Caught in the Flames

by Kacey Shea

  “Hold up, what?” Alicia looks as stunned as I feel.

  “Wait, you didn’t know?” Jill’s brow furrows.

  “No! I didn’t fucking know! He never shared anything about his family. Only that things were really fucked up.” I sit back on the floor. My temples pulse and I rub them to alleviate the pain.

  “I’m sorry, Callie. I’ll shut up now. See, I shouldn’t have said anything. This is making you upset.”

  “No. Don’t do that. Might as well give it all to me.” I brace myself for whatever she says next. Alicia scoots to my side and holds my hand.

  “Well, a few of the times I stayed at Cam’s, Tiff would come over, like really needy, and I don’t know, I felt it was fake, you know? Like she was just doing it for attention. And she’d sleep over.”

  “Okay . . .” That’s not so bad. I already guessed Tiff is a manipulative bitch.

  “That’s not it. She always slept in Chase’s bed. With him. And I thought that was weird. You know? They’re grown adults. Half siblings. And she’s like a good seven years older than him. Anyway. It’s just that sometimes . . .” Jill covers her eyes and scrunches her face. “I thought they were fucking! Okay? There. I said it. It sounded like someone was fucking in the other room.”

  “Oh. My. God.” Alicia blanches and squeezes my hand tighter.

  “But I don’t have proof and, you know, maybe it was my own overactive imagination. And when I brought it up to Cam, well, that’s when we had the big blow up! He said I was sick for even suggesting something like that. For accusing his brother and sister of something so horrible. And I told him his brother was a dick anyway, for cheating on my friend. And then he talked shit about Alicia.” Jill paces and I’m attempting to process this new information.

  “So I’m not crazy!” I almost shout. Alicia and Jill meet my stare. “I’ve played everything in my head, over and over, and Tiff, she comes up every time. But I keep thinking no, it’s just his sister, even if she didn’t like me, why would he not tell me about her? So thank you, Jill! Thank you for proving I’m not crazy!”

  Alicia appraises the restocked boxes and Jill’s eyes follow.

  I shrug. “At least about that.”

  “I should have told you sooner. It’s just, I feel gross for even thinking it, you know? And now that Cam and I are . . . doing whatever it is we’re doing, I just, I needed to get this off my conscience. So thank you, even though I feel really selfish.”

  “I’m glad you told me. And you’re free to do whatever you want with Cam. Don’t hold back on my account.”

  Jill falls to her knees before me and squeezes me in a hug. “Thank you,” she whispers in my ear.

  “Girl on girl, can I get in on this action?” Alicia teases, and we pull her into our embrace.

  “Bitches are the best,” Alicia sighs.

  Alicia and Jill don’t leave until after midnight and I completely pass out. The day’s events finally catch up with my body and mind. I sleep straight through the night and well into the morning. I eventually emerge from the cocoon of Kiki’s basement when my growing hunger and rumbling stomach win out over the comfort of the cool, dark space.

  Still in sweats and my hair a wild mess, I drag my body up the stairs and toward the smell of brewing coffee. I open the door that leads to the kitchen and freeze when I notice a man’s voice.

  But it’s too late. Kiki and Ash turn their faces to appraise my disheveled state. Thankful for my sweats but still feeling naked without a being able to put on makeup, comb my hair, and wear a bra, I cross my arms over my chest.

  “Morning,” I say to Kiki. “I didn’t know we were having visitors.”

  Ash chuckles but I refuse to give him attention. Kiki grins and points to the empty chair next to him. “Sit. I’ll get you a cup.”

  “I think I’ll stand.”

  “Ashley was kind enough to stop by and check on us. He has the day off and volunteered to help with the yard.”

  Wait, what? The yard is my thing. I glare at Ash as Kiki hands me a steaming mug of coffee. It’s challenging to keep the scowl in place with the fragrant goodness of roasted beans working their way to my senses. “Oh, I don’t think we need help.”

  “Nonsense. Look at him!” Kiki smiles and takes her seat, but not before she squeezes one of Ash’s biceps. And sure, they’re impressive, but I’ve been doing just fine alone.

