by Teagan Kade
I tuck myself tighter against the tree, my shoulder and knees aching.
I stand and steal a glance at the road.
The approaching vehicle is a black Ram, has to be Payton.
Relief fills me. It’s short-lived, a bullet thudding into the tree.
“You can’t hide, you bitch. You hear me?”
Does Payton even know I’m down here? Can he see the truck’s gone off the road given the way we dropped into the ditch?
I can’t take the chance he’ll drive past.
I keep watching, can hear Ryan staggering towards me, his leg dragging along the ground.
When Payton’s truck is close enough, I run with everything I have onto the road waving my arms.
He doesn’t slow down.
“There you are!”
I turn to see Ryan hobble onto the road behind me, his face covered in blood. The gun wavers as he lines it up with me.
I turn back to Payton, but instead of slowing he cuts left of my position and pulls into a hard turn, skidding the truck sideways between myself and Ryan, the first shot striking the side of the cab.
But the Dodge has too much momentum. It keeps skidding, the tailgate collecting Ryan and flinging him a good six or seven feet backwards.
I see the driver’s door open and Payton get out, his legs moving underneath the truck.
I walk around the front of the Ram cautiously.
Payton’s down by Ryan, kicking the gun away. He places two fingers against Ryan’s neck. “He’s alive,” he shouts. “Get the rope out of the back of the truck.”
I find it and toss it over, Payton binding Ryan’s arms together behind his back, but given the strange angle of his leg and bloodied face, I don’t imagine he’s going anywhere.
Payton takes out Ryan’s cell and brings it to his ear. “Nine-one-one? Yes…”
I watch him disassociated from the scene, as if I’m floating above it.
Another car has stopped, an elderly gentleman stepping out and trying to take in the scene.
Payton puts down the cell and runs over to him, pointing back in the direction of the campus and the column of smoke rising from it.
The man gets back into his car and does a U-turn.
“Lacey!” Payton shouts, his voice distant.
He runs over and hugs me.
I’m feeling more lucid, but with it comes a fresh wave of pain.
I wince. “Easy, easy.”
He loosens up. “Sorry. You alright?”
“My shoulder…”
I grimace again when Payton touches it.
His eyebrows knit together. “It might be dislocated. I’m not sure.” He helps me over to the shade under the trees. “Sit down. Help’s on its way.”
“I think Ryan lit the fire at Dante’s,” I tell him.
“I know,” he replies, kissing me on the forehead. “I know.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
PAYTON
I’m sitting in a bare-bones hospital room with Lacey. She’s still groggy from the anesthesia they had to give her before popping her shoulder back into place, not to mention the drug required to counter the ketamine.
I’m holding her hand by the bed, a nurse cleaning up in the corner.
There’s a knock on the door. “How we doing in here?”
It’s the Captain.
I look to Lacey, her half-lidded eyes still the most beautiful thing I’ve seen.
Ryan’s in surgery last I heard, but it’s likely he’ll pull through to face the music. It’s just as well. Death would be far too light a punishment considering what he did to Hernandez.
“Look,” I start, as the Captain enters, “I’m sorry about what happened in the Dean’s office.”
“Let’s not talk about that now,” he says, leaning against the wall by the door. “I’ve just finished running this shitstorm over with the Chief of Police, gave him the photo you handed Jackson—all of which marks Ryan as our man along with Lacey’s account. And this thing, with Nelson… What he was going to do to her…” he trails off. “It’s sorry fucking business. You had someone check you over, son?”
“Yes, Captain,” I nod.
He takes a seat by the bed, smiling at the nurse leaving the room. He removes his cap. “You should be proud of yourself, Cox, for what you did today. You saved her life.”
“Does that mean I’m back in?” I joke.
The Captain grins. “Like I said, let’s talk about it later, but I’ve seen worse cases for reevaluation.”
“What happened,” I recall, “at campus?”
The Captain brings one leg up onto the other. “Well, I suppose lighting a fire at a fire academy isn’t the smartest of ideas. We let it burn out in the end. Truth be told, we were thinking about pulling it down this year anyhow, putting up one twice as tall, really put you recruits to the test.”
“But how did Ryan light it? I saw him in his room?”
The Captain nods to himself, as if he was expecting this question. “Given the slow spread on the bottom floor, we’re thinking he lit it before he came to the Dean’s office. I guess he knew what the outcome would be. But once it hit that kerosene store… Up she went. I have to give the little shit credit for paying attention in Combustibles.”
Lacey’s hand twitches in my own.
“You ever come across something like this before?” I ask.
The Captain straightens. “A fire bug in a fire academy? Sure, like moths to a flame. We tend to weed them out earlier on, but your friend Fielding kept it well hidden.” He lowers his voice, checking the door. “Between you and me, I thought it was King.”
“So did I.”
The Captain stands and puts his cap back on. “The kid’s still creepy.” He stands with his hands on his hips. “You’ve given your statement to the police?”
“Yes, sir.”
The Captain glances to Lacey. “Give my regards to our girl when she wakes, and come back to campus when you’re done. We’ll have a chat with the Dean in the morning.” He stops before he’s out the door. “Oh, and Cox…”
“Captain.”
