Night Shifts Black

by Alyson Santos

  “You better since you got me banned.”

  He laughs and shakes his head. “Yeah, sorry about that. Not one of my finer moments.”

  I squeeze his knee and let go. “I’ve got you, Luke. Always, ok?”

  His eyes change as he studies me, and I let him look. I have nothing to hide. I mean every word.

  Finally, he gives me a weak smile. “I know. I don’t take that lightly.” He quiets and stares off at nothing for a minute. “You know, a year ago I was pretty sure I’d be dead by now. Two months ago I knew it. I was hoping.” He glances at me again. “I’m not supposed to be here, Callie.”

  My chest starts to burn at his words, the look in his eyes.

  “Well, I need you here. So does Casey,” I reply, leaning against him. “You’re not allowed to leave us.”

  I can feel his gentle laugh as he hugs me.

  “Casey is a special person. One of a kind. What that kid has been through…” Luke shakes his head. “Anyway, I don’t deserve him.”

  “You mean, with his dad?”

  Luke nods, and I pull away so I can face him. “His father, his sister. He was one of my first friends after I moved here. My parents pretty much decided they were done being parents when I was fourteen and sent me from Johannesburg to my aunt in Houston. I was completely alone, scared, and literally had nothing but my guitar and a few changes of clothes. I met Casey a year later and he became my best friend. He was my brother long before my brother-in-law.”

  He laughs at the memory. “You would have loved it. Wish I had pictures with me. He was this scrawny little kid with a violin, dressed like a punk rocker. From the second I saw him I knew I had to figure out what was wrong with this dude.”

  I laugh, not surprised for some reason.

  He grows serious. “We both lived through hell. We needed each other and supported each other over the years more times than I can count.”

  A light bulb goes on, and my eyes widen. “Is that where you found your music? Is that what ‘Argyle’ is about?”

  Luke seems pleased that I put it all together and offers a sad smile. “Yes, exactly. The music started ten years ago when he was fifteen. His father was going after his younger sister one day and he jumped in. Took a hell of a beating for her, but didn’t back down once. It was the bravest thing I’d ever seen. Even I was too scared to do anything but get his sister out of the way. He stayed with me for a week afterwards to recover, and because he was scared to go home. That’s when we started writing. I had my guitar, he had his passion for music, and that was that.” He quiets, and I can see the pain in his eyes. “Elena, his big sister, found him an old beat-up drum set that my aunt let us set up in the basement. Casey came over almost every day to take out his frustrations and heartache on that kit.”

  He clears his throat, and I don’t miss any of the significance of the gift he just gave me. I also have an overwhelming urge to hug Casey. Which reminds me…

  “Where is Casey anyway?” I ask, suddenly concerned.

  Luke furrows his brow, and I follow his gaze across the restaurant. Jana isn’t at her table either. My heart starts to constrict.

  “You should go check on him,” Luke says.

  I swallow and nod. “You don’t think…”

  Luke almost seems annoyed I’d even ask. “Of course not, but he’s probably trapped and could use the help.”

  I want to believe him. I know I should. Casey’s done nothing but prove over and over again that I should, and yet…all I can picture is Jana Furmali in her slinky little Bella Amberosi.

  I give Luke an apologetic look. I hate to leave him right after finally opening up about his past, but if I know him at all, he probably wants to be alone for a few minutes to process what just happened anyway. And I need Casey.

  I slide from the booth and make my way toward the restrooms. Sure enough, I’m not surprised when I peek into the alcove and see him tucked against the back wall, literally cornered by Jana.

  I know I shouldn’t, but I have to know. I have to, and pull back into hiding so I can listen.

  “I just don’t understand! What did I do wrong?”

  “You didn’t do anything wrong!” I can hear the exasperation in Casey’s voice and immediately relax. I feel guilty for even doubting him for a second.

  “But we had such a good time!”

  “Yeah, and that’s all it was. Look, I don’t want to be a dick, but I have to get back. To my friends. To my girlfriend.”

  “Just give me one more chance! I’ll get you that meeting with Reese Aster!”

