Smolder

by Lacey Weatherford

  “Hey, don’t go there.” Standing, he moved beside me squatting down and taking one of my hands. “He was responsible for himself. Not you. If he knew something was wrong, he should’ve known he could come to you about it. You aren’t responsible for his death.”

  A half-quivering sob escaped me. “I feel responsible though. Looking back, I see little hints that should’ve been red flag warnings to me. I ignored them all.”

  Russ’s arms wrapped around me, enveloping me in their strong warmth, and the scent of his aftershave flooded my senses. I sank into his embrace, relishing the feel of him and the comfort I found there.

  Sighing heavily, I closed my eyes, one of my hands slipping to rest on his large bicep, as his lips brushed lightly across the top of my forehead.

  What the heck am I doing? Immediately I straightened and he released me. “I’m sorry. That was totally inappropriate.”

  “No, it wasn’t,” he argued. “Sometimes doctors need some compassion, too.”

  I simply stared at him. “Are you for real?”

  He laughed, putting much needed distance between us as he returned to his chair. “I’m very real. And that may be exactly what’s upsetting you. I know there are rules regarding conduct between doctor and patient, but you should also know I don’t pay a whole lot of attention to rules. If I see something that needs to be done, I do it, consequences be damned. You needed some comfort—so sue me.”

  I couldn’t stop smiling. “Somehow I think the world would be a whole lot better place if there were more people like you in it.”

  “I’m just a regular guy, Doc. No need to go setting me up on a pedestal.”

  Forcing myself to look away from him, I gathered my notebook and pencil, briefly going over the notes from our last session. I wasn’t sure what it was about Russ, but he was quickly turning into the most difficult patient I’d ever dealt with—not that I thought he was being that way on purpose, but still, he constantly distracted me in a completely unprofessional manner. This was something I’d never dealt with before, and I’d treated many handsome men. Russ was even a few years younger than me, but my heart and head didn’t seem to mind that, either. He acted mature for his age.

  I was attracted to him. A lot. But I wanted to help him, too—and helping him find peace was more important to me. I needed to set my attraction for him aside and help him. That was the greater thing to do.

  “So, in our last session, we left off with you accidentally being poisoned by a drink that was meant for Dylan.” I glanced at him. “How did that make you feel? Knowing that you’d taken the fall for him.”

  He shrugged. “It made me want to bash Clay’s face in when I found out what he’d done, but Dylan’s quick thinking and actions are what saved my life. I felt like I owed him. It was also a big wake up call for me to get out of the drug scene. I don’t think I realized exactly how much I wanted to live until that particular moment when it was all almost taken away.”

  “But it would’ve never happened to you if Dylan hadn’t been in the picture to begin with.”

  “True, but then none of this would’ve. I’d probably be off stoned somewhere, wasting away my life right now, and Cami would be some scarred basket case because Clay raped her or something.” He stared pointedly at me. “You would be at the bottom of a lake. Our lives are better because Dylan came into them. Nothing will convince me otherwise.”

  “You love him a lot, don’t you?”

  “More than my own life,” he answered without hesitation. “He’s my brother, just the same as if he were born that way.”

  “So what happened after Clay?” I encouraged him to continue.

  “Well, Cami and I graduated from high school and we followed Dylan back to his hometown of Tucson, Arizona. She and I both enrolled in school there and Dylan continued doing undercover work as a police officer, infiltrating a car theft ring. For the most part, I was on the outside of that case, though there were a couple scary close calls for Cami and Dylan. They ended up getting married during all that, which didn’t really surprise me.” He paused and grinned, showing me he was truly happy for his friends before his smile faded. “It was after that case wrapped up that they started having problems again.”

  “What do you mean by problems?”

  “Dylan decided to change careers and become a firefighter. Cami was always worried about him getting shot, so he became a firefighter; and so did I. Weird things started happening and it soon became apparent that someone was harassing them. Their dog was slaughtered on their back porch and then someone set their house on fire and burned it down. Dylan and Cami were put in a protection program and sent away while the police tried to figure out who was behind it.”