He turns with a smile on his face. “Nice driving.”
*
The following morning Lacey and I walk hand in hand from the hospital. “You sure you’re okay? Mentally, that is,” I question.
She gives me a side glance. “It would take more than being drugged, kidnapped, and almost shot to concern me.”
Just thinking about it makes me wish I’d hit the fucker head on.
“The doctor said the drug’s all out of my system,” she continues, “which I guess is why I’m feeling a little more like myself today.”
“You mean scorchingly hot and quippy to boot?”
“I mean ‘not wanting to sleep for a hundred years.’”
“What if I was in bed with you?”
She reaches up to kiss the side of my neck, the tip of her tongue darting out to lick at my earlobe. “Then I really wouldn’t be the ‘sleeping’ beauty now, would I?”
“Did the Captain come around?” she asks.
“He did.”
“And?”
“He said we’re going to talk to the Dean, maybe find a way to get me back in at Pemberton.”
“That’s great,” she enthuses.
“You sure? You might not be so enthusiastic when I’m kicking your ass in training all day.”
She laughs aloud, head tilted back to the sky. “Remind me again why I’m with a guy with a hot-air balloon for a head?”
“Because he gives great head?” I retort.
She looks at me sideways and I’m dying already to get into her pants and help her forget this whole fucking mess. “The doctor did order rest and relaxation.”
I give a bow. “Your wish is my command, princess, and speaking of which, behold your carriage.”
My pickup’s been impounded, but King was kind enough to lend me his car.
Lacey explodes with laughter. “A pink Chevy Neon? I can almo
st see your balls shriveling.”
I open the passenger door and help her in, not like she needs it. Apart from a few superficial grazes and a sore shoulder, she’ll be in perfect health soon enough.
I run around to the driver’s side, hanging my head in shame when I spot a dancing Hawaiian girl on the dash. “Just my luck the only car available was a giant pink vagina.”
“Hey,” she says, “that’s offensive to vaginas.”
I lean over and kiss her. “Not all vaginas are as pretty as yours, pumpkin.”
She shrugs. “One, I’m not your pumpkin and two, I suppose all cocks aren’t as pretty as yours either.”
I start the car-slash-super tampon. “Call my cock ‘pretty’ one more time and we’ll be having words.”
She takes my hand and runs it down the front of her pants. I’m surprised to find she’s wet. “Wouldn’t you rather have something else?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I reply, and I can guarantee this Nova’s never moved so fast in its life.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
LACEY
TWELVE WEEKS LATER
I stand at the podium looking out over a sea of eager faces. Down at the front sits Pemberton’s graduating class of 2017, and what a proud bunch we are, none more than Payton.
I begin my speech, a cloudless sky watching on. “True heroism is remarkably sober. It is not the urge to surpass all others at whatever cost, but the urge to serve others at whatever cost. My father was a firefighter. His name was Gregory Davis Nelson, and he was a hero.”
Through some divine miracle I manage to keep my composure through this first part of my speech, going on to discuss the merits of our class, the effort we’re put in, the many hardships we faced. At the end, I speak about Mateo Hernandez and his contribution to the class, inviting those gathered to take a moment of silence to remember him.
I finish with another quote, focusing on Payton and his beaming smile. “For many of us, it was not an easy decision to come here. To arrive, one must leave the city of their comfort and go out into the wilderness of their own intuition. The place we came looking for is not one you can reach by bus, only by hard work and risk, and by not quite knowing what you’re doing. But find it and what you discover is wonderful. What you discover is yourself. Thank you.”
The applause is thunderous, the Captain nodding as I step down from the podium.
The Dean takes my place. “Pemberton Fire Academy Class of 2017, it is my great honor to welcome you as probationary firefighters to the great institution that is the US Firefighting Service. Congratulations.”
Graduation caps whip into the air. I walk down from the stage and throw mine away, Payton pulling me into his arms and spinning us around as the class continues to whoop and shout. It’s a wonderful feeling, especially knowing I’ve found more than purpose these last sixteen weeks. I’ve found the love of my life.
We’re deep in a kiss, almost doing it on the quad, when I spot Mom walking over out the corner of my eye. Reluctantly, I peel myself from Payton. “Mom. Hi.”
She looks up (way up, given she’s barely five feet tall). “And you must be Payton.” She takes in his arms. “My, you are a strapping lad.”
“Mom!” I protest.
Payton extends his hand, smiling. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”
“Ma’am!” she gushes. “And a gentleman, too!” She winks at him. “Maybe I’ll take you home for myself.”
“Mom! God,” I exclaim, mortified.
“It’s okay,” laughs Payton. “Beauty runs in the family, it seems.”
I roll my eyes. He’s playing Mom like a freakin’ fiddle.
By the time we make it across to the new Dante’s, now a café, they’re basically besties.
If only you met him when I first got here, I think.
It seems like forever ago now.
I’d never met anyone so arrogant, so full of themselves in all my life, but I’ve come to know a different Payton, a man of kindness and purpose and utter devotion… not to mention endless stamina. If I was to add up the amount of orgasms I’ve had these last few weeks it would make for a mile of O’s.
