by Alan Wild
Sounding skeptical, Owen said, “So, Dario, the hot stud that got me fired from my last job, Mr. Secure in every way, really isn’t that secure? It is good to know that you are human, after all.
Give me some time, and I can make your cookies Nate, is chocolate chip Okay?”
Nate smiled “You are too good to me, thank you, they are perfect. Hey, guys, while I was lying in pain both in the hospital and here, I got to thinking. I love working for Denver Police, I love using my skills. Working with Ray, I have learned more than I ever thought possible. He allows me to share my input, and more importantly, he values my input too. But I can’t ignore how I have been treated by my fellow officers. I am young, and that automatically qualifies me to be the butt of every joke. I am not taken seriously by anyone other than Ray. When I was in the hospital, you all are really the only people to show real concern. Sure, my fellow officers were there night and day waiting to hear news on my prognosis. Once they got word that I was going to live. Poof, they couldn’t get out fast enough. Anyway, let me get to the point. Do you think that you will have an opening on your team anytime soon?”
Before anyone could answer, Oliver walked in. “Nate, you are hired! Just get better first, then we can iron out the details of your employment.” Looking over at Owen, he asked, “What are you doing in my kitchen?” Owen blushed, “Sorry, Nate wanted cookies, and Dario ate them last night. I was going to make more.” He said. Oliver laughed and asked Dario, “What in the hell happened to your clean, no-carb diet?” Dario just shrugged his shoulders and mumbled something under his breath.
Oliver looked around to everyone on his team and said, “Guys, I have to confess, I heard everything you just said. I wasn’t trying to be an eavesdropping creeper or anything. Noah is mortified that you all witnessed his meltdown yesterday. He had a rough night with night terrors. I wanted to let him sleep, but I didn’t feel like facing anyone after my own behavior. So, I sat in the living room, staring out the window. I apologize for my behavior. It wasn’t professional, and I know better. Ajay, Nate, you have nothing to fix or to talk to Ray about. I am going to call him today and apologize. We are all under a huge amount of stress. Living together and being under lockdown, we are bound to go crazy. Let’s just work it out together as a team. I will get myself in check. Owen, I owe you a huge apology, really huge. I didn’t even think or consider you yesterday. I just gave you the task. This is not what you signed up for. You applied for a personal assistant position. Not a crime scene photographer and cataloger. I am sorry.”
Owen asked if he could go talk with Noah privately, “I won’t claim that I understand how he feels. What Noah has experienced is what nightmares are made of. I want to tell him that he is not alone.” Oliver said, “That is very kind of you, I am sure he would appreciate that. Noah is still sleeping. After the night terrors, he couldn’t get back to sleep. I had a bottle of Tylenol PM in the medicine cabinet. He is so sensitive to any medication; He broke one in half, and he is still out cold. I will check on him in a few minutes and let you know when he is up and about.” Oliver grabbed two cups of coffee and headed in the direction of the stairs when his phone rang. He answered promptly, to a jumble of words being thrown at him.
“NelDean, slow down, what are you talking about? We already established that Salvatore Petrelli is a murderer. We are still trying to catch the slippery fuck; we have eight off duty police officers guarding the house at all times.” NelDean became even more excited trying to explain what she found to Oliver “The man who beat my grandmother, Salvatore Petrelli, is a criminal who was wanted for killing a guy in Italy. His real name isn’t even Salvatore, the coward just added the S in front of Alvatore. The news clipping, we found had his picture, and it was printed in Italian.” Oliver smiled and asked how they translated the news clipping. Moaning NelDean said, “My sister has a translate app on her phone. She just typed the headline in and bam, Wanted for the murder of a man in a bar. It states his name but, I will just send you a picture of the article.” Oliver laughed at how excited she was. NelDean added, “Oh, and I thought you were going to get on my brother about keeping his phone on him.” Oliver rolled his eyes. “I think we should give him a pass this time. He was up with night terrors after we walked through his house yesterday.”
