Breaking: A Firefighter Romance (WQUZ News Book 2)

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Breaking: A Firefighter Romance (WQUZ News Book 2) Page 22

by Brandy Ayers


  They ate breakfast together in a hurry, then Trey walked Charlotte to her car and kissed her passionately for a full two minutes before letting her climb into the driver’s seat. “I’ll have one of the guys drop me off at the studio after my shift, and then we can drive home together. Sound good?”

  Charlotte nodded, kind of loving that he just assumed they would be coming back to her place again tonight.

  “You’re going to do amazing, sugar. Believe it, and everyone else will too.”

  ***

  “Charlotte, can you help me pull sound for the fire story?” Mira ran through the door, her photographer close behind. It was only forty minutes to show, and they had just returned from a fire in the South Side.

  Far outside the normal zone of the arsonist, no other stations had bothered going to the seemingly innocuous blaze. The building was destroyed, but no one had been inside at the time, thank god. But Mira had struck gold earlier in the day when she got a tip that the arsonist was seriously blowing the fire department’s budget, and they were begging the mayor for more money to cover overtime costs. So far he was refusing. That day’s fire would serve as a good reminder of all the hard worker firefighters put in for the city. And hopefully pressure the mayor a little more.

  “No problem. Rufus, what bay are you loading it in?” Charlotte grabbed her iPad and sprinted to the edit bay where that day’s footage would be uploaded.

  Under normal circumstances, Mira and Rufus would have gone live from outside City Hall, but security had been giving them trouble, and the team had no choice but to pull them back to the station. Thankfully, the full story didn’t need to be finished until the six o’clock show, they just needed some teaser video and sound for the five, something Charlotte would have no trouble helping with.

  Her first day had gone well. She stumbled a lot in the morning meeting, but no one seemed to notice, or at least they pretended not to. As the day went on, Charlotte’s nerves settled until they were simply a hum in the background.

  Now a different kind of energy burned through her system. The same electric current that took over her system the moment Trey touched her body. Excitement. The pressure to transcribe and pick a sounds bite pulsed at the base of her throat, but instead of shutting down, as Charlotte feared she would, it pushed her to do more.

  Shuttling through the video, Charlotte found where interviews with the residents around the fire started and pressed play. They would need something with emotion, but also useful information. She wasn’t likely to get that from the half-drunk college kid that they’d gotten on camera first, so she quickly skipped over that footage. Next was the one-on-one interview with the Fire Chief for the city.

  He’d begrudgingly agreed to the interview after Charlotte explained to him over the phone that Mira would be going forward with the story, so he could have his official comment on camera reassuring the people, or he could say no comment and look like he was hiding something.

  Just as Charlotte was about the fast forward the video a little more, past the part where Rufus focused the camera and mic’d up the Chief, her hand froze. In the background, just over the Fire Chief’s shoulder was Trey. His hand gripped the upper arm of a teenage boy, and by the look on his face, was giving him one hell of a lecture. The boy’s back was to the camera, so she couldn’t make anything out about who he might be, but he wore a huge Steelers sweatshirt, the hood pulled up over his hair, and jeans that clung to the kids slightly skinny legs.

  Several times, the kid tried to pull out of Trey’s grip, but the man who had occupied her bed for the entire week wouldn’t let go. Charlotte turned the speakers up as high as they would go, hoping to catch any hint at what they were arguing about. No luck, the microphones used by the photographers were short distance directional and would have had no chance to pick up the conversation from half a block away.

  Just as the Chief started in on answering Mira’s questions, the boy finally managed to break away from Trey’s grasp. With two hands, the much smaller kid shoved Trey in the chest, who didn’t even budge. Then the teenager turned and flew down a side alley. Trey gripped the back of his neck, turned, and punched a nearby brick wall. Charlotte cringed, worried for the state of his hand, but Trey just turned and made his way in the opposite direction, quickly disappearing out of frame.

