by J. R. Tate
“Well if isn’t the hero. I told you I’d be back.” Viper smiled, exposing his gold teeth. “You buy me dinner?”
Michael gritted his teeth. “How the hell did you get through without a key?”
Viper wheezed as he laughed. “I called up to one of the residents. Said I was locked out. They buzzed me right in.” He paused. “Now I just gotta find a way to actually get inside your place. This waiting out in the hallway sucks.”
Michael gripped his bag tightly. “And now you can leave.”
“Hell, the hero isn’t even gonna invite me in?”
“No. You need to leave.”
Viper brushed past him and turned around. “You better find Casey. If he doesn’t come out of hiding, you get all the repercussions.” Viper dug his finger into Michael’s chest. “This isn’t just about the baseball series coming up. It goes farther back than that. One McGinnis is good as another. I don’t give a rat’s ass who it is. I either get my money or I get one of your lives.”
Michael pulled away from him, grabbing his finger as he did. He gripped it as hard as he could, feeling instant satisfaction when Viper grimaced and fell to his knees. He let out a grunt. Michael could feel the bone crack under his grasp. “You ever fucking come to my home again and threaten me like that, they’re gonna have to drain the whole fucking East River to find your remains, you hear me?” He felt Viper’s finger go limp and bent it back a few more seconds before finally releasing it. “A broken finger will be the least of your fucking worries.”
Viper glared up at him. It took him a second to gain his composure and stand up. The veins in his forehead were popped out and his complexion was red. Sweat poured from his brow. Standing up, he got right in Michael’s face. “You’ll regret that, Hero. You have no idea who you’re messing with. You better look both ways before you cross the street.”
Michael didn’t back down. “And you better sleep with one eye open.”
He waited for Viper to disappear into the elevator before going into his apartment. He made sure to lock the dead bolt, the knob, and the chain lock. In all reality he really didn’t know who he was messing with so he had to take it all seriously. He had to smile. Breaking Viper’s finger gave him the upper hand. Now Viper knew he wasn’t going to roll over and die. But then again, it probably added fuel to the fire. It didn’t matter, it made Michael feel good.
Grabbing his phone, he quickly dialed the last number Casey had called him from. It wasn’t his usual cell number so he had no idea who this would lead him to. He had to find a way to get hold of him. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to take the brunt of this. In all honesty he preferred to. He was the smarter one who would fight back. Casey was the one who would allow it to happen. Regardless, if they stuck together they could take care of things better. He had to know if he was safe.
Unfortunately, no one answered. The voice mail message was generic and gave him no clues to whose phone it was. Frustration overtook his natural high. His mind raced with possibilities. The police would probably be the best option, but he had no proof of anything. They couldn’t do any more than he was doing by himself.
His adrenaline slowed down and the thought of breaking Viper’s finger finally hit him. Did he seriously just break a man’s finger? He had been in many fights before but he never blatantly broke someone’s bone. The thought of the crunch made him cringe. Nausea overtook him and he wiped his brow with the back of his hand, worrying about what he was capable of doing in the midst of trouble.
He eyed his liquor cabinet. He leaned on the kitchen counter and buried his head in his hands. “One day at a time, Mikey. One day at a time.” He walked past the shelves, closing one of the doors and resisting it. He had to be sober now more than ever.
Chapter Ten
Thunder echoed throughout the walls, rattling some picture frames on the wall. Michael tried burying his head deep in the pillows, but the bright lightning flashes seemed to be flickering right through the fabric. Clenching his eyes closed, he saw Viper’s face. Jolting to a sitting position, he wiped the sweat that gathered on his neck. Rain was trickling down the glass on the window, leaving shadows of water trails on the wall.
