He’d promised to help with Angelina’s birthday party too. She could always call him if he avoided her too long.
So late on the fifth of July, more than a week later, Carm decided she’d have to take the bull by the…um, horns… Yeah, her nighttime—and sometimes daytime—sexual fantasies about Tony hadn’t diminished over time. In fact, they’d become even more explicit. She wouldn’t get any sleep until she put this call behind her.
Would he be home? Alone? He and Marc had worked the holiday this year so, unless he switched places with someone, he wouldn’t be at the station.
With her free hand, she filled the washer with her delicates while the phone rang. And rang. It was a cell phone number, and first responders didn’t go anywhere without their phones.
“Hello?” Tony’s raspy-sounding voice sent a tingle down her spine straight to her girlie bits. That sensation was quickly replaced by a sense of relief at hearing his voice, which surprised her even more. She’d been more worried than she realized.
Thank God he was okay, although it sounded as though she might have woken him despite it being only ten o’clock. She had no clue what a normal sleep schedule was for him after working a twenty-four-hour shift, although Marc said they usually slept at night when they didn’t have calls.
She supposed she’d find out.
Flashes of orange and pink floated in the water. Tony tried his damnedest to reach them and pull them out in time, but just before he could, his alarm went off. Tony’s head pounded as he reached for his phone on the nightstand to turn it off. His head pounded from the bourbon he’d consumed earlier—or was that last night? What the hell day was it? Was he scheduled to work today?
No. I just finished my shift this morning.
Was it still Thursday or had he slept all night? Like that ever happened anymore. Then why did he set an alarm? When it sounded again, he realized it was an incoming phone call. Keeping his eyes closed to avoid more pain, he answered.
“Hi, Tony. It’s Carm.” Her chipper voice made him cringe.
He’d forgotten to call her.
Forgot, my ass.
After a pause, he said, “Hey. Everything okay?”
“Yeah, sure. I hope I’m not calling too late. I just wanted to…to talk with you…about Angelina’s party.”
He hadn’t even seen his sister since she came home from her honeymoon a couple of days ago.
“If this is a bad time…”
“No, no. I was just…in the middle of something.” An alcohol-induced stupor.
“Oh! I’m so sorry to interrupt!”
God, does she think I’m with a woman? As if he’d had any interest in sex this past week.
“Listen, Tony, just give me a call when it’s a good time, and we’ll talk then.”
Tony sat up on the couch, and an empty bottle of bourbon slid onto the carpet. At least he’d finished it before he passed out because he hadn’t replaced the cap.
“No, we can talk now. What do you need?”
After a moment, she said, “Have you had a chance to pull together a list of names for invitations? We’re just a little over a month away now…”
“List?” God, my head hurts. “Yeah, I’ll ask Mama to take care of that for you. She’ll know better than I will.” At the moment, he couldn’t string together a list of two things he needed to pick up at the grocery store.
“Oh, don’t give it another thought. I can call her tomorrow.”
As if he’d given it any thought. He’d dropped yet another ball. “No, I said I’d help, and I will.” He came across as sounding defensive now. “Sorry…I’ve just been a little busy…” trying to drink myself into oblivion when I’m not on duty.
“Tony, I was wor…wondering. You doing okay?”
The tone in her voice changed to the one he’d been hearing from people all over town and at the station ever since the drownings. It was as if everyone walked on eggshells around him, expecting him to crack at any moment. First his brothers. Then Mama. He didn’t need it from Marc’s family, too.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I just…after what happened at the…campground, I’ve been thinking about you.”
Was she referring to his flashback?
“I, um, read about what happened on the river a couple weeks ago.”
Crap. He almost preferred that she be thinking about him kissing her.
“I remember when Marc experienced similar episodes and just…I hope you’re taking Ryder’s advice. He’s been there too.”
What Marc and Ryder went through was a hundred times worse than Tony’s incident. While he’d promised Ryder he’d call one of the counselors—Ryder had even given him a copy of the counselor contact list knowing Tony hadn’t kept his own—he hadn’t made a single call yet.
