Page 16 of Hoodoo House
Mickey took off his apron, went out to the parking lot and hopped into his broken-down army-surplus Jeep. He knew where he’d find Declan.
As he pulled up at The Greek, he spotted his friend sitting on the steps to the bathhouse with Mateo, the night manager. Mateo had probably dialled the phone for Declan.
Mateo waved and said, “Mickey, thanks for coming. I found him sitting out here. He’s been on the steps all night. He wouldn’t come in. He keeps saying that something’s wrong and he feels like he should never go in again. He said he needed your help. He also kept mumbling something about Michael?”
“Thanks, Mateo,” Mickey said.
“Do you want a hand?”
“No. I think I have it. Come on, my friend,” he said to Declan. “Let’s get you off the street.”
Mickey wasn’t large, but he was strong. He manhandled Declan into the passenger seat of his Jeep. He pulled the seatbelt around him and fastened him in. Declan drunkenly swung his head around to look at him. His eyes were red.
“Man…” Mickey said, “you’ve got to quit doing this to yourself.”
Mickey drove to Declan’s apartment and got him upstairs to bed. Before he left, he put a note on his bedside table.
Talk to Michael. Then get off your ass and talk to Charlie. He deserves to know.
Chapter Five
On Monday morning, before Charlie headed up to the office, he poked his nose into Gwen’s café.
“You’re getting in a little late,” she said.
“I was out dancing with Carrie. I have no idea when we actually got in.”
“Sunday dancing. Good Lord, what will the youth of today get up to next?”
Gwen rose from her chair and wandered behind the counter. She picked out an almond-encrustedpain au chocolat.
“Here. Try one of these. They’re something new.”
Charlie bit into it and his eyes lit up. “Oh my God. I’ll never eat a plain one again.”
Gwen smiled. “Now, what can I get you?”
“An extra-large latte with a triple shot of espresso.”
“Anything for Declan?”
Charlie paused.Business as usual.“A large double-shot Americano, please.”
He grabbed the coffees and headed up to the office. As Charlie got to his desk, he heard the familiar crash of weights hitting the floor of the apartment above. It was leg day for Declan and Charlie knew that meant he’d be doing squats with his barbells.
Crash. Another set done and he’d dropped the weights to the floor.
It’s a wonder that any of the ceiling lights in the office still work.
Charlie put on his best smile and headed up the stairs. Declan came into view. He wore nothing but tight workout shorts and training shoes. Charlie remembered once telling Declan that the company had enough money that they could afford a new pair of trainers for him. Declan had said that he had the trainers worked in the way he liked.
Declan’s muscles strained as he squatted and hoisted weights that far exceeded his own mass. He bent forward at the waist, keeping his back flat and his head looking straight ahead, watching himself in the mirror. Then he dropped the weights onto the padded floor mat. He paused for a second, looking at the reflection of his body.
Charlie cleared his throat. Declan turned and saw Charlie at the top of the stairs. They stared at each other for an awkward moment.
“I…thought you might want this,” Charlie said, offering up the coffee.
“Thanks,” Declan replied. The tension was palpable.