Standing up, Michael moved the curtain aside and stared down at the street below. There were still people out and about, despite the severe weather. Shaking his head, he stepped back but stopped himself when he saw someone on the street corner. They had been there for awhile, their gaze upward, almost as if they could see Michael. A hood shielded their face and their hands were inside their coat. Michael couldn’t tell if it was a man or woman. A chill ran down his spine and in the midst of his sweating, he began to freeze. Was it just his imagination? After his visit from Viper earlier, every sound he heard made him jump.
He stayed at the window a few more moments. The random stranger finally turned around and made their way up Forty Fourth Street, not even dodging the puddles as they walked. Wiping his clammy hands on his sweats, Michael opened the bottom drawer of his nightstand and ran his fingers over the nine-millimeter Glock he was suddenly grateful to have. Locking it up would be a good idea just in case Viper got in without him being here, but he also wanted quick access just in case he needed to get to it. Maybe now was the time to get the police involved. His only worry was if cops were in on this, would Casey be in danger of going to jail too?
Michael walked down the hallway, the cold metal of the handgun pressing against his palm. He turned the TV on to The Weather Channel and watched the Doppler scan across the screen. A heavy thunderstorm was blanketing all of Manhattan and didn’t look to be letting up any time soon. Perfect weather for the situation. Michael couldn’t help but laugh at how bad weather always portrayed something scary or suspenseful.
A knock on his front door made his heart beat into overtime. It was three AM. Tiptoeing, he tried to avoid the boards in his floor that always creaked. Maybe if he didn’t make a sound whoever it was would assume no one was around and would go away. He gripped the butt of the gun, taking in a deep breath, trying not to breathe heavily or step hard across the floor. His bare feet dragged on the wood. His palm was sweating against the grip. What was he going to do if it was Viper? Michael wiped his shoulder across his cheek to swipe some of the sweat away.
He was inches away from the peephole and almost let out a yelp when another knock sounded over the thunder. His own breathing sounded like a freight train. He couldn’t control it. It felt as if he had just got done running, and judging from the sweat soaking into his clothes, it wouldn’t be that far fetched.
Michael gently placed his hand on the door, bracing himself as he leaned in to see who it was. Pulse racing, he put the gun at eye level as well, aiming at the unlucky person on the other side. Groaning, he rested his forehead on the door and sighed.
He whispered, “Son of a bitch,” as he unlocked the deadbolt and chain. He opened the door, exposing his younger brother, drenched from head to toe. “Casey, you scared the shit out of me.” Michael stepped to the side, allowing him to come in.
“Judging by the gun and your reaction, I take it Viper has been by to see you?”
“I went by his place Viper. Stood out on the street. None of the lights were on, but I could’ve swore I saw Casey at the stoop.”
Viper paced back and forth, running his hand over the index finger that Michael had broken just hours before. Just thinking about it made him want to kill him off right then and there. “You weren’t sure it was Casey?” Viper’s helper, Jon, had his faults, one being his lack of attention to detail. He should’ve watched Michael’s place on his own.
“I’m pretty sure it was him. He kept pacing back and forth, almost like he didn’t want to go in. He has a key, too. He unlocked the main entrance and didn’t have to buzz anyone in.”
Viper slammed his uninjured hand down on the table, rattling their beer bottles. “Next time I send you to go watch a place, be one hundred percent certain it’s the people we are interested in. What did this guy you think was
Casey look like?”
Jon ran his hands over his goatee. “Dark hair, about five eleven, had a hat on. I couldn’t really see much else.”
Viper nodded. “Sounds like him. At least we know he’s in town. Maybe we can take care of both of them now. I don’t even care if Casey is back and owns up to his debt. Michael is still in the hot seat, bet or not. He should’ve never messed with me like that.”
“The son of a bitch came by earlier. Threatened me again so I broke his finger. Probably shouldn’t have.” Michael paused and put the gun down on an end table. “How serious is this guy, Casey?”