  “Hey, you got my sound bite?” Mira appeared in the doorway, pulling her suit jacket on over her blouse.

  Charlotte snapped back to attention. “Just grabbing it now.” Thankfully, the Chief had just started answering a question about the safety of Pittsburgh if there wasn’t enough money to pay firefighters. She quickly typed every word into the script open on her tablet, saved it and headed to the bathroom where she knew Mira would be putting her makeup on.

  “Bites in, script is printed.”

  “Thanks. You are a life saver.” Mira swiped mascara on her eyelashes, leaning in close to the mirror. Her eyes darted to Charlotte hovering just behind her shoulder. “Something else wrong?”

  “Did you see Trey at the scene of the fire today?” Fingers trembling at her sides, Charlotte fisted them to stop the tremors.

  “Of course not, this was way outside zone seven. And they didn’t call in any additional man power, so there would be no reason for him to be there.” Mira stopped what she was doing and turned back to face Charlotte. “Why, is everything okay? Things have been good since you got back together, right?”

  With a shake of her head, Charlotte stared at the floor. “He’s hiding something from me. Something about the fires. I don’t know if he’s holding back because he doesn’t trust me to report on it, or because he’s involved somehow, but it’s been a barrier between us. This morning was the first time we’d, you know…” She raised her eyebrows, praying Mira wouldn’t make her spell things out. “Since we reconnected. He said he loves me.”

  “Wow. What did you say?”

  “Nothing. I can’t take that step until I know what he’s holding back. I thought it was something about an ex that showed up at his parent’s house during the cookout, but I swear I just saw him in the background of your video fighting with someone. Now I’m thinking this is altogether much worse.”

  At that moment, an intern stuck her head in the bathroom door and shouted they had five minutes to air.

  “Fudge.” Mira turned back to the mirror and rushed through the rest of her preparations. “After my hit, I want you to show me the video. Then we’ll come up with a plan of attack for confronting Trey. Because you’re right. You can’t go any deeper into this thing with until you know what he’s holding back.”

  Mira shoved her things back into the locker assigned to her, and turned once more to Charlotte. “We’ll figure it out. Don’t worry. We’re journalists, dammit. If we can’t figure out this puzzle, no one can.”

  With a wink, Mira headed out to the studio, leaving Charlotte to stand in the bathroom, dread pouring through her. Maybe she didn't want to figure it out. Because something deep in her gut told her the answers they found wouldn’t be something she could live with.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  At the end of the day, Charlotte’s various emotions churned together inside her gut until she couldn’t distinguish one from the other. The pride at having survived her first day as the assignment desk manager bled into the anxiety over Trey’s secrets. The desire to see him mixed with the fear of confronting him.

  Despite his assertion she should wait for him after work and they could go back to her place together, Charlotte decided she needed time alone. The past few weeks she’d come out of her shell, made friends, took chances, pushed through the fear. But deep in her soul, she would always be an introvert, no matter how many times she faked otherwise. Solitude cleared her mind, fed her soul.

  Normally, to be alone she would simply go home. But that is where Trey would go when he discovered she had left without him. Instead, she headed to a small cafe she’d never been to before. She passed it everyday on her way into work and often
thought she’d like to check it out. It was all mismatched tables and chairs, chipped tea cups and old street signs. There weren’t any fancy coffee flavors, but shelves upon shelves of loose tea in every variety lined the mirrored wall behind the counter. Cases boasted vegan, allergen free pastries, and the artfully bored college kid running the register reassured her that no one would bother her with fake small chat.

  Charlotte ordered a pot of mint tea, and sat in the back corner furthest away from the door and windows. For an hour, she simply sat and thought. No computer, no phone, just went over everything in her head. Wrote down a few notes about odd behaviors Trey had exhibited. Theories as to what could be going on. In the end, she knew the only way to find the answers were to stop asking for them, and instead demand.

  Feeling at once recharged and still anxious, Charlotte got back in her car and drove to her apartment. Her phone had a dozen missed calls, and twice as many texts from Trey. She ignored them all, knowing he would be waiting outside her door.

