Golden Hour (Crescent City)

by Campbell Reinhardt

  He puts his shaky, pale hands over his face and lets his head roll back on the greasy couch cushion. I listen to a series of low, shaky moans startle from the back of his throat.

  “Listen to me,” I say, yanking him by the arm to get him to look back up. He does, his face crumpled. I wonder if he’s too high to really hear me, if it would be better for me to leave and come back. But the kid is far gone as it is. If he’s in trouble with a dealer, the next time I see him, I might be zipping him into a black bag. “You’ve got one shot. There are people out there who want—” I stop to rephrase. No matter what, I’m not walking out of here holding hands with this asshole. “There are people who are willing to get you some help, and there are people who are willing to use you as a pawn in their end game.”

  “So. Story of my life.” He throws me his best sneer. It’s not all that threatening combined with the snot pouring out of his nostrils.

  There are a thousand things I want to say that would lead to a fight, but I don’t have the luxury to brush this kid off. For my sake, for Elise’s sake, I need to see this through. “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

  He wipes his nose on the sleeve of his shirt, and, for a second, I can see him as the little brother who needs saving. The way Elise sees him. I try to hold onto the image as he snarls, “You don’t know me, or my life.”

  I take a deep breath and prepare to go low, to go somewhere I know will dredge up a lot of crap Lawson probably wants kept locked tight. “I know who your brother was—”

  “You think because you’re getting naked with my brother’s woman that that means you know him? You can’t fucking know Mike. Some trigger happy asshole made sure no one would get the chance to know him again.” He rakes his fingers through his hair and a bitter laugh breaks out of his mouth. “How the fuck does it make any sense that a dirt bag like me can crawl around in the fucking shit like I do, and Mike—the fucking cop, the one with some honor and a future—winds up dead?”

  I hear the pain shredding through him, and I know it. Damn, I know it.

  “I know what it’s like to watch someone good die too soon,” I tell him, Lopez’s cracked, bloody lips and dull eyes flashing through my memory. I bite on the inside of my cheek to fight back the bile that hits low and acidic in my throat. “It’s not fucking fair, and it’s sure as hell not easy to keep going after.”

  Lawson raises one limp hand and makes his fingers into a gun, pulling the trigger as he says, “Bang. That’s the truth. Now if you could leave me to wallow in my own fucked up life, I’m sure the coke or some dipshit dealer looking to settle a score will put me where I belong for good.”

  Was I ever this pathetic? I remember barely being able to sit my ass on a barstool while I demanded another whiskey. I remember passing out in the back of my truck, waking up with random girls whose names I couldn’t recall, trying to shake the skull-bashing headaches that never quite went away. I don’t know why I kept at it, since it never produced the single result I was aiming for.

  I never opened my eyes without remembering that Erik Lopez was dead while I got to live my own piss poor life.

  Would I still be doing what I was doing if Elise Dupuis hadn’t come into my life and snapped me awake? I know, no doubt, the answer is ‘yes.’ Or, worse, I would have drank myself into the ground alongside Lopez, which would have been a waste of two lives.

  I have to convince Lawson that his life could be worth something if he just cleans up his act. I really wish some pretty-eyed girl had come by to take care of this portion, because I’m not sure how receptive he’ll be to my advice.

  “I know the kind of man your brother was. In a perfect world, he’d still be here with Elise. But this world fucking blows sometimes, and he’s not here. But we are. And I’m not giving up on it,” I say, my voice rough. “And I think you and I both know Mike’d be pissed as hell to see what you’ve chosen to do with your life.”

  “Well, good thing he isn’t around to see it, then, right?” Lawson mutters, his eyes cast down at his shaking hands.

  “But Elise is.” I can’t even say her name without my voice cracking. I sense that I’m losing Lawson, and, if that’s the case, that means I’m also losing my last chance—no matter how slim a chance it might be—at taking my life back before it spirals out of control.

  I’m pissed as hell that my fate rests on the shoulders of this addict, but that seems to be par for the course as far as my luck goes. And I’m bound and determined to make this work.

