by K. C. Lynn
“I’d listen to her,” Garth wheezes out. The threat in his voice is as pathetic as he is but I know he has the means to back it up. He could cause Austin a lot of grief if he wanted to.
The thought leaves my stomach in knots. “Please, Austin,” I plead, my voice barely above a whisper.
His eyes finally drop to mine, acknowledging me for only a second, but it’s a powerful one before he shifts his attention back to Garth. “Put your hands on her again and I’ll fucking kill you.”
His warning rings through the air with promise. He steps back but not before giving Garth one final shove. I follow him forward as he retreats then turn and face Garth. He massages his throat, his face beginning to lose the purple tinge.
“You aren’t welcome here anymore,” I tell him. “It’s time for you all to leave.”
He straightens, his expression hard as granite. He does not like rejection nor does he like his ego to take a beating, which is exactly what Austin just accomplished.
“There are far better places to drink than this dump anyway.” His foot meets one of the tipped over chairs, kicking it across the room. He passes by me, way too close for comfort, and the word bitch falls from his mouth in a mumble but it’s not quiet enough.
It puts Austin in motion but I manage to hold him back, my hand pressing on his strong chest once again. “He’s not worth it.”
Frank follows them out the door, making sure they leave the premises. Afterward, I blow out a shaky breath, taking in the mess of shattered glass and broken table.
“You all right, Zoey?” Cam asks.
I nod. “Yeah. Thanks.” My attention returns to Austin to thank him too but the words die in my throat when I see blood soaking his hand and dripping onto the floor. “You’re bleeding!”
He looks down at his wound, flexing his fingers. “It’s fine.”
It’s not “fine” and the pool of blood starting at his feet proves it. I grab the small white towel tucked in my apron and wrap it around his hand. “Come on, I have a first aid kit in the back.”
Cam, Jake, and Tara begin cleaning up the mess as I walk Austin into the kitchen, the door swinging closed behind us.
“Sit,” I order, pointing to a stool at the stainless steel island.
He complies while I grab the first aid kit, his eyes tracking my every move again. I feel it along my skin, dancing its way into my traitorous heart.
My gaze avoids his as I come to stand in front of him, pulling out what I need to clean and dress his injury. “Let me see,” I whisper, unwrapping the bloody towel from his hand.
There’s a large gash on his palm and several small cuts on his knuckles. Probably from knocking the glass out of Garth’s hand and shattering it.
My fingers tremble as I rip open the gauze and begin cleaning the small wounds; all the while I still feel his eyes on me.
The silence makes me nervous. “Thank you for stepping in and helping me,” I say gently. “It wasn’t necessary but I appreciate it.”
“I don’t like anyone touching you.”
The possessiveness in his tone has my eyes finally pulling to his. There’s so many emotions staring back at me, all the ones I’ve been harboring since our night together. One stands out amongst the others though—sadness, the day’s event clearly weighing heavily on him.
“I’m so sorry about Declan.”
My words deepen the pain in his eyes. He lets go of a heavy breath, dropping his forehead on my stomach. “It’s my fault,” he murmurs, guilt hanging in his voice.
I lift my hand, sifting my fingers through his hair to offer comfort. “Don’t say that.”
“It is. As his lieutenant it was my job to watch out for him. I told him not to enter but…” He trails off, unable to finish the sentence.
“I don’t have all the details but I’m sure Declan wouldn’t want you blaming yourself. You’re a good man, Austin. The best I’ve ever known.” I rub my hand up and down his back soothingly as he remains silent. “The service was really beautiful.”
His head lifts, shock registering on his face. “You were there?”
I nod.
“Why didn’t you come talk to me?”
I shrug. “I didn’t want to upset you further so I thought it would be best to stay in the back.”
“Why do you think it would have upset me?”
All these questions are steering the conversation in a direction I don’t want it to go but it’s time we have this discussion. It’s long overdue. “Because you’re angry with me.”
“Damn right I’m angry,” he says, hardening his tone. “You ran off on me in the middle of the fucking night and walked home on a deserted dirt road all alone.”
“I thought it would be easier that way.”
“Easier for who?”
I remain silent because we both know the answer. Maybe it makes me a coward but I couldn’t bring myself to say goodbye to him, walking away was hard enough. If I had to do it looking into those magnetic eyes, I don’t think I would have been able to.
