Then again, in all fairness, he couldn’t really blame Dekker; he blamed Jen. She should have warned Dekker not to say anything. Naim really fucking hated that line. He’d been saddled with a name that was not his, by people he did not belong to, and it was insulting to boot: Son of the Moor. Goddamn French assholes would never let him forget he was a refugee, a charity case.
He hated even more that the Frankenstein’s vet joke had made him want to laugh. No one had ever made him want to laugh at that stupid joke before. Why the hell did it have to be a man like this? A normal, real-life-and-part-of-the-world kind of man.
The kind who would never really want anything to do with someone like Naim.
He sighed again and glared at the cigarette between his fingers as he leaned on the balcony rail. Naim hated it when he got this way, morose and angry. He irrationally blamed Deck. His life had been perfectly fine Sunday morning, quiet, peaceful, and fairly predictable. Even the fire could have been considered somewhat predictable with the way things went down in the Bottom. Then this giant, electrifying man had come storming into his world, turning his thoughts and feelings inside out with little more than a smile, a bad joke, and sloppy, silly charm.
Taking one last drag, then flicking the butt over the railing, Naim went inside, threw his empty beer bottle away, and considered another. Deciding against it, he wandered into the living room and flopped down onto the couch again. He thought of strong, muscular arms covered in unbearably soft skin, pink and tan everywhere. His mind wandered to the way the man’s eyes changed from the color of smoke and thunderclouds to sagebrush and were always bright. How Naim had tried so hard and failed so miserably not to look down that long, wide back as they had Deck leaning forward. Deck had what seemed like miles and miles of warm, living flesh, and Naim wanted to taste it. Touch it. Watch it grow damp and flushed, and raise gooseflesh on it with his fingertips.
He groaned, scrubbing at his tired face, and he thought about guilting Jen into checking on his patient for him tomorrow. He dismissed the idea before fully completing it. He got into this mess in the first place because he’d insisted that he was the man’s doctor. He had no right trying to back out of it now just because the thought of seeing Deck again made something in his chest clench and flutter at the same time.
Lying down on the couch, he tried to focus on the match on the telly.
None of the players looked like Deck.
Chapter Three
Naim found Eli and Marie and pushed through the crowded cafeteria to sit with them for breakfast. The three of them usually ate together; they were Naim’s favorite scrub nurses and his only friends other than Jen. Most of the other surgeons would never dream of eating with anyone but other surgeons, but Naim didn’t care much for most other surgeons and their snobbery.
“Morning, Doc.” Eli greeted Naim, always a kind smile on the young man’s freckled face.
“Morning.” Naim sipped his coffee. “And how are you today?” he asked Marie, who was busy sporking yogurt into her mouth. After yesterday’s debacle in surgery, he wanted to know if she was okay.
“Shut up.”
Eli laughed while Naim started, taken aback. “What did I do?”
Marie plunked her pretty blonde head onto her folded arms on the table. “Nothing. Lemme alone.”
Naim looked to Eli for help, but he was useless, chortling away like an idiot. “What the hell, you two?” They were being annoying, but he worried that Marie might spork herself in the eye as she groaned into her arms.
“Sorry, Doc.” Eli laughed. “It’s not your fault. Marie just has a crush is all.”
“Shut. Up.”
Naim squinted. He was fond of Marie and she was usually fantastic at her job, but she was completely man crazy. Eli always complained that when they went out, she never failed to ditch him for some goon she’d just met. The one time they’d talked Naim into going out with them, sure enough, they lost her after twenty minutes. Eli went home to his girl-or boyfriend du jour, and Naim went home alone.
“Right. Of course.” Naim looked heavenward.
“She’s upset because it looks like you got there first.” Eli’s bright green eyes sparkled; he enjoyed irritating Marie just a little too much.
“I—What?”
“Eli, stop,” Marie whined, lifting her head. “He’s gay. That’s all I said. All’s I said was, he’s gay.”
