Up in Smoke (Firehouse Three, #4)

by Sidney Bristol

  “I don’t...we didn’t do anything wrong.” He stared at the kitchen table, the surface gleaming. How many times had he scrubbed it?

  “No, we didn’t.” She sighed and pushed her plate away from her.

  “Mom never adopted you, so it’s not like we were legally brother and sister. It was just the easiest label to explain things.” He was rationalizing. If she gave him long enough, he’d either come up with an acceptable answer or mire himself in so much guilt he’d lose his appetite.

  She was going to exchange the guilt of keeping a secret for the guilt of telling the truth. Well, one truth. There were other facts, like her real occupation, he could never know.

  “This probably isn’t my place to tell you this, but...our parents weren’t married.”

  “What?” Chaz scrunched up his face.

  Yes, it sounded crazy, but facts were facts.

  “Chaz, wasn’t it strange to you that your mom went off on a vacation, by herself, and came back married to a guy you’d never met or heard about? How many people do you know who do that?”

  “She...she loved your dad.”

  “Love at first sight? Do you really think your mother is the kind of person to see someone and get married to them?”

  “Not anymore.”

  “Was she then?”

  Chaz frowned and glanced at his phone. Could he call Martha now? Not likely.

  “The truth?” Payton folded her hands together on the tabletop. “Your mom and my dad grew up in the same town and went to the same school. That’s how they knew each other. They used to be friends. And before you jump in, let me finish, okay?”

  He closed his mouth, still staring at her.

  “Dad’s name wasn’t Calvin Harris and mine wasn’t always Payton. My dad was a con artist, but what you didn’t know... He made some enemies, tried to fix things and wound up in a lot of trouble. As I understand it, he ran into your mom twice. The first time at the hospital when she was there to see someone, and then again when Dad went to go see the US Marshals about turning over on someone.”

  Chaz’s mouth was bracketed by deep lines.

  “He’d just found out about his cancer. Knew it was bad. And he was scared for me, what would happen if he got sick. Long story short? Your mom fake-married my dad. They conned the system. He changed our identities and they got just enough paperwork done to make it look legal.”

  “That’s...crazy.”

  “Yeah, it is.” And it’d worked. For years. “Your mom wanted to take care of someone. My dad needed someone to take care of him. They were friends. Dad hoped that, if he died as soon as they said he would, I’d have someone to look after me.”

  Chaz opened and closed his mouth.

  “I thought from the beginning that you should know, but Martha and Dad didn’t agree.” Even as a teen, he’d been so clear-cut on how things should be. Payton had understood the end choice to keep him in the dark, that he’d only be hurt by everyone’s deception.

  “Why now?” he asked.

  “Because...” She shrugged. “Your conscience was probably eating you up over the idea of screwing your sister, am I right?”

  He didn’t answer.

  Because she was right.

  In the harsh light of day, he wouldn’t make excuses for something he saw as wrong, even if it felt right.

  “How... Is there proof?” He gripped the edge of the table.

  “Um.” Payton bit her lip and stared at the table. There used to be, but... Wait. “Hold that thought.”

  She jogged back to her room.

  Chaz had left it untouched.

  And she’d held onto their past for a long time before embracing her life as Payton.

  She dug into the closet, past the things Chaz had moved into the room, unfamiliar boxes to the very back.

  An old cigar box.

  One of the heavy, wooden ones.

  She’d found it in a thrift shop. Knowing her old self, she’d probably stolen it.

  Payton carried the box back to the kitchen. It was dusty from years of neglect, a couple spider webs clinging to the side.

  She opened the box and stared at the contents.

  There was no more stab of pain. No more twinge of loss.

  That life...it didn’t mean anything to her anymore.

  She pulled out a folded piece of paper, a few IDs and some other papers.

  “A birth certificate?” Chaz frowned at it. “Nicole Payton Carter?”

  “Dad used to be Joe Carter.” She laid the faded driver’s license on the table. “Payton was his mother’s name. I wanted to keep it, even though he tried to talk me out of it.”