His good hand moves to the side of my face, fingers grazing as he cups my cheek. “Zoey girl, look at me.”
I do as he says, tears burning the back of my eyes as I become locked in a gaze of longing with him.
His head dips, perfect lips moving for mine. My heart yearns for it, craves his kiss, but at the last second I turn my face, fighting the war within my heart.
“I’m sorry,” I choke out.
His forehead rests on my temple, jaw clenching in frustration. “I know you want this as much as I do. Why are you fighting it so much?”
“It’s not about what I want.”
“The hell it isn’t!”
I flinch at the anger in his voice. “Please try to understand.”
“Understand what, Zoey?” he asks, releasing the side of my face.
It leaves me feeling cold and disconnected.
“You don’t tell me anything. You don’t let me in, so how the hell am I supposed to understand?”
How do I explain it to him? How do I get him to understand that I’m the only person my sister has? To make him understand how horribly she suffers, that she needs all the spare time I have.
“Talk to me,” he pleads, his voice softer.
I peer back at him, wanting to confide, to cry on his shoulder and tell him how tired I am. How much I love my sister but her condition takes a toll on me. The horrible thought brings guilt rushing to the surface, slapping me in the face like a cold wet rag. I have no right to feel this way, just like I have no right to lay this burden on him.
“It’s complicated,” I tell him.
The disappointment in his eyes crushes my soul into tiny fragments. “Fine. Have it your way.” He pushes from the island, climbing to his feet.
“Austin, please,” I beg, voice clogged with my barely contained emotions.
He doesn’t turn around and I can’t blame him.
I jump at the sound of his fist slamming into the metal door as he storms out of the kitchen, his angry departure ripping through my tattered heart.
The rest of the night passes in a blur of heartache. I avoid Tara’s and Frank’s concerned glances and wait for the bar to die down before leaving them to close up since they so graciously offered. By the time I climb into my car, I’m exhausted, both emotionally and physically, and wish for bed. Instead, I drive to the hospital.
The moment I walk through the sliding doors, I feel sick, my stomach churning at the pungent smell of disinfectant. I hate that she’s here, hate that this is her home, but until I can afford us a house of our own and in-home care, this is where she needs to be.
I step onto the elevator, riding it up to the third floor. As I pass by the nurses’ station, I greet Dina, the head nurse in charge.
“Hey, Zoey, do you have a minute?”
Concern has me coming to a hard stop. The only reason she would want to speak with me is if something happened.
“Is everything okay?”
“It is now.”
My heart crawls into my throat as I wait for her to elaborate.
“She had another seizure today.”
“How bad?”
Her long pause has icy cold fear flowing through my veins. “The worst one yet.”
My eyes fall shut, defeat settling over me.
“She’s okay now. Sleeping peacefully. The doctor will come speak with you in the morning. He’s running more tests and wants to try her on a different medication.”
“Okay. Thanks, Dina.”
She puts a hand on my shoulder. “Hang in there, honey. Chrissy’s strong and she’s fighting.”
As much as I appreciate her support, I find no comfort in her words. Because the truth of the matter is, Chrissy isn’t strong and she hasn’t been for a long time. Her condition continues to deteriorate no matter what we do and it leaves me feeling so helpless.
I continue to her room and open the door as quietly as possible. The dim light over her bed is on, casting a white glow on her as she lies fast asleep. Her mouth is open and body turned at an odd angle due to her muscle dysfunction.
The click of the door closing stirs her from her peaceful slumber. Her eyes flutter open, a noise working its way up her throat.
I walk forward, passing by her wheelchair and sit at the edge of her bed. “Hey, Chrissy Bee.”
She stares up at me, a light entering her eyes that wasn’t there a moment ago. When she looks at me like this, it gives me hope and eases some of my pain.
“D-D-Doey.”
Happiness fills my chest to hear my name fall past her lips. She can’t always say it. “Sorry to wake you. I meant to slip in quietly.”
Her locked fingers grip mine in a strength that surprises me, her eyes conveying what she can’t speak.
I know exactly what that look means. “Want me to stay tonight?”
Tremors rack her body as she blinks her answer at me.
“Okay,” I whisper, trailing my finger down her soft cheek. Pulling my purse off my shoulder, I set it to the side and crawl in the bed behind her rather than sleep in the chair like I usually do. I have a feeling Chrissy needs me more than that tonight and if I’m being honest, I need her, too.
