by Reina Torres
She still had her gun.
“You come to me because I can get you what you want, when you want it. That’s why you’re going to pay me what I’m asking for.”
Pilar heard some grumbling and then some shuffling noises, like feet on loose gravel.
“Call me when you need more. I’m like a Walmart Superstore, man. I’m open all night.”
“I won’t need any more after this, I’m almost back to full strength. I just need this to get back on the clock. You won’t see me again.”
This was when she should have stepped in, or would have if she intended to make an arrest, but there was something in his words, something in the tone of his voice, that made her think this was more than just a simple drug sale. Something she wanted to get to the bottom of.
Laughter reached her in the alleyway.
“Sure, buddy, sure...”
Even before the sound dissipated, a figure appeared in the opening between the buildings. And that figure stopped short just out of reach, his right hand suspiciously deep in the pocket of his leather jacket.
“Hey,” he smiled, “you’re uh... you’re Vitalia’s friend.”
She nodded. “Hey, Seth. Yeah, that’s me. But maybe you didn’t hear that I’m with CCPD.”
He tried to keep his expression even, but she could see the tight skin at the corners of his mouth. What made more of an impression on her were the dark smudges under his eyes and the bone deep pain she saw in them.
“You going to arrest me?”
That was the question of the day, wasn’t it?
It was the question she was going to keep asking herself until she had more information. “Have you had anything to eat today?”
She hadn’t meant it as a dig, but his downcast look and the huff of breath he let go of said he’d taken it that way. Pilar couldn’t help the way he reacted to her question, but the next move was her decision. “I didn’t get to eat yet either. Why don’t you come with me to the coffee shop? We’ll talk, and we’ll go from there, okay?”
Seth almost jumped out of his seat when the waitress turned his coffee cup over so she could fill it from the carafe she had in her hand. Looking across the table at her, he mouthed the words, ‘I’m sorry.’
She nodded.
Pilar could understand how worried he was. He was sure that she had his life in her hands. As a member of the CCFD, if he was found with illegal narcotics, he’d be on suspension.
More than once, and it was an almost automatic dismissal.
“I thought you said you were almost back up to speed.”
He barely managed to lift one corner of his mouth. “That’s not a drug joke, right?”
“That’s not one either.”
“Yeah.” He folded his hands in his lap. “Yeah, sorry.”
“Why are you buying on the street?”
There was a long moment of silence, and then he leaned forward, almost touching his chest to the edge of the table. “You’re kidding right?” He looked at the tables around them, but no one seemed to be paying attention to them. She wouldn’t have asked him that if she thought they were, but he didn’t know her well enough to trust her.
And the same rang true for her as well.
“Look, I’m going out on a limb here. I’m asking because I want to know so I can figure out if I can help you, or if we’re stuck with one ending to this, because I hope that’s not true.”
“You’re trying to tell me that you’re ‘not’ trying to get me in trouble here?”
She nodded, her eyes fixed on his. “That’s exactly it. Lia’s a friend of mine. My best friend here in Center City. She thinks the world of you and Isaac.”
“She likes me, but she’s in love with Faust.”
His expression and the tension in his shoulders eased. The neutral topic was what did it. So, she kept it going.
“I haven’t asked her about it, but I’m curious. Where does the name ‘Faust’ come from?”
A softer smile touched Seth’s lips. It was the first real smile she’d seen from him. She couldn’t see the pain on his face anymore.
“Do you know the story of Faust?”
She shrugged. “Sort of.” She just wanted to keep him talking so she could learn more about him, gauge his feelings and personality.
“Faust made a deal with the devil and got everything he wanted.” His smile stretched ear to ear. “Just like Isaac. He got into the CCFD Academy on his first application. Passed the Academy with flying colors, and ended up at Twenty-Nine which is where he wanted to go. Youngest guy in a hundred years to make Lieutenant. He fights fires like he was born to it.”
She tilted her head and looked at him. “Okay, that’s all pretty general stuff. Sometimes firefighters get their names from specific moments. I’m getting the feeling that was what happened with Isaac.”
That haunted look was back in his eyes again, as if the pain was heavy on his shoulders, weighing him down. “It was my fault. It always is. We went into a house and smoke was rising faster than we’d expected. There was supposed to be someone in a bedroom on the top floor in an old Victorian. They have all those stairways and... and I got turned around. Lost in the smoke. I was stupid. Didn’t call for help. Toughed it out until I realized my tank was about empty. That’s when I put in a call.
“Isaac was the first one to reach me. That’s when the floor opened up beneath us. We dropped down into the belly of the beast. Flames above our heads. It felt like a fucking furnace about to cook us. I tried to get up, but my leg was numb. I’d landed on my hip or my ass and pinched a nerve. I knew I was done for. Ready to lay back and let go. There wasn’t any way out of it for me. And I told Isaac that. Told him to go.”
He reached for his coffee cup and picked it up from the saucer but couldn’t seem to raise it to his lips. He set it back down, rattling the cup on the saucer.
Pilar took her cup in her hand and took a slow sip. “I’m guessing he dragged you out of there.”