  “What’s...are these...”

  “Dad’s old police record.”

  It would list charges that went back decades. Everything from theft to breaking and entering. He hadn’t developed a case of morals until later in life. Genetically speaking, she was predisposed to a life of crime. In hindsight, maybe laying out her heritage like this wasn’t such a great idea. Then again, maybe this was the wedge she needed to slip away. To become part of his past. Damn, that hurt.

  7.

  Chaz stared at a bit of photocopied handwriting on the second page.

  Contributing to the delinquency of a minor.

  The accused, Carter, aided his daughter in stealing...

  He couldn’t read more.

  He’d always known Calvin—Joe—used Payton—Nicole—as a tool. There were moments, times he’d overheard Mom and Calvin. Or when Calvin wanted something Mom was against... He’d pressured Payton into bringing it home. From smokes to booze, he’d asked. Nothing huge. But it was illegal. And it wasn’t like they’d had money for that kind of stuff. Not with Calvin sick and them all depending on Mom.

  If Chaz could raise Calvin Harris from the grave...

  “I realize this probably paints me in a bad light, too. I mean, how could I come from all this and—”

  Chaz stood, dropping the old sheets of paper on the floor and pulled Payton to him. He needed to hold her. Touch her. Squeeze her back together.

  She wasn’t to blame for any of this. Sure, she’d lied to him because she was told to, but the fault rested with her old man. And Mom.

  He’d always known that the root of her behavior wasn’t her fault. That...she hadn’t had good examples. That she’d been used. Manipulated. Christ, what else had her old man done to her? Encouraged her to do?

  Her hands slowly wrapped around his waist.

  He kissed the top of her head.

  She peered up at him, a little wary behind the eyes.

  “I want to strangle your old man,” he said.

  “What? No.” She sighed. “He...he changed because of me. Because he saw that I was learning from his example. I got arrested, some other stuff kind of snowballed and he realized that if he didn’t change things...I was going to be like him. That’s when he started reaching out and got in contact with your mom. His original plan was to find someone normal. Nice. And leave me with them. But...your mom had other ideas.”

  Chaz could see that. His mom had a big heart. Presented with a situation she could solve, people she could care for, he could see her doing something crazy. Especially after Dad’s death. She’d needed someone to look after who needed her.

  Calvin Harris had needed a guardian angel. Mom was it. Chaz still hated the bastard on principle.

  The way he saw it, Payton was the victim here. More than himself. She’d been dragged around and shoved into roles without consideration to how it would change her. Mom...well, they’d been hurting. It didn’t make her actions right, but he could understand them at least. Calvin...that was a man Chaz would never understand.

  He felt her stomach rumble.

  “Eat. Then we shop.”

  Chaz nudged Payton into her chair. He busied himself refilling her cup, all the while rolling this new information around in his head.

  Mom and Calvin had never been very love-y. Friendly, yes. Passionate, no.

>   Case in point, that night he’d been so ticked off. The anniversary of his dad’s death. He’d sat there, watching Mom dote on Calvin and...Chaz had been angry. Hurt. Looking back, she’d treated Calvin like Chaz or Payton, tending to their needs, caring for them.

  She was the kind of person who’d take in a dying man and his daughter.

  What other secrets and sins had Calvin saddled Payton with?

  She’d been a girl. A child. And instead of chasing butterflies and capturing fireflies, she’d been forced into her father’s world. Chaz knew they hadn’t had a home before coming here. She’d talked a few times about apartments or trailers they’d stayed at for stretches of time, but usually it was all motels, extended stay rooms, temporary lodgings.

  He glanced at her, finally eating.

  Both last night and this morning, she’d expected him to push her away. Her actions made some sense, viewed through the lens of her true history. She’d been rejected and judged her whole life. Even by him, and he wasn’t proud of that.

  Well, that ended now.

  Maybe he could give her a reason to quit this crazy job of hers. Stay here. Under one roof.

  He’d start by giving her a Christmas to remember.

