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“Nope, I call it. We’re hitting the beach. Was it a busy night?”
“Not really.”
“Then why do you look as if you’ve only gotten an hour’s sleep?”
I looked from my cousin to the floor. I wanted to tell him why, but figured I’d just leave it alone. I didn’t even know how to digest seeing Bailey again. When I’d heard she was coming back, I figured she’d bail or, if she returned, I’d be over her after all this time. I figured that the revolving turn-style my bedroom door had become screamed that. But one look into those baby blues of hers and, well, all I needed to do was look at myself in the mirror to know that I was far from over her. She’d had the same effect on me the first time I’d laid my eyes on her in high school.
“Because that’s about all I’ve gotten.” I muttered.
“Well, to make you and I feel better, go get your ass changed, and let’s get going. It’s a beautiful morning, and we both could use the air,” Cameron said, standing up and heading into the kitchen.
“Where are you going?”
“To make a shake. I had no protein powder left.” Cameron chuckled.
“You never have any left.” I chuckled. “In fact, I think I went through my last container twice as fast as the one before. While you’re out there, make me one too,” I yelled as I made my way down to the bedroom to get changed.
* * *
The sun beat down on me and sweat poured down my back as we continued our brisk pace across the wet sand. I allowed myself to connect with the sound of the ocean, my breathing, and the pounding of my heart. Soon, the thoughts of Bailey were gone, and I finally felt like myself again. Cameron had been right. This run, this time, had been exactly what I needed.
As we approached our starting point, Cameron nodded to the main snack bar along the edge of the beach. I nodded, and we made our way over, grabbing a cold bottle of water from their fridge. I dropped money on the counter for both bottles, nodding to the young girl behind the counter, who gave me a smile. We made our way over to a table in the shade.
“Fuck, that was a fantastic run,” Cameron said, breathing hard as he twisted the cap off the bottle and drank down the cool liquid.
“It really was,” I agreed and looked out over the water. The few clouds that had been in the sky had cleared, and the water was now like glass. The cooler sea air felt good against my sweaty skin.
“You all right, bro?”
I shrugged as, once again, the thoughts of Bailey invaded my mind all because I was watching a girl who looked like her set up a spot on the beach.
“I guess.”
“You guess? My gut was right. You are off. What’s going on with you today? Work related?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know? Are you still having those nightmares?” he questioned, resorting to the obvious of what normally bothered me.
I turned and met my cousin’s eyes and nodded, half in truth. “They are always the same. I get to the end of the alley, where Connor is tucked behind a car. I can’t get a good look at the guy, and then shots ring out, and down he goes. He calls for help. I look around the corner, and no one is there, so I go to him.”
I close my eyes at the memory of rolling him over because he was choking, only to take pressure off the gunshot wound that ended his life. “We never should have rolled him over,” I said, shaking my head. “That rule had been ingrained in us during first-aid course and every course there after: never move a victim.”
“Look, you guys didn’t know that the bullet had nicked the femoral artery. There would have been nothing anyone could have done, even if he had been in a hospital. The second the paramedics would have loaded him onto the stretcher, he would have bled out. It was just the pressure from his body, the way he’d been positioned, that slowed the bleeding. Even if it had been the paramedics that moved him, it would have happened. It’s not your fault.”
“I know, and I’ve paid thousands of dollars in therapy to learn that.” I looked over at the girl who now sat on her beach blanket in her sweats, reading a book. “It’s just the dream the other night was different.”
“How so?”
I could feel my heart already racing as the memory of the dream crept slowly back into my mind, like a movie playing out. “Ryan and Grant disappeared, and I was alone in that alley with Connor. He was laying there lifeless on the pavement. I kept yelling for him to wake up and screaming for help, but no one came. Then everything around me became crystal clear and silent, and Connor sat straight up and looked right into my eyes. He asked me why I hadn’t done what he’d asked. He just kept repeating those words to me. Then I woke up.”
I’d talked to Cameron at length about what had happened that night. He knew everything. After all, he had been one firefighter on duty that night. He probably knew more about that night than the therapist that Grant and Ryan had finally talked me into seeing. He had been the only one I felt I could really talk to about that night. He’d seen trauma, he’d dealt with his own.
“You know, these dreams always come back around this time. I mean, we are only, what, about three months away from the anniversary of that night?” Cameron questioned.
“I know.”
“So don’t read into it. You know they happen every year. You need to just put it to the back of your mind and carry on. If the memories invade your mind, then you need to put your focus on something else before it gets out of control and consumes you.”