Maybe after the holiday weekend, if he wasn’t sleeping better, because the lack of sleep was making him sloppy on the job. His lieutenant had pointed out that he was uncharacteristically showing up for work only a few minutes before shift change. But Tony hadn’t been late or missed a single day of work. It was just getting harder to get out of bed in the morning. Tony had also stopped going to the station on his days off, preferring to be in oblivion as much as possible.
“Tony? Still there?”
“Yeah. Look, Carm, what happened sucked, but it’s part of the job I signed up for.”
“True, but that doesn’t make it any easier. I’m so sorry you’re going through this.”
Pity.
The last thing he wanted or needed was for her to feel sorry for him.
He stared at the empty bottle at his foot and kicked it. Time to get rid of Carm. “Aside from the guest list, what else do you need for the party?” His abrupt change of subject left her silent for a moment.
“Um, well, what activities or games do you think she’d like?”
Games? He used to be the life of the party and would normally have come up with all kinds of ideas but didn’t give a rat’s ass at the moment.
“Anything you decide will be perfect.”
Silence for a long moment. “Okay, I’ll come up with some ideas to run by you.”
“Sounds good.” He just couldn’t wrap his head around this party right now.
“Well…” Her voice faded off. “It was good talking with you, Tony. I guess I’ll see you at the party next month.”
“Yeah, sure.” Tony ran a hand through his sleep-tousled hair. Guilt for the way he’d dumped this project in her lap gnawed at his gut. Or was it the bourbon? “Listen, Carm, thanks for planning this thing for Angelina. Sorry I’ve been out of touch and left you to handle all of it.”
“No worries. I love planning events.”
“Give me some time and I’ll meet with you to finalize things in a few weeks.”
“Sounds good.” Her spirits sounded as though they’d lifted. He didn’t like bringing anyone else down to his level.
After ending the call, Tony went to the bathroom and splashed water on his face to wash away the remnants of the nightmare he’d been in the throes of when Carm called. She’d blessedly kept him from reliving the worst part again. Seeing that sweet toddler with her big blue eyes meant he wouldn’t be going back to get any sleep for a while.
No work tomorrow. Maybe he’d go hiking or something that would take him away from another day in the bottle. Somewhere high in the mountains. Independence Pass maybe. Far away from raging rivers.
Drying off his face, he walked to the fridge to retrieve a beer. He’d had enough of the hard stuff for one night. Wasn’t helping anyway. A couple cans of beer would take the edge off while watching TV. He might not go to bed again at all tonight. Definitely not until the vivid images faded a bit.
Was that supposed to happen eventually? God, I hope so. After more than a week of very little sleep, he wasn’t sure that stage in the healing process would ever arrive. The nightmare came back to him in the middle of every night. The tiny girl’s eyes pleading with him to save her as she
clung to her mother moments before they were swept down the river to their deaths. And then flashes of their debris-mangled bodies…
He shook off those images.
Would he ever be able to get through a full night without seeing their faces? Hearing their screams?
In the living room, he turned on the TV. ESPN should have something that would entertain him for a while. Definitely no Denver football, but what were the chances they’d be on in July? He soon found the rebroadcast of a March soccer match between Manchester United and Real Madrid—no orange and blue uniforms. That should be safe.
But the game didn’t grab his attention after half an hour or so. Instead, he continued to be bombarded by images—only this time of Carm’s sexy face. Getting her into his bed would surely push the bad stuff away for a while, but no way was he going to treat Angelina’s sister-in-law like he did the women he picked up at daVinci’s bar. And he wasn’t in any shape to start anything long-term.
Hell, he didn’t even have any desire to return to the bar in search of a one-night stand. Not after that disastrous last hook-up.
His phone rang again, but he chose to let it go to voicemail. Whoever it was called back almost immediately. Tony leaned over to glance at the screen. Angelina. Closer to her than to any of his other siblings, he wouldn’t be able to fool her the way he had everyone else. Marc had said last night she would be coming by the apartment soon. Had he missed her while passed out on the couch?
