Jemma looked at him and heard him pleading with her, but she wasn’t about to calm down when he hadn’t told her anything yet. She took several gulps of air, and then nodded before turning on her heel and heading to the kitchen table. When she reached it, she turned on him once more. “Talk.”
Angel followed her to the kitchen, and when she stood, arms crossed over her chest in anger, he knew he needed to calm her down. This wasn’t at all going the way he’d hoped. He pulled out the chair for her, and when she sat down, he knelt before her, so he could look into her eyes when he begged for her forgiveness.
When Angel took a knee and locked his eyes onto hers, for a moment Jemma thought he was actually going to propose. But then he spoke and crushed her soul. “I was helping with the fire.”
“What? Why?” At first Jemma didn’t understand. “But why? Were animals hurt?”
“Yes, some, burned pretty bad. But that’s not why I was there. I work with Pops, and Buff and Tank and Dirty -D and Dub-Step. I’m Tarpley VFD.”
She pushed away from him in her chair like she’d been slapped. The sound of the chair scraping against the floor was like fingernails on a chalkboard.
“What are you talking about?” She couldn’t believe what he was saying. Her ears rang with alarm bells. The room spun. “You’re a…a volunteer firefighter? You know Tank and Pops. Buff and Dub-Step.”
He nodded while he watched her reaction. Her face blanched. “Listen, I didn’t know when we first met that you were dead set on not dating a firefighter. It just never came up. I’m newer on the team, and none of the guys mentioned you before we met. Then when I mentioned you, they told me. When I learned how you felt, well, I should’ve mentioned it a few weeks ago, and, well, I was working up the courage to tell you, but by then, I knew I loved you, and I didn’t want to lose you.”
“Weeks ago?” She held a hand to her heart and then scrambled out of her chair toward the stove. She turned to him as he got up from his kneeling position, his hand stretched toward her. “Lose me?” she said softly. Almost a whisper.
Angel could tell she was in shock. He tried to reach for her, to bring her back to him. To the present. He watched as her eyes cleared, and she looked at him. Really looked. Then he felt her pull away. When he saw the tears begin to drip down her cheeks, his heart broke.
“You can’t lose me! It’s the other way around, don’t you see? I can’t lose you. I can’t lose you to a fire. I just can’t go through that again, don’t you see? I lost my dad to a fire. I can’t keep losing people I love. I just can’t.” Racking sobs overtook her as she hid her face in her hands.
He pulled her into his arms and tried to hold her, but she struggled out of his embrace. She walked toward the front door and turned to him.
“We can work this out, Jemma. Please,” he begged her. Her head shook in the negative. He waited for her to speak, though the waiting killed him. “Please, let’s talk about this, Jemma. I love you. You know I do.”
She looked off into the corner of the room and would not meet his eyes. But she began to speak, and each word cut his heart to shreds. “Strike one. You lied to me about who you are. Strike two. You kept the truth from me about what you do. I don’t know what there is to talk about.”
“Please, Jemma. Don’t.” He walked toward her.
She looked him in the eye when he was a few feet away. “You can stop volunteering.” She spoke in a cold tone as if she knew what his answer would be before he said it.
“I can’t do that, Beauty. It’s important to me. You gotta understand… Let me explain why I do it.”
“Strike Three.” Jemma walked past him so quickly, he didn’t have time to react. She left him standing in the kitchen as she made her way to the living room. At the foot of the stairs going up to the second floor, she pronounced, “You have to leave. I told you, I’m not going to lose my heart to fire again. It’s taken too much from me already. My mom left because of my dad’s job, then my dad died, in a fire, and then my aunt died of cancer. Don’t expect me to love you, too, Angel. Not if you place yourself purposefully into danger. Go. And lock the door on your way out.”
She ran up the stairs, and he heard the door slam. His heart ached for her. For them. This couldn’t be over between them. He quietly walked up the steps after her. He wasn’t ready to give up yet. Not like this. He softly tapped at her door. When she didn’t answer, he told her through the oak wood, “Baby, please, this thing between us is so good. We belong together. We can work this out.”
