Page 30 of Nightcrawler

“Miguel?”

I turned and looked over at him and whatever he’d seen on my face, made him move. He was out of the dinette and across the room as fast as he could make it. He pulled me into his arms, and I wrapped him up in mine, clinging to him but still cognizant of his wounds as the horror of that day washed over me once again. Here in Raven’s arms, I felt safe, safe to look at the china in his grandmother’s cabinets and feel like I could breathe. Cassidy and Mike had offered a scared fifteen-year-old safety that awful day, and now Raven was here, offering the same without even knowing what was wrong.

“You’re shaking,” Raven whispered into the side of my neck. “What is it?”

I loosened my hold and glanced over at the Desert Rose china pattern before returning to his cobalt eyes, wide with concern and worry for me. He didn’t let go, just kept his arms around my waist, just held me up, if not literally, but by simply being here for me, and offering me what comfort he could.

“I’m all right. Let me make breakfast and I’ll sit with you.”

“I can do it.”

I shook my head. “No, but please, grab that Tylenol and I’ll get you some water.” I didn’t want to go anywhere near the glass-fronted cupboard with the reminder of the worst day of my life.

“If you’re sure,” Raven said, finally letting go.

“Go on. You need to sit. I can see the pain all over your face.” I turned away from him and walked over to the sink where the eggs were. Opening the large drawer beneath the Viking six-burner stove, the only modern appliance in the room other than a dishwasher, I pulled out a frying pan and started cooking scrambled eggs. I found some bread and made toast, adding a little dried basil to the eggs along with salt and pepper, topping them with a few sprinkles of cheddar I’d found in a package in the fridge. Not the healthiest thing I could have made for him, but Raven didn’t have an ounce of fat on him anyway.

I set the plates with our eggs and some orange juice down on the kitchen table and slid into the booth across from Raven. I could feel him studying me and knew I owed him an explanation. Instead, I decided to buy myself some time and dug into my eggs, shoveling them in until the plate was empty as Raven ate silently across from me. I looked at the dry toast and realized that’s what I should have eaten instead. My stomach was roiling. When I finally looked up, he was still watching me. I lifted my hand and ran my fingers through my hair before leaning back in the booth.

“I’m sorry about that. I owe you an explanation.”

Raven frowned at me. “Only if you want to, Miguel,” he quietly replied.

I turned and glanced at the glass-fronted cabinets before dragging my gaze back to his worried blue eyes. “It was the china pattern. I guess—I guess it triggered a flashback.”

Raven turned to look at the cabinet, then glanced back with a furrowed brow. “My grandmother’s china?”

I nodded. “My mother had the same pattern on her china.” I took a deep breath. I didn’t like sharing what had happened with anyone. Vonne was the only person I’d told about it, but he was practically family. “A little over twenty years ago, home invaders broke into our house. They killed both of my parents and destroyed everything breakable before stealing my mother’s jewelry and my father’s watch. The things they took weren’t worth much. We weren’t wealthy. We lived in a middle-class neighborhood in Atwater Village.”

“Near Dodger Stadium?”

I nodded. “Like I said, it wasn’t the things they took…it was how they died…what they did to them.” I heard my voice quiver as I pictured the scene. I shook my head, looking at my lap, all my appetite gone.

Raven gasped, putting a hand over his mouth. “Oh, Miguel, how awful.”

“I was in high school. I’d stayed late for football practice or I would have been home to save them.”

“You were just a teenager, right? You probably would have been killed too.” His eyes were sad and filled with pity.

I nodded. “I was fifteen, almost sixteen. I was big, played football, and thought I was invincible, but you’re right. Cassidysaid therehadto be more than one. My father was a big guy, even bigger than I am now. He worked in construction, so he was in great shape. If he knew my mom was in danger, there’s no way he wouldn’t have tried to fight.” I shook my head. “There had to be at least two if not three or more.”

“That’s how you know Cassidy Ryan,” Raven said as if coming to a revelation.

“And Mike Williams.” I nodded. “They were the first officers to respond. Cassidy was a rookie LAPD cop, having just left the Navy. I don’t know if you know that he was a SEAL. The minute I met him…just the way he was with me that day, man, I was really messed up.”

“I didn’t know he was a SEAL. That’s impressive.”

I nodded. “Anyway, Mike was his training officer, and they were the first to respond.” I dropped my head from Raven’s gaze, looking down at my empty plate and feeling my stomach do a slow roll. “If it hadn’t been for their consistent presence in my life after that day, I might have gone down the wrong path. They didn’t just drop me in a group home and leave me to rot or let me run the streets. Cassidy made me agree to a standing Sunday morning pick-up game in the LAPD’s gym and after that, breakfast with him and Mike.”

I smiled, remembering those breakfasts. “Basketball and pancakes. I met other cops and a lot of guys who were retired military. Instead of running the streets or getting involved with the wrong kids, they kept me on the straight and narrow and made it known how they felt about it when I stepped out of line. They followed my grades, helped me apply for a football scholarship, the whole nine yards. My parents didn’t have any family here in the States, so those two men stepped in and filled the gap. I love them both like fathers.”

“Thank God for Cassidy and Mike.”

“They still look out for me.” I drank my orange juice. Raven looked like he wanted to ask something but was hesitant. “It’s okay. Ask me what you want to ask.”

“Did they ever find the people who killed your folks?” His words were quiet as if worried that he was being too nosy. Now that the worst of it was out, I didn’t mind telling him.

I shook my head. “No, Cassidy told me they must have worn gloves, and a canvass of the neighbors turned up almost no leads. It remains a cold case.”