  “And this is where,” I glanced back at my notebook. “Where Gabby came in. The girl you’d previously been sleeping with?”

  “Yeah, I sure know how to pick them, don’t I?” He ruffled a hand through his hair. “Gabby always wanted Dylan, from the very beginning. She was sleeping with Clay, too, while the two of them were trying to split up Cami and Dylan in high school. She had no clue Dylan was an undercover cop until Dylan arrested her. Apparently jail time didn’t stop her delusions. After she found where Cami and Dylan were hiding, she went to the cabin and shot Cami in the stomach.” Pausing, some heavy anguish passed over his features. “Cami was pregnant and the baby died as a result. Cami almost died, too.”

  “So was there a manhunt for her?” I continued to prod him along before he got too caught up in the emotions.

  “Yes, but Dylan found her first, at a store across the street from the hospital that Cami was in. Gabby attacked him and he shot and killed her. We thought that was it. We all thought it was over—that it was done.”

  “But you were wrong.”

  “So wrong. Derek came out of left field. None of us knew that he was still in touch with Gabby and that the two of them had planned this elaborate scheme. He blamed Dylan for his brother’s death because Dylan sent him to jail and cut off their family revenue. We had no idea that when he was selling drugs in high school that it was to help pay for cancer treatments for his little brother. Why didn’t his family just say something? Hell, we could’ve organized a benefit for them or something.”

  “Sometimes when people are under that kind of pressure, they don’t act rationally.”

  “Well, he was certainly beyond rational. He kidnapped both Dylan and Cami. I think he intended to kill them both, too. He just wanted to make Dylan suffer as long as possible. And he did.”

  His face got a pained faraway look and I knew he was reliving those events.

  “When I walked in on that scene, I didn’t even recognize Cami—she’d been beaten so badly. The color of her hair was the only thing that hinted to her identity. And Dylan . . . I’ve never seen him so afraid in his life. I could taste his fear—it was that strong.”

  “I bet that was hard for you, knowing that he was your personal hero, someone that you looked up to. What were you thinking at this point?”

  “I was thinking I needed to stall for time long enough for my shift partner in the truck outside to figure out something had gone wrong.” He shook his head, giving a wry grin. “It sure as hell took him long enough.”

  “Did you think you were going to die, Russ?” I asked the hard question, point blank.

  Staring straight at me, the grin faded and tears filled his eyes. “Yes. I knew it the moment I sat down in that chair and began tying myself up with Derek holding a gun on me.”

  “And you made the choice to stay anyway? You could’ve run.”

  “No,” he choked out, almost in a whisper. “He would’ve killed them right then if I had.”

  “But at least you might have escaped and been safe. Why not do that? Why not protect yourself?”

  “Because I wouldn’t have ever been able to look at myself in the mirror again, knowing I ran.”

  “People come and go, Russ. It’s okay to try and save yourself.”

  “I
wouldn’t want to live in a world that they’re not a part of.”

  “But when it came down to it, Dylan picked you to be the one who died anyway.”

  “He had to. He had to save Cami. He had no choice.”

  “He did have a choice, Russ. And he didn’t choose you. I think this is why you’re having the nightmares. Your subconscious feels betrayed because it knows you would’ve done whatever was necessary to save him, but the street didn’t go both ways for you.”

  “So how do I fix it? How do I make it stop feeling that way?”

  “I honestly don’t know that there is a way. At least there’s no magic switch that will make it all better. It’s something you’re going to have to learn to come to peace with somehow. What would you have done if Dylan chose you over Cami?”

  “I’d have shot Dylan, myself. I love Cami.”

  “Are you in love with Cami?” I asked, noting the way his face softened every time he spoke about her.

  “No. Not in the way you mean. She’s like my sister—my best friend. I’d do anything for her.”

  “Even die?”

  “Yes, even that.”

  “Why? She never rescued you from anything.”