  Chaz fired off a few texts. He wasn’t sure where one got all the things to go on a tree this close to Christmas. Truth was, until this year, he’d always volunteered to work the holidays because so many guys had families and Mom liked to take trips. He kind of liked the idea of making it all new again, for himself and Payton. Besides, hadn’t that new guy sent some sort of sign-up around the firehouse for a charity Christmas sale something or other?

  Abby, another firefighter, hit him back first.

  Hopeful Paws. Duh. You grumbled about it, remember? Any plans tonight?

  Nope. He did not recall the name. But he’d had a lot of paperwork to juggle.

  Hopeful...Paws... Oh, fuck. That place.

  He just prayed no one brought up that bachelor auction. On a good day, he forgot about that, and the granny who’d bought a date for her son. Her son.

  Chaz had kept the particulars to himself.

  The kid had been nice, and the gesture kind on the part of his granny, but man, talk about an awkward evening.

  “What’s that face for?” Payton snagged his empty plate and rinsed the last dishes off.

  “Nothing. You need to do anything before we go?”

  “Go where?” She frowned over her shoulder.

  “Shopping.”

  “Can’t we just...watch a movie or something?”

  “Nope.” He patted her bottom. “Go do whatever you need to do. I’ll finish up in here.”

  It took him a good half hour to route her from the bathroom and out of the house. She’d never been a homebody, but for some reason, she didn’t seem keen on going out. Probably because she thought his knee hurt him. Truth was, he’d barely noticed it all morning. Sex probably wasn’t what his PT had in mind when she harassed him about more, regular activity. Still, he was more relaxed and looser than he’d been since before his surgery. Payton’s massages helped a lot.

  They listened to the radio on their way. She commented on a few of the changes to the area around Firehouse Three, but her face really lit up when she saw the long, tin building with a sky-blue roof that had become their local rescue.

  A food truck idled at the curb, a chalkboard advertising hot cocoa.

  The temporary fence sectioning off half the parking lot was decked out with lights and signs, advertising the Christmas tree fundraiser to benefit the homeless pets.

  “When did this open up?” Payton plastered her nose to the glass of the passenger window.

  “Oh, almost a year ago, I guess?”

  He recognized a few of the guys on sight. Of course those two knuckleheads were here. It could be worse. Redneck could always show up.

  The parking lot was full of prospective adopters and tree buyers, so he found a place a little ways down the street at the curb to park. For once he was looking forward to getting out of the house. He’d been wallowing in self-pity for far too long. Focusing on Payton was good for him.

  Chaz helped Payton out of the truck and took her hand in his. She stared at him for a moment, her face unreadable. Come to think of it, this would be the first time she’d met any of the guys. She’d never gone by the firehouse or to any of his functions because she was always out of town or doing something else. Such a strange fact to realize that two parts of his life were about to finally intersect.

  “Stick in the mud!” A guy in tan coveralls and a black jacket grinned at them.

  “Who is that?” Payton chuckled.

  “Hunter,” he muttered. Pain. In. His. Ass. The new guy liked to run his mouth. He’d gotten better, mellowed out a bit, but he wasn’t one of Chaz’s favorite people.

  Hunter and a second man ambled toward them. Two thirds of the unholy triad. Hunter and Spencer, plus the Redneck, had raised quite a bit of hell over the last year. The only thing that seemed to stop them was Drake, but he was likely off being responsible while those three idjits made trouble.

  “Hey, Chaz. Who’s this pretty lady?” Spencer held out his hand to Payton, his smooth smile inciting all kinds of jealous thoughts.

  “I’m Payton. Are you guys firefighters, too?”

  “Yes, we are. Payton?” Spencer’s gaze flicked from her face to their joined hands and back again. “Nice to meet you.”

  Fuck. The bad part about the two worlds colliding? At least a few of the guys knew about Payton in some form or fashion.

  “You looking for a tree? Or someone to keep you warm at night?” Hunter pulled off his gloves and shook Payton’s hand. “We’ve got this real ugly lab mix that’s just the right size for you, Chaz. You know you want to meet her.”

