Chapter Seventeen – A Nightmare Shared
When Steve turned he had a momentary look at David Larkin as he stood several feet away. The look on his face was one of pure evil. In the next instant Alex was falling into his arms. He dropped to his knees and carefully cradled her against his body and felt a sticky wetness on her back. He was so focused on her that he failed to notice David Larkin moving towards them gun in hand.
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Mark had watched the events transpire as if in a dream. He had seen David Larkin exit the warehouse with his gun pointed at his son. In the next moment Alex had become aware of his intent and she had screamed Steve's name and flung herself in front of the gun as it discharged. When he saw Steve catch her, he had looked back and stared as David Larkin once more took aim at his son. He would never recall clearly what happened next, but almost immediately he felt the car impact with the man who was threatening his son. The vehicle screeched to a halt and there was a deafening silence.
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Steve was totally unaware of the drama playing out around him. He was intent on the woman in his arms. A woman he knew was probably dying. He was covered in blood, her blood, there was blood running from her nose, and a gurgling noise could be heard in her throat. He felt her hand grab his shirt and he looked into her once bright eyes. She moved her lips, in an effort to speak; her voice was so low that Steve leaned in closely, his ear almost touching her mouth.
"I love you," she whispered.
Steve gripped her more tightly, fell back off his knees and sat on the ground. He pulled her completely onto his lap and cuddled her tightly against his chest. "I'm sorry, Alex."
"Why…are…you…sorry?" she gasped.
"Because I kept us apart, because that bullet was meant for me," he responded in a tear choked voice.
She smiled and reached a finger up towards his face to touch the tear that had just escaped his eye. She brought it back and touched her lips with the wetness. The salty taste was him. "Say it, please?" she pleaded.
Steve closed his eyes briefly and pulled her even more tightly to him. He then lowered his head and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. "I love you," he whispered.
She smiled a singularly sweet smile that would haunt Steve for the rest of his life and then breathed her last breath.
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Steve was seated near the back of the chapel in the funeral home. His dad was to his left and Amanda to his right with her hand resting lightly on his leg. Jesse sat beside his dad, and Steve glanced over to find the young man, his head bowed, staring at the floor. The last few days had been difficult to say the least. Steve's physical injuries were well on their way to being healed, the mental damage however was progressing much more slowly and though they hadn't talked, he knew Jesse was suffering in the same way. He was not sleeping and found himself restlessly pacing through the house during the night. The hardest part though was that whenever Steve closed his eyes a vision of Alex's last smile filled his mind.
Steve was sure Jesse was experiencing similar problems and they needed each other more than ever, but when Steve looked at him, saw the torment and the sadness in his eyes, his feelings of guilt over the entire situation increased. Jesse had taken the oath to save lives but, in saving Steve's life, had taken that of David Larkin and a distance had sprung up between them, adding to both their struggles.
As his thoughts wandered, his eyes drifted towards the front of the room. The casket was white and adorned with red roses. As he had gazed down at her, Steve had nearly lost his hard-fought battle for control. She had looked as if she were sleeping, as if she would wake at any moment. Her hair lay softly around her face and he had reached to gently stroke it with trembling fingers. At that moment, he had felt a hand squeeze his arm lightly and turned to find Amanda beside him. Her tear and compassion filled eyes proved to be his undoing. He grabbed her and held her closely as the sob was ripped from his throat.
The music started to indicate that the service was beginning, and he pulled his thoughts back to the present. His gaze found Alex's parents where they sat on the front row. They had been incredibly kind, had told him it wasn't his fault, but that did nothing to alleviate his guilt.
He felt Amanda squeeze his thigh and he looked to find her smiling kindly at him. He attempted a return smile as another hand to his left slid down between their chairs to grasp his own and give it a brief reassuring squeeze. As the hand started to move back, Steve grabbed and held it in place. That touch had meant so much in his life. It had been there when he walked into school for the first time, held him tightly when he left for Vietnam, and been there to comfort him when he came home. It had congratulated him soundly when he graduated from the Police Academy, provided strength when his mother and sister had died and been there through numerous injuries and recoveries. It grounded and supported him in much the same fashion now, and as Steve gripped tighter, he felt the love and strength flow through the healing fingers. A safe warmth flowed into him and gave him the courage to make it through the service.
