Disclaimer: As before
Author's Note: Sorry it's taken a little while to get another chapter of something up, I've just finished my first week at work – not been sacked yet so all good thus far! Thank you for the reviews on the last chapter, and I hope you enjoy this one. This chapter ended up being quite long so I chopped some off to put in the next one; hopefully I'll be able to get that up this weekend too.
Instinctively, they both hurried towards the doorstep, skirting around the great piles of snow that had been shovelled together. It was dark, and the doorstep was poorly illuminated by the streetlamp but somehow, Ray knew who it was going to be long before they were close enough to see the person clearly. Oddly, Neela did too.
'It's the boy, isn't it?'
'I think so,' Ray replied grimly.
'What did you say he was called?'
'Jake. Jake Ford.'
They skidded to a halt and knelt in the grey slush beside him, Ray tossing the pizza box aside, the idea of celebrating their newly announced love completely forgotten. A quick glance at Jake told Ray he hadn't been on the receiving end of another beating, but he was unconscious nonetheless. Neela lifted his head slightly to reach his neck to check his pulse, and the strong whiskey fumes hit them in the cold night air.
'Wow, someone was thirsty tonight,' she commented dryly.
'Yeah, well, he was in a lot of pain. Better he numbed it with alcohol than something stronger,' Ray said springing to Jake's defence.
'Still has a strong pulse. No obvious injuries.' Once she was done with her swift examination, Neela moved so the boy's head was resting gently in her lap. She stroked his forehead in a motherly way without really thinking what she was doing. 'Not better if he's given himself alcohol poisoning,' she replied. 'And what makes you think it was only drink that's made him like this? He left the hospital with a pocket full of methadone.'
Tentatively, Ray reached out and felt the boy's pockets, hoping to find the vials still there. His face told Neela the answer.
'Gone?'
'He might not have taken anything. Check his arms for trackmarks.'
Gently, Neela took Jake's arm and ran up the sleeve of his coat. The light from the nearest lamp post was only sufficient to cast an orange glow over them, not enough to see clearly by, so Ray took his cellphone out of his pocket and used its light to illuminate Jake's arm.
'Nothing that looks new,' Neela said. 'Thank God,' she added quietly.
He wanted to say I told you so, but he bit back the petty response. She hadn't said it to him earlier when Jake did a runner, so it wouldn't be fair to throw it at her now. Besides, he wanted Neela's help, and making her mad was not the best way of securing that. Instead, he turned his attention back to Jake.
Ray knelt over him. 'Jake, Jake man, can you hear me?' There was no response, so Ray took hold of his shoulder and gave him a little shake. 'Jake, you gotta try and wake up for me man,' he said loudly.
After a few more minutes of shouting, shaking, and a soft slap around the face, Jake gave a very weak groan, followed soon afterwards by a stronger one. 'Where… where am I?' he croaked. Then he slowly opened his eyes and looked around him. It took a little while for his alcohol blurred vision to focus, but when it did, he was confused by who he saw. 'Ray?'
Ray breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the boy's wide brown eyes staring up at him, and heard his voice, however hoarse it was. Jake was okay, breathing, awake, maybe still a little drunk, but okay. Well, okay enough for now anyway. 'Yeah, it's me. How are you doing Jake?'
With Neela's help, supporting him carefully from behind, Jake started to sit up. He winced in pain as he did so; one hand went to his stomach, still sore from the beating, and he had one helluva headache. 'Not so good, now you come to mention it.' He fought a little to get the words out. He was thinking clearly but his speech was still slightly slurred from all the whiskey.
Suddenly, it occurred to him that there was someone behind him, making the whole painful process of sitting up fractionally easier, and he turned around as far as he was able to see who it was. It was a woman, dark and beautiful despite a worried expression on her face. She looked familiar, but he was sure that he had never met her before. Summoning his strength for the effort, he racked his brains. Then it came back to him. She was the girl from the photo in Ray's wallet. Slowly, it all came flooding back.
After the alley, he'd gone to see the dealer he'd stolen the heroin from. He'd been lucky not to get another kicking on sight, but he'd managed to talk his way out of it. When he offered up the vials of methadone, a smile had spread over the guy's face – Jake didn't even know his name; it was better that way – and he'd invited Jake inside.
"Inside", although he'd never before been asked there, Jake knew would be good. There would be drugs, alcohol, women. It would be warm, dry, and there would be no steel capped boots waiting around the next corner. Not tonight anyway. The dealer had obviously noticed the hospital labels on the vials, and decided that if Jake had access to prescription meds he was worth a bit of investment.
And yet, somehow, Jake wasn't tempted by it. He'd stolen those drugs to buy his safety, not as currency to get more, and although the alcohol and women wouldn't be unwelcome, he knew that it wouldn't stop there. Tonight might be good, but after tonight, there would be suggestions, then requests, then demands, and refusal would not be an option. That was the way it worked, and he didn't want to be a part of it.
So he'd shaken his head, stepped back into the shadows.
'Are you refusing my hospitality?' The inviting note disappeared from the voice instantaneously; replaced by hardness.
'I came here tonight to pay off my debt sir. That's all. I'm sorry for double crossing you, and you won't be hearing from me again.'
'Are you sure about that Jake? I've got a lot of what you want. And I think you and I could do some good business together.'
'No sir. I'm done with this.' And he was. The drugs. The danger. He didn't know why, but it held absolutely no attraction for him all of a sudden. There was a voice in his head that was nagging at him, and at the back of his mind, he knew whose voice it was, that was telling him that he was worth more than this. That this was not the only way.
'Your choice Jake.'
After that, Jake had made a hasty retreat, stunned that he'd gotten away with it. He'd actually broken free of it. He was going to be able to walk down the street without having to look over his shoulder, which he'd always had to do, even before the beating. But… walking down the street was still just about the only thing he was going to be able to do.
