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In the Nick of Time

Page 9

by Laveen, Tiana


  “Nick, you bastard…” The guy slammed his fist onto his desk. His lips twisted as if he were in pain. “I wish I could promise you that your job would be here, but I can’t. That depends on the board and you. What you did do at least was save your ass from getting fired.”

  Nick nodded in agreement.

  “This way,” Captain O’Sullivan leaned back in his seat and twirled in his chair, ever so slowly, “After you finish rehabilitation, the board can look at cha and we can all make a decision about it. I’m glad you came to me and you didn’t come up with a dirty test; that would have ruined everything. I don’t want that for you. You’ve worked too damn hard to get where you’re at.”

  “…I know. I knew I had to do something before it was too late. I would eventually get caught; people like me always do sooner or later. I’m not one of these guys out here thinking I’m invincible, that it would never catch up. I knew better…seen it happen too many times. In this process, I’m trying to save my job, you know? It means everything to me, Captain.”

  “Yeah… I know, Nick. I know.”

  “But I’m risking my job, too, because now everyone will know.” Another nasty dose of disgrace covered his pounding heart like tar. “And they might not trust me anymore. They might not give me the good calls, thinking I’m too much of a wuss to handle it, that I’ll go back to using because I’m just a big baby, right? Can’t handle the pressure.” His mind began to play cruel, sadistic tricks on him. For a moment, he had the urge to stand to his feet and bail, hightail it right out of there…but it was too late, far too late. He’d expired like old, rotten milk many lifetimes ago…

  “Is that what you think, Nick? You think everyone is gonna think you’re a coward? You are a person who seems to O.D. on adrenaline. Pretty wrong choice of words, considering why your ass is in my office right now. Anyway, you are a damn daredevil—no one would be afraid to put you anywhere! If somebody is waving a goddamn bomb around, threatening to blow the place up, you’d walk in like, ‘Let’s party, fucker!’”

  Nick burst out laughing. Damn that felt good…

  “It’s true!” His boss grinned real big. “Nobody in this place is going to think that of you, okay? That you’re some wimp—so just put that to rest. You’re brave. Coming to me is brave.” He jammed his fat finger into his proud, poked out chest. “Calling the right people and saying, ‘Hey, I got this problem and need help to fix it.’ It’s brave, damn it! I hate cha for this, and respect you, too. I wish you believed you could have come to me sooner though. I don’t know how long you’ll be gone, if you’re even coming back, and I don’t know how your recovery will go, but I can tell you this much: you’re gonna be missed, Nick. You’re gonna be missed a whole lot.”

  Neither man said anything for a quite some time.

  “Nick…please call me or send an email from time to time if they let you. I would like to know how you’re doing while you’re away, okay? The more I know, the better.”

  He nodded as he got to his feet.

  “I’ll make sure of it.” His hands felt empty without his hat. He’d never risen from that man’s desk without his hat in his grip, and feeling a sense of honor. But in that moment, he’d stood vulnerable, naked, and afraid. Yes, afraid…

  Scared out of his goddamn mind.

  “Can you do me a favor, boss? I want you to do something for me, and I’ll never ask you for anything else again. I promise.”

  Captain John O’Sullivan looked into his eyes for a long time. “Yes, what is it?”

  “Can you tell everyone bye for me? I can’t deal with it right now; don’t have the stomach for it. I need you to tell them sometime today. I’m going over to Firststone after I leave from here, and I don’t want any emotional scenes or anything like that before I head out.”

  “Firststone? You’re going to Fresh Meadows?”

  “Yeah…I think it’s the best place for me. It’ll allow me to leave sometimes to visit people once I earn my privileges. I’d get my own room, things like that, but has enough structure that I don’t lose focus of what I need to be doing. They let you use your phone and everything after a while, too. It’s a long leash, but gets real short if you mess up, and that’s the type of structure I need. Plus, they keep everyone’s stuff low profile. I need to be sorta low-key right now, you know? I don’t want to bring any shame on your department, nothin’ like that.”

