SEAN

Not until I hear her voice standing right beside me do I know I’m not alone. “Sean?” A beer is placed in my hand.

From habit alone my fingers close around the aluminum as Celia takes an old wooden chair to my right, watching me until I finally mumble, “Thanks.”

“It’s spilling.”

My gaze flicks to my lap. Didn’t feel the cold liquid drenching my thigh until I see it happening. I’m in no hurry to straighten the can, bring it to my lips and sip.

“Sean, talk to me. I’m worried.” No clue how much time passes before she tries again, her voice gentler, “Please talk to me. Are you horrified?”

“I’ve seen some dark things. Not like you have…but I’m not naïve.”

“Then what is it? Let me help you. I really don’t want this to be the end of the line with you and the Ciphers.”

A deep frown slices my forehead. “I don’t want that!”

“Then you better snap out of it. They’re going to think you’re too soft for this. You can talk to me. I won’t tell anyone what you say. You’re in shock. If you talk it out we can work through it.”

Setting the beer on the table I rake my hair back, don’t even feel the goose-egg. There’s no light illuminating the yard tonight. The moon is shrouded by clouds, so I’m staring into darkness but seeing instead me begging his heart to beat again.

Unable to believe it wasn’t a nightmare I rasp, “I saved that man’s life.”

“It was amazing!”

“No,” I choke, “I saved his life!”

“I know!” She reaches for my knee. “You did a great thing!”

“That man I saved, Mr. Russo you called him. His first name is Carlo. He used to beat me when I was a teenager. And today I saved his fuckin’ life.”

Stunned she retrieves her hand, whispers a pained, “That’s why you were staring at him like that?”

“My whole life I’ve promised myself that if I ever came up on him again, I’d kick the shit out of him. I was just a kid. This tall.” I hold my arm out to the height. “And he left bruises on all the places clothes could hide.”

“Sean!” She falls against the back of her chair at the horror of it, then like an angel who knows what I need, flies up, hugs me, kneeling by my chair. Pulling back she holds my eyes with beautiful empathy in hers. “I’m so sorry!”

“Why didn’t I let him die?”

“You saw how he’d ended up, how terrible his life had become.”

“Yeah,” I rasp at the memory of his frail body hovering near the edge. “And his son, he didn’t know what Carlo did to me. Maybe he was a good father to his kid! I lost my dad. It damaged me. I would be robbing this guy who called us, of his father! But that bastard! That fucking bastard who scared the shit out of me when I was just a kid—couldn’t defend myself—there he was being sucked dry by someone worse. He became the victim, Ceels! He was the victim! I can’t get my head around it! It’s a lot of years of hatred to let go of, you know?”

Celia whispers, “It’s okay, I’m here.”

“The alarm went off. I realized instantly what that meant—that he was dying—and I didn’t think twice! That’s what gets me, you know? There was only one option, like it was a reflex! Even as I was breathing my air into his fucked up lungs I thought, let him die! Let him die!”

“Oh God, Sean.”

“But I couldn’t. He was the victim, and that’s who we save! You said we save those who can’t save themselves. And that man couldn’t fight back. That bitch was bleeding him dry and taking him away from his family, and he couldn’t do anything about it. I had to help.”

We’re startled by Jett’s deep and somber voice. “Fuckin’ hell.” He appears from around the side of the house’s foundation where he was spying on us. Celia grips her armrests as we watch him, his frown more visible in the broken patches of mesh walls as he makes his way to the entrance of the enclosed porch. Stepping inside, wood creaks under his boots as sharp grey eyes stay locked on me. “Sean, not going to apologize for listening in. You’re on trial, that’s just how it is. I saw there was something off with you tonight. Can’t have a loose cannon in the house, but I had to wait for the right person to get it out of you, and that’s Celia.”

Our eyes fly to each other, mine furious, hers imploring as she reaches for my hand. “No, he didn’t send me out here! I had no idea he was listening, I swear! All of this was real! I wasn’t faking anything!”

Jett squats between our chairs. “Calm down, kid. I didn’t send her.” He pauses. “We’re having a party in there but you looked like someone died. Now I know why. I’m a tough nut to crack, but you just hit it with a pretty good sized hammer. That sense of humanity and empathy you showed today, I want that on my side.” He pauses, dragging his fingers through his white hair. “Fuck, I can’t imagine what you’re going through with that.” Locking eyes with me he holds a second to really connect with me. “This is the way I figure it—you may not have been able to get the vengeance you thought you wanted, but you found forgiveness, and that’s a hell of a lot more powerful. There’s this old saying—resentment is like drinking poison and hoping the other person dies. You set the poison down today. Find some peace in that.” He rises, exhales and shakes his head. “You’re still not in…but keep it up. Celia, give him something stronger than that beer, would yah? I know I need a drink after that.” He walks away.

Ceels is staring at me, and as soon as Jett disappears inside the house, she urgently whispers, “I swear he didn’t send me out here.”

“I know. I believed him. And you.” Standing up I frown, “Forget that drink he mentioned. I’m gonna take a walk. Alone.”

“Sure, okay,” she quietly says as I head out.