There was no answer. His heart sank.
He realized he needed to give her time. She was in too much shock. Too angry. She needed time to think, to process what had happened. “I’ll leave. For now. But I’ll call you,” he promised.
“Don’t,” she whispered from mere inches away as she leaned her forehead on the door. She held the tears in check that threatened to drown her. “Please, don’t. Just go,” she stated, her voice firm.
She wasn’t losing her heart, she kept repeating to herself inside her mind. She leaned against the door until she heard his footsteps retreating and the sounds getting farther and farther away. When she heard the front door close, she raced across the hall to her old childhood room and peered out the window and watched as he got into his truck and drove off, a cloud of Texas dust in his wake. She crushed her fist to her mouth and fell to the floor and let the tears overtake her.
Chapter 12
Jemma managed to make it through another week of school. She packed up her bag and the papers she planned to bring home for the evening. It was Thursday, and she was thankful they had a long weekend ahead of them. They had both Friday and Monday off, which the kids were thrilled about with a fair in Tarpley. But for her, she was grateful her friend was coming and they could drink while Jemma licked her wounds. She’d also vowed to finally start the window project she’d been planning. That would help to keep her mind off Angel and her heartbreak.
Angel, she breathed his name. He’d texted her every day since she asked him to leave nearly two weeks ago. He’d called as well and left her voicemails. But she stopped listening to them because they just made her want to cry all over again. She was in love with him, still loved him, even though it felt like her heart had been ripped out of her chest. Everything about him had seemed so perfect. Perfect, except that one thing. He was a firefighter. And he’d lied to her about it. He could leave one day and never come back to her.
“He didn’t lie!” Calliope exclaimed in exasperation when they’d talked on the phone last night. “He just didn’t say anything about it for the first few weeks. By the time he realized you didn’t want to date someone in that line of business he had feelings for you. You have to understand that.” Calliope pleaded with her to see reason.
“I know. My head knows that. But I fell in love with him, and he lied to me for weeks. That is what makes it hurt so much. That he kept the truth from me, knowing how I felt.”
“Listen, sweetie, I’m trying to make you see reason here. So what? He only lied because he didn’t want to lose you. It’s not like he lied for some horrible secret. What if the first time you mentioned you were glad he wasn’t VFD, and he said, ‘Oops. I didn’t know you felt that way, but I actually volunteer for the fire department.’ Would you seriously have told him you didn’t want to see him anymore?”
Her stomach had rolled. Hell, she wanted to see him now. “I don’t know.” She loved him, but it terrified her to lose him. She’d asked him to give it up, and he told her he couldn’t. “Well, if he loves me, he could always quit.”
She heard her friend sigh on the other end of the line. “Sweetie, you ask me every time we talk to give up chasing storms. I don’t. I love the thrill and danger. Does that mean our friendship is over?”
“Of course not!” Jemma stated emphatically.
“Well? It’s kind of the same thing.”
“No. It’s different,” she pouted into the phone.
“How is it different? You
are like a sister to me. I love you, and I know you love me. We just don’t give up on each other because we disagree. Do we? Seriously. And you really shouldn’t give up on Angel. You love him, and you know he loves you.”
“But…”
“Stop with the buts. Listen Jemma, I’m not letting you sabotage yourself this way. I’ll see you tomorrow night, and I’m going to drag your ass to that fair on Saturday, and you and Angel are going to talk this out. Come hell or high water, I will make you see reason.”
“Maybe.”
“No. No maybes about it.” Jemma heard the anger in her friend’s voice. “What if he asked you to give up teaching?”
Jemma laughed at the absurdity. “But that’s hardly a dangerous job!”
