Playing With Fire

I glanced over at him, not sure how to respond to that.

He grinned in amusement at my blank expression. “I know that sounds heartless, especially coming from his twin brother who just found out he died. But that’s not the way I remember him.” He shook his head. “Ted may have been a hero to you, and probably many others, I’m sure…but, to me, he was a wife-stealing, no-good sonofabitch.”

“You mean, Janet?”

He lowered his head as the pain smeared across his face. “We were married only a few short months when I caught them together. She was the only woman I ever loved. And I guess Ted must’ve loved her, too, since he was willing to forgo our family ties to be with her.” He raised his head and his eyes narrowed. “But I didn’t know that dumbass was going to end up cheating on her with that…monster of a woman.”

His reference to Mandy made me cringe, but I remembered things Cowboy told me and wanted to be completely honest with him. “I don’t know for sure, but from what I heard, the affair started after Janet left. Technically, Janet and Chief…er, I mean Ted, were still married, I guess, but when she came back into the picture and they got back together, he must’ve told Mandy it was over between them.”

“And that’s what drove her insane? Crazy enough to kill two people?”

I shrugged. “It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

Ned sighed and pulled an envelope from his pocket. “After I got the message from your boyfriend, I had to know what this letter said.”

He held it out and motioned for me to take it. I did, though I wasn’t sure why he was showing it to me. I slipped the paper out and unfolded it to read the chief’s final words to his brother.

I may have been a hero once, but I haven’t done a heroic thing since. I’m sorry about Janet. I didn’t deserve her.

“My brother is…was a damn fool. When it came to women, he was always playing with fire.”



After Ned left, I laid my head back and allowed my eyes to drift closed. The others hadn’t returned from the cafeteria and the nurse said it would be a while before they moved Cowboy to a room. But as sleep claimed my tired body, I became restless and hyper-aware that my tangible surroundings had changed, morphing into something that resembled a young girl’s bedroom.

It was dark.

A door creaked open, and then closed again, followed by the light sounds of slow breathing and the soft padding of bare feet across the wooden floor. I cringed, knowing what was coming next. It was always the same thing.

When the scratching started, I tried to hide under the covers only to have them ripped away from me. Whimpering, I drew myself into a ball and wrapped my arms around my legs, burying my face into my knees.

I didn’t want to look up, afraid of what I’d see: the thing that scared me the most. But I did anyway because, deep down, I knew the scratching wouldn’t stop until I saw the explosion with my own eyes. It happened so often, almost nightly…and still, I was afraid.

This time, the scratching sounded only twice when the light burst in front of me, temporarily blinding me to anything else. The overwhelming sulfuric odor filled my nostrils and made me gag. But this time, something was different. As I jerked away from the fire, my consciousness returned to my body and my limbs stiffened from the vision.

It felt like a dream. The same one I’d had for years. But this time everything had been much clearer. Maybe it was because my subconscious was paying attention. As if a fog had been lifted.

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