Page 53 of Heart Strain

20

Jameson

“It’s even worse playing with both of you, I swear, I’m never going to win,” I grumble as Drix wins this hand and caws dramatically like a crow after catching its prey. He thinks he’s funny and he sounds ridiculous.

Holds rubs my shoulder blade, causing tingles up my spine. “It’ll be okay. We can’t all be good at playing cards.” His tone is teasing and Drix snickers.

“I’m out. That’s it. You’re both mean.” I sit back in my chair, pouting.

“That sounds about right. Being a quitter must run on your dad’s side of the family,” my uncle’s deep, condescending voice says as he enters Drix’s hospital room. Trailing right behind him are my brother and cousin.

My whole body startles in my chair, and I feel Holds tense up next to me. “The three stooges strike again,” he mutters low enough for only me to hear.

Drix remains silent as they sidle up to the side of his bed across from us. He tracks their movements, but says nothing. As my uncle pushes in right next to the bed, Cappi stands back to his right with his normal bluster, feet planted shoulder width apart as he leans his upper body back to glare down his nose at me over the top of Drix. Jovany takes my uncle’s left, his body tense and unusually awkward as he fidgets from foot to foot like he’s not sure how to stand, or maybe he’s uncomfortable. Weird. Before I can interpret what’s going on with him, my uncle’s voice draws my attention. “Officer Weston, it’s good to see you awake.”

“Thank you, Chief Caputo,” Drix responds respectfully, even as he adjusts the sheet draped over his body to pull it up higher around his chest.

After his initial insult to me, my uncle pretends I’m not present, and even Cappi’s focus turns to Drix lying in the bed. They ask him several questions about his injuries and inquire to his prognosis; however, Drix’s eyes shift to Holds after the first question, so Holds answers each one. The whole thing is oddly stiff—formal—and overly polite on Holden and Drix’s end as my family postures beside the bed. Well, except Jovany, he stands restlessly in the background, not saying a word.

Holds explains how Drix will be transferred to the rehab center soon and gives them the minimal details about the process. “I’m sure you’re anxious to get back to the job, Officer Weston—Hendrix.” My uncle’s lips pull into his fake smile as he pats Drix’s shoulder. “Your job will be waiting for you when this unfortunate situation is resolved. And of course, we’ll assign you a new partner.”

Cappi flashes a shit-eating grin in my direction until he hears Drix’s response. “Why would I want a new partner?” His tone implies he’s confused, but he knows the depth of my family’s hatred for me, and I hear the underlying contempt.

Chief Caputo’s eyes narrow as he tugs on the bottom of his jacket. “Well, you’ll be out for a considerable amount of time. You still need counseling yourself, and of course, by the time you come back, he’ll”—he jerks his shoulder in my direction without sparing me a glance—“already be with a new partner.”

“If he’s even still around,” Cappi mumbles as if we won’t all hear him. Out of my peripheral, I catch Jovany’s face blanch before he clears his expression, returning it once again to neutral.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Drix asks Cappi sharply.

“Don’t you worry about a thing,” Chief Caputo says, patting Drix’s shoulder again, then resting his hand there.

Drix’s head turns to glare down at the offending hand. “I’m not concerned at all.” He waits for my uncle to remove his hand before continuing, “I just see no reason why Aiden can’t partner with Jameson for now until I return to active duty. That’s what usually happens, correct? Aiden’s like the substitute guy?” My uncle’s eyes widen before narrowing at the figure in the bed and Cappi hunches his shoulders forward. If Drix wasn’t injured and in bed, I imagine Cappi would be growling, starting a fight.

At the best of times, Hendrix has walked a thin line between treating the chief with contempt and respect. He’s always said he has a hard time separating my uncle, who treats convicted murderers better than me, and the man who’s our boss. Apparently, a hurt and out-of-commission Hendrix has zero fucks to give. There are things that happen in the department that aren’t right, but they’re never mentioned, at least not in front of the chief and his minions. How Aiden is treated is one of them. It isn’t only the fact he’s moved from partner to partner, but he’s given janitorial tasks and other odd jobs instead of normal patrols. I may get the razor’s edge of the chief’s tongue, but Aiden gets the grunt work, rarely treated as an officer who’s done the work and earned his place.

Although not understanding all the dynamics now at play, Holds jumps in gracefully. “When will that counseling be happening, Chief Caputo? Of course, they’ve had someone here at the hospital come in and talk to my brother, but I’m assuming the department has someone he specifically needs to speak with.”

Chief Caputo focuses on Holds for the rest of their, thankfully short, visit. Holds is respectful, but firm, leaving no room for the illusion that any of us want them to stay. “It was good to see you, Officer Weston. If you need anything, please call the station. Holden, a pleasure to see you.” He turns and exits, ignoring me as he leaves. Cappi grunts at Drix while tipping his chin before fixing hate-filled eyes on me and following behind his father.

Jovany waits for them to clear the door before stepping up to the bed. “If you need anything…” he trails off, then mutters to the ground, “If any of you need anything, text my cell.” Without another word, he spins and is gone.

Holds is the first to break the silence left in their wake. “What the hell was that? I don’t know if I’ve been that uncomfortable in my adult life. Are the three stooges seriously always like that?”

Drix sputters out a laugh, choking on the sip of water he’s taking. “What did you call them?” he asks once he catches his breath.

“He’s taken to calling them the three stooges,” I say, grinning at Holds.

“That’s incredibly… astute. I thought you said they’ve only been here twice before now.”

“They have,” says Holds. “It only took one visit to see how terribly they treat Fox—uh, Jameson.”

Something inside me melts a little knowing it wasn’t only that they’re complete asses, but that it was actually on my behalf that Holden coined them with their nickname. “Drix, is it me, or was my brother acting weird?” I ask.

“Dude, so weird. He’s usually worse than your dickhead cousin. What was all that, text my cell, stuff?” I shrug my shoulders at him, as bewildered as he is. “I’m glad the chief got my message, though. Calling me Hendrix. Who the hell does he think he is? I got shot in the line of duty. I’m not going to sue the department or anything, so don’t act like we’re friends now. Ugh. He’s such a schmuck. Nothing’s changed. You’re still my best friend, we all know I know your family secrets, and I still want you as my partner. Move on out of here with all that other bullshit.”

The last of the fear I’d secretly been harboring that Drix doesn’t totally forgive me for letting him get shot disappears. Well, he says I didn’t let him get shot anyway; that I didn’t hold the gun or pull the trigger on the bullets that put him in this place. My heart warms as I sit with the Weston brothers as they go back and forth taking pot shots at the odd, unacceptable behavior of my estranged family. Hendrix has had my back for years, but listening to them, I become aware that Holden really does, too. I have people. I may not have my birth family, but I do have these brothers, good men who have chosen me, and I choose them.

“Hey, Jameson,” Drix says. Once he knows I’m no longer lost in my own thoughts, he says, “Don’t be a pussy. Man up.”

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