“What?” Calliope questioned in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? Do you watch the news? The school shootings across this country are rampant. There is a pandemic in this country with mental health and guns. They don’t mix. But something needs to be done to protect kids and teachers in school. You, my dear, are in a dangerous job, too, even if you choose not to see it.” Before Jemma could protest, Calliope continued, “You love your job and you are passionate about it. I get that. I do. Did you ever ask Angel why he was a volunteer firefighter? Why he does it? You really can’t expect him to give it up without hearing why he wants to do it.”
That comment gave Jemma pause. Angel had tried to tell her why he did it, and she had cut him off. Calliope was right. She should have at least heard him out. Her heart clenched tightly in her chest. “Fine. I will talk to him at the fair on Saturday. I’ll listen. I still can’t make any promises, though.”
“Good. That’s all I ask. Keep an open mind about this. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Jemma thought about Angel now as she made her way to her vehicle and nearly dropped the bundle of papers she was carrying.
“Here, let me get that for you.” Frank appeared out of nowhere.
“Thanks, Frank. I wasn’t paying attention, I guess,” she said distractedly as she fumbled around in her purse to grab her car keys.
“I noticed.” He smiled at her sympathetically. “Actually, you haven’t seemed your usual chipper self these past couple of weeks.”
When Jemma looked up after finding her keys, she found his eyes full of friendly interest.
Frank had been trying hard these past few weeks to mend their friendship, and she appreciated it. “I broke up with Angel. He lied to me about something.” She blurted the words before thinking.
“I’m sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do?”
His concern touched her.
“No, thank you.” She turned and unlocked her car door. He waited for her to sit down inside before handing her the stack of papers.
“Want to get together this weekend? Take your mind off it? As friends, nothing more.” He held up both hands in gesture of friendship.
“Sounds nice, but I actually have my friend Callie coming. She and I are going to the fair on Saturday. She’s helping me put in some new windows on the house. Angel was supposed to…”
She let the words trail off.
“Okay, well, maybe next week, then,” Frank offered.
Jemma nodded absently as she started the ignition on her car. “Thanks.”
He closed her door, and waved her off.
When he stepped back, Jemma pulled out of her parking spot and headed home, anxious to see her friend, but worried about what the fair might bring. She’d be seeing Angel for the first time in two weeks.
She’d promised to talk to him, but she didn’t know if she could do it. Not without her heart shattering into a million pieces again.
Chapter 13
“Shall I?” Calliope suggested, opening a third bottle of wine.
“Not if we want to be able to function in the morning. Remember, you promised to help me put in one of the new windows.”
“Party pooper!” Calliope pouted, but she knew she’d reached her limit.
“These windows shouldn’t be too hard to set in the frames. I’ve watched all the video links you sent. With you helping, I’m sure it will go a lot easier. Maybe I can tackle a few on my own on Saturday and Sunday.”
“No way! You are not getting out of Saturday. And windows are really a two-person job. You promised to go to the fair. You promised you would talk to Angel.” Calliope’s words were slightly slurred. They both were a little tipsy.
“I know, but maybe that is not the best place and time.”
Calliope shrugged her shoulders. “You can always call him or text him now.” She reached for her friend’s phone and began to look for Angel’s number in her contacts. “That way you won’t be able to talk yourself out of it later.”
Jemma snatched the phone out of Calliope’s hand. “No way. I’m too tipsy, and I still haven’t figured out what to say. Nothing good has ever come out of drunk texts. Remember college?”
Calliope laughed, remembering an evening where they decided to drunk text all their college friends for fun. “It’s not a matter of what to say. It’s a matter of hearing him out. He deserves that at the very least before you make any final decisions. The least you can do is text him that you are willing to talk to him at, or after the fair. I hear the poor guy has been biting everyone’s heads off when he isn’t mooning around.”
“How did you hear that?”
“I ran into Dirty -D and a guy named Tank at the gas station.”
“Oh.”
“That’s right. Oh.”
Jemma felt worse. That didn’t sound like the Angel she knew and loved. “Maybe I should. But I just don’t know what to say.”
