by K. C. Crowne
I put in a quick call to my assistant, Julia.
“You sure?” she asked me. I pictured her cringing as she spoke.
“Yes, you heard me,” I said. “Please pick everything up and bring it over to Allison's. I'll text you the address now. And please, Julia, don't talk to my father about this? In fact, don't mention this to anybody.”
“Of course,” she said.
I knew I could trust Julia with everything in my life. I paid her not just to run my errands, but to keep my secrets as well. It was more than just that though. I'd hired her because she was like an old friend to me, someone I instinctively knew I could trust to keep my confidences. I cared for Julia and wanted to believe that if the money ever ran out and I was flat broke, Julia and I would remain friends, even if I didn't employ her as my PA.
After hanging up the phone, I finished packing my bags. Nothing too obvious – I didn't want to start the rumor mill grinding with stories about me moving out or the whole trouble in paradise storyline that was a go-to for any celebrity couple. No, if I did move out of the penthouse, I'd have to be subtler about it. Discretion was the key. But for now, I was only going to be gone for a few days, and I wanted to bring as little as possible with me.
After all, I was going under the radar here. No designer clothes. No expensive makeup routine. I would just be Maddy, a normal girl, for a few days. And normal girls didn't need all the makeup and clothes I usually did. It was a little bit exciting, to be honest – the thought of being a normal girl with a normal life. I was looking forward to it.
My phone buzzed just as I was finishing up with my bag. It was coming from Derek – a text message because he couldn't even be bothered to call. Not that I would have answered. Hell, maybe he knew that already and decided a text was the safer route.
Just one message from my now ex-fiancé.
At the airport now, flying home. We'll talk when I get there.
“No, Derek, we won't,” I said to myself. “I'm done talking to you.”
Jax
Slamming my locker shut, I cursed to myself. This fucking job was going to kill me one day. Not literally – though it might eventually do that too. It wasn't the physical danger I feared, though there was an element to that, of course. No, it was the fact that this job was mentally draining me more and more every day.
Finn was beside me, and offered a friendly, supportive pat on the back. “Think of all the ones we save. Focus on them instead, man.”
“I dunno if I can do it anymore,” I said.
Every night when I closed my eyes and tried to sleep, all I saw were the ones we'd lost. Charred and broken bodies. People who had depended on us to save their lives, to get to them in time. Gone. Their faces spooled through my head like a highlight reel from hell playing on an endless loop.
No, it wasn't always our fault. It very rarely was because of something we did or didn't do – but it sure as hell felt like it. I personally felt like a failure every time we lost someone. It never failed to hit me hard and simply add to the reel of faces that spun through my head most every single night.
“I'm not sure how it doesn't break you,” I muttered, staring down at the ground.
“Who says it doesn't?” Finn said.
We shared a knowing look that only firefighters could understand – that shared pain of loss. Our job was rewarding as fuck most days, but the lows were really damn low. Too low at times. There were times I felt like I was at rock bottom and didn't know how I was going to pull myself out of it again.
I always did though. I managed to get back on my feet and get back into the fight. It was just getting harder for me to do it. Bit by bit, day by day, it was getting tougher to get back up off the mat.
“A couple of the guys are going out for a beer,” Finn said. “Join us. Unwind a bit.”
“Not tonight,” I said.
“Come on, you need to let yourself relax, man,” he said.
He was right, but it felt wrong to go out and grab a beer after someone died. It almost felt like a celebration and that didn't quite sit right with me. I only wanted to celebrate the wins, not the losses. No, it felt better to go home and mope, to drinking alone inside my apartment and wallow in my own misery as I tried to forget about the day. If I watched enough television, sometimes I could forget – albeit, briefly – until I went to bed that night. That hour or two was bliss though.
“Maybe another time,” I said.
“Jaxon,” a thunderous voice called out, “My office. Now.”
Finn raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “Sounds like the chief wants to speak with you,” he said, his voice grim. “Sure you won't need a drink afterward?”
I shook my head. “Nah, man. I'm good. Have fun.”
Finn gave me a sympathetic grin and slapped me on the shoulder before heading out, leaving me alone with the boss. Our chief was a big, burly old man. He'd been in charge for as long as anyone could remember. Had to be in his late fifties or early sixties, but he kept going strong. In fact, it was hard to tell how old he really was based on the shape he was in. He kept himself lean and mean and could run circles around some of the rookies we’d had come through. Tim Scott was his name, and everyone in our house lived in fear of him. No one really wanted to be called into his office – especially not after the shit day we'd just had. The last thing I wanted was to get chewed out. I had no choice though, so I stiffened my spine and walked into his office, head held high.
“Yeah, Chief?” I said.
He'd sat back behind his desk and didn't stand up when I entered. Instead, he just mumbled, “Sit. Close the door behind you too.”
I did as I was told. Sitting there, in front of the chief, waiting for him to talk, just added to the mountain of stress that'd been building up on my shoulders throughout the day. My head began throbbing and exhaustion hit me hard. I wondered if I was in trouble – and if so, for what? Everything at the house had gone according to protocol. No reason for anyone to get reamed out. A life was lost, but they were dead before we'd even gotten the call more than likely – not that it would keep me from punishing myself for not saving them or anything.