NelDean asked, “What the fuck are you talking about? I didn’t know he still had those things. And what is the big deal about his house? Oliver forgot for a moment that NelDean, like most people, thought the mess just vanishes with the police presence. “Nothing in his house has been cleaned. There is still brain matter stuck on the toilet in his bathroom. We had to collect some of his things.” NelDean was quiet for a moment, then she began to sob. Oliver could only make out every other word. “I should…. I am such…. I can’t believe it.” Oliver told her, “NelDean, I need you to breathe. Take a big breath for me. Oliver heard some noise on the line “This is Nora, why the fuck is this bitch crying and What is wrong with my brother?” Oliver said, “Nothing is wrong with your brother, I am Oliver by the way, it is nice to finally talk to you.” Yeah, you too. So, what is going on?” Oliver could hear a panic rise in Nora’s voice as she pulled the phone away. “Bitch, what the hell is wrong with you?”
Oliver tried to speak calmly, “Nora, we had to walk through your brother's house yesterday. He gathered some of his belongings. The house still needs to be cleaned. There is blood all over, and human tissue was left as well.” Nora became silent then said, “Do you realize that my brother has experienced more trauma and heartache in his short life than everyone in my family combined? Why would you let him go in there?” “He needed to get his belongings out of the safes, and he is the only one with the codes. I was next to him the entire time. He did break down while we were there and had night terrors. He is still sleeping, though.”
He disconnected the call after making several promises to have Noah call the second, he wakes. Grabbing the coffee that cooled off, he made his way back to the kitchen, pouring two new fresh cups of coffee. He looked to his captivated audience sitting at the table. “It is good that they are so protective of their brother, I am afraid of the day when I meet them in person.”
Walking in his bedroom and placing both cups on the nightstand, “Wake up my sleeping beauty,” Oliver began peppering Noah’s face with soft kisses. Noah opened one eye looking at Oliver and quickly closing it to the brightness in the room. “I brought you some coffee.” Noah moaned and rolled over. Oliver rubbed his back and said, “Oh no, Sugar tits, you have to get up. My phone has been fired up. Your sister Nora will have my balls in a vice grip and her foot up my asshole if I don’t have you on the phone in the next 15 minutes. I value my balls, and I like my asshole intact. So, you have to get up.” Noah remained silent for a moment, then he said, “Shit, you talked to Nora? What did she want?” Oliver rolled his eyes and sighed “She originally wanted to know why NelDean was crying. Then she wanted to know where you were and what was wrong. I assured them that you are fine, but they need to hear from you.”
Panicked, Noah asked, “Why is NelDean crying? How long have I been out?” Oliver asked him to sit up as he handed Noah his cup of coffee. “Drink up, and I can explain.” With half his cup consumed, Noah made his way out of the bed to search for his phone. “Do you have my phone? Noah asked. Oliver said, “No, where did you plug it in last night?” Noah confessed, “I don’t remember plugging it in because it wasn’t in my pocket.” Oliver said, “You and that phone, where did you have it last?” Noah had his eyebrows scrunched up and his lower lip between his teeth. “The last time I remember having it was at my house.” Oliver Laughed and said, “Your face is going to stay that way. We can go look for it later. Use my phone to call your sisters.”
With calls made, and family reassured that he is fine, Noah got in the shower and got ready for the day. Before he got in the shower, Oliver said, “Owen needs to talk to you. Do you want to go down to get something to eat, or would you like him to come up here? Noah, for a brief mo
ment, wondered why he was asking such a silly question. Then it all came back as he remembered his breakdown that happened in front of everyone. “Can he just come up here?”
Oliver checked on Noah before he let Owen in his room. Noah still had wet hair but was dressed. Owen, clearly concerned, “How are you doing?” Giving a slight smile, he said, “I’m okay, I guess. I’m embarrassed more than anything.” Owen said, “That is what I wanted to talk to you about. You have absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about. We all lost our shit in one way or another last night. You are going through a lot right now. I want you to know that you are not alone. I am here, and everyone downstairs is here for you as well. Noah, please don’t feel embarrassed about being human. Last night I lost my shit all over Willa and Dario. I apologized this morning. Yes, I still feel guilty, but I am giving myself a break. I’ve never seen anything like the condition your house was in. Dario ate all of the cookies in the house to cope, and even Oliver exploded. So, please give yourself a break.”