Casey walked farther into the apartment, pacing back and forth. From that, Michael knew how bad it was. “Let’s just say he’s known for this. When he wants something, he gets it. No matter what it takes.” Casey’s eyes drifted to the gun and the living room lit up as bright as day from a lightning strike. Neither of them moved. Their stares at each other remained the same, not even the loud crack of thunder fazed them. “Believe me Mikey when I say I had no idea how deep I was getting into this. This baseball series coming up will help but it won’t be my saving grace.”
Michael felt sick to his stomach. Swallowing hard, anger shot through him. “We’ll get you outta this. I’m involved now too. I sure as hell am not gonna let some piece of shit off the street come in and terrorize me or my brother, you hear?” Deep inside, Michael wanted to ream him for ever taking this on, but it was done with. There was nothing left to do now but fix what was to come.
Michael wasn’t sure what led him to her door. He wasn’t sure why he needed to see her. He wasn’t even sure if he could get up the courage to knock. He stared at the numbers below the peephole as he brought his fist up, hesitating once more before pounding his knuckles against the wood. Standing back, he wondered if she was even going to let him in. Would she even be there?
Heart pounding, he let out a deep sigh when Eva opened the door. She was in a T-shirt and jeans, her hair up in a messy ponytail. She looked amazing and Michael felt a flutter deep inside his stomach. Suddenly he forgot what to say. He couldn’t even think up a quick excuse.
“Michael? It’s good to see you.” She smiled and tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear. “You wanna come in?” It felt as if his legs wouldn’t work.
“I uhh, I’m not interrupting anything am I?” He scanned her living room. There were no signs of anyone else being around.
“No, I was just watching some TV, enjoying the day off.”
Michael nodded and buried his hands in his jacket pocket. Why had he come here? He had gotten antsy sitting alone at home. Every random sound he heard made him jump and reach for his gun. He felt like he was going crazy. He was also debating on whether or not to tell Eva. What good would it do telling her? It would just cause worry on her end. He wasn’t even sure if he fully trusted her. Who’s to say she wouldn’t go tell someone about it? The last thing he needed was all of it getting around the department.
“I won’t be here long, just needed to get outta the house.”
She sat down on the couch and patted the cushion beside her. The same couch they had made love on. The same couch he had experienced one of the best moments of his life. Swallowing, he sat beside her. Would this afternoon be a repeat? Honestly, he wouldn’t mind it. She looked so good. He felt relaxed next to her.
“Mikey, is something wrong?” She reached out and grabbed his hand, her smooth palm like satin against his rough skin. Eva interlocked her fingers with his. It felt electric to have her skin against his.
Looking at her through the corner of his eye, he glanced back at the TV. “What are you watching?”
She kept her grasp on his hand and reached for the remote with the other. “Oh ya know, stupid daytime TV. Divorce Court, Judge Judy, Opera of all things.” She paused and flicked through some channels. “You wanna find something to watch? Or do you want something to drink?”
Michael shook his head no. He watched the TV and an old rerun of “Everybody Loves Raymond” was on. He hadn’t had time to watch TV at all, and forgot how funny the show was. Neither of them said much as they watched, and Michael was surprised to find himself laughing. It felt good. He even enjoyed hearing Eva laugh. Her giggle was enough to make him smile, even when a commercial was on.
“I’m never home to watch this show, but it’s really funny.” He leaned forward and averted his attention away from the TV, looking her straight in the eye. He didn’t feel like himself. Just being in her presence had minimized the tension of the last few days.
Eva leaned in and brushed her lips over his, catching him off guard. It was a pleasant surprise and he kissed down her cheek. He buried his face in the nape of her neck, taking in her scent. She smelled of honeysuckle. It awakened so many memories, mainly of the time that they had slept together. It felt like so long ago. He nipped at her neck and let out a low moan when he felt her body lean back, inviting him to do what he wanted to her. He was shocked by her abruptness in making the first move, but let his emotions get in the way. His guard was down.