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Jesse sat at the table in the doctors' lounge. His hands gripped the coffee cup that sat in front of him. To the casual observer it might appear that he was enjoying the heat when in actuality he was trying to control the trembling of his hands. He stared at the long cold black liquid. His mind was in turmoil. The logical side knew that he had done what he had to do. He used the only weapon at his disposal to protect his best friend. He didn't regret that, he did however regret that his actions had taken the life of another. After he had checked on Alex and confirmed what Steve already knew, he had left Steve in the capable hands of his father and moved towards the crumpled figure in front of his car. As he had knelt down and examined the figure illuminated in the headlights, he had known immediately that the man was dead. Sightless eyes gazed back at him. He closed his own eyes in an effort to cleanse his mind of the image but as had been the case since it happened he was unsuccessful.
Mark smiled at the young doctor. "Hi, Jess, tough day?"
"No more than normal, how about you?"
"The same, Amanda is coming to the house for dinner tonight, can you join us?"
Jesse considered the offer. He had been avoiding spending any time with Steve, he wasn't angry with him, it just seemed awkward. He knew they were both avoiding the issue, and the longer it went on, the greater the chance of permanent damage to their relationship. He was not willing to risk that, but he also found himself unable to look his friend in the eyes. He didn't know how long he had been sitting with his mind bouncing from one thought to another, but when he looked up he found Mark watching him intently, a concerned look on his face.
"Jesse, please, say yes," Mark pleaded.
Jesse smiled slightly his decision made. "Sure, Mark, what time?"
Mark grinned broadly. "We'll see you around 7:30." The first part of his mission accomplished Mark left the lounge to find Amanda and share his success.
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Steve sat at the table surrounded by boxes. Though he was not yet back at work, he was still the lead investigator on the murders and thus all the evidence collected at David Larkin's apartment had been brought to the house for him to review. Larkin had kept a detailed journal, and had carefully and methodically planned all the murders. He had only become careless at the end when he had targeted Steve. His need for revenge over a perceived injustice had clouded his mind to what he wanted to accomplish. The call to Steve had set Mark's mind down the path that would eventually lead to his downfall. He had become familiar with the men while working the newspaper booth. With each of them, he had documented what he learned. He had chosen two of the victims over a length of time, the other had been a victim of opportunity. He had resembled Steve and made the mistake of dropping his driver's license out of his wallet as he left Ray's Gym. It had given David information that he needed to claim another victim. There were multiple pictures of Alex and mutilated pictures of Steve. He had intricately detailed each murder and his overall plan of trying to implicate a woman. He had never really planned on killing Steve; that had happened when he had begun working on the murders and come in contact with Alex again. There was more than enough evidence for David Larkin to be charged posthumously with murder. Wilbur had been a classmate of David's, one of those individuals that lived on the fringe of society; he never really fit in anywhere. Larkin had taken advantage of his need for acceptance and molded him into a willing accomplice. He would stand trial for assault and kidnapping. Steve lightly fingered one of the pictures of Alex. It had been taken on the street outside the paper. Her phone was nestled against her neck as she held it to her ear and rested her notepad against the wall of the building as she wrote. That is what she did, who she was, the woman he loved. He tenderly traced his finger around the image in the photograph. The bitter irony of the entire situation was that Alex had finally gotten the fame she had sought. Her murder had been front page news. With that final thought Steve threw the papers and pictures into a box and went to the kitchen for a beer.
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When Mark arrived home the house was silent. He laid his keys on the table in the entryway and moved up the steps and through the living room and paused briefly to look at the boxes that littered the floor and the table before he opened the door that led to the deck. Steve was sitting at the table staring out at the ocean. He walked out and stopped in front of his son. Steve's eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses so Mark was unable to read his expression. "Amanda and Jesse are coming for dinner."