  Captain O’Sullivan got to his feet. “There’s no shame in this, Nick. You see you have a problem and you’re addressing it. I respect your decision though to not have this spread around. As it stands, you are on an unpaid medical leave of absence.”

  Nick nodded.

  “Yeah…I got a little money saved up. Not much, but enough to figure out some things.”

  “We are paying part of your fees for your rehabilitation; in this case, Firststone. It’s part of your insurance package, but you’ll still have other bills. Let me help you.” The man reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet.

  “No, I don’t want any of your money, Captain O’Sullivan. Please don’t.” Nick waved his hand at him, wishing he’d put that thing away.

  “I’m not listening to you, Nick,” the man sneered as he slicked his checkbook out of his desk drawer and tore one out. “You’ll need a place to live when you come out. I know you love that townhouse of yours. It’s nice. I’m going to pay for it while you’re away, do ya hear me? But you have to stay in treatment from start to finish.” The guy paused, his brow raised high as he pointed at him. “Use your savings for other stuff. It’s hard out here. You’ll have no money rolling in; you’re gonna need it.”

  “Please don’t do this.” His damn voice cracked. He hated this shit. He’d come a long way from the boy he used to be, the one that begged and illegally ‘borrowed’. He grew to detest handouts of any sort. If he couldn’t get the shit himself, he wanted no part of it.

  “How much is your mortgage, Nick?” he asked calmly.

  “It’s $2,760.00, but I’d prefer you not do that… I’m telling you right now to not do that.”

  “Shut up!” The big man’s voice jolted him. “Don’t say another goddamn word and that’s an order.” He quickly jotted out the first check, then tore it out the booklet. “Later this week, send me the paperwork for where you mail your mortgage payment too, if you do it online or whatever. I’ll mail this first one in though.”

  Nick got ready to protest once again, then thought better of it as the man shot him a death glare.

  “How dare you think I’d just let you drown!” His boss’ eyes turned dark. “You’re like a son to me! I keep tellin’ ya that. Why won’t it sink into that thick skull of yours?!”

  “Pride, I guess.” Nick looked towards the ground, feeling a bit like a child getting a good scolding. He surmised he deserved it.

  “Yeah? Well, get over it. If you were my daughter Bethany, or my son James, I’d do the same. You’ve spent countless Christmases with my family, for God’s sake, Nick! You’ve gone trick or treating with my grandkids as a chaperone. I’m sending a monthly check to pay your mortgage until you get out of Firststone and get on your feet. Is there anything in your house that you need right now, that you may have forgotten?”

  “Yeah… I didn’t pack but I was going to call a friend and have them get some of my clothes for me.”

  “I’ll do it… I’ll have them dropped off later tonight. I’ll also keep your alarm system paid up… lights, water. Now go on.” He waved him off angrily.

  Nick couldn’t help but smile as he turned his back on the man and made his way out of the office. He kept his focus straight ahead, avoiding eye contact with anyone, fearing he might break down, the raw emotions bubble forth, make him melt right then and there. Before long, he stood in front of the building, his hair blowing a million and one directions. He slicked his hands in his pockets and made his way down the street where’d he’d parked his car. Getting inside, he took one more look at the precinct building, then started up t
he engine, headed to Queens. He squeezed the damn steering wheel over and over, feeling things he’d shoved away, compartmentalized; they all came tumbling forward as if a lock had been broken…

  It’s fine…it’s gonna be fine. Don’t back out now, you’ve come too far. You’ve ripped the roof off the truth, showed it to yourself and your surrogate dad…you owe him now, you owe yourself…you can do this, you can… Believe in yourself just this one time, please!

  …And so he continued to drive, giving himself pep talks all along the way until he pulled into the parking lot, and saw the Firststone Medical Center building. His heart heavy, he slicked a cigarette out of his pocket, lit it, and blew smoky circles out the corner of his mouth. A tilted smirk creased his face as he caught his reflection in the rear view mirror.

  “Welcome to your new home, Nick…”

  Chapter Four

  Who…is…that?