  He lets out a bitter laugh. “Are you actually bribing me to go out with you? Come on, Jana. Don’t. You don’t need that. For the hundredth time, I’m seeing someone. You need to let go.”

  “No, I don’t believe that! There’s no way you’re seriously dating that little country slut.”

  “Don’t ever talk about her like that! You don’t know anything about her. Get out of my way.”

  “Casey!”

  “Let go of me! It’s not happening, Jana. Ever!”

  I round the corner, and Casey freezes in alarm. I feel terrible at the petrified look on his face, the fear that I’m going to think he’s anything but the prince that he is.

  “Callie…I…”

  “I think he’s made himself pretty clear,” I direct to Jana. “Even a ‘country slut’ like me can understand his message,” I quip, and I see Casey visibly take a breath.

  His relief only lasts a second. Jana’s glare turns violent as she spins and smacks him hard across the face.

  I gasp, and would probably have hit her back if she doesn’t run from the scene while we stand paralyzed in shock. I quickly recover and rush toward Casey, touching the fresh red mark on his cheek. His jaw is clenched, fire in his eyes, but I can tell he’s trying to gain control of himself.

  “Hey, are you ok?” I ask softly, trying to soothe the burn with my compassion.

  He curses and closes his eyes. “Fine.”

  “Casey…It’s definitely not you…it’s her,” I joke, and he cracks the slightest of smiles.

  “Yeah, I know. I saw that coming after our third date. That’s why there were only three.”

  I laugh. I can’t help it. “Well, I’m sorry if part of that was my fault. Ironically, I came to find you to give you this.”

  His gaze shoots to mine in surprise, and I wrap my arms around him. He relaxes and pulls me close.

  “Thanks, Callie. I needed that.”

  “Me, too,” I whisper. His heart is still beating fast, but I don’t know if it’s from me or Jana. Probably both. “Let’s go home,” I say, even though it means I have to let go of him.

  “Yeah. I’m definitely ready to get out of here.”

  I squeeze again before letting go. “At least the food was good,” I offer, and am thrilled to get my grin back.

  “Yeah. But definitely takeout next time.”

  “Totally agree. Let’s go make sure Luke picks up the check.”

  ∞∞∞

  Luke not only picks up the check, but has already taken care of it by the time we return. His intuition regarding the people he cares about never ceases to amaze me, and he hands Casey his jacket as we approach the booth.

  “You ok?” Luke asks.

  Casey mutters something, but doesn’t look over at the table across the room. I do, and notice it’s emptier than before.

  “She stormed off,” Luke explains, reading our interest. “What happened?”

  “She hit him,” I hiss, and Luke’s face darkens.

  “No way. Seriously?” he asks, scanning Casey’s face. He curses when he catches the red tinge of his cheek. “Man, I’m sorry. At least that means she gets it now.”

  Casey sighs and shakes his head. “Let’s just get out of here. Where’s Eli and Sweeny?”

  Luke smiles. “They left, too,” he says.

  Casey almost seems relieved. “Ok. Let’s go home.”

  ∞∞∞

  The
three of us crash on the couch when we return to the suite. Luke grabs a drink, but Casey and I pass. It’s then that I consider the reduced flow of alcohol into his system lately. Sure, there’s still a steady trickle, but it seems as though he’s cut back considerably.

  I lean against Casey, and Luke faces us from the other side of the couch. We’re all quiet for a while, enjoying the silence after the chaos of the bar, or club, or whatever 49th & Finch considers itself.

  “I told her some things,” Luke confesses, breaking the long silence.

  I can feel Casey stiffen, and glance up at his face. He doesn’t seem angry, just concerned.

  “Yeah?”

  Luke nods. “About how we got started, about that time with your father and Molly. Just thought you should know.”

  Casey doesn’t respond at first. “Fun story,” he mumbles finally.

  I take his hand and lace my fingers with his. “I want to know all the stories,” I say. “Fun or not.”

