Page 22 of Help Me Remember
“We have a sort of rehab program I help with at the clinic. He was trying to kick the habit hard last year, wanted to do some actual, real work to help his family instead of gangbanging. I thought I’d gotten through to him and got him back on the right path. Maybe I did, but he’s clearly back off it.”
I didn’t miss the bitterness in his voice and cleared my throat. “Were you and him…”
“Together?”
“Yeah.”
“Does it matter?”
Yes, yes, it does. “No, it doesn’t matter. Not really.”
Eric sighed, shaking his head. “Saying not really means it does matter.”
“I’m uncomfortable with you getting involved with a drug addict and gangbanger,” I told him. It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either, though the complete picture still eluded me.
Eric stopped at the next light a little sharply. “That’s none of your business.”
“I’m allowed to give a shit,” I told him, crossing my arms over my chest. “But I guess that answers my question.”
“The fuck it does,” Eric said, taking off with another jolt of the car. “Nothing happened between us if you must know.”
“You don’t sound happy about that,” I observed.
“God, we’re just full of invasive questions today,” he snapped, flicking on his blinker at the intersection with enough force I was amazed the stick didn’t snap right off. “Nothing happened. We got close. I got the feeling he wanted something from me. But the kind of life he had growing up didn’t let him admit that sort of thing, so nothing happened. And before you try to give me shit because of what you just saw, I don’t think I need to remind you how you found yourself the other day.”
“That’s not—”
“What, fair? No, you’re right, none of this is fair. People’s lives aren’t fair. But I’m still going to give people the benefit of the doubt and try to believe in them when they need it most, even if they disappoint me. And as someone who looks really guilty despite neither of us knowing what happened, I’d think you’d be damn grateful for that.”
“I am grateful,” I snapped at him, taking offense.
“Good, then start showing it and stop lecturing me like an idiot child,” he shot back.
“You’re ridiculous,” I said, turning my head away. Sure, it was a little impressive that he could be as passionate as he was compassionate, but it didn’t make me feel any better. He was willingly endangering himself for people I firmly believed wouldn’t show him a sliver of the same courtesy. Ryan might have regretted the idea of doing something to injure Eric for our interference, but regret wouldn’t have stopped him from going along with his friends in the end.
Regret and guilt didn’t bring a victim back from the dead.
“And I would love to know where the hell you learned to fight like that,” Eric added as he waited for traffic to clear enough for him to make the next turn.
“You and me both,” I grumbled, lapsing into silence as I watched the congestion thicken around us.
CHAPTER FIVE
The silence that accompanied our return to Eric’s apartment was as uncomfortable as it was deafening. The exhaustion I’d seen around Eric when he left his shift only seemed to increase as he walked into the apartment without a word. Just as silently, he slunk into the bathroom, closing the door and turning on the shower.
Not wanting to make the situation worse, I used the kitchen sink to clean my hands. The fight in the alley had marked them, and I hadn’t realized I was bleeding from a few of my knuckles until I washed away the grime and dirt. I was otherwise untouched, however, and I stood there, slowly drying my hands with a small towel, staring at them in wonder and curiosity.
Just who the hell am I?
I had no idea how long I would have stood there absently pondering that question as it haunted me if a thump from the bathroom hadn’t pulled me out of my reverie. I placed the towel back where I found it and waited for Eric. He emerged a few minutes later in a pair of loose pants and a shirt that hung off him. The shower had taken some of the exhaustion from his features, but his brow was furrowed as he walked past me to grab something to eat.
Sensing he wanted to be left alone, I drifted into the bedroom, the only space I could consider a sanctuary. It was still a little early for me to think about sleeping, but I lay down on the bed in the dark, staring up at the ceiling. Occasionally I heard Eric moving around the apartment, and I wondered what he was doing when I heard a faint scrape and then, a few minutes later, the soft thump of something being set down carelessly.
When I didn’t hear much else from him, I turned my attention to the sounds coming from the open window. The neighbors were still blasting the same music I’d heard earlier, and I wondered if someone was having a party or if they just really liked listening to loud music. There was a squeal of tires and then the sound of two men arguing ferociously down the street. I listened carefully to see if it would escalate, but eventually, they grew quiet, and I listened to the distant sound of honks and the occasional shout of someone on the street.
I had nearly tricked myself into dozing off when I heard the soft scuff of bare feet on tile. Opening my eyes, I saw Eric standing in the doorway, frowning at the floor. His arms were crossed over his chest as he leaned against the frame, and I wondered how long he’d been sitting out there in almost that exact pose.
“I forgot to thank you,” he said softly, still looking at the floor.