Dad's EMT Best Friend Read online

  I can see my dad’s truck parked right behind Kit’s.

  He’s here.

  He’s come back while I slept.

  I feel my mouth go dry and I feel sick again, like I need the bathroom but it’s only the realization that I have to face my dad, knowing that he already knows somehow. Knowing that Kit’s gone too.

  But where?

  I creep along the hall, my head down, fumbling with the cord on my robe as I twist it nervously, desperately trying to come up with something to tell dad. Who I know before I even get there, is waiting for me at the kitchen table.

  He looks old. Older than I know he is. His face looks gray and his EMT uniform is covered in mud, grime and what looks like dried blood.

  He looks terrible. His eyes are staring ahead, faraway but I know he can see me as I walk over to the table.

  “How long?” is all he says, his voice is thin, but with a sharpness to it that I don’t like. It’s not how I like dad to sound, not talking to me anyway.

  “Excuse me?” I ask him, trying not to sound short, but I can’t help it. If I was hoping to have this out with him without conflict, I guess I got it wrong.

  “How long have you been fucking Kit for!” he roars, making me jump and almost run back into my room.

  The sound of him yelling is met with more thunder and a huge bolt of lightning across the whole lake. It’s spectacular, but I know I can’t get out of the storm that I’m inside.

  “That’s between me and Kit,” I hear myself saying, drawing the collar of my robe up around my neck, wishing I’d gotten dressed first, maybe had a shower. But how was I to know?

  Dad shakes his head to himself, a bitter little laugh escaping his lips, “I should’ve known really… the way he looked at you when we left… that damned picture of him on your phone, oh yes! Bree, I know a lot of things that you don’t think I notice… You think I’m stupid, don’t ya?”

  I feel hurt, like there’s a shooting pain in my chest and belly.

  “Dad, please… don’t say that… let’s just sit here and talk about it… I…”

  But I don’t think he hears me, he’s so mad he’s beyond shouting anymore. He sounds so cold, so distant and I can feel myself starting to cry. I never wanted to hurt my dad, not in a million years. Since mom left, I’ve always tried to make sure he never gets upset, we always made sure we never so much as raised our voices. Until now.

  “I thought he would stay here with you, look after you so you didn’t get scared with the storm… I left him here, made sure of it… this storm’s terrible Bree came outta nowhere. I would never have come up here if it’d been forecast… Never come up here if I’d known you would…”

  “Stop it!” I shout, as another crackle of thunder tears through the air, “I love Kit, dad. I’m an adult now and I don’t need your permission to do anything… He loves me too, we would’ve told you… it all just happened so fast.”

  He looks up at me, finally. His eyes as cold as his words, like he’s disowned me, like he doesn’t love me. I feel like something inside me breaks. I want Kit here, I need him now more than ever.

  “Where’s Kit?” I ask dad, resolving that if we have to have this conversation, we may as well get it all out in the open, get the hurting done so we can all move on with our lives.

  Mine and Kit’s included. I’m his woman now, and he’s my man. End of story.

  “He’s gone…” dad trails off. “I hit him, told him you can’t love him, you can’t have him… he went… he left… he’s gone…”

  How can he have gone? I didn’t hear anything.

  The weather outside reminds me how come I didn’t hear anything. It’s like a hurricane out there now, and Kit’s out there?

  “Tell me where Kit is, daddy… Tell me right now!” I bark at him, but he’s crying now, shaking his head, looking more beat up than the day I remember he found out mom had gone away. I was so young, but I’ll never forget his face that day.

  This time, today, he looks even worse.

  I shake him by the shoulders, trying to snap him out of it, “Tell me where he is!” I scream, my hand raised, ready to slap some sense into him when he slowly lifts his eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Bree. He’s gone.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Kit

  I wish I could sleep like Bree through this storm. I’ve always been an early riser, so I risk waking her by taking my arm back from under her and get up. I wash the dishes, and have a shower, checking the time, then my phone. Making another twenty excuses not to call Mark in my mind.