  “I don’t talk to him anymore,” Casey replies, and I’m not sure he even heard my response. He’s back there again. I can see it in his eyes when I look up at him. “I’m the only one who doesn’t, but he always hated me more than the others. I wasn’t as afraid of him as he wanted.”

  Luke nods, and I can see the understanding all over his face. The friendship, the history, the connection that explains their incredible music.

  “He hates that he was wrong about you, Case. He hates your success. I saw him when I went home a few weeks ago. He’s a bitter, miserable man,” Luke says.

  “You went home?” Casey asks, surprised. “Why? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Luke flinches, and we can tell this wasn’t supposed to be part of the story. I remember his trip. Clearly. I’d been so worried about him when he suddenly disappeared for a week without a word.

  The way his eyes are shifting now, I know it’s bad. What I don’t know is if he’s finally ready to share it with us. I don’t think we were supposed to know any of this. I doubt anyone was, which is all the more reason why it has to come out.

  He draws in a deep breath and concentrates on the floor.

  “I was… putting things in order. Preparing for…” Luke stops just as my heart does.

  I stare at him in horror, unable to speak. I don’t know what to do with that sentence. It’s too heavy, too important, too awful, too expected, too full, to process. I can’t see Casey’s face but I can feel his sudden tension behind me and know he’s having a similar reaction.

  Luke’s eyes venture toward us again, searching, clouded this time. “A month ago I was ready. I was done. That’s why I started visiting Jemma’s. The chair. To say goodbye with one final punishment for what I was. What I’d done. To force myself to confront my failure. A month ago was supposed to be the end.”

  I jump up from my seat and rush toward him. I don’t care. No. It’s too real now. Too close. I throw my arms around him and feel his tighten around me in return. We both are thinking the same thing, filled with the same sickening questions. What if I hadn’t butted in? What if I’d ignored his crazy behavior like everyone else? What if I’d done the right thing and been polite? My inexplicable rudeness saved his life. Started mine.

  I hold on. I know Casey understands what’s happening. That he’s not jealous, and he waits in silence as Luke and I put each other back together. Luke finally pulls away and swats at his eyes, a haunted look on his face. I know something’s happening in his head and sit back to let it breathe.

  He closes his eyes and starts speaking so softly, we can barely hear him at first.

  “It’s a perfect day for candlelight, let it cast its shadow.

  It’s a perfect day for apathy.

  It’s a perfect day for tragedy, eclipsed by a moment in time.

  It’s a perfect day, why not today?

  It’s a perfect day, don’t wait up for a tearful goodbye.

  It’s a perfect day for illusion.

  It’s a perfect day for solace, I’ll make this easy on you.

  Don’t you worry, it’s a perfect day, why not today?

  Can you hear me, screaming some lie, disguising the truth

  Can you see me, bleeding, I’m unraveling

  Shattering

  Do you remember what you told me, ‘Everything has its place and time?’

  Well, that’s fine, you can look away, you’re just proving it’s the perfect day.”

  He stops, and I’m certain none of us is breathing. We can’t risk changing the silence, the significance of the moment. We just absorb it, Luke’s devastating words echoing around us, reminding us how close we can be to pain without feeling it.

  I manage to inch back to Casey and lean against him. As soon as we touch, his arms encircle me and pull me close with an urgency that breaks my heart. I can feel him bury his face in my hair, and I clasp his hands to my chest, gripping hard. I can’t tell if he’s crying, but I know he’s a mess, too. We all are. But for the first time our disaster is out in the open for us to pick through together. I also know it’s finally time.

  “What’s The Chair, Luke? What’s its power?” I ask gently, somehow sensing he needs to tell us.

  He nods in response, almost as if he’d been expecting the question. I can feel Casey’s attention shift back to Luke as well, and we are both holding our breath, bracing for the ghost.

  “Things were really bad with Elena,” Luke begins, quietly. “They had been for a long time, but…I loved her… God, I loved her so much...I just couldn’t stop hurting her!” Luke’s voice is suddenly violent, “saturated with the self-hatred” Casey had described that one night. The tears come again, to all of us this time, but there’s nothing we can do but watch. Luke has to finish shattering.