“Jaxon, I know today was tough,” Tim said, running a hand over his scruffy face. I'd never noticed how tired he looked until that moment. “I just wanted to see how you're holding up?”
I stared at my hands. Dirt thick under my nails, calluses and scars on my palms. I stared at them instead of my chief, because I knew I was the only one he'd called in after the fire. I was the only one he thought had a problem or needed his hand held. I wasn't sure what to think of that.
“I'm doing okay,” I said. “All things considered, sir.”
“We lose people sometimes, Jaxon. It happens in this line of work. It's just a fact we need to make peace with. You can't save them all, son.”
“I know,” I snarled. “I've seen it happen more times than I can count.”
“Yes, and each time, you seem to struggle with it more and more.”
I lifted my head and gazed across the desk at the older man. He'd been there a long ass time, done his time as a firefighter, just like me. He'd seen his share of death on the job – probably more than any of the guys I worked with combined. Yet, somehow, he was able to keep going strong. The man was unflappable and even death didn't seem to faze him.
I wasn't sure how it didn't eat him up sometimes, but I didn't dare ask. That wasn't the type of question you'd ask Tim. We didn't talk about our feelings. We were men. But suddenly I couldn’t keep it in any longer.
“Don't you think we should struggle with it? A woman died today. She was someone's mother, someone's grandmother. And now there's a family out there grieving, and we're supposed to shake it off and go on like it's just another day?” I snapped. “Forgive me for needing to take a minute to process it, but I think it's a good thing to be bothered after losing someone on the job. It means I'm still a fucking human being.”
Tim stared at me intently, his gray eyes softening just a touc
h. Once again, he ran his hand over the stubble on his face, which was a nervous habit of his when he didn't know what to say. I knew that emotions made him a bit uncomfortable.
“Jax, you know I love ya like you're my kid. I love all you guys like that,” he said. “You're not wrong, but you're taking this way too hard. You're letting things you can't control get too deep under your skin, son. I think you need to take some time off.”
“Bullshit,” I said, gripping the corners of the chair. “I'm fine.”
“You have two weeks of vacation time built up – a few sick days too,” he noted. “You never take a day off, and I think it's time.”
Clenching my jaw, I opened my mouth to speak, to start to argue with him, but Tim shut me down before I could even get started. He leaned forward, his eyes boring into mine in that intense and intimidating way he had.
“This isn't a request, Jax,” he said, his voice stern. “I'm putting you on paid leave until I deem it appropriate for you to return to work.”
“Chief, I'm fine –”
“The fact that you think you're fine is part of the problem, Jax,” he said.
He pushed a card over toward me, and I picked it up. It was the number for a therapist. I put it back down on the table quickly.
“I'm not seeing a shrink.”
“You need to talk to someone, Jaxon. I know your history, I know why today was extra hard on you, and you can't keep pushing those feelings down,” he said. “Listen, I know we don't like to get all touchy-feely around here, but I've seen Carla a few times myself. She's great, and she works with firefighters, police, EMTs – first responders who've seen some shit. She knows what she's doing.”
I stared at the card like it was a coiled snake, ready to strike. I didn't dare pick it up.
“My past has nothing to do with this,” I said, thought without much conviction.
Tim shook his head. “If you're not willing to work through this, I'm afraid you may need to find another career. I'd hate to lose you – you're one of the best men we've got here – but I can't let you keep working if your head’s not in it. If you don't get yourself straight, one of these days you're either going to kill yourself or somebody else. Seeing Carla or someone like her is a condition of getting back to work. Period.”
Being a firefighter was all I'd ever wanted. It was my dream. Ever since I'd lost my mom, I knew what I wanted to do with my life. To threaten to fire me over not seeing a therapist was low. My blood boiled and it took everything in me not to fight back. I struggled with it but managed to bite back the words that threatened to come pouring out. In the end though, I knew it wouldn't do any good and would only make things worse. And deep down, I knew the chief was probably right. He was just looking out for his whole crew.
“Alright,” I said, picking up the card and slipping it into my pocket. “I'll call Carla. Can I stay on?”
Tim stared at me in earnest for a second before responding, “I think you need to at least take a week off. Two weeks would be even better, but we can talk again in a week and see where you're at. And only after you meet with Carla. Got it?”
I let out a deep sigh. There was nothing I could say to convince him otherwise. Nothing I could do to prove to him that I was fine, that my head was on straight and I'd just had a tough day. My jaw clenched tight and I gripped the arms of the chair, the anger and a cocktail of other emotions rushing through me.
“Fine,” I said.
I left it at that. Anything more, and there probably would have been some trouble. I knew Tim well enough to know that when he'd made up his mind about something, it was done. Case closed. I wanted to keep my job, so I did as I was told. I left his office and grabbed my things from my locker, slamming it shut even harder than the first time.
A week off. Maybe two unless I didn't suck it up. Some people would relish a surprise vacation, but not me. I had no fucking clue what I would be doing with myself or my time – aside from meeting with some goddamn shrink. I had no one other than my crew and had no idea what I'd do with the time other than sit at home and stare at the walls. Fuck this, I thought.
