Page 6 of Dirty Cops Next Door

“He’s alright though?” I could hear how my voice shook but could do little to stop it.

“He’s got some burns and a head injury. He’s awake, or he was when I left to come get you.”

“Why didn’t you just call me?” I knew it was a stupid question, but it was all that occurred to me at the moment.

“I thought it best, that way you didn’t have to drive while you were upset.” He looked over at me, his glance showing surprise that I wasn’t in tears.

Eric was alive. There’d be no tears. I’d cried out my tears a long time ago. Only death could bring them now.

“I appreciate that.” I turned away, needing to process everything before I could see my brother. How could he fall in with the wrong crowd on the very first day of school?

I wanted to be angry—I was angry—but I had to hear his side of it before I could let it go. I’d learned over the last few years that I wasn’t his mother. I was his sister and his guardian. I couldn’t push him like Mom used to.

I shied away from that thought, turning my head away from the bright lights of a restaurant we were passing to look at Grant instead. He was a good driver, careful but on the offense. He could definitely take control when he needed to.

I inhaled a deep breath into my lungs; I didn’t like the direction of my thoughts. He was handsome, distractingly so, and he smelled incredible, but my little brother was in the hospital and probably scared out of his mind.

I finally went to my phone for distraction, seeing I had a text from Barbara.

What a first day! I’d just turned down my big break!

I sat back, hoping I wouldn’t get a ‘you’re fired’ text.

My phone buzzed moments later.

I breathed a sigh of relief, my thoughts whirling. I knew I should be sobbing, I knew I should be shaking in abject fear at what might have happened to Eric. Grant had said he was awake. Until I saw my brother, until I saw his face, I knew I would be calm. I might hug him and never let go when I saw him, but right now, I would not panic.

I would not.

I clenched my hand around the phone, the only indication that I wasn’t as calm as I wanted to be. And then I remembered I’d been drinking wine when Grant arrived. I dug around in my purse and found a stick of gum, hoping the peppermint would take away the smell of wine. Jeez, that’s all I needed, for any of the cops or the hospital staff to notice I’d been drinking. Child protective services would be on me in no time. Especially if Eric had been messing around with drug dealers.

Maybe he’d just ridden out there with his friend to play around in empty buildings? A stupid idea but not one beyond the realm of thought for teenage boys. I might be a new journalist but I wasn’t old to journalism, I knew how stupid people could be. Eric and I were alone, after all.

Grant pulled into the hospital’s parking space for police officers and emergency personnel and we got out. He caught my hand before we walked into the sliding glass doors of the three-story brick building. I turned back, looking at him in confusion.

“Don’t scream at him, okay? We can save this situation. Just stay clear, alright? Let him tell you what happened.” His eyes implored me to understand, and for a moment I wondered if he was trying to get me to get information from Eric.

Something about his touch told me it went deeper than that. This wasn’t just a man that, for whatever reason, thought I’d turn into a screaming harridan once I saw my brother. Maybe the bit of cynicism that all journalists have pre-installed onto their hard drives told me that Grant was speaking from his own experience, not assumptions. His own childhood maybe? I finally gave a slight nod, and he let my hand go.

I stared at the ceiling of the elevator as we rode up to the second floor, trying to keep my head clear, trying not to let the past haunt me.

Grant walked me straight to the room and for the first time I saw what had happened to my little brother.

“Eric!” I hurried to the side of the bed, staring at the tubes in his arm, at the portion of his shaved head showcasing stitches. A long, angry line of red skin and black stitches slashed across the left side of his head from just above his ear to the back of his head.

“I’m okay, Toni, I swear.” His voice sounded the same as when he was little, tiny and afraid. He cuddled into my chest as I pulled him to me, a small sob muffled by his hand.

“I didn’t know anything like that was going to happen,” he gasped, pulling away to look at me. “I swear I didn’t know.”

“It’s alright, Eric. Tell me what happened.” I put the rail down on the side of the bed and sat next to him. Grant took one of the obligatory pink chairs that weren’t good for much of anything except making the room look tacky.

“I met Mark in my homeroom class, he’s my student guide. We were talking about music, things we like in between classes, you know? He seemed cool. He said he wanted to show me something after school, so we went out to this place his dad owns. Then these guys showed up, and, jeez, Toni. I think they killed somebody!” His eyes were round in his young face, and I stroked away a smudge of smoke.