  Lawson shifts on the couch and sniffs, his eerie smile letting me know he’s well aware he has the upper hand in this negotiation.

  “Ah, I got your angle now. You’re trying to play it off like you’re the good guy, swoop in and save the derelict brother of her lost love? Nice. Bet that one will get you a ton of play.” His laugh is scratchy and dry. He finally manages to push himself off the couch and sways on his feet for a few seconds before he stabilizes. “We done?”

  Lawson stumbles over to the door and opens it up wide, signaling he’s ready for me to leave.

  “Not quite.” I press the door closed with one hand, and Lawson backs down. He seemed kind of small on the couch, but I tower over him. He’s no more than skin and bones, his shoulders sunken like he can barely hold up the weight of his own body. “I’m not the good guy, I’m here for purely selfish reasons. I used to be into the shit you are, I used to be angry and didn’t give a shit how my life turned out. Back before I joined the army—”

  Lawson snickers. “So, you’re telling me you want me to run off and become a hero like you? Be all I can be? Some bullshit like that?”

  I slam the flat of my hand on the door, and don’t take as much pleasure as I thought I would watching him jump.

  I get in his face, don’t let him break eye contact, and resolve—here and now, God as my witness—to save this piece of shit, sniveling, back-talking dickhead who’s hurting in a way I understand better than anyone else. I’m sorry this message couldn’t come from a sweet but tough angel of a girl like it did for me, but I’m all Lawson’s got at this point, and I’ll have to do.

  I might be a wash-up, I might have a checkered past and a few brushes with the law. I may have prayed on both knees for my life to end more nights than I could count, but I never ended things.

  I kept on keeping on. Maybe I was too much of a coward. Maybe I knew I was bound to get a little slice of goodness after all the misery I’d endured. Or maybe I’m just a stubborn bastard who refuses to give up.

  I don’t care what the hell it takes—Lawson Bazanac is getting this intervention if I have to force it down his skinny throat with both fists.

  I wrench him by the shoulder, toss him onto the couch, and point a finger in his face.

  “No. I’m telling you that we’re all fucking heroes. Every one of us. For getting out of bed every goddamn morning. Because this world is a fucked-up place, and we’re all broken in one way or another. It doesn’t make a difference if we’re held together with scotch tape or super glue, we’re all just slugging along, trying to keep ourselves intact and make it through the day. So sit down and hear me out.”

  I wait for a few shaky seconds. Lawson looks up, snorts, and pats his pocket for his cigarette pack. He pulls one out and sets it between his lips. It takes four tries before he gets the lighter to take. I watch his face through a cloud of blue-grey smoke, and see the fear and worry click in his eyes. I realize that my one and only chance hinges on the fact that Lawson might be as much of a stubborn bastard as I am.

  “So, Captain, what’s your big fucking plan?”

  “Damn.” I suck a breath in and she turns in a quick circle.

  “You like it? I think it’s a little girly, but Zoe said I need to get out of the habit of wearing jeans and t-shirts all the time.” She smooths the skirt of the red flowery dress she’s wearing and gives me this shy smile that pile drives my heart.

  “Like it?” I pull her into my arms, running my hands over the soft fabric and he
r softer skin. “I like it so much, I think you should take it off right now. Just so it doesn’t drive me too crazy.” I kiss along her neck and my heart stutters when she laughs and throws her arms around me.

  “You can take it off later. Right now, you’re taking me dancing. And, look, I know karaoke isn’t your thing, but I maybe you can drink a few beers and think about a duet with—”

  “Elise.” I hold her shoulders and shake her gently. She stops chattering and looks at me, those big eyes so trusting, so excited. Fuck, this sucks. This really sucks. “My plan was to take you out, have a great time, and then have this talk. But I’m not gonna do that to you. Truth is, there’s no one in the world I trust more. I need to be honest with you. And I need to ask...I need to ask you to do something for me if you can.”

  She’s not pissy. She doesn’t throw it in my face that she wanted to go out and I promised her. She just tugs on my hand and leads me down to the dock. We sit, side by side, and she takes a deep breath.