  “I better get busy.” Ash stands and walks past me on the way toward the sink. I keep my head held high and ignore the way his muscles strain when he washes out his mug. Well, I try at least. It’s difficult not to notice now that Kiki’s pointed out how ripped he is, and the shirt molded to his frame doesn’t help. You think he’d buy a bigger shirt.

  “Callie, why don’t you change and join Ash? I’m sure you could work together. He’s taking down some of the branches of the oak so Silas won’t climb up there. Isn’t that sweet?”

  “I actually have to work today,” I say even though it’s not true. Jim insisted I take at least the weekend, more time if needed, before getting back to my projects.

  Ash walks back toward me and the back door so I step out of the way, only he moves too, and then again. “Thanks for the dance.” He chuckles softly and I stop moving so he can just step around me. “I like these.” He reaches up and tugs at one of my crazy curls with a wink before stepping outside and onto the deck.

  “I like him,” Kiki declares.

  “Yes, I think you’ve made that clear.” I hold back any further comments because they aren’t very nice. “I’m going to shower and get to work.” I glance out the window to see Ash setting up a ladder at the base of the tree.

  “Very good, dear,” Kiki muses over her mug. She’s also checking out Ash. I shake my head. Not that I was. No. Just being nosey. That’s it. “If you finish work early, you should join him. Maybe give him a hand, or two.” She winks at me and I’ve been busted ogling the help.

  “I think I’ll go find a coffee shop to work at today. Free Wi-Fi.”

  “Of course, dear.”

  I hate working in Kiki’s yard since Ash showed up.

  Why he is here again today?

  It’s irritating because I had this yard under control by myself. Just because my house burned down doesn’t mean I’m incompetent at gardening. It’s almost as if he’s keeping watch, and Ash doesn’t know me, so why he feels the need to do that digs at my unsteady confidence.

  “Callie, dear, aren’t you going to paint the shed before you plant those?” Kiki calls from the deck. I glance up to see she holds a steaming cup of java. I quickly desert Ash and the pot of azaleas for my morning fix.

  “Thanks.” I pull off my gloves, wipe the beads of sweat from my forehead with the back of my arm, and take the offered cup of coffee. Even on this late October morning I can work up perspiration. “Yeah, I need to get paint and start tomorrow. It’s supposed to rain next week.”

  Kiki nods to where Ash hauls a bunch of dead branches to the front yard. “He’s handy.”

  “Yeah. I guess.”

  “Maybe he can help paint.”

  “I don’t know . . . I prefer to work alone. Besides, I didn’t invite him. I don’t know why he’s here again.”

  “I have a guess.” Kiki waggles her brows.

  I ignore her insinuation. Without a doubt, that’s not why Ash is here. More likely he’s assessing my mental well-being, or investigating me for possible arson.

  “Ashley!” Kiki calls as he returns through the gate. His lips pull in a hard line before he nods and struts over. I love that she calls him by his full name. Yesterday before I left to work at the coffee shop, I made a huge deal to Kiki about how much he prefers it. It grates on him, I know, and I receive a little satisfaction every time she calls him by name. I have to bite my lip so a giggle doesn’t escape as he joins us on the deck.

  “Ashley, would you be a dear and make a run for some paint with Callie? It’s for the woodshed and I think the cans are too heavy for her to carry.”
/>
  My chin snaps up, all humor lost, and I glare at Kiki. She ignores me completely, using her sweet gravelly voice to add, “I think she needs your help.”

  “No!” I shout.

  “Sure,” he agrees at the same time.

  I turn my glare on Ash.

  He appraises my face with a quirk of his lip as if he finds my reaction entertaining. “I can help paint, too. Seems more like a two-person job.”

  “Wonderful! It’s settled. Aren’t you a nice man?” Kiki beams.

  “Ugh!” I roll my eyes and march past them both, inside to the kitchen so I can down my coffee in solitude. I refill the mug while my mind frantically searches for some calm inner peace. I wish I had a new stack of sticky notes and pens. That would make me feel better.

  I do not want to paint with Ash this weekend. Sure, he seems nice enough, but don’t they all? I know his type. And I swore off firemen, so it’s fucking with my head that he’s here, being helpful and kind and shit. The fact that Kiki’s obviously enamored by his chivalry doesn’t help, either. At the slide of the door my gaze snaps up.