“Here, let me.” Calliope reached for Jemma’s phone, and when her friend handed it over, she took it for a good sign. All night Jemma had been talking about how much she missed Angel. How she hoped they could work it out. And Angel was good for her, too. Jemma was happier these past two months than she had been in years. Passion for your job could only take you so far. She had come to realize that herself after spending years chasing storms.
“Just don’t send anything until I give the okay.” Jemma sat beside her friend so she could read what she was typing.
Calliope just nodded as she typed for a few seconds into the phone. “Here.” She handed the phone back to Jemma.
Jemma’s eyes scanned the contents of the text, and since she couldn’t think of anything better, she hit the SEND button. She really did need to talk to Angel. She missed him so much.
“What do you think it means?” Angel asked Buff.
“You seriously asking me my opinion?” When Angel just shrugged his shoulders, Buff rolled his eyes. “God knows! I sure as shit can’t read a woman. Ask Tank.”
Tank gave him a I’m clueless look, which shut Angel down before he managed to get the words out.
He turned to Dub-Step. “I ain’t a girl. Better ask a woman.”
Angel glumly slipped his phone into his pocket and left the station.
Just as he was leaving, he saw Penelope coming in. “Hey, Penelope.”
“Hi, Short Shit. You leaving?”
“Yeah, just finished a training exercise.”
“You look down in the mouth. What’s up?”
Angel liked Penelope. She’d always been a good listener and easy-going. Plus, she was a girl. Maybe he could ask her.
Everyone loved her in town and valued her opinion. She was a real American hero. A soldier. A firefighter. A well-respected member of the community. He’d gotten to know her better after last year’s fire. The one on the preservation they were all receiving commendations for at the fair tomorrow.
She had taken in one of the injured animals from the fire, and he’d been to her place several times to administer treatment to her beloved Smokey.
“I’m currently perplexed as shit. Do you know Jemma Haner?”
Penelope smiled. She knew Angel was having some trouble with her. The guys at the fire station liked to talk more than any women she knew. “Sur
e do. We went to high school together. My advice? Stay away. For now. She has always said she wouldn’t date a firefighter. Her father was killed in the line of duty. That’s something that is hard to get past. But, she knows you now. Give her some time.”
Angel thought about that. “We dated for a couple of months, then she found out I volunteered here in Tarpley and she got pissed as hell. I don’t know if she’ll forgive me.”
“I heard about that. Oh, brother. Looks like you got it bad. You’re sure in a pickle. I don’t know what to tell you. But, if she cares half as much as you obviously care for her, she may forgive you in time.”
“She sent me this text last night, though.” He fished his phone out of his pocket, pulled up Jemma’s message, and showed it to her.
Penelope scanned the words in the text. It read: I’ve been thinking about us a lot. I’m willing to talk but can’t make promises. I’ll be at the fair tomorrow. She handed Angel back his phone. “Well, as a woman, I’d say that sounds promising. I wouldn’t give up on her just yet, Angel. I know she can be stubborn, but she has a big heart. Listen to her.”
“But if she wants me to give up being a volunteer, give up on us for that, I don’t know.”
Penelope put her hand on Angel’s arm and looked up into his eyes. “I know you enough by now, Angel, that you don’t let women in a lot. So, if this girl got to you, it means you really care. You love her. I can see it in your eyes. Relationships are about sacrifice, my man. I’m not saying you have to give up being a volunteer. But you do have to listen. Really listen to her. We like that. When men hear us, respect our feelings and validate them, not shove them aside. I know how important firefighting is to you. But listen to her first. Then, tell her why you want to do it and work from there. She’ll listen. The important thing to remember is you’re talking, communicating again, and if Jemma loves you, she can sacrifice, too, and maybe you can meet in the middle somehow.”
“Thanks, Penelope. I appreciate the pep talk. I guess that’s all I can do.”
Fighting For Jemma Page 11