  “We’d talked that day,” he continues after a long, painful pause. He wipes his cheeks with a rough hand. “She couldn’t take it anymore, the way things were. She wanted to try to work things out. I agreed to meet her that night at a little café called Jemma’s. One last shot to fix things.”

  A sob escapes him and he presses his fists to his eyes, shaking his head in disbelief. Finally, he looks up again, his eyes so full, so haunted, I’m completely paralyzed.

  “I didn’t show…” he whispers in horror. “No, worse than that. I ended up in a hotel room getting wasted with two girls I didn’t even know. I just…I just left her there! Fucking abandoned her!”

  His hands are shaking as he suddenly pulls out his phone. He scrolls through it with a delicate violence and stops suddenly, his eyes filling again. After a brief pause, he closes them and passes the phone to us, almost dropping it from the trembling. I glance at the screen and gasp, my pulse pounding.

  It’s a photo from Elena. Just a simple picture. Innocuous to anyone else, but horrifying to those who recognize that ugly, battered, vacant diner chair.

  I choke at the caption below it:

  “Guess I’m talking to a ghost tonight? Fuck you, Luke. I hate you.”

  “I left her there to die,” he whispers, tears streaming down his cheeks. “She killed herself shortly after she gave up and left.” His eyes turn hostile as he shakes his head. “No, sorry, wait. No! I killed her that night,” he hisses. “I was supposed to be there! I should have been in that chair! But I’m not, am I! I’m not there!” he cries, furious. “If I had, if I’d just…”

  He breaks down completely, and this time it’s Casey who closes the gap. He embraces Luke, and my heart explodes in my chest at the sight.

  “I need you to forgive me,” Luke sobs. “Forgive me for killing her. Please!” he pleads, his eyes wild, desperate, and Casey nods, tears drowning his own.

  “I do,” he whispers. “You know I do. Just come back to us, ok?”

  We don’t move for a long time. Casey holding Luke, me serving as a witness to this latest miracle, all of us thinking about the ghost chair locked in the office down the hall. I want to destroy it. Crush it into the unrecognizable pile of garbage it is, but it’s not my
demon to kill.

  “She called me, too, that night,” Casey says quietly.

  We both stare at him in shock.

  He nods and draws in a ragged breath. “Obviously, I didn’t know what she was planning to do. I thought it was weird that she called just to say she loved me and was proud of me. But I didn’t ask. I didn’t understand until after…until they called and said... And then…” He stops and meets Luke’s gaze. “I’m the last person she spoke to. Me! I had a chance to help, and I didn’t. Maybe it’s just as much my fault for not stopping her. For not loving my sister enough to recognize a suicide note when it slaps me in the face.”

  “Casey…” Luke says, but Casey pulls away and wipes his eyes.

  “I blamed myself for a long time, too, but now I know that blaming only helps if it has the power to change us. To make us better.” Casey meets Luke’s gaze, almost pleading with him, yet gentle at the same time. “Elena’s death made us better, Luke. And now we have a chance to make it matter. To make her matter!”

  Luke clenches his jaw, and I can tell Casey’s words struck hard. He stares at the far wall, his mind clearly taking off in many directions at once.

  “She matters, Case,” he whispers, looking up at him again. “So much.”

  Casey nods. “I know she does. I know.” He squeezes Luke’s arm, and glances at me. I smile through my tears, so full of compassion and love I can’t even speak. He seems to understand anyway as his eyes soften and he returns a weak smile of his own.

  We’re silent again. All of us, but it’s different this time. It’s softer, more comforting. We’re exhausted from what just happened, and I finally force myself up from the couch. I don’t know why, but suddenly, I can only think of one thing. One ending to this incredible, horrible, impossible night.

  “I’m going to make some tea,” I announce.

  I’m met with two shocked stares that quickly transform into perfect grins.

  “Tea sounds great,” Luke sighs.

  ∞∞∞

  Luke takes his tea to his room, and I place a second steaming cup in front of Casey who’s perched at the island.