Noah was confused and worried. He asked, “Oliver exploded? What happened? Realizing his mistake, Owen said, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. I think that is something you should talk to Oliver about.” Noah smiled at Owen. “Thank you for coming up. It means a lot. I do appreciate it, and I feel better knowing I am not alone in this mess. I will be down in a few minutes.
Oliver and the team were at the table when Noah joined them. Turning red, Noah said, “I apologize for having a breakdown yesterday in front of you all.” Ajay laughed and said, “Hell, Noah, you are fine. We are more worried that Dario is going to eat all of the cookies again. He is going for the Kim Kardashian look.” Willa and Ajay broke out in the song “Oh my god, Becky, Look at her butt.” Dario yelled, “ENOUGH, it’s not cool to fat shame people.” Willa laughed. “Bitch, please, you haven’t been fat a single day in your life. And if those cookies go right to your ass, we will love you all the same.”
Oliver got his phone back from Noah, and he had a text from NelDean. Oliver looked at the article and forwarded it to his team. He said, “Can someone run this through Google Translate, please? Noah reached for his phone to see what everyone was looking at. Again, realizing he needed to find his phone, he asked, “Oliver. I need to run over to my house and look for my phone.”
Oliver said, “Sugar tits, we will go in a few minutes.”
Chapter 22
Noah waited patiently by the front door for Oliver. He considered for a split second just going over and looking for his phone. He wanted to avoid the trouble that would come with going anywhere alone. Standing there, Noah reflected on all the changes that were happening in his life in the last few weeks. Smiling, because, for the most part, he was happy for the first time in a very long time. He laughed to himself and thought, “I feel alive.”
Oliver joined him at the door and asked, “What’s got you smiling, Sugar tits?” Noah gave him a peck and said, “Nothing, let's go.” Walking out, Oliver spoke to the officers on the front porch and told them that they are going across the street to Noah’s house for a few minutes to find his phone. Waling in the same way as they did yesterday, Noah said, “This is not something I can get used to. Having to look at this filth and blood everywhere, it’s disgusting.”
Heading up the stairs, Noah said, “It has to be in the office or my bedroom.” Walking in the bedroom, Oliver looked in the closet, on the floor around the bed and under the bed. No phone. He padded over to his office when he heard the door slam. Oliver looked at him and said, “That must be the Officer I spoke to. I am going to check. Stay here, and I will check it out.”
Oliver made it down the stairs and was in the kitchen. He didn’t see anyone, so he turned to head back up to join Noah. That is when he felt the sharp sting in the base of his neck. Turning, He recognized the person from the pictures. He slurred his words, “Sal, you fucking little bitch.” Oliver’s body felt disconnected, and it was tingling all over. He had an ice-cold chill running through his veins. Suddenly he had a fight or flight surge in his body as he began to shake.
Sal had a rag over Oliver’s face. That didn’t prevent Oliver from getting a few good punches in before darkness took over.
Salvatore pulled Oliver to the back yard. Bitching about the weight of the man. He knocked Oliver’s head on the sliding glass metal frame and again on the brick patio. Blood spilled out from Oliver. The gash from his head was leaving a pool of blood. Sal was heaving, trying to catch his breath. Kicking Oliver as hard as he could, his foot landed on the unconscious man’s hip. With no time to spare, Sal headed up the stairs pulling the syringe from his pocket, dropping the orange cap on the carpet.
Noah found his phone in his office. Playing a joke on Oliver, he put his phone in his underwear. He planned on telling his new boyfriend that his phone was on him, but it was up to Oliver to find it. Walking to the stairs, He saw Sal first. Noah tried to run to his room and close the door. Sal was faster. He punched Noah in the back, sending him flying. A panic built-in Noah’s chest as he began to scream. Sal continued to punch again and again. Noah felt the sharp sting. His body felt light as though he was floating. Sal pulled, and everything started to go blurry to darkness.
Laying on cement something wet and sticky on his cheek, Oliver was unable to stir or shift his body, he sees movement. Again, darkness found him.
