Read Online In the Nick of Time by Tiana Laveen - Free Book Online

physical strain and pain, he grabbed his remote control with stretched fingers, turning on the news. There it was, right there, the breaking story. His chest caved and throbbed with mounting unease as sweat rivulets ran zigzag relays down his face. Through tense eyes he desperately tried to focus…see the screen…clearly comprehend and take in the words from the reporter.
    Oh God…Oh no…
    Even through tainted vision, his senses weren’t playing tricks on him, but he prayed to whoever would listen that they were…
    “Who is it? Who the hell is that?” he questioned as slightly fuzzy footage of a man dressed in blue moved about atop a roof.
    …Don’t you say his name, don’t you dare say who I think it is, Tomas!
    Bricks
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    From the sky…
    “Well you know that they haven’t released that information to the press yet but the guy’s name is Eric Leech—and that’s his son.”
    Eric Leech… Oh God…it IS him!
    He knew Eric. The guy was a stoner, a poet, and a fucking mental case. One of the few white guys flipping about in Brownsville, Brooklyn and didn’t seem to really give a shit about that fact. Regardless, he’d appeared harmless enough. Nick attempted to get to his heavy feet, but could barely stand as he saw double, then triple and sparks of blinding white. Finally up, he fell against the wall, taking items from his nightstand with him and causing a mighty crash of all things pretty, fragile and delicate.
    Barely holding onto his phone, Officer Tomas kept talking, rattling off the play by play, and the news reporter stated that some walking disaster was coming down there to try and tell Eric how sweet and beautiful life was. Nothing was beautiful about surviving another day in Hell, and nothing could make a guy like Eric see the glittering promise of hope, especially while barreling down on psychosis. The headlights of Doomsday shone so bright, they undermined all else. No one took Eric seriously; he was like a mere broken window inside an abandoned building but, people were definitely taking a peek, now …
    Yes… he was the broken window.
    …I know that feeling.
    No one cared how it happened, how long it had been there, or where all the glass spread once the thing was smashed and destroyed. All that flying debris comprised that man’s entire life; his guts, the shit that mattered most, but no one gave a damn about bygone blood, tormented tears, or dilapidated dreams. He was a laughing stock and those not taken seriously would at times force the issue, bring it to the forefront in a brand new, extreme way.
    Y ou will look at me, you will see me, you will remember me, goddamn it!
    And even after all of that, there would always be that group of people to ask, ‘What the hell went wrong?’
    “I know him! I gotta get down there…I gotta talk to him!” Nick blurted, pulling himself out of the odd thoughts streamed with cantankerous things called memories. No matter his effort, his heavy eyelids wouldn’t cooperate, denying him the gift of clear sight. He struggled to rub his raw, itching nose, missing several times. Worse yet, his right nostril streamed blood, crucified by his actions. He patted his cupid’s bow and looked at his fingertips—wet, crimson, and cocaine laced.
    “Nah, don’t do that. He’s high on some stuff and others are involved now. It’s out of our hands,” Tomas explained. “They’re going to shoot Eric dead as soon as they get the chance though. Can’t have him doing that and then…what was that?! What the fuck was that?! Shit!” Tomas yelled. His police radio buzzed in the background. “Goddamn it!” The man screamed so loudly, his eardrums rang like church bells.
    Nick turned back toward the television, crawling to it like a baby in pain, begging for its mother’s love. He gripped his cell phone in one hand, clutching it like a lifeline as he continued to hobble about. When he got in front of the damn thing, the news’ live coverage feed was