“That’s not all you said. You said, he totally tried to mack on Naim and that he asked you thirteen times when Naim was coming back, so all your hair twirling and lip biting was for nothing. That’s what you said.” Eli faced Naim, giggling like he got the joke. “That’s what she said.”
Marie hit her head on the table again, gripping her spork.
Naim shook his head and went back to his breakfast. “You two are idiots.”
Then he stilled as he had a horrifying thought. “What…do you mean…?” He stared at Eli. “‘He tried to—’” He couldn’t bring himself to say it. “Marie.” She wasn’t listening. “Ma-rie.” Naim yanked at her ponytail, and her head jolted up as she looked anywhere but at Naim. “What are people saying?”
“Um…nothing?”
Naim glared violently.
“Um…”
Eli stopped laughing, but it was clear he was having a difficult time keeping a grin from his face. “It’s no big deal, Doc,” he said, trying to rescue Marie, who had turned bright pink and was grimacing.
Naim turned to him, nostrils flaring, and Eli’s grin fell away.
“Uhh…it’s just…a few people heard that uh…”
“What?” Naim inhaled deeply, trying not to lose his shit completely.
“The hot firefighter…you know the one…”
“I know the one.”
“Well, I guess he likes you is all.” Eli shrugged.
“Is all?”
Eli squirmed miserably under Naim’s piercing stare. “We just…well, Marie heard that he, ya know, got a little flirtatious with you yesterday.” His eyes were wide, and he shifted in his seat again.
“Is that all you heard?”
“Well…yeah. I mean…” He waved both hands in Marie’s direction. “I heard it from her so—” He threw Marie under the bus and ran for cover. She curled her lip at Eli as Naim turned to her.
“And?”
“And nothing.” Marie snapped. “I was in there this morning and he’s stupid hot, so I was flirting.” She faced Naim head-on and continued. “But he just kept asking me about you and when you were coming back to check on him, so I figured he was gay, and gave up.” Naim eased up on his jaw, afraid he would break a tooth if he gritted any harder as Marie babbled on. “Leah was in there with me, and when we left, she told me she’d heard something about him saying all kinds of crazy things to you yesterday.”
“Crazy things like what?” He was slowly regaining control after the initial panic.
“Jesus Christ, Naim, unclench. So a guy flirted with you. Why the hell are you so bent out of shape?” Marie had gone from humiliated to annoyed in one minute flat. “You do live in the world, ya know. This kind of thing happens all the time.” She started to gesture and wave her spork around as Eli looked on. “People meet, they flirt, they fuck, and they fall in love. Or they don’t. It’s just Wednesday, Naim.”
Eli watched them like he was watching the National Geographic Channel as Marie got louder, more animated and more aggravated. Naim just stared, his face implacable.
“You’re a hot, awesome guy.” She wagged her spork in his face. “He’s a hot guy who could possibly be awesome, and you’re both queer, so why not stop bitching and freaking out and making us feel like we did something wrong and fucking just go talk to him or something. God.” She threw the spork onto the table in punctuation and folded her arms across her chest, giving Naim her best bitch face.
Naim blinked slowly three times. Eli watched on, still as death, and Marie managed to somehow bitch up her bitch face and stare Naim down.
Naim got up from the table and left.
He’d been staring at the computer screen for the past twenty minutes pretending to chart when his phone vibrated. He checked the screen: Marie. He contemplated ignoring it, but it was just a text. He tapped the icon.
You’re a stupid asshole. I love you. Xoxo.
Naim smiled thinly and put his phone down. He’d reply later; let her sweat it out a bit longer.
He sat in his usual spot at the nurses’ station on the surgical floor. It was quiet here. Most of the patients were either unconscious or just coming awake before being moved down to post-op. People were being cut open all around him, yet it was peaceful.
He thought about Marie and what had happened this morning.
When he left the cafeteria, he’d found the first restroom he could and, much to his chagrin, had hidden in a stall. He had to think and couldn’t face anyone he knew. He’d stood leaning against the door for fifteen minutes before a kind young voice called to him. “Sir? Sir, are you all right?”