  “Before you say a word, you know I’ll do anything for you, Caleb. Anything.” She nods, like she wants me to be triple sure about this point. “Go ahead. Tell me.”

  And I suddenly don’t know what to say.

  The truth is, I don’t really know where to start, and there’s not all that much I can tell her without sealing my fate. Which will irritate the shit out of her. Elise is the kind of person who likes to hear every detail—twice—then make a plan and get it knocked out by shift’s end. It’s one of the things I love about her, and one of the things that’s made taking it easy and just doing nothing on off days nearly impossible. I’ve been trying to get her to tone her need to plan down.

  Now I hope she can let go completely and trust me.

  I’m well aware that’s a lot for someone like me to ask someone like her.

  “You know about that shady past of mine,” I begin. She nods, looking right at me. I wish I had the guts to look back. Instead, I face the still water under us. “You’d think going halfway across the world for a couple of years would be enough time and distance to outrun it all. The honest truth is, I really thought I had. But I guess you can never outrun bad shit. You gotta turn and face it before it bites you in the ass.”

  Elise takes my hand and squeezes. And then she does exactly what I expected. “Okay, tell me who and what is going on. How can I help? How can Charlie help? And my father. My father was the lead detective in a gang prevention force. Is that what this is? Do you still have ties—”

  “Elise.” I press my fingers to her lips and her eyes well up right away.

  She shakes her head so fast her hair flies back and forth. “No. Don’t push me away. You need my help. You asked for my help!”

  “I asked for you to do something for me,” I answer, my voice as heavy as my heart feels. I put a hand up to her beautiful face, already tensing with worry and panic. I can’t imagine what my going to jail would do to her. So I’m not going to think about it. I’m going to figure this out, no matter how trapped I feel.

  “So ask me,” she lashes out, furious and sad all at once. “You don’t want my help, so what do you want?”

  “What do I want?” I pull her into my arms. She’s stiff at first, but her limbs go loose when I rub my hands along her back, and she finally relaxes against me. “I want to move in with the woman I love. I want to wake up and make her breakfast every morning. I want to get her to come back to bed for a few minutes instead of forcing me on a jog at dawn. I want you, Elise.”

  “The girl you...love?” Her voice shakes around the words. She tries to bite back a smile, but she’s wholly, beautifully unsuccessful.

  “I wanted to tell you with a little more romance.” I swallow hard and clear my throat. “Elise, I’ve loved you for a long time. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone else. And that’s why—”

  She tugs my face toward hers and kisses me, her lips and tongue quick and desperate, her hands working fast to pull at my clothes and run over my skin. I let it go for a few minutes that I desperately want to drag into a few hours.

  “Hey, sweetheart, stop,” I say, kissing her temple as she collapses against my chest, her breath ragged and her body trembling. “I need to finish.”

  “I don’t want you to.” She chuckles. “Or was I not clear enough?” When she turns to look at me, my heart aches for her. “I love you, Caleb. I don’t want to hear what you have to tell me.”

  “Then we’re at a crossroads, Elise. Because I have to tell you.” I close my eyes and wish it wasn’t this way. “I have to tell you because I love you. And I don’t need you to fix this, but I need you.”

  “What do you need?” She nestles close to me.

  “If you hear bad shit about me, I need you to remember that I’m not who I was in the past. And I want you to know I never lied to you or held things back. Ever.”

  This isn’t fair to ask, but I do it anyway.

  “Of course,” she says, nodding. “What else?”

  “If you don’t hear from me for a while, I need you to trust that I love you. I’ll tell you right now, one hundred thousand beats a day, one hundred thousand days from now, I’ll still love you with all I have.”

  “How long are we talking here?” she asks, her voice so quiet, the chirp of the cicadas almost drowns her out.

  “I don’t know.” I clear my throat. “While I’m figuring shit out, I need you to trust I’ll be fine. I’m gonna...I have to take another job.”