Sal pulled Noah down the stairs as his head hit every step. Once on the landing, he looked out the front window, “Shit, the fuckin pigs are coming.” Sal tosses Noah over his shoulder and runs for the backyard. Making it out the sliding glass door, he trips over Oliver. With uncontrolled rage, Sal kicks Oliver again. Looking for the section of the fence he unscrewed, he moves Noah’s 6-foot wooden fence panel. Heaving Noah over his shoulder again, he ran to the open part of the wood fence. Tossing Noah to the grass so he can put the fence back together as the splinters collecting in his hands send Sal over the edge.
“Fucking piece of shit, now I have to get his ass inside. This is going to be fun to watch the faggot scream and cry as I take a sledgehammer to each knee.”
Moving into the house next door, Sal tosses Noah to the ground. The smell of cat piss, garlic, and a decomposing body fill Sal’s nose. He slowly closed the sliding glass door and secured the locking pole. Closing the curtains, he moved Noah to the basement. Placing him in one of the dining chairs, Sal tied Noah’s hands behind his back and his legs to the chair. “Now, we wait for the queer to come to.”
Sal heard the sirens first. He goes to the window and peeks out. He sees the police move in force. A laugh builds and takes over. His body consumed with uncontrollable laughter, Sal moves to the Kitchen, drinking the last bottled water that the old lady had left. Sal turned on the TV and laid on the sofa. Knowing that people will knock on the door, he was satisfied all curtains were drawn. The house was dark as it has been for the last three weeks.
Dozing off to the sound of Fox News, Sal was jolted awake when he saw a reporter standing in front of Noah’s house. He turned up the volume as a smile built. “Oh, this is good.” Sal picks up the cat laying on the floor and slowly moves his hand down the shiny black fir. Soft and smooth to the touch. Talking to the cat, Sal said, “They haven’t even gone door to door. The pigs are just as stupid as the fucking queer downstairs.” The smile dropping from his face as he sees his picture with the caption “Armed and dangerous, do not approach, call 911.”
Walking upstairs, Sal hears movement in one of the bedrooms. “Fucking cats!” Paranoia takes hold, and he searched each room. Opening the door, he sees the fat lawyer lying on the bed where he left him. Staring at him, Sal noticed his shoe fell to the floor. “Willoughby, ya dumb fuck. I see you haven’t bled out yet. I am going to just have to take care of you before I leave. I always have to do all the work around here.”
Closing the door, he moved to the bedroom facing the front of the house. Sal just stood 7 feet away from the window and watched the performance of his life unfold. Stepping back away from the wi
ndow, the sound he expected finally came. The booming sound on the front door of a fist pounding. The doorbell rang several times. Sal sat in the closet, the only room in the house that didn’t smell like hell. He closed his eyes and inhaled the fragrant scent of lavender and clean linen. Dozing off, Sal slipped into a restless dream.
“The creaking sound moving slowly in the small incommodious house left him feeling suffocated. The stifling heat sucked the energy from his body. He lay in a puddle of his own sweat. The sound of the knocking had returned. The man, his parents, calls his uncle Al is at it again. Fucking knocking into the walls and knocking into shit, always knocking. “One more knock, and I swear to god, I am going to knock him.” Sal rises and moves to the window, looking out at the sodium streetlamp. The open window brings no relief.”
“The sound returns, more knocking. Flying out of his room in the cramped attic, he runs down the stairs to find the old asshole trying to get to the bathroom. He pushed the fucker in and padded to the kitchen. Removing the lid off the milk and drinking from the jug brings the desired relief as the shock of cold liquid flows down his throat. Pulling out a tray of ice, he sits at the table, rubbing the cubes on his head, neck, and chest. Rolling his wheelchair in the kitchen, Uncle Al tells him, “Do something useful and get me a beer. It’s time you know the truth.”
Popping open the can of Pabst Blue Ribbon, Sal finds enjoyment watching as Uncle Al struggles to reach for the beer that he has placed slightly out of his arm’s length.
“You think this is funny, you god damn joke. Give me the fucking beer.” Uncle Al is getting louder, so moving the beer within his reach is his best option. He wants to avoid his mom and dad waking and bitching at him about taking a shower, doing the dishes, or finding a job.”