Nodding, Seth swiped the back of his hand over his eyes. “We had three good legs for two men, and he carried most of the weight. Halfway out, when I could hear him gasping for breath, his own tank getting low, he told me, ‘I’m gonna put you on a fuckin’ diet when we get home.’”
Pilar set her cup back down. “And did he?”
He shook his head. “It was bluster. Just talk. We’re both in really good shape, but muscle is heavy. And we’ve gotta keep up our muscle tone to do our jobs. Isaac walked out there without a scratch. He’s never gotten a scar. I bet he’s never gotten a splinter at a fire. The rest of us all have our share. So yeah. I called him Faust. The name stuck.”
“And your injury now? You got that on a rescue?”
“And I knew that Faust would pull me out of that wreck as long as I held on.”
“And the drugs?” The words were rolling out of her, keeping him off-balance, with momentum on her side, so he’d tell her what she needed to know. “Is that you holding on?”
“The drugs aren’t for pleasure,” he ground the words out through clenched teeth. “I take them so I can make it through PT. I take them so I can get back that muscle I lost when I was laid up. I take them so I can get back on crew and save lives. So, I can watch his back. They don’t affect my judgement.”
Pilar pressed her lips together and then released them. “They’re already affecting your judgement if you’re buying off the street.”
He twitched and his feet shifted under the table. “My doctor won’t prescribe more and I need it to keep the pain away. I’m close, so damn close to ready.”
“You’re not. Not if you’re forcing it with medication, you’re not. You keep blanking out the pain, you’re probably doing more damage to yourself than what you think. If you’re not following your doctor’s advice. Seth,” she reached across the table to touch his hand but he pulled away, “you can’t keep doing this. Taking the meds to do your PT isn’t the answer. You’re just punishing yourself. What happens when you get back on
crew and something happens and you’re not at your best? You’ve been covering with the meds, and you’re not strong enough to do what you need to do.”
The waitress arrived and set his hamburger in front of him and her fish and chips in front of her. Pilar thanked the waitress, completely aware of Seth’s silence. When the waitress was gone Pilar reached for the ketchup and pepper, squeezing a whole lake onto the side of her plate, and then adding a dark layer of pepper on the top. Once that was done, she picked up a piece of breaded fish. She was just about to dip it into the mess when Seth pulled her plate away.
“Don’t do that.”
Pilar nailed him with a look. “Do what?”
“Ruin those fish strips. There’s tartar sauce in a cup on your plate.”
“Then you eat it,” she growled at him. “Give me back my plate.”
His laughter was barely a snort. “What are you going to do? Shoot me?”
Without saying a word, she pulled back the side of her jacket and showed him the butt of her gun.
Seth paled and pushed the plate back across the table.
“That’s what I thought.” She dredged the fish in the pepper and ketchup and with her eyes on him, she took a big, gaping bite.
And then almost choked on it.
It took Seth pounding on her back and shoving a glass of water in her hand for her to get everything where it should be. When he was back in his seat, she grabbed up his napkin and wiped at her eyes as well as her mouth.
“That’s not funny,” she glared at him.
“Oh yeah, it was funny.” He took a bite of his burger. “But it’s not going to get me out of this discussion, is it?”
She shook her head. “Nope.”
“I saved your life.”
“This can’t just be laughed off, Seth. You need to talk to someone.” She saw him open his mouth to argue, but she couldn’t let him. “I’m not talking about a professional therapist. At least not now. But you need to tell someone. Like Isaac. You could talk to him. I bet he would understand.”
“No,” he shook his head, “he wouldn’t. Faust wouldn’t get himself stuck like me. He wouldn’t. Talking to him, telling him about this, it’s like I don’t have his back.”
“Better figuratively instead of physically. You said that Isaac pulled you out of that wreck. Don’t you want to be there to do the same thing for him?”
“That’s why I needed...” he lowered his voice and leaned closer. “That’s why I needed the pills.”
Pilar sat back and looked at him, hoping that he’d see the strength of her conviction in her eyes. “You have to tell someone, Seth. What I heard? I can’t arrest you on. If I were to pat you down, that would be another matter.”
She set her food back down. She’d lost her appetite.
“I’ll drive you to the station if you want to see him now. I’ll even drive you to your doctor’s office, but I can’t let you leave here with those pills. Especially if you’re going to drive.”
He must have seen something in her eyes, or maybe it was the set of her shoulders, but Seth reached into his pocket and pulled out a green plastic bag that was dark enough that it couldn’t be seen through. He set them down on the table and flicked them across the center line. “Here. That’s everything I have on me.”
“And the rest?”
“Damn it. Give me a day, okay? Give me a day to figure this out.”
“I’ll give you that, more if you need it, Seth, but if I hear you’re going back on rotation with crew before I know that you’re getting some kind of help, I will call your Captain. I’m not joking.”
His eyes narrowed at her. “I can tell.”
“You deserve to be healthy before you go back on the job, so does everyone around you. Please, don’t make either of us regret this.”
Seth moved his chair back and she reached out and grabbed his hand.
“Hey, where are you going?”