Figuring he could fool her better over the phone, he picked up the phone. “What’s up, Baby? Still in love with that guy you ran off to Italy with?”
“Blissfully!” He could hear the happiness in her voice. God, he hoped it worked out for them. He’d hate to see her hurt. “Now, when are we going to get together?” Her tone changed abruptly.
“I’ve been pretty busy. Work and all. Besides, you just got back from your honeymoon. Don’t tell me Marc’s ready to let you out of his sight already.”
She laughed. “We both have jobs, remember? Too bad you two are on the same shift, but why don’t you come by the restaurant tomorrow afternoon? I need to ask you something.”
“Can’t you ask me over the phone?”
“If I could, I would. Nope. You have to come see me.”
Tony sighed. How could he get out of this?
You can’t.
“What time?”
After agreeing to three o’clock, Tony said good night and disconnected the call before going back into the kitchen to open his last bottle of bourbon. One boilermaker with a double shot ought to knock him into oblivion again. He made a mental note to stop by the liquor store on the way to or from Angelina’s café tomorrow to stock up on whiskey and beer. He’d have to go heavier on the latter because he was on duty Sunday. His first Sunday shift since he’d shown up on that fateful day.
So much for no longer trying to drink your problems away.
Chapter Eleven
Between the lunch and dinner crowds Saturday afternoon, Tony arrived at Angelina’s restaurant. The sign on the door read “Closed for a private event.” Good. Not wanting to intrude, he decided to head back home and call Angelina later.
However, before he could turn back toward his truck, the café door opened.
“Tony!” Angelina said as she launched herself at him and wrapped her arms around him in a bone-crushing hug. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“Missed you too, Baby.” He kissed her cheek before releasing her and taking a step back in case he reeked of alcohol despite his efforts to douse himself in aftershave.
“Come in, come in. I’ve closed the restaurant so we can have some privacy.”
Normally, the two of them could talk about everything under the sun, even with her sous-chef, Pippa Trapani, working not five feet away. Pippa knew all there was to know about the Giardano family. But he wasn’t up for chitchat today, not with the pounding headache he’d woken up with a couple of hours ago.
Stepping through the doorway, Tony’s radar sounded a high alert in his brain, and he came to a standstill. Seated at the large farm table at the back of the café, looking like someone had died, were Rafe, Mama, Ryder, and Tony’s shift lieutenant, Dale Anderson.
Jesus Christ. What now?
What had he missed in Angelina’s invitation? He’d expected to just hang out with her for a while then head back to his apartment after picking up more bourbon and beer for tonight. He turned to his baby sister. “What’s going on?”
“I’m not the only one who’s been missing you, Tony.”
Great.
“A.J.,” Mama said as she came over to wrap her arms around him. If they were alone, she’d have called him Bambino, as she did three of her four sons. But when they were all together, she reverted to special nicknames for three of them, his being short for Antonio Junior. Rafe, well, he was always just Rafe. “I’ve been worried about you.” She stepped back and placed her hands on the sides of his face. “You aren’t eating enough. Sit down.” She turned to Angelina. “Sweetie, could you have Pippa prepare a plate of her fabulous beef ravioli for Tony? It’s his favorite.”
“Mama, I just ate lunch,” he lied, knowing he wouldn’t be able to get anything down with his stomach churning from last night’s drinking binge.
Mama narrowed her eyes at him, and guilt washed over him. He’d never lied to her before this summer, and now it seemed to happen every time they talked. Not that they’d spoken much, because he was avoiding her too.
“I suppose I could eat two ravioli, Mama.”
To Angelina, Mama said, smiling, “Make it three.”
“Coming up!” Angelina left them to go into the kitchen.