Michael felt her breathing quicken and saw the rise and fall of her chest. He hovered over her, bracing one arm on the couch as the other roamed under her shirt. Eva would close her eyes when his fingers lingered under her bra, her eyelids parting every now and then, exposing her hazel eyes. Her lips were pursed and he covered his mouth with hers, the kiss more passionate this time as his tongue parted her mouth.
Her hands guided his shirt over the top of his head and she dug her nails into his back when he found his way below her belt.
“Mmm, Mikey. Don’t stop.” Her eyes were clamped shut, but Michael could tell she was enjoying what he was doing. He kissed her forehead and his mouth began a trail down her face, her neck, to her chest. He could feel her heart beating and that made him speed up, her whimpers turning into pants. She couldn’t control her body as her hips moved in every direction and her fingers clamped onto his shoulders, pulling him down.
Whispering, she opened her eyes to look at him. “Make love to me, Mikey.”
He almost did, but his mind seemed to flip to the morning he saw her outside with the other random guy he had never seen before. Doubt settled in. He didn’t know who he was or what he was in Eva’s life. What if she was playing him? Could she be messing around with both of them? His sudden arousal was killed by those thoughts, and he pushed up off of her and sat up, catching his breath. He couldn’t stand the thought of sharing her.
Eva sat up as well and a puzzled look shot across her face. “What’s wrong?”
For a split second, Michael felt guilty. She had made the first move with him, but he could have easily said no and ended it. Instead, he let it get way out of control. That emotion was quickly replaced with confusion and anger. He reached over and helped her pull her shirt down.
She raked a hand through her hair and fastened her belt. “I don’t… I don’t understand. Did I do something wrong?” Her voice was so full of question and she sounded like she was on the verge of tears.
Michael pulled his shirt over his head. “This isn’t right.” His voice was low and he stared down at the floor. “I can’t do this.” He was going to ask her about the guy at the firehouse that morning, but it didn’t feel appropriate.
Michael stood up to leave, but felt her hand grasp his forearm, turning him back. A few tears were trailing down her face. “Are you getting back at me for not wanting to be with you?” She wiped her face with a tissue.
“I’m sorry, Eva. I just can’t do this. I can’t share you.”
He pulled his arm away from her and made his exit, not even able to look back at her. Regardless of the situation, he felt guilty. He should have never went to her place and allow it to escalate as far as it had. He should have come to his senses before he ever knocked, especially before he ever kissed her. How could he be such an asshole? There was just some form of attraction that led him back. At the same time, maybe deep inside, his conscience was trying to get back at her
for leading him on the way she had, but that didn’t feel right. He had never been the type of person to do that to someone, especially her. He cared for Eva, which made this whole situation that much more shitty. How could he have hurt her? Even if she was seeing the other guy, he couldn’t stand the thought of breaking her heart.
Eva watched Michael walk out and for a split second, debated on following him. She couldn’t get her body to move. She felt humiliated. Was that his sole plan, to come in and embarrass her to get back at her for leading him on the way she had? Michael was never that type of guy. Burying her face in her hands, she allowed the tears to fall down her face, the warmth and moisture soaking her palms.
She could tell the moment he walked in the door that something was on his mind. His body language proved that he was frustrated and needed to talk, but couldn’t find the words. But about what? Surely their problems weren’t consuming him. He was stronger than that.
She grabbed a tissue and wiped some of the smeared mascara away. The tears on her lips were salty and she paused to watch the TV. Everybody Loves Raymond was still on and she quickly turned it off. She didn’t want the reminder of Michael laughing, not after what had just played out. His mood seemed to take a complete one eighty.
What did he mean by sharing her? His last comment had her baffled. There was no other guy in her life. She wanted Michael more than anyone else, even after what just happened. In fact, it had made her want him more. She knew deep down he didn’t mean to hurt her. There was something going on deeper than their relationship. He was one of her best friends.
More tears fell and she stood up, staring out of her window to the street below, wondering if Michael had truly left. A part of her was hoping he would be down on her stoop, but there was no sign of him. He was probably mixed in with the crowd, making his way down the avenue.