Steve swirled the beer bottle he held in his hand. "Jesse's coming?"
"Yes, they both will be here around 7:30."
"Then I had better clean up the mess I left on the table," Steve said as he rose somewhat stiffly from his chair and headed back into the house.
Mark wasn't exactly sure what kind of reaction he had hoped for, but what he got was not it. He sighed deeply and then followed his son inside the house.
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Dinner had been a tense affair. The conversation had been carried by Mark and Amanda, with the occasional grunt or nod from Steve and Jesse, neither of them had spoke unless spoken to. As the meal had concluded Steve had mumbled something about fresh air, and then walked out the door and down the steps to the beach. After a moments hesitation Jesse had carefully folded his napkin and after laying it on the table followed Steve.
As he reached the top of the dune just behind the house he saw a figure silhouetted by the moonlight. He sat on a log, his elbows resting on his legs his chin resting in the palms of his hands. Jesse moved to stand behind making sure to make noise so as to not startle him. As he reached the sand close to his friend Steve spoke.
"She said she loved me you know?"
Jesse stopped for a moment, not sure how to proceed. "No, I didn't know, I'm sorry."
"I loved her too," Steve added in a voice so strained with emotion that it sounded foreign even to his own ears. He felt a hand touch his shoulder and in a reaction that surprised even himself he reached up and grabbed that hand.
"I'm sorry, Jesse…," he paused for a moment in an attempt to regain his composure, "and thank you for saving my life."
Jesse pulled his hand back and quickly shoved it in his pocket. For a moment he considered turning around and running to his car and escaping. Then the bond of friendship that had given him the strength to follow Steve bolstered him once more.
"Steve, you have nothing to be sorry for, you were a victim, hell, we were all victims."
"I know, Jess, but what you did…," Steve trailed off.
"I'm not going to lie to you, it's been hard and will continue to be hard, but when I look at the alternative of not having you in my life, I know I did the right thing."
Steve said nothing; he only slid over on the log to make room for Jesse to sit beside him.
Jesse accepted the invitation and sat down. He nervously rubbed his hands on his pants before continuing. "Steve, I've never really known what a family was like, finding you, Mark and Amanda made me realize what I had been missing. I know my parents love me, but I have found more acceptance and support with the three of you than I ever did with them. He reached a hand towards Steve's arm and gripped the tense muscles he felt there. "You are my family, and families take care of each other."
"When did you get so smart?" Steve asked in a whispered voice.
Jesse chuckled lightly. "I hang out with the right people, now how about we go inside, I'm sure your dad has worn a path in the carpet pacing and looking out the windows."
Steve stood and offered a hand to the younger man, as he pulled him up off the log he slid an arm across his shoulders and hugged him tight against his side. Jesse recognized the gesture for what it was, and smiled his understanding. Things were far from being normal, that wouldn't happen for awhile, but they had taken the first crucial step towards recovery and that important first step had been taken together.
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Mark and Steve sat on the deck enjoying the moonlight and the star filled sky. Jesse and Amanda had left about thirty minutes ago and there had been kisses and tears exchanged. They had faced a demon tonight, one that could easily have destroyed them.
"How are you doing, Son?"
"Better," Steve responded.
"I spoke with Alex's parents today," Mark said.
That had surprised Steve. "You did? What about?"
They had been packing up Alex's apartment and found some things they thought you might like," Mark added as he pulled and envelope out of his jacket pocket and slid it across the table.
"What's in it?"
"What makes you think I opened it?" Mark asked.
Steve turned to look at his father and smiled. "There is no way you would give it to me without knowing the contents."
Mark grinned sheepishly. "Some pictures, the ticket stubs from the Bruce Springsteen concert you took her to and…," Mark paused and Steve looked at him more intently, "some letters to you she never mailed."
Steve took the envelope. "I think I'll look at this stuff later."
Mark nodded his understanding.
They sat in companionable silence for awhile longer, each of them grateful that the other was there to share the evening with and both of them comfortable in the knowledge that there was no adversity that could beat them if they faced it together.
THE END