Chapter Ten
It took two days for the novelty to wear off and for him to remember how much he hated being a barista. ‘A job was a job’ was the mantra he kept telling himself. He was just taking his break on the fourth day, munching his way through an apple, when Harry took a seat beside him in the shop’s small break room.
He set an envelope down on the table between them. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut your trial short.”
They were the last words Drew had been expecting, and he choked on a piece of apple, coughing to clear it.
“What? Why?” He couldn’t help his indignation. He’d been doing a good job, he knew he had. He’d been on time, there’d been no trouble. Customers were happy or so his tip jar suggested.
“I’ve been having it out with the owner all morning but they’re adamant. Promised me they’d have someone in place the day after tomorrow.”
“Did they give a reason?” Maybe the owner had popped by and seen the state of his face.
“None that made sense. Might be they had someone in mind, relative or kid of a friend or something. They don’t normally go over my head, but there’s a first time for everything.”
Harry, at least, seemed disgruntled.
“I’ve paid you for four full days, but I don’t blame you if you want to finish up now and head home.”
“No.” Drew shook his head. “A day’s work for a day’s pay. I won’t leave you at a loose end for something outside your control.”
Harry stood, rocking back and forth on his heels for a moment. “It’s a shame. You make a damn good coffee.”
Then he was gone, leaving Drew to his own negative thoughts. It was just his bad luck to find three jobs and lose two in the space of a week. At least he still had the bar work. It wasn’t enough, but it was something.
For Sam, the decision to seek some advice about Matt wasn’t one that came easily. Matt had been outspoken in wanting to help himself and not wanting strangers to interfere. But things were only getting worse and Sam wasn’t sure what the next step was. The Veteran Affairs Center was a run down looking building but it was clear from the swinging of the doors as people came and went that it was as busy as always. He was standing outside contemplating going in when his phone rang, a familiar number flashing up on the screen.
“Hey, Theo.”
“Hey, bro.”
Sam rolled his eyes at that. “I do have a name, or have you forgotten?”
“I like bro, single syllable, gets to the point.”
“Right. How’s college?”
“Oh, the usual. The Professor is on a power trip over some new college regulation. We’re stuck in the middle trying to work out whether to do what he’s saying or do what the Dean is saying. I might do both, just to cover my bases.”
“Sounds challenging.”
“Got to work those angles. Anyway, enough about me. How are you? Being slowly driven mad by an untidy housemate?”
Theo had lived with him for a few months the summer before he’d started college. They’d come close to falling out over Theo’s neatness or distinct lack of any.
“Despite what you may think, most adults are capable to picking up after themselves, and don’t need their big brothers to nag them.”
Theo laughed. “He must be pretty intimidated by you.”
Sam didn’t quite manage a reply. It was clear Drew was pretty intimidated by this Russ guy. Sam would never want to induce that same fear that he’d seen in Drew’s face and heard in his voice.
“Sam? Are you still there? I was just kidding. You’re like a pussy cat, who’d be scared of you? Obviously, a six foot four, lethal, military-trained cat but... I’m going to stop talking now.”
“It’s fine, Theo. He, my roommate, is just having some issues.”
“Anything I can help with?”
“I don’t think so, but thanks all the same.”
“I take it you’re helping him.”
“How did you guess?”
“Because you’re Sam. It’s what you do, who you are.”
“So everyone keeps telling me. Anyway, was there a particular reason you called?”
“Mostly just to catch up. And to remind you about Dad’s sixtieth in November. The three of us need to sit down and decide what to get him. Molly has a few ideas and she’s better at the present buying than either of us, but I was thinking we should all make some effort.”
“Sounds good, let me know when, and I’ll try to make it.”
“Great. Take care of yourself, Sam. Remember you can’t take on everyone else’s problems for them, okay?”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
He had just hung up, deciding he had better get inside before they closed for lunch, when a voice rang out nearby.
“Sam?”
He turned, catching sight of a familiar face.
“Declan, it’s been a long time.”
He reached out to shake Declan’s hand but the other man tugged him into an embrace. “A very long time. You’re discharged now, right?”
“Right, you too?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you heading in?” He jerked his head towards the building.
“Just leaving, actually. I’m a volunteer counselor here two morning a week.”
“Wow, that’s really great.”
“It’s nice to give back. I’ve been pretty fortunate in how things have turned out. How about you, what are you up to these days?”
“I’m with the police force now. Emergency Task Force.”
Declan gave a low whistle. “ETF, huh? They set the entrance bar pretty high for that. Congratulations. How’s it going?”
“Good. Great. I’ve got a really good team, we work well together.”
“I heard a rumor Matt’s been seen around town.”
Sam wondered about that, and the knowing look in Declan’s eyes. Matt barely left his apartment these days.
“Yeah, he’s...” He paused, then took a chance. “He’s actually the reason I’m here. The past few weeks and months have been tough on him. He’s barely treading water. I wanted to get some advice.”
“Has he thought about counseling?”
“Thought about it, even made an appointment, but then wouldn’t go.”
“It can be hard to help someone when they don’t want to help themselves. That said, there are ways and means.”
Sam had an idea what that meant and wasn’t keen on it.
“I’m not sure we’re at that point yet.”
“Well, try to encourage him to come for counseling. Or one of the group sessions, maybe. There’s a timetable inside at reception. And if things are as bad as you say, see if you can get him into the doctor. There’s a lot of options these days, for medication and treatments. He doesn’t have to suffer in silence.”
Declan dug his hands into his pockets, pulling out a card with one and a pen with the other, scribbling quickly. “Here’s my card and my personal cell number. Call me anytime, okay?”
“Thanks, Declan. I appreciate that.”
“See you around, Sam.”