  “Let’s go, Sweet Cheeks! It’s supposed to rain next week. Let’s buy this paint and get started,” Ash says.

  “Don’t call me Sweet Cheeks.”

  He just chuckles and shuts the door again. I reach for my keys and purse, slam back the rest of my coffee, and brace myself for a car ride with Ash. I step back outside between him and Kiki and their conversation halts. Kiki’s lips snap shut and he studies the sky. Great. They were talking about me.

  “We going or what?” I say.

  “Come on. Let’s take my car.” Ash turns and starts walking. I try to gain Kiki’s attention but she won’t meet my eyes.

  “I don’t know what you’re up to, Kiki Callahan, but I’m on to you,” I whisper shout.

  “Oh, Callie, dear, you worry so much. Just have a nice time with Ashley and pick out a good color. Something fresh. Different. And he’s a nice man. It’s okay to ask for help.”

  I respond with a sound that’s not a word, and jog down the deck steps, across the lawn, and to the front yard to catch up with Ash. He stands a few yards from the street, in worn jeans and a shirt that grips every muscle of his arms and chest. The ink of his tattoos scrolls out from the hem of his shirt, down his arms, and peeks out of his collar. It’s not fair. He looks way too attractive for someone who spent all morning doing manual labor, while I know my curls are a mess from where they pop out of my bandana. His ball cap, forever on his head, is pulled low so I can’t read his eyes. I’d guess they’re still laughing, though.

  I stop short when he clicks his key fob to unlock the doors to his vehicle and the most pathetic little honk fills the air. Honk? More like toot. His car toots. “Ash. What the fuck is this?”

  “My car?” he raises his brows as if he doesn’t understand the travesty at hand.

  “If you can even call it that,” I scoff. “Dude, you drive a fucking Prius? No wonder your parents named you after a girl.” I shake my head and close my eyes. It’s a catastrophe, really. How could this man drive this vehicle? It’s one of life’s unsolved mysteries. It’s not right. The world truly is a fucked up place.

  Ash laughs and opens my door. “Get in the fucking car, Callie. It won’t hurt.”

  “I beg to differ. I don’t even know if I can be seen with you anymore. A Prius? I expected so much more.” I’m still confused as he walks around the miniature front hood and slides into his seat.

  “Oh, yeah? What did you expect?” He pulls onto the street without a rumble, roar, or even a sputter. Only silence. What the fuck is this? Sorcery.

  “Not this!”

  “Jesus, you’re really worked up about this.” He chuckles and turns us toward the hardware store.

  “I am.” I shake my head. I really am, which is sort of stupid because why should I even care. It’s not as though Ash is anything to me. I laugh. “It’s just when you have such a hot guy voluntarily driving such a bitch car it throws every stereotype and expectation I’ve ever had out the window! I don’t even know what to think about you now.” I chuckle again and finally glance over at Ash.

  He tilts his head to the side. “You think I’m hot, huh?”

  “That’s your take away?” I raise my brows.

  He laughs, a loud deep sound that threatens to pull my own lips into a smile. I try to fight it. I think he saw them move, though.

  “We need a do over. I think we could become good friends if we hadn’t met while I was working.”

  “Why? Because you’re a jerk on the job?”

  “Kind of.” He grins and pulls the car to a stop and puts the gear in park. Seriously, this car is a joke. But I’ve got bigger worries on my mind. I don’t move to get out of the car, and he doesn’t either.

  “Why are you helping me?”

  “Because I want to.”

  “No, why me?”

  He twists his hands over the brim of his cap, bending it a little before he answers. “I don’t really know. I just do.”

  “No ulterior motives?”

  “Not every action needs a reason. Sometimes you just see something and want to do it, ya know?”

  “So, you’re just helping because you feel like it?” It’s difficult to believe.

  “Yeah.” His gaze holds no teasing. He’s sincere.

  “And you don’t expect anything?”

  “No. I don’t. Well, I should say, I didn’t. But the more I’m around you, the more I think we should be friends.”