  He stared at me, his eyes almost pleading for me to stop. “She’s my family—they are my family. They’ve been more family to me than my biological family. I love them. Would you die for your family, Doc?” he asked, turning the question around on me.

  “I would.”

  “And could you choose one of them to die so that others might live?”

  He made his point.

  “I don’t know if I could.”

  “I don’t know if I could either.”

  There was the key. “Let me ask you this, Russ. If the shoe had been on the other foot and Derek would’ve made you choose between Cami and Dylan, who would you have chosen to live?”

  Tears dripped over the rims of his eyes, but he never looked away from me. “Cami,” he finally choked out.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Because I know Dylan would never be able to live in a world without her.”

  “Well, there’s your answer. Apparently he felt the same way, too. You just happened to be caught in the crosshairs of a very tragic and dangerous situation.”

  “I know all this. How do I get the nightmares to stop?”

  “You need to find a way to feel like you have control, again—that you aren’t sitting helplessly at the whims of others. I think once you can find that place, you’ll find the memories and dreams hold no power for you anymore.”

  “So, how do I do that?”

  “One day at a time, Russ. One day at a time. But I’ll do my best to help you out with that.”

  Chapter Eight

  Russ

  Evie had given me a bunch of positive mantras to recite whenever I found myself being plagued with thoughts of the past. She was very much about replacing negative energy with positive energy. I often found myself reciting things like, “My family is alive today because of me” and “I deserve to have peace and happiness in my life.”

  I’d felt rather silly when I’d first started doing it, but after a week, I began finding I kind of enjoyed all the positive little catch-phrases. It improved my attitude every time I thought of one, and I could definitely see the value of using them.

  “You are looking more and more like the cat that swallowed the canary every time I see you,” Dylan commented casually, as I entered the kitchen after returning from my jog along the waterfront. “What’s got you so happy lately . . . or is it a who?” He raised an eyebrow, staring pointedly at me.

  I shook my head. “Just happy to be alive and enjoying life.” Grinning, I winked at him, setting my water bottle down on the counter and doing a few after-run stretches.

  “Are you still seeing Evie?” he asked, and I nodded, some of that happy fading a little inside me. I hated misleading him about her.

  “You should invite her over for dinner sometime this week, since we have the next few rotations off.”

  “Uh . . . .” Shit. Now what should I do? “Um, her schedule is pretty busy. I don’t know if she’d have time,” I stalled, panicked.

  “Call her up and ask her.”

  “Right now?”

  “Yes, right now. Ask her if she’d like to come here for dinner tomorrow night with Cami and me, too. It’s about time we got to know her a bit if you’re going to keep seeing her. Or are you keeping her to yourself for other reasons?” His smile widened suggestively.

  “No, no, nothing like that. We are still just getting to know one another.”

  “Well, give her a call and we’ll all get to know her.”

  “Shouldn’t we ask Cami first?” I was literally grasping at straws. “She may not be too happy about having a dinner party without us even telling her.”

  “Whatever. You know she’d love it. That girl is constantly in matchmaker mode when it comes to you.”

  “I’d feel better about it if we asked her first.”

  “Fine,” Dylan replied, dragging his phone out of his pocket.

  “Wait!” I almost shouted, still trying to stall him. “Didn’t she go to the Firemans’ Spouse’s meeting? You don’t want to interrupt her.”

  “That was over thirty minutes ago. She called to say she was stopping by the grocery store and then she’d be home.”

  Damn. I waited, knowing exactly what Cami’s answer would be; so it didn’t surprise me one bit when Dylan hung up sporting a Cheshire cat-like grin.

  “Cami says to see if Evie can come tomorrow. She’ll make Italian for dinner. She’s buying the stuff as we speak.”

  Damn. Damn. Damn. Retrieving my phone from my running shorts, I brought up her information. Thankfully, she’d given me her private number, telling me to call her if I ever needed to. Somehow I didn’t think she meant for me to use it to ask her out.