  As she pulled up to her apartment building, Trey leapt from his SUV and sprinted to her door. Before she could even shut the engine off, her door was open, and Trey’s strong hands were checking her over, though what he could be looking for she hadn’t a clue.

  “Trey, what is going on? What are you doing?” Charlotte batted his hands away, ignoring the rush of hormones his touch never failed to induce.

  He backed away, pacing in a wide circle with his hands on top of his head, and his face pointed to the now darkening sky. “You weren’t at the station. Didn’t answer my calls or messages. I thought something had happened.”

  Frustration pushed everything else inside her aside. The ever-present anxiety that shimmered beneath the surface forgotten in favor of anger. Something she had never really indulged in.

  “I need answers, Trey. Now. I’m not waiting anymore. I’ve been patient. I’ve tried to understand and to not be too clingy. But you’ve been like a constant shadow the past week. Before that you disappeared. I may not have as much as experience at relationships at you, but I know what you’ve been doing here, jerking me around, is not okay.” Charlotte wished the temperature outside was colder, below freezing, so she could she the puffs of air forced from her lungs at her tirade. Some physical, visible proof that she did have a backbone, and there was no faking it.

  “Sugar, let’s go inside.” Trey tried to place his hand on the base of her spine, to guide her inside, but she pushed his hand away. “Please.”

  “We are going inside, and you are going to tell me everything.”

  Pivoting on her heel, she stomped into the apartment building, climbed the stairs, and stormed into her apartment. She needed something to do with her hands. Something other than the rising tide of anger in her chest to focus on. Weasley weaved between her feet, and she bent over to scoop the cat up. With a swipe of her hands, she gathered his food and water bowls and scrubbed them out, all the time feeling more than hearing Trey enter behind her, close the door, and stare at her from the other side of the kitchen counter.

  “I saw you today.” The words popped out before she knew she would say them.

  “Where?” True confusion laced Trey’ voice. He obviously had no idea what to do with this version of her. Well he could join the club.

  The cat’s bowls sparkled in a way they hadn’t since she brought the ornery feline home. Dumping them back on the floor next to a confused looking Weasley, Charlotte grabbed his kibble and the ground beef she’d made for him the night before, stirring together his nightly meal.

  “At work. On video. You were yelling at a teenage boy. I couldn’t hear what you were saying, but the look on your face.” Task down, Charlotte finally allowed herself to turn and face Trey head on. She wasn’t sure what she had expected when she looked at him, but it wasn’t absolute terror. “If you had looked at me like that while tearing me a new one, I would have been cowering in a corner. Why were you talking to a kid that way?”

  The only sound in the apartment were the pleasured grunts of Weasley’s eating, totally oblivious to the drama unfolding during his dinner.

  “You aren’t going to say anything? That fire was well out of your zone, and they didn’t call in backup. Why were you even there?”

  No answer. Instead, Trey crossed the apartment and slumped onto her couch, face cradled in his hands. Twin desires rose up in her, and she stood frozen in the archway separating the kitchen from the living room debating which to go with.

  One half of her desperately wanted to comfort the man she had grown to care so much about. He obviously held an enormous weight on his shoulders, and she wanted to relieve him of some of that burden.

  The other half wanted to slap him upside the head. To yell and scream and push like she had never down before in her life. She’d never fought for anything of her own. Instead accepting whatever had been given to her. But this man was worth fighting for, even if she was fighting the man himself.

  In the end, self-preservation won out. “I think you need to leave, Trey. It’s obvious you aren’t going to tell me what’s going on, and I can’t allow myself to be… kept in the dark. I’ve spent too much of my life thinking I didn’t deserve things like respect, honesty, affection. But you helped me see otherwise. You and my friends. I’m not going to sit here and pretend nothing is going on when I damn well know it is. I saw proof with my own eyes. Just you tell me what it is that I saw so my mind can stop with the jumping to conclusions.”