God, he hoped he could manage that many of Pippa’s enormous stuffed pasta pillows. But to appease his mother, he would make the sacrifice. Avoiding his brother, Tony gravitated toward the end of the table where Ryder and Tony’s lieutenant sat. No one else appeared to be planning to eat. Something was definitely wrong here.
“Have a seat, Tony,” Lieutenant said. Even though they weren’t at the station or on duty, Tony automatically did as he was told by his superior.
Rafe and Ryder sat across from Tony on either side of the lieutenant, while Mama sat down next to Tony, placing her arm around his back and giving him a reassuring squeeze.
Only problem was he didn’t feel reassured at all. Why did he get the feeling this wasn’t about sharing a meal together? The fact that his lieutenant was here didn’t bode well, that’s for sure.
“Aren’t you guys eating?” Tony asked.
Ryder spoke first. “Megan and I had lunch already. I just needed to see how you’re doing. I’ve been worried about you too.”
“I’m fine. How are you doing?” Ryder had been right there with him in that river the day they’d found the bodies. God, was he having nightmares, too? Lost in his own issues, Tony hadn’t thought about how the bad call had affected others on the scene.
He shrugged. “Like you, I’ve had some nightmares. Talked with one of the counselors they recommended, though. I’m finding some new coping strategies to handle this type of trauma. It’s different than my combat-related stress issues.” Ryder looked down at his folded hands on the table before meeting Tony’s gaze again. “It’s been difficult for me, Tony, but you had the worst of it, being the one involved in the rescue on top of finding the bodies of both victims.”
No, that mother and her little girl had the worst of it.
But hearing that Ryder was going through some shit, too, only added to Tony’s guilt. If he’d rescued them when they first fell into the river like he should have, he’d have spared Ryder that. The ripple effect of his failure spread far and wide.
“The counselor gave me some good suggestions and helped me find some answers of my own,” he continued. “If you’re ready to talk with someone, I highly recommend Lisa Doyle in Breckenridge.”
Rafe nodded. “She’s really good with first responder issues. Helped me through a rough patch five yea
rs ago after the Second Street two-story house fire.”
Tony’s head snapped up, and he stared at the brother he most admired. Why had he felt the need to go to a shrink? Rafe always kept his shit together no matter what.
Tony had to know more. “You saw a therapist?”
“Had to. I couldn’t sleep and was showing up at the station in no condition to work.” Rafe’s gaze bore into Tony. Had someone reported Tony’s condition to him? “Worst call of my career—then and since. Family of four dead the week before Christmas, including two little boys under five years old.” Even now, a sadness came into Rafe’s eyes that showed Tony he still had regrets.
While Tony hadn’t been with the department at the time, everyone in town had been hit hard by that tragedy. The chimney fire in the early morning hours had gone undetected until the frame house was almost fully engulfed.
“By the time a passerby noticed smoke and we showed up on scene, we had to knock down the flames before we could go in and begin our search for victims. Neighbors told us how many family members lived there and pointed out their SUV parked on the street. Dale and I conducted the primary search.” Rafe pointed to Tony’s lieutenant before pausing to take a sip of water.
Lieutenant picked up the story. “The floor in what we later learned from fire investigators was the parents’ bedroom fell through before we could get to the second story, but because the fire hadn’t extended to where the boys’ bedrooms were in the back of the house, we were allowed to continue searching. We weren’t sure if there would be one bedroom or two, but were hopeful we’d find the kids alive.” He paused, swallowing hard. “By the time we found them huddled together in a closet…” His voice broke.
Rafe resumed the story. “We got them out of the house and to the paramedics as quickly as we could, but it was too late.” Rafe continued, his voice weaker. “My anxiety level skyrocketed after that—both on and off duty. Finding those kids was the hardest thing I’ve ever experienced.”
“The medical examiner later said the boys died of smoke inhalation,” Lieutenant said, “and probably were gone before we even showed up. We wouldn’t have been able to save any of them, even if we’d arrived fifteen minutes earlier.”
TONY: Slow Burn (Raging Fire Book 1) Page 11