I pulled out my phone and texted Finn.
“Where you at? Guess I'm going to be joining you guys after all.”
Finn let out a low whistle when I told him the news. “Hey, at least you get some paid time off,” he said.
“I don't want time off,” I mumbled.
I rolled my eyes and stared down at my beer. We both knew that men like us weren't the type to just sit at home watching TV. Guys like us had to be in the thick of the action. We had to be doing something. Anything. What in the fuck was I supposed to do – start gardening? Pick up a book? Nah, I lived to work. I was the job. There was literally nothing else that got me up in the mornings.
Justin was sitting across from me, and he smirked, but wisely didn't say a word. Justin and I weren't all that close. He was probably my least favorite person in the house. I found him to be arrogant, a bit smug, and slightly obnoxious. He was the clown, the prankster of the team, and I didn't really have patience for the likes of him right now – or ever, if I was being honest.
Justin was your typical pretty boy – blonde hair, blue eyed ex-MVP for his high school football team. If you were a little different or not in his clique, he was the jock who made your life a living hell in high school. Not because he was a bully. On the contrary, he tried too hard to be a regular guy, always cracking wise. To Justin, life was one long joke.
Finn, on the other hand, was more like me. Well, not exactly. Maybe a mix between Justin and me. He could crack jokes, but he was also more down-to-earth and could be serious when the situation called for it.
Like me, he had darker hair – though his was closer to black while mine was more of a dark brown. We both had dark blue eyes. He was a little older than me, only a couple of years, but he often liked to step up and be a mentor to others, including me. He was a good guy. One of the best I'd ever known. It was why he’d become my best friend.
I was closer to him than anyone else on the team.
A hand clapped me hard on the back, nearly knocking the bottle of beer from my hands.
“Hey Jax,” Caleb said, taking the seat next to Finn.
His brother, Phillip, came up behind him. They were twins, nearly identical. I could only tell them apart because Caleb had shorter hair and tended to smile more. Phillip took the seat on the other side of me without greeting anyone. He was quieter, more laid back, while Caleb was the life of the party. It was no surprise he and Justin got along perfectly, and before the long, the two men were laughing together about some private joke between them.
I finished my beer, suddenly regretting the decision to join the guys at the bar. I just wasn't really feeling it. I thought it would give me something to do, allow me to get out of the house a bit. Since I'd be having a lot of free time over the next week, I’d figured it would do me some good. As I sat there with everybody though, I was starting to have my doubts.
“Wow,” Caleb said, leaning back in his seat, staring off toward the doorway to the bar. “Look who just walked in.”
The other guys quickly turned to look and I was the last, not overly interested. Being New York City and all, it could be a celebrity sighting. I doubted it at a dive bar like Pete’s but hell, you never knew. It was hip these days to slum it with the likes of us. Dive bars and shitty little drinking spots had suddenly become all the rage and you never knew who you might run into.
But the woman who'd stepped inside wasn't a celebrity, as far as I could tell. She just looked like one. With raven hair and big blue eyes, she was easily one of the most beautiful women I'd ever seen. The dark hair was a stark contrast to her pale features, and I could tell it wasn't her natural color – still, it looked stunning on her.
Her hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders, leading to a nice view of her ample cleavage. Her rich, red dress fit her very well, showing off curves for days. With matching heels, she looked way too classy to be in
a place like Pete’s.
And she was alone too.
“I'm gonna talk to her,” Caleb said, standing up quickly from his seat at the table.
“She's out of your league, brother,” Phillip teased.
“Oh yeah? Watch me knock this one out of the ballpark, brother,” he said, winking at all of us as he swaggered over toward the beautiful woman.
Phillip turned around to watch, a grin on his face. He seemed to think there was no way a woman like that would be into the likes of Caleb, but I didn't see why not. Caleb was a handsome guy, the type of guy most women would be proud to take home to mama.
“He has absolutely no clue how to talk to women like that,” Phillip said, shaking his head.
“What do you mean?”
“A woman like that – of her obvious station and caliber – doesn't want to be hit on. She doesn't need someone to buy her a drink, she obviously has money,” Phillip said softly.
“Then why in the hell would she come to a place like this?”
Phillip shrugged. “She's probably bored. She's just dipping her toes into the water, seeing how the rest of the world lives,” he said. “But she doesn't want to get in and immerse herself. Not fully and not with the likes of any of us. Caleb is the type of guy who comes on way too fucking strong for his own good and he's about to down in a big, fiery heap. You watch.”
Suddenly, I was curious too. I had to admit I sort of wanted Caleb to fail, but not because I wanted Phillip to be right. No, a knot formed in my chest as I looked over at the woman. Her eyes were crystal blue and filled with such depth that I found it compelling. Almost intoxicating. There was a sadness to her though, something I couldn't put my finger on. She seemed lost and alone – those were feelings I knew all too well. I wanted him to fail because I wanted her for myself.
Caleb approached her, and the woman didn't even crack a smile. She looked past him, her gaze falling on our table of men. I watched as she took us all in, one-by-one, and when her eyes fell on me, I felt my heart start to race all on its own accord.