Sometimes the random thoughtfulness of strangers was all it took to undo him, and tears had sprung to his eyes.
He’d choked out that he was fine, thank you, and waited for the teenager attached to the voice to leave. He stepped out, splashed cold water on his face, picked up his bag, and headed for the residents’ lounge, shoulders square. Down the corridor, in the lift, through the hallways, in the lounge, and the locker room; he walked, greeted people, changed his clothes, received a pile of files, and headed up to the surgical ward, and not once did someone point or laugh or snicker at him.
Leaving his files, he checked on three patients and the surgical board for the day; nothing scheduled, but he was on call for emergency procedures. He wandered all over the hospital, going through his day like a real person, and no one said a thing.
No one giggled behind his back.
He wondered if possibly, maybe, he might have slightly overreacted. A tiny bit. Or worse—what if there was a chance that Marie was right?
He turned those thoughts over in his mind, not daring to go any further with them, when a shadow hovered over him at the desk and he looked up.
“Laura.” He immediately grew anxious.
“Hey, Dr. Moreau. I hope I’m not bothering you. The nurse in the ER said you were up here.”
He stood, instantly alert. “Is everything okay? Is someone hurt?”
“No, no, nothing like that. Everything is fine. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just wondering if you had a minute.” She wore her full uniform, and the walkie Velcroed to her jacket crackled and buzzed loudly. She looked around sheepishly and turned the volume down.
“Sure, sure,” Naim replied, smiling to himself and coming around the desk. She was such a pretty woman with her olive skin and dark green eyes; he wondered absently if she and the lieutenant were a couple. He hoped so; they looked like they’d make a nice couple. “Come, follow me.”
They walked down the corridor to the surgeons’ lounge where three other doctors were milling about, just going into or coming out of surgery.
“Coffee?”
“Oh wow, yeah, please.” She had shadows under her eyes, and her hair was an unruly mess.
“I’m surprised to see you working,” Naim said. “I figured you worked first watch since you were after shift yesterday morning.” He glanced at her as he poured coffee into two paper cups, glad he had just fixed the pot half an hour ago. He indicated toward the sugar and fake powder cream, and she shook her head, reaching her hands out.
“Thank you so much.” She seemed to still be cold from being outdoors, and the coffee must have warmed her. “I did yesterday, but I’m usually on second. I volunteered for first, thinking it would be today, so I could hang out with Deck.”
Naim tried not to look mortified at the mere mention of Dekker’s name. “His squad is on today, so there was no one else. But I screwed it up, and now I’m totally off my schedule, and he’s all alone.” She blew on her coffee.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Naim couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“Nah, it’s not a big deal. He’s a big boy. He can handle it. Besides, I found an excuse to get here so I’ll go harass him after we talk.” She smiled, and Naim took a sip of his coffee, smiling back politely.
Clearing his throat, he remembered his manners. “Would you like to sit down?” He gestured toward a beige café table and chairs.
Laura nodded and almost plunked herself into the chair. She took her police cap off and tried to smooth back the wild black curls she’d apparently attempted to braid at some point in her shift.
Sitting across from her, he sipped at his coffee and smoothed his own black hair away from his face, mirroring her gesture and beginning to feel self-conscious. “So. What can I do for you?” he asked, his toes curling in his shoes from anxiety. He didn’t even know this man, Dekker, and he’d already caused Naim more distress than he ever allowed in his life.
“Well, I’m not sure exactly. Like I said, I was sort of looking for an excuse to get here, but there’s something that Lieb and I were talking about last night.”
That sounded like a couple, and Naim might have grinned were it not for his churning stomach. Instead, he raised his coffee and his eyebrows.
“You’re on the board of the clinic, isn’t that right?” Laura asked, and Naim blinked. That was not at all where he’d thought she was going to go, but he was grateful.
“Y-yes, I am actually,” he stammered slightly. “Only because it was my baby though.” He glanced at his hands.
“Right, that’s what I heard.” Her expression showed sympathy. “I mean that’s what Keller told Lieb.” Naim cringed inwardly. His world was getting too small, too fast.