He didn’t seem to have an answer.
“You still have your burger.”
Seth looked down at the plate and then at the door.
She was relieved when he folded back into his chair. Letting go of his hand, she sat back and reached for her fish.
“Gross.”
Pilar looked right into his eyes as she took another bite. Much smaller this time. The last thing she needed was for Seth to save her... again.
13
"Doctor Ashley?”
Roan lifted his head and saw Mrs. Papas and her eldest son walking toward him from the end of the hall. Getting to his feet, he met them more than halfway. Both of them looked as exhausted as he felt. “Mrs. Papas, how are you doing?”
She waved off the concern with a smile that was more bravado than truth. “Oh, I’m fine, just fine now that Spyros is resting.” Reaching out her hand she took his and gave it a hearty squeeze. “We owe that to you, Doctor.”
“Your husband is a strong man, Mrs. Papas. He’ll be just fine once he’s had some rest. Please make sure to follow up with his regular doctors. Okay?”
A shadow passed over her face, and she looked up at her son for a moment before looking back at Roan. “I don’t want him to go back to the Deli. I think...” she shook her head, “I know it’s too dangerous. This is not the first time.”
Roan wasn’t sure if she meant his heart troubles or the robbery, but either one would have scared him if it was his wife working at the Deli.
Or, as a police officer.
He pushed the thought aside as she continued. “I want him to stay home. We hope to have grandchildren soon.” Her son’s face turned a distinct shade of red. “And I want to have them at home with us. To take care of them. To retire.”
Her son nodded. “But Papa isn’t going to want to retire, Mama. He’s already said he has a few more years in him.”
“A few more years,” her bright and hopeful tone was heavy and tight, “if he keeps working himself the way he is, he’ll have a few more years before we put him in the ground.”
Roan didn’t realize that she still had a hold of his hand until her grip became painful, very near to turning his fingertips pale from lack of circulation.
“Please, Doctor Ashley. Won’t you tell him to retire? Won’t you tell him that it’s too... hard... too dangerous to go back?”
He touched his free hand to hers and gently worked her fingers loose until he cupped her hand in both of his. “Mrs. Papas, I understand your worry. I know how much you love him and how much he loves you.” He couldn’t get the image out of his head. Mister Papas reaching for his wife as they loaded him into the back of the ambulance. The anguish he felt, leaving her behind.
Roan knew that feeling.
He somehow made it through goodbyes with Mrs. Papas and her son and found himself walking out into the meditation garden between the hospital building and the Therapy Wing.
There was a nurse on one of the benches, but there was an empty bench in one of the back corners that was blissfully empty.
He managed to remain unseen as he found his way there and settled on the hard concrete bench just as the last few colors in the sky gave way to night.
Roan was just starting to realize how lucky they’d been at the Deli. Lucky that no one had been killed. Lucky that the only person who had been sent to the hospital was Mr. Papas and most of the danger he was in was because of his heart.
Come to think of it, his own heart was in danger. Loss was something he saw every day. It was the nature of his job. Of his calling. He saw people in peril every day.
He saw people at the worst moments of their lives. Car accidents. Injuries that happened at home or on the street. Some of those perpetrated by strangers, some by people they loved.
They came to the ER for help. They came for hope. And sometimes those hopes were answered, but as many as they saved, there seemed to be just as many that they lost.
Medicine had come a long way from the time of Hippocrates, but there was still one horrible constant. You can save some,
but you can’t save them all.
The more time that elapsed from the robbery, the more his emotions were tying him up in knots.
His first introduction to Pilar was when she helped apprehend a suspect at the park, almost right in front of him. It had been as eye-opening as it was exciting. He’d heard about his brother and his sister’s arrests and close calls, but that had always been stories over meals or a beer at a bar. He had to imagine what had actually happened, and no matter how harrowing the events had been, it was through the descriptions of the very people who saw such things every day.
But he’d seen her take a man down, seen him cuffed and removed from the scene. He’d seen her injuries and taken care of them.
And maybe it had felt different because of the endorphins coursing through his blood, or the sudden and undeniable attraction between them.
That hadn’t been the only time that she’d visited the ER for injuries she’d suffered on the job. The times that he’d been the one to give her care hadn’t been the only times that she’d been in.
There were other times where she’d likely hidden her bumps and bruises and taken care of them on her own. He’d seen those, but he’d held his tongue. She was a full-grown woman and his sister was her Sergeant. He felt that it wasn’t his place to say anything.
It wasn’t his place to ask if she was taking every precaution. He trusted that Pilar was taking care of herself.
But as he sat there, he realized that his head was starting to doubt that. It made no sense.
His heart? His heart was echoing the words he’d heard from Mrs. Papas. Was her job too dangerous?
Her life?
Even on leave from the police department, she’d waded right into the middle of a robbery, affecting the arrest of a man with a gun.
She was safe.
That was true.
Pilar was safe.
This time.
The air in his lungs was suddenly gone and the air he could manage to drag into his lungs wasn’t nearly enough.
What if…
One second could have made the difference. A look. A sound. A customer walking in the door.