He couldn't go back to the hospital, not after stealing the drugs. He hoped Ray hadn't got into trouble; it had been his key after all. There wasn't anywhere else though. He didn't have any friends in Chicago, he guessed there must be hostels, places that people like him could go, but he didn't know where any of them were.
So he'd just wandered for a while. He'd have to find a doorway or a bench or something, but it was cold, and he'd stay warmer if he walked. After an indeterminate number of blocks – he didn't know how many – he noticed he was walking past a liquor store. He stood in front of it for a minute and just looked. He wasn't sure if getting off his face on booze was exactly fitting in with his recent turning over a new leaf decision; alcohol was just another drug, after all, wasn't it? But he had to have something to keep him warm tonight. And, for once, he could afford to pay for something half decent.
He went in; they were unlikely to ask for ID in this part of town, and sure enough, the guy behind the counter hadn't cared, he'd barely taken his eyes off the little screen of the miniature television and the hockey match he was engrossed in.
As he plunged his hand into his pocket for some money to pay for the bottle of whiskey he'd chosen, he remembered that not only did he have Ray's money, the forty bucks, but his wallet as well. He got out of the shop and down the street before he took the piece of battered leather out. He retreated into a shop doorway and unscrewed the cap of the bottle, taking a good slug, then, grimacing at the burn of the whiskey as it ran down his throat, opened the wallet.
Once again, he flicked through it, thinking of the man who owned it. He looked at the photograph again, those hazel eyes, a relaxed smile, looking back at him. Well, Ray probably hated him now, after that stunt with the drug cabinet place. But then… no-one else had ever made the effort before today, before Ray.
Perhaps…
No. He drank more whiskey, this time grimacing less. Why should Ray want to help him after he had betrayed him?
But then… it was worth a try, wasn't it? He had Ray's driver's license; it had his address on it, he knew where to go.
More whiskey, as he made up his mind.
He wasn't sure how he would handle it if he went, and Ray threw him out, wouldn't even see him. If he didn't go, there would always be that hope that if he had gone, he would have been welcome with open arms. But if things didn't go how he hoped, well, Ray would just be one more of the legions of people who had lied to him, given him false hope, and Jake didn't want him to become that.
He raised the bottle to his lips once more, then, on legs that were now slightly unsteady, he stood up. He squinted through blurred eyes at the address on the license. It was on the other side of town, it would take a good hour or so to walk there.
Never mind, he remembered thinking, at least he had a bottle of whiskey to drink on the way. And then after that… nothing.
'All right Jake, let's get you inside. This is Neela by the way, my girlfriend. She's a doctor at County as well.' Neela smiled down at Jake, who craned his neck around to look at her again. When she smiled, he nodded in acknowledgement and after a moment's pause, smiled back. With Neela's help, Ray levered Jake to his feet. The boy was barely able to stand, and he wasn't a small kid, it took both of them to keep him steady.
'Look, no, it's fine,' he grunted. 'I'll just…'
'You'll just nothing,' Neela said in her most no-nonsense voice. Not being used to it, Jake's face betrayed his apprehension, and Ray found himself smiling discreetly. 'You're too drunk to stand. You're going to come upstairs and sober up before you do anything else.'
'I wouldn't argue with her if I was you Jake,' Ray teased. 'Her bite's just as bad as her bark. Believe me, I know.'
'Thank you for that Ray,' Neela said primly. 'Now, come on. It's freezing out here.'
Just the day for the elevator to be out of order; it took a long time to get Jake up the stairs. Still weak from the beating, he let out a not so occasional grunt of pain, and all three of them were panting by the time they reached the correct floor.
When Jake realised the other two were breathing almost as heavily as he was, he shot them a brief, apologetic look. 'Sorry.' Ray waved away his words.
While Ray continued to support Jake, Neela delved into her bag and pulled out a jangling set of keys. Unlocking the door, she pushed it open, and then turned back to the other two and resumed her position on Jake's other side to help him in.
They got him as far as the sofa and let him down, Neela none too gently. She disappeared off to the kitchen, and soon returned with a glass of water and in the background, Ray heard the kettle boiling for coffee. Neela thrust the water into Jake's hands and watched him, hands on hips, as he drank it. Her eyes were narrow and as she was looking at Jake, Ray could tell she was deep in thought.
He couldn't work out what was going through her mind though. He hoped she wasn't going to explode; Jake was far too fragile for that yet, but he wouldn't put it past her. She'd seen how upset he'd been earlier and knowing her, she'd be the first to jump to his defence.
Too late. Neela was speaking.
'Jake, how did you find us? Did Ray give you the address?' You would have to know her well to notice, but there was a hint of ice in her voice, a determination to get an answer. Immediately, Ray tried to head her off.
'Not now Neela, it doesn't matter.'
'I think it does. Jake?'
'I…'
'Neela,' Ray tried again. 'Listen, the kettle's boiled. How about getting Jake some black coffee? I wouldn't mind one as well while you're there.'
'Make your own coffee,' she snapped, not taking her eyes off Jake. 'Jake, how did you find us?'
Ray sighed in frustration, there was no arguing with Neela when she was like this. To try to take the edge of her questioning though, he turned to Jake, even though he already knew the answer. He hadn't been game to mention his missing wallet after the drugs fiasco. 'Jake, man, how did you find me?' he asked in a gentle, curious tone in sharp contrast to Neela's.
'I took your wallet Ray. I'm sorry, you left it right there in your white coat and I guess I just… I'm sorry.'
Ray put a reassuring hand on Jake's shoulder. 'Hey, don't worry about it man. It's not a problem. I'm… I'm really glad that you came to find me Jake.'