  Once more, he stayed silent. A single tear rolled down her cheek, knowing that they stood on the precipice of something. It could be a beginning, or it could be the end. Trey just had to make up his mind which way he would go.

  Just as she was about to turn and head back to her bedroom to change, Trey whispered something beneath his breath.

  “What?”

  Trey looked up, the white of his eyes now run through with red veins, his usually warm brown eyes tortured. Imprints of his teeth lined his bottom lip. “I said it’s all my fault. The fires. I’m the reason behind them. Well, part of the reason at least.”

  Confused, Charlotte crossed to him, settling on her knees before him. She gave him no choice but to look her in the eye as the story came spilling out.

  “I told you my parents took in foster kids when I was a teenager. There were a lot of kids that came through our house. Some for short stays, others longer. There were some rough cases in the bunch. The system isn’t always pretty, even though the majority of people really do just want to help.”

  He leaned back, his eyes pointed at her, but not seeing her. “The last kid my parents took in was a twelve-year-old girl. She’d been in and out of the system. Her parents in and out of jail along with most of the rest of her family. We knew she’d been through some horrific things, though I never learned the details.

  “I was nineteen at the time. Had just finished my first year of college, and I came home to this skinny girl who had an easy smile that didn’t reach her eyes. For the first time, I felt uncomfortable around one of the kids my parents took in. I shook it off because she was seven years younger than me, and a quarter my size. Being afraid of her was ridiculous. My parents went out to visit a sick parish member one day, and I was home alone with Trudy. I’d been working the night shift at the emergency dispatch center and sleeping my days away. But I woke up to smoke in the house. Not a lot, not enough for it to be a true fire. Just enough that the air had the tinge of sulfur. I followed the smell and found her in my parents’ bathroom, sitting on the vanity, setting tissues on fire one after the other and dropping them in water. She was so focused on the act of burning the tissues she didn’t notice me at first.”

  Apparently unable to sit still, Trey stood, pacing back and forth in Charlotte’s small living room, hands alternating between gripping the back of his neck and shoved deep into his pockets.

  “I should have said something my parents right then. Should have told them I found her playing with fire. But she begged me not to. Said our
home had been the safest she felt since entering the foster care system. She promised to stop. But she didn’t. I kept finding evidence of small fires in the backyard. Scorched grass behind the shed. Piles of ash in the trashcans. Then I find a… Fuck.” Trey crouched down balancing on the balls of his feet with his face in his hands. His back curled higher as he took in a deep breath. Then, as he exhaled, his stricken face came up to look Charlotte in the eye for the first time since they got into the apartment. “I found a baby bird, or the remains of one. I confronted her about it, but she said it had already died when she found it. Wanted to know if burning it would smell the same as the chicken my mom made the night before for dinner. She said it like being curious about something like that was normal.”

  Charlotte’s stomach turned over, threatening to spill the tea she had guzzled in an effort to waste time all over the floor.

  “Trudy begged, begged, for me not to tell. To not get her sent back to a house where men looked at and touched her. I didn’t know what to do. So, I found a therapist who agreed to see her. I paid the bills from my dispatch center paychecks. Twice a week, every week, we told my parents we were going to volunteer or grab ice cream, but really, I took her to a therapist. And I thought it was working.

  “Until one night, she crawled into bed with me. I was passed out after working all night and didn’t wake up until I felt her press against me. She’d become affectionate with me, hugging me and wanting to hold my hand when we crossed the street. I just thought she was starting to trust me, look up to me.” A harsh scoff ripped through his lips, and the self-loathing written all over his face nearly broke Charlotte in two.

  “I thought she looked at me as a brother. But that night, she crawled into bed with me and tried to kiss me. She was twelve. That’s when I knew I had to go to my parents. I made her go back to her room, and I went to the church and told them everything. When we came back to the house, it was to find my room on fire. She’d thrown gasoline from the shed all over my bed. The fire crew got to it before the whole house went up.

 

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