rays. The good news is, they’ll be able to give you something for the pain there, too, once they know what you’ve got going on.”
“Oh, I got it going on,” she mumbled, making him laugh. Pain meds. That sounded wonderful. Holly was not a big fan of pain. But she couldn’t just leave. “Someone needs to take care of Max...”
“I’ll take good care of him, Holly,” Brandon assured her. “You just take care of yourself, okay?”
“Okay...” Holly let her eyes close as they lifted her onto a stretcher.
***
With precise, careful movements, Holly gingerly got out of Liz’s car. After hours of being poked, prodded, X-rayed, and MRI’ed, all she wanted to do was crawl into her own bed and sleep for a week or so.
One broken arm, three cracked ribs, and a deeply bruised hip and shoulder hurt like hell. The pain meds they gave her at the hospital – only after they determined she did not have a serious concussion - did help somewhat, but not nearly enough. The ER doc had taken pity on her and written a prescription that should help with that. Holly wasted no time in downing two of the pills within seconds of picking them up at the drive-thru pharmacy on the way home. Already a very welcome, pleasant numbness was beginning to seep into her limbs, muting her pounding headache from a ten down to a seven on the tolerance scale.
“You should have stayed overnight,” Liz chastised, grabbing her overnight bag from the backseat and helping Holly into the house.
“I hate hospitals,” Holly groused.
“Everybody hates hospitals, Holly.”
“I want my own bed. I want Max.” I want Adam, she added silently.
“I know,” Liz exhaled. “But you’re stuck with me tonight. Brandon texted about two hours ago. He said he’ll bring Max over in the morning.”
“Did he say anything else?” Holly asked, hoping she didn’t sound as pathetic out loud as she did in her own head. Given Brandon’s involvement, she’d half-expected Adam to show up at the hospital, or to find him waiting for her when Liz brought her home. But he hadn’t shown. He hadn’t called or texted even once. Granted, he hadn’t said he would, but after last night, she’d kind of assumed they’d be getting together, picking up where they had left off this morning.
“No,” Liz said quietly.
At the look of sympathy in her eyes, Holly resolved not to ask again. She was not going to be that girl, she reminded herself. It was just as well. She and Vicodin were going to be pretty tight for the next couple of hours anyway. But it would have been nice if he’d at least called to see how she was. Assuming he knew. And why wouldn’t he know? Brandon had been there on the scene, and was watching Max, presumably at Adam’s house.
“Okay then. Thanks for hanging out tonight, Liz. Sucks for you, though, huh?”
“Like I had any
thing better to do,” Liz said, pulling off Holly’s shoes and socks. Liz was trying to keep things light, but Holly could see the worry in her eyes. Everyone should have a bestie like Liz, she decided. Someone to have your back. To be there when you found yourself in the hospital and needed a ride home.
“And no offense,” Liz continued, “but I’d rather be me than you right now.”
“Yeah, me, too,” Holly sighed, sinking into the pillow that still smelled a little like Adam. “Goodnight, Liz.”
“Goodnight, Holly.”
***
Sunlight streamed through the windows, searing his eyes. Adam rubbed at them, feeling like he’d been on one hell of a bender. It took him a couple of minutes to get his bearings. He was in his bed, his room, his house, with absolutely no idea how he got there. Thank God for small favors.
Adam dragged himself into the bathroom and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Christ, he looked like shit. What the hell happened last night?
He gripped the edge of the sink, gritting his teeth together while willing the room to stop spinning. Adam didn’t do shitfaced; yeah, he tossed back a few with the guys sometimes, but he certainly hadn’t been this out of it since he was a stupid kid. Like so many others, he’d learned the hard way, but he had learned. He knew his limits, and he made sure he stayed well within them, especially with Brandon around.
He leaned over and splashed cold water on his face. Fuck! Why couldn’t he remember anything? Most of his mind was focused on trying to stay upright and conscious, but to be this hung over, he should be able to recall something. Where had he been? Who had he been with? What had he done?
It was all a blur. There were vague, fleeting glimpses, but they couldn’t possibly be right. They had to be nightmares, because Adam wouldn’t have willingly done any of those things.
Five Minute Man: A Contemporary Love Story Page 12