  She sits straight up. “What? Why? You’re an amazing EMT. You can’t just leave!” She presses her eyes shut tight and whimpers. “Damn it, Caleb, you need to tell me what’s going on.”

  “Believe me, if I could, I would. I need you to trust me.” I cup her chin and turn her face to me. “Can you promise me? I know it’s a lot to ask. Probably more than I should. But I woke up because of you. I’m alive because of you. Now I’m gonna fight like hell for the life we could have.”

  “We, Caleb. The life we could have. I know whatever you’re going through might feel like something you have to do on your own, but there’s no way I could hurt you. I can only help. My family is in law enforcement. Whatever you’re worried about, they can find a way to help you.” She looks at me, her eyes begging me to reconsider.

  I have never wanted to throw an asshole under the bus the way I want to throw Charlie Dupuis down. But I know damn well if I tell Elise, she’ll confront him and the ‘evidence’ coupled with his word will land me in jail. Which will break her heart and ruin my future.

  “I don’t want this. Please know I don’t want this, not this way,” I tell her, but she looks at me with so much hurt and confusion, I have this sick feeling I might lose her anyway.

  Which would make Charlie happy as a pig in shit.

  “So don’t do this, this way.” She holds her hands up. “Easy,” she whispers.

  I shake my head. “Elise, you know how hard I worked to get my shit straight. You know I trust you with my life. Please, I’m begging you, trust me. I need to do this on my own. And I need to leave. Just for a while.”

  She doesn’t say a word, and we sit, side by side, our fingers just barely brushing.

  “I don’t—” My voice cracks. Which makes perfect sense, since everything else inside me is cracking wide open too. “I don’t expect you to wait if it winds up being longer than I expect.”

  A sob rips out of Elise’s throat and she gives me such a raw, furious look, I’m ready for her to smack me across the face. Instead, she throws her arms around me and hugs me so tight, I’m fairly sure she cracks a rib.

  “Damnit, Caleb! I’m pissed. I hate this, and I’m not just going to accept your mysterious bullshit,” she says as tears roll down her cheeks. I feel my own throat go scratched seeing this one thing I can’t stand to see. She looks up, her lips wet with her tears, her eyes hot with fury. “But if you think for a single second I’d give up on you, you’re an idiot. A crazy, stupid idiot,” she says, stammering out the last word. “And I love you
.”

  It’s muffled in my shirt, but I hold onto the sound of those words with all I have. Those words from this girl are what’s going to keep me fighting, what’s going to stop me from throwing my hands up and accepting the life I always thought was my fate.

  I hold her back, running my hands over her hair. “I love you, Elise. I’ll make this all right. Believe me.”

  I’m begging her. Her belief is the one thing that gives me hope I can come out on top, even if it seems like I’m pretty completely fucked right now.

  I have to believe a love as good as hers will trump this. I have to believe I can figure this out.

  And I have to do it before I lose the only person I’ve ever loved with my whole heart.

  I hate hospitals. They smell like death.

  If I had a nickel for every time I heard that line, I wouldn’t be standing on aching feet at the ER reception desk at four-thirty in the morning, mainlining caffeine while I stare down a man with oozing bite marks all over his arm.

  He’s waving his hands around, making a big spectacle of himself—which is a sure sign that every word out of his mouth is pure bullshit.

  “I swore to God, if those goddamn dogs got outta their pen again, I was gonna shoot the bitches. Had my gun ready, but they attacked before I could take aim. It was a whole pack of ‘em. Mad dogs. I woulda contacted the police, because those dogs are gonna bite a kid someday or something horrible like that, but they don’t listen. They never listen to nothing, cause they don’t waste time on my side of town.”

  “That looks really awful.” Charlotte, who only had her pinning ceremony a few months ago, looks at his wounds with angelic eyes, her voice all baby-soft. She hasn’t been around long enough to sniff out a liar yet, not that it would matter.

  Charlotte is one of those people who has a soft spot for every person she meets, even the ones who don’t deserve an ounce of her sympathy. Bless her heart. “Let me get you something to clean that up, and we’ll get you right in, sir.”