  “Friends?”

  “Yeah. That’s when two people spend time together because they enjoy the company . . .”

  “Ha ha, dumbass.” I roll my eyes.

  “Come on, let’s go argue about paint.” He nods and opens his door. I mirror his action and we meet, side by side, to walk inside the store.

  “What makes you think we’ll argue about paint?”

  He just laughs, that deep sound, and shakes his head while I try to match his long, purposeful strides. I don’t even try to fight the grin this time. And he’s correct. We fight about the paint, but I leave the store with the satisfaction that the paint is red and not the chocolatey shit brown Ash suggested.

  I love insecurities.

  And how all it takes is one phone call for everything I doubt about myself to come flaring back to the surface. When my phone rings on this beautiful Sunday afternoon I assume it’s my dad so I set down my brush and smile at Ash while he continues to paint Kiki’s shed only a few feet away. A glance at my phone wipes the smile from my face.

  Why is he calling? Do I answer? Do I send to voicemail? Is he checking on me? Damn it, why do I still care? Oh, hell, I want to hear his voice.

  “Hello.” I answer as casually as possible.

  “Callie?”

  “Chase? How are you?” I say and Ash’s gaze snaps up to meet my face. I swallow hard. My stomach bubbles with nerves—both from speaking to Chase and from the tight line Ash’s lips form beneath the shadow of his ball cap.

  “I’m fine. Callie, I need to ask you a few questions,” Chase barks into the line.

  “O—okay.” I turn around and step away. Deep inhale. My heart pounds in my chest and I can feel it all the way up to my throat. It’s strange to hear him on the phone after all this time. Be cool, Callie, don’t hyperventilate. He’s still an asshole.

  “What were you doing Thursday morning before the fire?”

  Of course. This is why he’s calling. The fire. Not to check up on me. The most words he’s said to me since the night we stopped being “us” and they’re work related—typical.

  “Working.” I say.

  “Where?”

  “My kitchen table.” I huff and allow frustration to seep into my tone.

  “And did you go outside at all that morning? For any reason?”

  “No.”

  “Notice anything suspicious? Out of order? Different?” What the heck?

  “No. It was a regular day for me. Well
, until my house went up in flames. Chase, what is this about?”

  The silence stretches and I glance over to find Ash still watching me closely. What for, I have no clue. I bug my eyes at him and make a painting motion, then point at the house. The paint will dry on the brush if he doesn’t get back to work. Besides, his gaze is unnerving. Intense. I’m trying to talk to Chase and that alone has me all discombobulated.

  “Chase, do you know when I can get back inside my house or when I might have a report to turn in to my insurance company? I drove by this morning and they still had it all roped off with tape like it’s some crime scene.”

  “I don’t know, maybe a few days,” he says all short as if I’m the one being difficult. Really? He called to talk business but apparently he’s the only one allowed to ask questions.

  “If that’s all you need then I need to get back to my—”

  “Callie, why did you go back into the building after you called nine-one-one? Why didn’t you stay put like the operator asked?” He’s almost shouting now. “Goddamn it, we were on our fucking way! You could’ve died, you know that?”

  A shiver runs down my spine with the memory. I was stupid. I don’t need the reminder, especially from him. “I get it, okay. I know. I shouldn’t have, but I did.”

  “What was so fucking important?”

  “Huh?”

  “What did you go back inside for?”

  Oh. That. There’s no way in hell I’m admitting to a bra. Besides, we aren’t together. He hasn’t called me once since our breakup. And now he’s acting all concerned and protective. “Why are you asking me this? Are you now adding fire investigator to your job title?”

  Chase blows out a breath that carries through the line in a loud whoosh. “Look, I’m concerned. And no, I’m not the fire investigator. He’ll probably be calling you soon, but I have to ask for myself . . .” his voice trails off.

  “What?”

  “Callie, did you start the fire?” His voice is hard.

  “No! What the hell, Chase?”

  “Then, were you trying to hurt yourself when you went back inside?”

  “I’m hanging up now.” I end the call before I say anything I might regret. I shove the phone in my back pocket with more force than necessary. “Mother fucker!” I scream to the sky simply because it feels good.