When Alan took him aside at the start of his shift, Drew knew he was in trouble.
“Listen, Drew, I’m really sorry to have to do this—”
“You’re letting me go.” That seemed to be the theme of the week.
“It’s not my decision. Karen, the owner, is insisting on it. But I wanted to warn you because it’s not run of the mill. Karen has no input in the day-to-day running usually but they put her under a lot of pressure over this.”
“Who did?” he asked, feeling his heart start to pound. He was right. This wasn’t a coincidence. Someone was doing this to him.
“I don’t know exactly. She got a call from one of the people who financed the bar’s renovations last year. She held out for a few days but they kept insisting and threatened to sell the loan and, what with interest rates being what they are, it would not have been in her favor. It sounds like you’ve pissed someone off, Drew. I’ll pay you for the rest of the week. No arguments,” he added, when Drew started to protest. “But Karen wants you off the premises as soon as possible and has requested that you don’t return. We won’t bar you, but if you come back here, we might be forced to. I’m really sorry Drew, truly.”
He was at a loss for what to say. He could tell Alan was curious but also worried. Whoever had got to Karen had put enough pressure on her to scare her.
Tucking the envelope into his jacket, he held out a hand. “Thanks for taking a chance on me. I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”
What else was there to say? This wasn’t Alan’s fault any more than this morning had been Henry’s. But at least now he knew it wasn’t just bad luck. Someone was pulling the puppet strings and Drew’s world was falling apart fast.
Stepping outside the bar and into the street, he steeled himself for the walk home in the crowded rush hour streets.
“Drew Sheppard?” a voice called.
Turning, he found a guy leaning against a lamppost near the curb.
“Are you Drew Sheppard?”
“Who wants to know?” he asked, bewildered.
The man just raised his eyebrows and didn’t answer, handing over an envelope before melting back into the crowd.
Holding it tightly in his hand, he started walking until he reached the nearest alleyway, ducking inside a few feet and examining the paper he’d just been handed. It was unremarkable. Just a plain white envelope, sealed, with nothing written on it. He opened it with care, finding a single white sheet folded within. Withdrawing it, he found his hands were shaking, and he took a deep breath to calm himself. It didn’t work, the paper burning between his finger and thumb. As he opened it, his heart sank at the familiar curved penmanship. Russell.
It only had five words, and a signature.
It’s time to come home. R
His first reaction was to search the immediate area for anyone watching him. People were passing by on the nearby street, but none of them were paying him any attention.
After reading the note again, he stuck it back in the envelope and in his pocket. He had to go, he had to get as far away from here as possible. Russell knew where he was, knew enough to be able to track his movements, to put pressure on his workplaces to fire him, and to have a note delivered right into the palm of his hand. It might already be too late to run, but he had to try.
As he walked back to the apartment, he watched constantly for signs he was being followed. Was that car beside him traveling too slowly? Was that man with the sunglasses looking at him funny?
But no one accosted him and he made it back without incident. He was more than a little relieved that Sam wasn’t home, knowing the other man would want an explanation. Something he didn’t have time for.
Packing was a matter of throwing everything into his backpack, paying no mind to anything but the time ticking away. He had enough money to get to the other end of the country but he’d tried that already and it hadn’t gotten him anywhere. The last two weeks were framed in a whole new light. Those men hadn’t followed him by chance, their use of his nickname wasn’t coincidence. They were designed to scare him into running back to Russell’s arms. And when he hadn’t, Russell got more determined, trying to pull away the supports that were keeping him going. First his jobs, what would be next? Would he go after Sam directly or put pressure on Sam’s landlord to take him to task for subletting to Drew? Sam had enough on his plate, he didn’t need that kind of hassle.
The sound of someone at the apartment door scattered his thoughts and set his heart racing faster. The door opened while he was halfway across his bedroom and he peeked out to see a familiar face.
“Matt?”
The other man jumped, easily as spooked as Drew. He was surprised to see him.
“Hi, Drew. I wasn’t expecting you to be home.”
“Yeah, neither was I. Sam isn’t here either, he’s on a late shift.”
Matt said, “I know,” then clamped his mouth shut leaving Drew wondering why the other man was there if he knew no one was in. He stepped closer, getting a better look at Matt. His face had a few days’ worth of beard growth, his hair was stuck to his scalp, and his clothes were in disarray.
“Is everything okay?” he asked.
“Oh, yeah. I just came to leave this for Sam.” He held up an envelope. Given Drew’s own recent brush with envelopes, the sight of it made him shiver.
“So I’ll just put it on the table and maybe you’ll tell him it’s there when he gets home?”
There was something about Matt’s expression. The false cheer, the look in his eyes, that had alarm bells going off in Drew’s head.
“Why don’t you wait here with me until he gets back? We could order pizza or something? I think there’s a replay of Saturday’s game on.”
Matt was like a fish out of water, staring at him open mouthed while he tried to frame a response.
“I… no… really…”
His reaction only turned Drew's vague concerns into something more concrete. Drew took a gamble, coming as close to saying outright what he guessed the note held.
“Matt, I don’t think Sam wants to come home to a note like that. I think he’d much rather come home to a couple of friends waiting for him.”
“I… I can’t. I can’t do this anymore, Drew. I’ve tried and I’m just so fucking tired.”
All thoughts of running fled. There was no way he could leave Matt alone like this.
“Why don’t we sit down and talk? There’s no rush here, Matt. There is so much time. I’d hate to think Sam missed you for want of a few hours.”
Matt gave one short, sharp nod and took a seat on the couch. Drew sat down right next to him. He wasn’t an expert at this sort of stuff, he didn’t really know what to say, but he was damned sure he could listen. Maybe it would be enough to keep Matt there until Sam came home.