2. Nash
two
nash
D raining the last of my bitter beer, my body doesn’t hesitate to let me know that I’ve overindulged and should’ve gone home a while ago. I’m not as young as I once was, and I’ll be regretting this in the morning. A few of the guys had invited me to go with them after a long shift at the firehouse. Today was particularly brutal with two structure fires and assisting a tourist that overestimated their swimming abilities and had to be rescued. I love my job, but some days take it out of me.
The blaring music in the bar resonates with a pounding headache. Yep, officially time to go.
Alejandro, the newest member of my crew, is deep in conversation with a pretty blonde when I approach him. His hands move rapidly as he speaks, something that we always tease him about.
“Hey Al,” I shout over the noise. “I’m going to head out.”
Al’s gaze bounces between me and the blonde, looking conflicted. “Are you good to drive, Cap?”
I have to stifle a laugh. “I’m going to walk. You stay here and keep your new friend company.” I pat him on the shoulder.
“Will do. Have a good night.” He grins, resuming his animated conversation. I pay my tab and say goodnight before heading out.
I’m too tired and buzzed to drive myself home, so I make my way down the road to my buddy Jack’s house. We’ve been friends for years, and I crash in his guest room on the rare occasion that I need it. The cool breeze coming off of the ocean cuts straight through my work jacket, making me shiver.
“Shit, it’s getting cold out here.” Shoving my fists into my pockets, I pick up the pace until his cottage comes into view.
I text J that I’m here even though he probably won’t see it until the end of his shift. I include a promise of a delicious breakfast for his troubles.
Now, all I need is to find that damn gnome in the backyard where he keeps his spare key. How he hasn’t had his house broken into is beyond me. Everyone in the tri-state area knows about his secret hiding spot, but folks around here are too kind to do anything like that.
“Where are you, you little weirdo?” I mutter, using the flashlight on my phone to guide me. After almost face planting on rocks and tree roots multiple times, I think I spot his faded red hat.
Picking up the possessed looking ceramic bastard, I snag the key and quietly let myself in. It’s almost tempting to spread out on the couch, but my back will never forgive me. It sucks getting older. Crossing to the kitchen, I flip the light switch on, but immediately regret it.
“Fuck,” I mutter after blinding myself.
Fumbling to turn it back off, I decide that maneuvering about the house in darkness is my best bet. I gulp down a glass of water and feel my way to the guest room. Barely making out the outline of the bed, an addicting sweet scent reaches my nose. Like honey straight from the hive. It must be some fancy room spray that Jack’s mom gave him. That woman is trying to class up her son, but she has her work cut out for her.
Pulling back the soft covers on the bed, I lower myself down onto the comfortable mattress. My tired eyes are about to close when a blood curdling scream cuts through the quiet, and a small fist slams into my face.