  I glance at the empty fireplace, he’ll know something’s up if I don’t get a fire going. Weather like this, Bree and me sitting around an empty fireplace, our teeth chattering? I don’t think so, and I know Mark wouldn’t buy that story either.

  But I don’t want to tell him stories. I’ve claimed Bree, she’s mine now. I just have to tell him straight up. Man to man.

  If he doesn’t like it…

  Hearing his truck pull up, even over the weather, I figure now’s as good a time as any. I quickly change from my bath towel to track pants and a sweatshirt, softly closing Bree’s door as I pass it.

  I’ve known Mark most of my life, and as soon as his eyes meet mine once he’s opened the door, he knows.

  I know he knows, and he knows that I know he knows.

  The game is up.

  Was she worth it? I can almost hear him thinking it as I watch his hands clench into fists.

  Hell yeah she’s worth it. There is no ‘was.’ She is worth everything.

  Without giving me a second glance, Mark drops his bag next to the one I never unpacked by the front door and going around through the front room, then through the kitchen, he checks in my room behind me. He ducks his head in the doorway, stopping only to glance in on Bree in her room on his way back to the kitchen.

  “Kit,” he calls out, only loud enough so I can hear him over the storm, careful not to shout and wake Bree up, but I do register his tone. It’s his kick ass voice he’s got on.

  I take a breath, and remind myself to keep calm, no matter what happens.

  He’s sitting at the head of the table once I get there.

  “Your bed’s awfully neat, Kit. And the bag you packed for the whole weekend, sitting right by the front door… leaving early, or you never even slept in it?” His tone is strange, strange to me.

  I’ve had guys get heavy with me plenty of times, emotions tend to run high on the job. But I never thought I’d hear Mark speaking like this to me though.

  “Look, Mark…” I start to say, figuring now has to be the moment.

  “No!” He calls out, holding up his hand, “You listen to me, Kit. I just finished a twelve hour stretch, not sitting down once, hauling ass to make sure good, hard-working people got someplace safe, got the help they needed… Don’t fucking ‘Look Mark’ me when I get back here… when it’s almost the middle of the god damned afternoon and Bree’s asleep… pretty obvious to what’s been fuckin’ goin’ on!”

  I breathe deep again, giving him all the time he needs to get it off his chest before I say anything, it’s pointless trying to argue the obvious, like he says.

  Mark’s shorter than I am, but we’re the same age. I know he could still beat me at wrestling, in the ring with a ref, but right now, in our lake house? I don’t even want to go there.

  I don’t want to come to blows with my best friend.

  The truth is hurting us both enough, I can tell.

  His emotions are getting the better of him, and I can see silver in his deep blue eyes, “Just tell me you didn’t Kit… I couldn’t live with myself if I knew that you… That Bree…”

  I want to go to him, to hug him and tell him it’s just something that’s happened, that it’s a shock for him but I really do love Bree. I’m gonna take care of her from now on.

  I move over to him, my hand out to touch his shoulder, but he’s up in a second, the chair falling backwards behind him. His hands are
fists and he’s not in the mood for hugs, I can just tell.

  “C’mon Mark…” I say gently, “Let’s calm down a little… talk…”

  “I want you out of this house, d’ya hear!” he hisses at me, his eyes wild suddenly.

  “Mark.”

  “No! Don’t fucking ‘Mark’ me, you prick…. I want you and your truck outta my god damned driveway or I’ll…”

  “Or you’ll what?” I ask, suddenly feeling like maybe I’ve had enough of him speaking to me like this, like maybe it’s half my lake house too, which it really is. Every nail, every board. Every stroke with a brush in this place is as much mine as it is Mark’s.

  And Bree’s, of course.

  “Just get out!” He snaps again, his jaw grinding as I can see him going red, his whole body shaking with rage.