  Taryn couldn’t help but stare. Right across the room for morning session was a tall man with lustrous black hair, very thick, slightly unkempt eyebrows and shoulders wide enough to set the world atop. He leisurely moved about, holding a flimsy paper plate with a slice of bagel on it, and a schmear of cream cheese. He appeared rather distracted, possibly even unnerved. He looked about, then decided upon a couple chunks of honeydew melon, too.

  …He must not have had breakfast…

  She stood there, frozen in her paper sack colored smock, large turquoise earrings, and her buzzed hair adorned with a simple gold jewel covered clip.

  I’m underdressed… Didn’t know we had company.

  And she wasn’t the only one taking a gander.

  Some of her associates in the place hadn’t seen a good-looking guy in months, maybe even years. It was apparent by his bloodshot eyes, though—he’d had a rough night or two.

  “Everyone come and sit down,” Frieda announced. Taryn made her way to her seat, sitting prim and proper. “Good morning everyone.”

  “Good morning,” everyone said in unison, minus the new guy.

  “We have a new resident. Would you like to introduce yourself?” Frieda pointed in his direction, but all eyes were already on him, including Oliver’s. The frumpy, disturbed man glared at him with an angry sneer. The new stranger sat there a moment and looked about as if he’d been slightly inconvenienced. He set his plate down beside his foot, brushed imaginary crumbs off his hands and stood ramrod straight. He cleared his throat and rocked back on his heels, like he was some announcer.

  “My name is Nicholas Vitale, but you can call me Nick.” He slicked his tongue over his lower lip, and what a beautiful lower lip it was indeed…

  The man scanned the room as if looking for someone in particular. When he made it to her, he paused. Their damn eyes locked and her stomach somersaulted like Dominique Dawes. He seemed to lose his track of thought, but quickly gained it as he moved past her and continued his visual assessments of the world around him. “I’m here of my own free will.” He rocked back on his heels once again. “I’m addicted to alcohol, possibly cocaine too. The jury is still out on that.” He shrugged his shoulders, smirked, and looked briefly down at his dark brown leather loafers…

  I bet those are LL Bean… not too expensive, not too cheap. Means he is middle class with some taste, but doesn’t spend too much… Eva foam cushioning I bet, too. He likes to be comfortable; maybe used to moving around a lot for his job… He’s built nice. His shirt fits him perfectly; with just enough give to not make it too tight, but enough where I can see the shape of his muscles. He’s tall, slender, but very well built. He definitely works out… maybe his job is physical? Mmmm! What tasty eye candy. Finally!

  She laughed internally…

  “I’m from Brooklyn, grew up in Brownsville, and still live there.” He paused and scratched his elbow, leaned a bit to the side, clearly growing more and more uncomfortable as each moment passed. “I’ve been here for four days, but I’m just now seeing everyone because I was in detox… This is the longest I’ve ever gone without a drink since I began drinking, actually. I’ve been drinking alcohol since age ten. I’m now thirty-two.” His Adam’s apple bobbed about as he swallowed deep and hard.

  “Um, not really sure what else to say.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. His jerky movements told on him, let her know he was nervous, felt out of place. “Oh, I guess I could tell you all what made me turn myself in, so to speak.” A tense smile creased his face. “I started doing things I didn’t remember…and I began to have hallucinations. Not only that, I felt I could endanger others if I didn’t do something about this.” He sighed.

  “Things were getting out of control, I guess you could say.” He clasped his hands together as he stared at the floor, perhaps looking to it for inspiration. “…And I like being in charge of what happens to me and how it happens, too. This was my last time,” he pointed to himself, “being in a position where I could control my destiny because if I had been busted, then everyone else would have been making the decisions for me.” Several people nodded, but Taryn simply sat there, enjoying the sound of his smooth voice, his gorgeous bluish-gray eyes, and the way his furry brows kept dipping when he’d grow silent, seemingly drifting away into his own world. “That’s all I have…that’s it.” He took his seat.