  “Hello?” Her sweet voice answered on the second ring and, in spite of everything, I couldn’t help smiling. Flashing a look at Dylan, I moved outside onto the porch, not wanting him to overhear this conversation, feeling relieved when he didn’t follow.

  “Hey, Doc, it’s Russ.”

  “Russ, is everything okay?” I instantly heard the tension in her voice.

  “Yes, no—I’m, yeah, everything is fine with me, but I need your help.”

  “Anything. What can I do?”

  “Remember how I told you that Dylan is under the impression you and I are . . . dating?”

  “Yes,” she replied hesitantly.

  “Well, he asked me to invite you to dinner tomorrow night. I’m not sure how to get out of it without clueing him in.”

  She sighed. “I see.”

  “Any chance you’d mind playing along just this once? Cami is making Italian food, which is always good. And it would give you a chance to officially meet Dylan, since he helped in your rescue, too.” All of a sudden, I realized I really wanted her to come.

  “This is very unorthodox,” she replied—hesitant, but it wasn’t a no.

  “Under normal rules, yes, but you have extenuating circumstances. Surely there’s no law about a therapist having a nice thank you dinner with her rescuers.”

  She laughed slightly. “You weren’t kidding when you said you like to bend the rules, were you?”

  “Not even a little.” I was grinning from ear to ear.

  “All right.” She relented. “What time is dinner?” I glanced to where Dylan was watching me through the window, realizing we hadn’t set a time. “How about five thirty? You can come here straight from work.”

  “Okay, that works for me.”

  “It’s a date,” I replied, still grinning.

  “It’s not a date!” she stressed, and I laughed.

  “All right. It’s a non-date.”

  “Yes, it’s a non-date. See you tomorrow.”

  “I can’t wait,” I replied, hanging up and stepping back inside.

  “I’m guessing from your smile she sa
id yes.”

  “Yep. I told her dinner at five-thirty, so she can just come by on her way home from work. I hope that’s okay.”

  “Sounds great to me. Wait! Shoot!”

  “What?”

  “I forgot I have my evaluation tomorrow with the chief from five to six.”

  “So you’ll be a little late. We can wait thirty minutes for you to get home. It’ll be fine.”

  “You sure? I don’t want to make everyone wait on me.”

  “It’ll be all right,” I said. “I’m going to go hit the shower.”

  ***

  I’d been restlessly helping Cami with food preparation and cleaning things up as we worked. Staring out the kitchen window, I noticed immediately when the silver compact car turned into the driveway. Glancing at the clock on the wall, I saw it was only five fifteen.

  “Hmmm. She’s early. That’s a good sign,” Cami said, bumping slightly into my shoulder.

  “Is it?” I asked, reaching nervously for the glass of wine I’d already poured myself in an attempt to calm my nerves.

  “It means she’s anxious to be here, I think. It’s a good sign she likes you. No girl rushes to a date she isn’t excited for.”

  “Either that or she’s trying to get it over with as quickly as possible.” I tossed back the rest of the contents of my glass before heading to the door to greet her, thankful that Cami stayed in the kitchen. Swinging the door open, I caught her just as she was raising her hand to knock. “Gotcha!” I said with a laugh, gesturing for her to enter.

  “Oh, hi.” She smiled and made a sound suspiciously like a short giggle.

  Eyes traveling over her, I would’ve never believed she was a well-revered therapist. Her long blonde hair hung straight down her back and she was wearing a short creamy-colored sundress with tiny flowers on it. The neckline scooped, showing just a small peek of cleavage—and the way the fabric gathered underneath her breasts made them look huge. Dragging my eyes from that spot, I continued my perusal, noting the short length accentuated her long tan legs down to her strappy sandals.

  “You look amazing,” I said, forcing my mind and thoughts to return to her face. Her make-up was light and fresh and I thought she didn’t look a day over eighteen. She totally looked like the kind of girl I normally found myself going for, that whole hot, college age, coed vibe coming off her in waves.