  Mark’s not into cardio like I am, and I worry for a moment about his heart, but when I see his fist coming then feel it connect with my nose when I move over to him, that’s when I figure it’s time to leave.

  Time out.

  If I stay one second longer, I know I’ll break something more than his heart.

  I growl in pain, but more from anger than anything else.

  “Why’d you do that!” I ask him, noticing the crimson splotches on the floor, then all down my front.

  He’s busted it alright, I can feel it.

  Through the haze of red in front of me, I can see his wild eyes as he grips my shirtfront.

  “I want you out, now!” he growls, and he pushes me backwards, almost making me stumble but I’ve had enough already. I’m not going to make a bad situation worse.

  I’ll come back in a while for Bree.

  I stagger to the door, find my keys and grab my bag. I don’t even have to heave the front door, it's blown open as I release the latch, the storm front piercing the whole house as well as the pain in face as soon as it opens.

  Grimacing from the pain, I groan out loud as I see Mark’s truck parked behind mine.

  Well, I won’t be going that way anytime soon.

  I look back, and see Mark wrestling with the door, the mat caught up in it, but I can’t look at him right now. I have to leave, he’s right. I need to go calm down somewhere else, then come back once he’s settled some, take Bree and we can go back to mine, sort everything out later.

  “You’re suspended! Effective immediately!” I hear him calling out. He calls out something else, about my bag, but I can’t hear him over the howling wind. I get to a crossway in what’s left of the trails around the boundary of the lake house, I can’t believe it. It looks like half the hillside’s been washed right away overnight.

  It’s not safe to stay here.

  I feel it in my bones, but I reason a little water is less dangerous right now, compared to Mark in a mood so black, it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen in him before.

  I only hope he doesn’t act the same way with Bree.

  I’ll give him an hour to cool down, then head back. Bree and me, we’re outta here.

  I growl again, once it registers how cold all that rain is, riding straight down my back.

  I forgot my waterproof and the sting in my nose is spreading to my whole face, icy cold sheets of sharp rain stabbing into me aren’t what I’m in the mood for either.

  I’ll head to higher ground, there’s plenty of trees, plenty of overhanging rocks to shelter under.

  Hang on Bree. Just give your dad time to settle down a little, I’ll be right back.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Bree

  “What do you mean ‘gone’ Dad?” I feel my hand lowering, along with my voice. This is no time to panic, not now. Dad needs me, Kit needs me.

  I need Kit though, like about five minutes ago… right now.

  After some more tears, I finally get it out of dad, “Kit’s gone Bree… I know what you two did, at least… Well. It’s done now, isn’t it? I told him to go and he went.”

  “Went where?” I ask, starting to feel my patience disappearing, as my voice raises.

  “Out there,” Dad says, staring vacantly out the window, across the lake.

  He’s making no sense, but alarm bells are ringing in my head. My heart’s thumping again except now it’s for all the wrong reasons.

  I know Kit can look after himself, but I also know he wouldn’t go charging off into weather like this, not without a good reason.

  I notice the blood on the floor as I go back to my room, determined to get dressed properly and go find Kit myself.

  I’m about as outdoors as gas heating and dishwashers.

  I’m not. But Kit’s out there, and hurt by the looks of things. I’m not thinking clearly either, I know that much, but I can’t just sit around like my dad. I need to find him.

  The storm outside growls more thunder, another sharp crack of lightning fills the lake as if to test my resolve once I decide I’m heading out.

  “I’m going to find him daddy, I don’t know what you did, but we’ll talk when I get back.”

  By the time it registers with him what I’ve just said, where I’m heading, I can hardly hear him over the howling wind. I’m halfway up what I think is the trail I remember, the one leading up to the road, but it’s so hard to tell.

  I can make out what sounds like my dad calling my name, but I don’t care anymore, I want Kit. I need Kit.

  The weather’s already ripped through my outdoors ensemble, and I feel cold, wet and miserable after less than a minute, but the fire in my heart and in my belly is determined to get to Kit, whatever it takes.