  “Thank you for introducing yourself, Nick.” Frieda nodded and smiled at him before the room lit up with welcomes as well.

  “Welcome, Nick…”

  “Good morning, Nick…”

  “Nice to meet you, Nick…”

  Taryn remained quiet for a long spell, and decided to speak after everyone else had.

  “Hello, Nick. It’s nice to meet you.” She liked how she spoke; it came out perfectly, like a kitty purr and soft feline rub against a smooth leg on a cold winter’s night. The man glared at her the entire time, his beautifully shaped lips slightly parted and his chest rising a bit faster and harder. She broke their mutual trance; turned him loose as she spun away and cleared her throat before clasping her hands around her knee. She swung her foot, dangling her sandal like a carrot, back and forth, back and forth, super satisfied with herself.

  Yeah, it’s thirty degrees outside and I have on sandals. So fucking what…

  “Thank you…”

  She turned back his way then, surprised he’d acknowledged her single reply out of all the ones tossed in his direction. He’d only nodded at the others, but with her, well, he spoke; the beautiful man spoke.

  He ate my little purring kitten with his lion voice…

  She ran her fingertips over her mouth as if he’d just kissed her, and in a way, he had. Now, he wouldn’t turn away and heat filled the room.

  I’ve seen thousands upon thousands of gorgeous men. I’ve posed with them, dated a few male models, too. I swear, not seeing any beefcake can make a woman lose her damn mind! You’d think there was no penis within a thousand miles… Wait, I haven’t had sex in over a year. No wonder I’m a mess. My Lord!

  She burst out laughing, causing people to look in her direction.

  “Oh…I’m sorry.” She faced Frieda, but could feel the man’s eyes still upon her.

  The morning session went on as usual, and she struggled so, like an ice cube under the summer sun to stay afloat, in one piece. Mr. Vitale kept staring at her; it was quite unnerving the way he carried on. She fixed her face just so, pretended to be intrigued by Marquita’s stories of being a bar attendant and drinking the stash. Or by Enrique’s tales of smoking crack-cocaine in between teaching his students and then double crossing a drug dealer, which only left him fired, untrustworthy, penniless and with a broken leg once his supplier caught up with him. She’d heard it all before, and no story, rendition, legend, or saga shocked her anymore. After group was over, it was time for her to make her way to aerobics class. She stood from her seat, her head held high as she glided past the man, putting her all into it.

  I walked for a living…

  I can turn anything into a stage. This is my runway. Watch me show and prove
! Watch this, Mr. Vitale.

  Work it, bitch!

  She gave herself an internal pep talk along the way, stifling her laughter at her utter silliness. It felt fantastic to get effervescent butterflies, a hoopla of childish giggles, and to simply feel alive. The blood in her veins pumped a bit faster; her pussy cried out, sensing the beautiful, fresh meat in the near distance. Nick was cause for celebration. He’d be a welcome distraction, and just maybe, she’d have new friend.

  … A fuck buddy never hurt either…

  That woman has no goddamn hair…

  Nick smirked as he sat there watching her. Her bone structure shook him the hell down. He’d never seen such an impeccable woman. From the top of her perfectly rounded head with a sprinkling of dark fuzz down to her long, well kempt feet, covered in sandals for some odd reason—she was an image of erotic perfection. Her lips were what sank his ship, though… Glossy, full… perfect.

  I bet those big, soft lips would feel so good wrapped around my dick… Damn, she’s fucking gorgeous!

  He was supposed to be in active recovery after four days and three nights of hellish withdrawal. His body became a grave, and detoxing from alcohol proved much worse than he’d imagined. Regardless, he made it through. When he’d initially arrived, he was stripped down and his body and belongings searched. He felt a void—nothing at all. The male nurses patted him down, made him bend over and spread his fucking ass cheeks, told him to cough and all the shit he was accustomed to telling guys he’d just arrested to do. Now, he found himself on the other end of the damn spectrum. After he showered and re-dressed, rigorous testing immediately commenced.

 

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