We sit at a table outside, Payton with a lemon, lime, and bitters. I don’t think he’s been too keen on heavy drinking since our little vodka showdown.
Mom’s not holding back. She has not one, but two cocktails lined up ready to go. “Are your parents here today, Payton?”
I stiffen, but Payton places his glass down, taking a moment to compose himself before replying. “I’m afraid not. We don’t exactly see eye to eye when it comes to my career choice.”
“I can understand,” says Mom, happy to have a confidant. “I basically begged Lacey not to come home, especially after what happened to her father,” she looks at me, “but I’ve come around. He would have been so, so very proud, kiddo.”
I take her hand and squeeze, close to tears. “Thanks, Mom.”
“My pleasure, pumpkin. Now, if we can only find you a nice desk job…”
“Mom…”
She waves it off. “I know, I know, but I’m a mother. It’s my job to worry. When you two have kids—”
Thankfully, Payton cuts her off. “You don’t need to worry about a thing, Mrs. Nelson,” Payton cuts in. “I’m going to take very good care of her.”
The innuendo goes right over Mom’s head; she happily sits there sipping on her piña colada.
While the two of them continue to chit-chat, I look around at the others. Jackson’s parents are completely not what I expected—stiff-backed and dead serious. He sits in their company like a schoolboy.
I have to laugh when he sees me watching. “Kill me,” he mouths.
We’ve been through a lot, the bunch of us. I meant what I said in that speech—every word. No other class in Pemberton history has faced the difficulties we have, but we’re going to be stronger for it.
There is one glaring absence. Last I heard, Ryan had been moved interstate to a proper penitentiary pending trial. There was talk he might try and plea down to manslaughter, even push for insanity. Maybe he is insane, but he needs to face the consequences.
It’s likely we’ll be called to trial to give witness, but for now I simply want to enjoy this moment and move on.
I see Mom off and head in to start packing up. It’s not like I had a lot of things here to begin with, but there’s a certain sadness knowing this is all coming to an end.
For some bizarre reason, I decide to keep the neon thong from The Juicy Lucy. I’m about to toss the latter into the box on the bed when there’s a knock against the doorframe.
Payton walks in, nodding at the thong. “Now there’s a sight for sore eyes.”
I stretch it out. “At least it got your attention.”
He grabs my ass from behind. “This got my attention long before that strip club.”
“It did?” I tease, running my hand up his side.
“Yes, ma’am.”
A voice comes from the hall. “Get a room, you two.”
I see King standing there with a box of his own.
Payton continues to watch me. “You know, Jackson, maybe we will.”
Together, we pack the last of my things away.
We bump into the Captain in the hallway.
“Hold up there a moment,” he says, blocking the path.
I place down the box.
Hands on his hips, the Captain looks to Payton first. “Son, you put me through the wringer, you really did, but you know what?”
“What’s that, sir,” replies Payton.
A smile opens up on the Captain’s face, perhaps the first real smile I’ve seen him give. “I’m damn proud of you. Hell, I might even shed a tear when you’re gone.”
Payton smiles back. “I wouldn’t want you crying over me, Captain.”
He laughs. “Tears of joy, maybe.” He extends his hand, Payton taking it. “Well done, recruit.”
The Captain looks to me. “And you, Nelson. I don’t think
I’ve seen finer in all my twenty years here at the Academy. Your dad would be proud. Top of your class, hard-working—You’ll make a fine firefighter. Money well spent,” I say,” he winks.
Money well spent?
And then I realize.
It was the Captain. He paid my fees.
“You—” I start.
He takes my hand. “Take care of yourself now.”
I shake. “Thank you, sir, for everything.”
“My pleasure, Nelson.” He takes a step back. “Now, get the fuck off my turf before I sign you up for another year.”
“Yes, Captain,” we reply in unison.
PAYTON
Lacey rolls off me breathing hard, her chest flushed. “That was…”
“Incredible?” I offer, lying there with the hands behind my back.
We’re in a five-star hotel by the airport, the only place that had accommodation this close to the holidays.
Lacey wraps the sheet around herself and stands, walking over to the window. “As for the view…”
The airport parking lot doesn’t make for a grand vista, planes soaring to the sky on the horizon beyond.
“So,” I ask her, “where do you want to go?”
“Go?”
“You didn’t seriously think we were going to hang around here in the desert for our eight weeks of freedom, did you? We are at an airport.”
She looks through the window. “You want to get on one of those planes?”
I point to the far right where the private jets are located. “No, I’m talking about one of those planes. I had the family pilot fly in this afternoon. He’s refueling right now ready for the morning.”
I can see the shock. “What exactly is it your father does again?”
I laugh. “He’s head of one of the biggest hedge funds in America.”
“Oh.”
“So believe me when I tell you you won’t be flying coach again. But you didn’t answer my question.”
“Where do I want to go?” She shakes her head. “I have absolutely no idea. This is a bit overwhelming. What about Mom?”
I toss Lacey her cell. She catches it with one hand. “What about her? Search ‘Random place generator.’”
“Like spinning a globe and pointing a finger at it?”
“Precisely.”