2011: It's been ten years since the sky literally came crashing down around Yael Malkah and upended her world. Now she's returned to New York to visit her ailing grandmother. With no other family, it's up to her to take care of the family business...
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Staring at the firehouse, Haustin stood on the sidewalk, unable to move, as if invisible roots had grown through the cracks in the concrete and held him in place. Apprehension and embarrassment formed a complex ball in his gut, a reminder of his heinous actions. Any buoyancy he felt waking up next to Yael faded with each throb of his swollen jaw, courtesy of Abel's ham-sized fists. It'd only been a day since he stumbled into this building, but it seemed like a year. This morning, he felt every bit his age. Exhaustion pressed on his shoulders, making him a hundred pounds heavier, and he was not looking forward to facing the crew. Thank God Yael hadn't found any six a.m. meetings nearby to take him to. He wasn't sure he wanted to deal with that as well as the shit-show he was about to walk into, and the ass-kissing required.
Sucking in a bracing breath, Haustin walked through the open bay door and kept his head down. After tossing his duffel in his locker, he ambled into the kitchen, where Abel and Alex were bent over steaming mugs of coffee and joined them at the table.
"Nice shiner," Abel quipped.
"Worse than it looks," Haustin answered. "Only hurts when I move or breathe."
"Good."
Haustin glanced between his two friends, finding no easy forgiveness there, and his shoulders slumped. "Yeah, I'm sorry about ... everything."
"Don't be. You barely scratched me."
"Are you okay?" Alex asked.
"No. Far from it, although I do believe there is a light at the end of the tunnel. It's a long tunnel, but it's there."
"That was pitiful, Haustin."
Haustin nodded at Abel's statement, unable to think of anything else to say but, "Agreed."
"Wait. What in God's name is in your hands?" Abel demanded.
Haustin lifted the clear to-go cup from the Starbucks up the block. "This is an iced chai tea, gentlemen. Yael bought it for me this morning, says it's a healthier alternative to coffee. Do you know how much shit is in that cup of yours? And we drink gallons of it a day," he repeated what Yael told him earlier, neglecting to mention how she suggested he avoid any kind of stimulant such as caffeine, just until his system regulated.
They burst out laughing, and Haustin shot them a glare. Alex recovered first.
"When did you turn into an eighty-year-old woman?"
"That's pretty fancy stuff, cupcake," Abel added.
"What can I say? It tastes great and is better for me." He didn't see the point of adding the cinnamon only made him thirstier or how the feeling healthy part was probably wishful thinking. Apparently, Haustin the Downer was not all the way gone. He concentrated on a positive note. "Yael is a good influence on me."
"You need one, for sure." Abel took a long gulp of his coffee, and Haustin had a sudden craving for the life-giving beverage. "Hell, if I were you, I'd quit the force and be a kept man. Putter around her penthouse all day, sipping your tea with a pinkie in the air."
