Through Smoke: The Troubled Heroes Series Page 6

  “I’m just makin’ my rounds. Checkin’ on all my boys and makin’ sure you haven’t skipped town.”

  Casey ran his hand through his hair. Viper walked throughout the house, almost as if he were browsing to take some things. “I’m still here and I’m not leaving. You checked on me, now you can go.”

  Viper stopped short of Michael’s bedroom and his fingers lingered down the door and over the knob. “Why you so scared about me running into your brother? If he knows what’s good for him he won’t do shit to me.” Viper paused and then pushed the door open. “In fact, I kinda wanna meet him. Big brother of Casey McGinnis. He’s gotta be a fuck up just like you. In fact, he can be leverage in this whole bet if you skip town.” Viper nodded as if he were trying to convince himself. He took in a deep breath as he eyed their father’s Medal of Valor. “Yeah, I like that idea. Collateral is always good in a loan, especially of this caliber.”

  “Michael has nothing to do with this. Leave him out of this.”

  “Well, Mr. McGinnis, you got him involved when he decided to help you out. Sorry.”

  Casey was at a loss on what to do. Viper was a determined guy and until the bet was settled, he was extremely vulnerable with him. He just had to hope Michael wouldn’t come home before Viper left.

  Michael was almost too tired to walk up the stairs to his apartment. They had a few calls here and there, but emotionally he was drained and it was taking its toll on the rest of his body. Sighing, he stared at the metal numbers on the outside of his door. Two eleven was written out in rusty numbers. He leaned his head on the wood for a moment before he unlocked the knob and entered.

  Casey wasn’t in the living room but the TV was blaring. He edged into the kitchen and there was still no sign of him. “Case?” He took his hat off and threw it on the kitchen counter, smoothing his hair down with his hand. Walking down the hallway, he was caught off guard when he saw Casey standing outside his bedroom door. “Hey man, what are you doing?” He could have sworn he left his door closed before he left in the morning. Did he just catch Casey snooping?

  Casey had a deer in the headlight look and backed into the wall, rattling a few picture frames. “Mikey! Hey!” His words were quick and panicked. “How about you go into the kitchen, I’ll cook you some supper. You look like you had a busy day.” Casey began to try and divert him backward but he resisted.

  Michael arched his eyebrow. “I’m not hungry. What the hell are you doing?” Before he could say anything else another man came out from his room. Anger flared and Michael stepped forward. “Who in the hell is this?” He pointed his thumb at the random stranger.

  “No need to worry about who I am. You’ll get to know me in due time, don’t worry.” The stranger patted Michael’s cheek, grinning as he spoke. His teeth were capped with gold and silver and Michael got a quick smell of his stale breath. He pulled his face away and fought the urge to punch him.

  Looking from Casey and back to the man, he bit his bottom lip. “Well ya see, I am going to worry when I come home to find some low life going through my bedroom.”

  Casey broke in, breaking the long stare that Michael and the thug were sharing. “Mikey, he’s Viper. He was just here for a little bit and he’s about to leave.”

  Michael nodded and let out a sarcastic laugh. The man’s blonde hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail. He reminded Michael of a cliché drug dealer seen in movies. Maybe that’s who he was, Casey’s drug dealer. That still didn’t give him the right to be there and him being in his bedroom worsened his cause. “You need to leave. If I find anything missing out of there..”

  Viper cut him off. “You’ll what? Believe me, Mikey, none of your personal possessions interest me. Casey knows what interests me. You remember how you’re talking to me. Cause I sure as hell won’t forget it.”

  Michael grabbed hold of his shirt, shoving him against the opposite wall. He couldn’t help but look closer at the caps on his teeth. “Get out of my house or I’ll have you arrested for breaking and entering. I better not see you around here again.” His grip was tight on the fabric and he could feel his palms growing numb. “Casey is done with your kind.”

  Viper smiled again. His arrogance just added fuel to the fire raging inside of Michael. “Like I said, you remember exactly what you did here tonight. You’ll regret it.”

  Michael released his shirt and watched as he walked down the hallway and out of the front door. He wouldn’t mind letting Casey have friends over if they weren’t the type that got him into trouble, but Casey had no friends of that nature. His trust issue was at an all time low with everyone and the last thing he wanted was random drug addicts shacking up in his home. He was almost certain that if he allowed Casey to continue staying with him that while he was at work, Casey would sneak them over like he obviously had already done. He didn’t want to kick him out but for the sake of his sanity, there wasn’t any other option.

  “Mikey, that wasn’t what you think, I swear.”

  Michael walked back to the living room and sat down, burying his head in his hands. He was hesitating. He felt guilty for wanting to kick him out. He tried his hardest to help him and he still went behind his back.

  “Why’d you let someone in when I told you not to?” He spoke through his hands and hoped it was loud enough for Casey to hear.

  “I didn’t. He came in uninvited.”

  Michael looked up. “And how did he know where you were then? He just knew that you were staying here?”

  Casey shook his head no and raked his hand over his face. “You have every right to be pissed.”

  “You’re damn right, I do.” He paused and leaned back on the couch. It was now or never. If he didn’t kick him out he would constantly have to worry about what was going on in his own house. He wouldn’t be able to focus on work and a bad day at his job meant someone either gets hurt or dies. He couldn’t live with that on his conscious. Then of course, he would definitely worry about Casey too. If he kicked him out where would he stay? He was hoping that maybe with him staying there he would be a good influence on him. Back out on the streets he had even more exposure. But who was he kidding? If he wanted to use the drugs, he would find a way regardless of where he was living.

  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 that 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 fr
ont 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 doing 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?”