  I call out, realizing quickly how dumb an idea coming out here is.

  Did Kit really come out here in this?

  I passed his truck and he definitely wasn’t in it, and there’s only a few choices when it comes to the trails that are left, the rest of the hillside looks like a torrent, with fresh mud streaming like water from all sides. The lake house being on a narrow strip of land jutting out to the lake itself is the only reason we never noticed. Everything washes straight down two narrow gullies, right into the lake.

  I turn back to look down to the house, but all I can see is the gray haze of rain mixed with the brown slippery mud, which I fall down into a few dozen times in as many minutes, kidding myself I make my way up the side of the hill.

  I’m still mad with dad though, and when it becomes clear that I’m lost, and in real danger of losing my way, I decide to head back down.

  It’s too dangerous. Kit must’ve made his way back by now, I tell myself.

  I just need to take the next fork to the right.

  But there isn’t one. There’s a bank of trees and nothing but mud underneath and thick woodland behind.

  I call out for Kit again, then my dad. Then again for Kit.

  I’m not mad anymore.

  I’m lost and I’m scared.

  I remember dad telling me to stay put if I ever got lost, but I need some shelter and fast, otherwise I’ll get sick, I know that much.

  It’s not my imagination, but the weather actually does worsen, with the rain doubling and the wind blowing so hard now, I can’t even hear let alone see straight in front of me. I’m screaming for help now, anyone will do.

  I don’t regret coming to look for Kit, but I do wish I knew what I was doing sometimes. I wished I’d paid more attention when dad was going on about all that survival stuff, which I’m pretty positive included things like don’t get emotional and go rushing out into hurricanes unprepared.

  I catch a glimpse of what looks like a path, but it heads up to some higher ground, which suits me the way this water’s pouring off the hillside. I take it, and passing a vaguely familiar section of broken down gate, I figure I must be heading someplace where there’s shelter.

  Something in me makes me stop, I feel edgy about taking this way for some reason, I can see Kit in my mind, begging me to tell him what I’m doing, but I figure I’m just scared.

  I tear off a strip of my blouse, from underneath my coat and tie it onto the
old broken down gate.

  If Kit does come this way, I hope he recognizes the lace pattern or something… it might leave a clue as to where I’m headed…

  Before too long, I realize I’ve gone from dumb to dumber. I call out for Kit until I can’t scream anymore, my throat’s burning. I’m burning up too, I feel so cold and then so hot. I want to tear my clothes off, but then I get so cold I’m shivering.

  I catch sight of a dark patch in the rain, a cave? No, it’s a tunnel. I think I know where I am now… the last place anyone would look for me, the disused mine on the bad side of the hill. We call it that, because nobody ever comes here, they shouldn’t anyway. That gate I just passed must’ve been all the signage telling people to stay out.

  Great.

  You’re a genius, Bree… really. You’ve gone and done it again, congratulations.

  My heart leaps when I hear what sounds like Kit calling my name, but it could be just the wind. I call back, try to anyway. My throat’s red raw from shouting and I feel so tired.

  I step forward, out of the rain and into the tunnel, hearing my voice echo back down the tunnel as the ground under me gives way.

  The last thought I have is of Kit.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Kit

  I shake my head, my teeth chattering inside it. I’m trained to know better than this, I’m a fucking expert for Christ’s sake.

  My saving grace is I picked up Mark’s medic bag instead of my own when I left, it’s the same type of bag, just filled with better stuff.

  I stop and trade my soaked hoodie for the thermal blanket poncho which is also weatherproof. I can’t do much about my pants for now, and my sneakers, well… they’re ruined already.

  Five minutes more of this and I decide that no argument or bop on the nose is worth risking my life for. I decide to head back the way I came, deciding to have a hot shower and hope that Mark’s simmered down enough. We can discuss things like adults, and either way, we should think about preparing ourselves some more for what’s coming with this weather, or make plans to leave.

  That’s the sensible, logical thing to do.