“Doctor, do you—” She paused and hesitated. “Is there anyone down the Bottom that maybe…might not…” She stopped, sighed, then tried again with more conviction. “Is there anyone that might have had something against you or the clinic?”
Naim’s vision narrowed as he suddenly understood what this was about. “Of course. More than one person for that matter.” Naim’s foot started to tap. “We had three detox beds, so the slingers hate me. Wes Rizel wants to buy the property since he owns most everything else down the Bottom in anticipation of the university expansion. And half the child-abusing animals have sworn to get me because I call Child Services three times a week.” He snorted and shook his head. “That’s just off the top of my head.”
Laura sighed, nodding.
They were quiet for a long time, both thinking, but neither particularly wanting to speak their thoughts. Finally, Naim broke the silence.
“You think someone burned down my clinic.”
“We think it’s a possibility.” Laura sighed again. “Freya and Spellacy went down to the site yesterday afternoon. They both said the point of origin looks too concentrated, and the fire spread way too fast. You were running a clinic, not a meth lab.” She looked at the table, frowning.
Naim stared at his hands, his mouth tight.
“Liebgott called a friend of his last night.” Laura’s voice sounded something like hopeful. “Dixon’s an arson investigator and is going to look into it as a favor—without it being official or anything yet, ya know, just in case.”
Naim continued to study his hands. “They said it was just the wiring. The building was two thousand years old, the electrical work probably older.”
“That was the initial judgment, yes.” Laura nodded. “But to be honest, that’s the first conclusion of every fire down in the Bottom. Just because. Usually that’s true anyway, but even when it’s not…”
“No one gives a shit,” he finished for her. “This is the Bottom. No one cares what goes on down here.”
“I’m so sorry, Dr. Moreau. I know this must be awful to hear.” She looked helpless as she touched his hand.
“It’s nothing I didn’t already have in the back of my head.” Naim spoke quietly. “Besides, it’s not like I won�
�t rebuild. We were insured, and I can write another grant because I’m sure as hell not going to let the shit heads scare me away.” His tone matched his mood: serious but wry, bothered but not frightened. He sensed that Laura respected that as she looked at him intently.
“I can help.” She smiled at him. “I’m just a beat cop, but I can keep my eyes and ears open, and I’ll talk to some guys at the station.”
“I appreciate that. I take it pretty personally when someone actually burns my shit down.”
“I don’t blame you. I think I’m taking it a little personally too. I don’t just work in the Bottom. It’s also where I live.” She stood, picking up her cap, and Naim stood with her. “I’ll keep you posted. We should hear something from Dixon soon. Likely in the next day or two.”
“Good, thank you.” As they walked out, Naim took a pad and pen out of his pocket and wrote his mobile number. “Call me whenever, and of course let me know if you need my help with anything. Lieutenant Liebgott as well.”
“Thank you, Dr. Moreau.” Naim was startled when Laura leaned over, placed a hand on his arm, and kissed him on the cheek.
He surprised himself by grinning. “Naim,” he said, and Laura cocked her head. “Please call me Naim.”
“You sure?” she asked. Naim laughed softly and nodded. “Okay…Naim. Shit,” she muttered over her phone.
“Huh?”
“It’s already 11:30.” She looked up grimacing. “I promised Deck I’d be in to see him half an hour ago.” Looking back down at her phone, she grumbled, “He’s sent me like, three hundred texts. Jesus, you big baby. Get a grip.”
Naim bit the inside of his cheek, trying not to laugh even as his stomach churned again.
“I better go. Thanks again, Doct—Naim.” Laura’s lips twitched, and she turned to leave; then she turned right back around, one finger in the air. “Um…”
Naim leaned against the nurse’s station desk and folded his arms, waiting patiently. There it was.
“Are you…um…have you…you haven’t, have you?”
Naim deliberately looked blank. He liked her a lot, but he wasn’t giving her this.
Smoke and Mirrors Page 5