  “No.”

  “Chaz likes dogs.” Payton glanced up at him, her eyes sparkling. “Maybe we should go see her?”

  “Let’s get some hot chocolate and look at the trees.”

  “I’ll tell Charlie to bring your new girlfriend out, Chaz,” Hunter hollered after them.

  Payton snickered.

  “Do not encourage him,” Chaz muttered.

  “Oh, come on, he probably makes you laugh.”

  “He’s a pain in the ass.”

  Chaz paid for two hot cocoas. His, plain dark chocolate, a little bitter but damn good going down. Payton’s had some sort of...sparkly marshmallow crap and looked more like dirty milk in a cup than chocolate, but whatever. It was her drink. The groan she made at the first sip was worth it.

  “Hey, you found the place, okay?”

  Chaz turned and smiled. There she was. One of his favorite people.

  “Abby, this is Payton. Abby here is one of our best firefighters.”

  Payton’s brows rose. She looked from him to Abby.

  Shit. What the hell was she thinking now? That face meant something.

  “Chaz’s sister?” Abby tugged at the knit cap over her red hair.

  “Ex-step sister,” Payton said smoothly.

  “Ex?” Abby frowned. “How does one get to be an ex-sister? You divorced her or something?”

  “Our parents were married. Now they’re not.” Payton shrugged.

  “And you two are still friends? That’s cool.” Abby mimicked her shrug. There was some sort of female undercurrent going on, an exchange he wasn’t understanding.

  “Something like that.” Payton sipped her drink, some of the glitter clinging to her lips.

  “Hey, you never answered my text.” Abby glanced at him.

  “What text?” He blinked.

  “I asked you what you were doing tonight.” Abby rolled her eyes. “I have an extra ticket to Hyena’s tonight, if you wanted to go.”

  “I can’t.” He nodded at Payton. “Unless I can still get another ticket?”

  “It’s sold out.” Abby wrinkled her nose.

  “You could go.” Payton glanced away.

  “I’m not leaving you on your ow
n.” He frowned at her.

  “Maybe another time, Chaz.” Abby turned and gestured to the trees. “There’s some nice ones in that corner that would go pretty well in your living room.”

  “Thanks, Abby.” Chaz waited for her to walk away, then edged closer to Payton. “What the hell?”

  “What?” Payton’s brows rose.

  “What was that about?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Payton.”

  She sighed and fixed her stare on him. He could hear her say, Really? without her speaking the word.

  “She likes you.”

  “Who? Abby?” Chaz frowned.

  “Uh, yeah.”

  “No.”

  “Fine. Let’s go see these trees that would go pretty well in your living room.”

  She strolled across the lot, leaving him to catch up to her.

  His phone buzzed and he glanced at the text. From Abby.

  Your sister? Really?

  Chaz looked at those three words.

  She could just be looking out for him. He had unloaded a time or two on Abby, because she was a woman and had a better chance at explaining Payton’s erratic behavior than he did.

  Yeah. So?

  He silenced his phone and shoved it in his pocket. Given Abby’s staunch refusal to date anyone remotely connected to their firehouse or any other, he was surprised at Payton’s assumption. Abby had never made a secret of her hard and fast rule, no firefighters. He’d run interference for her a couple of times. Both Redneck and Spencer had hit her up for a date on more than one occasion, as well as a few other guys. Redneck, Spencer and Ty were the worst. Those guys would fuck anything that moved if it held still long enough.

  Chaz caught up with Payton and between the trees met up with Drake, whose fiancé owned Hopeful Paws. They narrowed it down to three trees, all with their own virtues.

  “Pick one,” Payton finally said. “I’m going inside to pee, you—pick a damn tree already.”

  She snagged his empty cup and headed toward the rescue’s front doors.

  “Trouble in paradise?” Drake asked when she was out of earshot.

  Chaz shook his head.

  “My advice? Get her a puppy.”

  “She doesn’t like to be jumped on.”

  “Sounds like a personal problem, man.”