Chapter 2
They were on top of the bed, both of them in varying degrees of undress. He could feel the warmth radiating off her body with every breath she took. Her hand stroked the back of his neck as he kissed her shoulder, then the delicate skin over her clavicle, and her neck, moving his way up to her lips. He stopped to savor the moment, watching her close her eyes and smile in pleasure. Her lips tasted the same, just as they did during their first kiss, and for every kiss after that in the two years that followed. He asked himself how he could've ever walked away from this, and struggled to find an answer.
Her eyes fluttered open when his almost day-old stubble rubbed against her cheek.
"Victor," she said.
"Hmm?" he murmured into her neck.
"Someone's ringing your doorbell."
He pulled himself up to listen. The doorbell was in fact ringing, and at a rapid pace.
"They'll go away," he said, turning his attention back to her.
She laughed softly. "They've been at it for the last minute or two. You didn't hear?"
"I had other things on my mind," he replied.
As if to punctuate the message, the doorbell sounded again, this time emulating a loud, garbled distress signal. Its irregular beat clashed with the steady drumming of the background rain.
Sully sighed. He shuffled off the bed reluctantly and picked up his shirt from the floor. "I'll be right back."
. . .
Nate heard a muffled response behind the door after what seemed like the fiftieth ring.
"I'm coming, I'm coming! Hold your goddamn horses." Sully's voice was unmistakable as it neared from the other side.
He pulled open the door and squinted at the figure in front of him. The man was perfectly situated in front of the porch light, creating a halo around his head and hiding his features in the shadows. The plain T-shirt and jeans that he wore were soaked through, with small rivulets of rainwater dripping onto the brick doorstep. Although he couldn't see the younger man's face, Sully easily recognized who it was.
"Nate?" he said above the roar of the storm. "What the hell are you doing here? I thought you weren't coming back until tomorrow."
"Took an earlier flight," said Nate as he crossed his arms to preserve the little body heat he had left. He felt his teeth clattering together despite the effort. "You gonna let me in?"
Sully opened the door the rest of the way. "You walked here?" He asked absently, his thoughts drifting back to Eve.
"Mmhmm," Nate said as he stepped into the house. He cupped his hands together and blew on them for warmth.
Sully closed the door behind them. He was immediately taken aback by the strong, permeating scent of alcohol spilling off of Nate. It quickly spread to fill the confined space of the hallway. He gave the younger man a once over, now under a brighter light, and noticed the slight imbalance in his step.
Sully disappeared into the nearest bathroom with a frown and returned a few seconds later.
"Here," he said, tossing a towel in Nate's direction. "You're dripping all over the hardwood."
"Gee Sully, thanks for the concern," said Nate, but he accepted the towel with gratitude. He wiped his face, arms, and scrubbed at his hair.
The smell of alcohol surrounding him grew more concentrated, and Sully's eyes followed him with renewed worry.
"Jesus, kid, you smell like you've been bathing in moonshine. You okay?"
"Yeah, great," Nate slurred his words as he pulled off his waterlogged shoes and socks, which required more energy than he expected. Two puddles formed on the floor that quickly converged into one. "The damn bartender took my keys," he said by way of explanation, gesturing at the puddle.
Sully's concern deepened with his comment. He couldn't remember the last time the kid had gotten himself this drunk.
"When did you get back?" he asked.
"This morning," Nate mumbled.
"Anything happen in L.A. that I should know about?"
It was supposed to be a simple trip to obtain some information from one of their oldest sources. The only thing that made dealing with Rick Hademan a hassle was his deep-seated conspiracy tendency, and insistence on meeting face to face for everything. Each time they needed an exchange of information, one of them had to fly across the country to Los Angeles. Either Nate or himself, or the both of them, had made the trip dozens of times.
Nate shook his head, but stopped himself. The nausea from earlier threatened to renew its stronghold.
Sully sighed. "So you decided to come home early, have some Jack Daniels for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and…what? Add a dash of hypothermia to make it a day? Something happened. You wanna tell me what it was?"
Nate walked up to Sully and rested his hand on the older man's shoulder. "Sully, you worry too much. Can't a guy have some fun once in a while?"
He didn't give Sully a chance to respond as he walked past, on his way to the kitchen.
Sully followed the trail of wet footprints across the open floor plan of the house.
"Nate," he began, "there's something you should know."
Nate either didn't hear him or pretended not to as he rummaged around a cabinet next to the stainless steel refrigerator. Glass bottles clinked together as he searched for a specific one.
"Gotcha." Nate fished out a bottle of Ardbeg a second later. He inspected the label. "Good taste, Sully."
He grabbed some tumblers from the adjacent cabinet and poured two healthy servings of the single malt scotch. "C'mon, we're celebrating."
"Celebrating what?" Sully asked wearily as he watched Nate down a double shot in record speed.
"Freedom," Nate grinned at him, trying to focus on Sully's features. "And the American dream." He felt the warmth from the alcohol build up in his chest and followed it with a second dose of the amber liquid.
Sully took the glass away before he could pour a third. "That's enough, kid."
It took Nate a second to realize his drinking vessel was gone, but his eyes rested on Sully's untouched glass and his fingers wrapped around it a moment quicker than his friend's. The whiskey almost touched his lips before they both heard a voice coming from the next room.
"Victor?"