As I curl around my sister’s broken body, smelling the subtle scent of her shampoo, I finally let the tears I’ve been holding in fall. Every one that spills is a prayer for Chrissy, that we find a way for her to live the life she deserves.
Never straying far from my mind and heart is the man I long for every night, wishing I could feel his strong arms around me now to hold all my broken pieces together.
CHAPTER FOUR
Austin
There’s a grimness around the station that has never been present before. A heaviness and loss we all feel without Declan. It’s been hanging over us like a dark cloud, darkening the mood of every person that walks in.
Usually, I love being here, this firehouse is my second home, residing my second family but right now I’m thankful the shift is almost over. It’s been a long night with six calls, most of them car accidents. One that had a deceased mother and child that awaited us.
To finish off this clusterfuck of a night, we are now ending it by sitting in the conference room where Cap and Fire Investigator Roper go over the events of the warehouse explosion that took place. The entire house is here, right down to truck seventeen, my rescue squad, and paramedics.
They talk about what shouldn’t have happened and what could have been done but one fact remains, one vital piece, and Cap is completely blunt, voicing what none of us have said yet.
“Declan would have made a great firefighter but he let his ego and eagerness override his sense. That one drastic move caused the backdraft and could have ended the lives of the other firefighters he was with.”
It’s something I’ve thought about often, how lucky the three of us are to still be here. It makes me as angry as it does Cap but then guilt soon follows. As much as it was a reckless decision on Declan’s part, I can’t help but wonder if there was more I could have done. As his lieutenant it was my job to lead him, teach him, and protect him.
“I’ve said this before and I will say it again, nothing is a priority if the risk is too great. Nothing. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sir.” Our collective answers fill the room, following a short span of silence.
“Good. You’re dismissed. I’ll see you all next shift.”
Chairs scrape across the floor as everyone makes their exit.
“Hawke, Phillips, and Ryan,” Cap calls just as we are about to walk out the door, “a word.”
Jake, Cam, and I hold back, all of us exchanging a look.
Once the room is cleared, Roper closes the door, remaining with us.
Suspicion rears its ugly head. “What’s going on?” I ask, looking directly at Cap.
“There’s something you boys need to know before it goes public.” He nods toward Roper to finish that statement.
“What we originally thought was an electrical fire due to the building not being up to code isn’t the case. Traces of ethyl ether were found on scene.”
“Son of a bitch!” Jake seethes, the fury in his hard tone matching the one coiling beneath my skin.
Ethyl ether is a highly flammable accelerant and sometimes can be hard to trace. It’s bad enough to think of this as an unfortunate circumstance but now knowing it was intentional and cost Declan his life has a dark rage slipping over me.
“We’re launching a full investigation.”
“Suspects?” I ask.
“Not as of yet but that’s not something you need to worry about. That’s our job.”
Jake tenses next to me, Roper’s tone putting him on edge like the rest of us. Roper is an arrogant asshole, most of them over in arson are. They think they are better than the rest of us.
The truth is though, Jake’s father was the best arson investigator there was, solving more cases than any other lead investigator in his time. How ironic it was that the very thing he out smarted took his life.
Roper never liked Jake’s father, no doubt jealousy played a big role, which is why Jake was pissed as hell when the other man took over his father’s position in the department.
“Look, I know this has been particularly hard on you boys,” Cap says, breaking the tense silence. “As I said before, if you need more time…”
“I’m good,” Jake says, quickly rejecting the offer.
Cam and I nod in agreement. The last thing I need is time off to dwell over what can’t be changed, especially right now.
“Rest assured we will solve this and bring justice,” Roper says, straightening his shoulders. “Chief Ramsey deserves it.”
Remorse floods my veins as I think about how this must be affecting the chief. He’s been through hell this past year. Despite Declan’s reckless move, this bastard cost him his life. In my opinion there will never be any justice for that.
“Go home and get some rest,” Cap says, ending the conversation as he heads for the door. “I’ll see you boys tomorrow.”
Roper shoots us a parting nod before following him out of the room.
“Well that was a swift kick to the balls,” Cam rests back against the desk, his voice heavy with anger.
“I think Roper knows more than what he’s saying,” Jake says.
I have to agree, there was something in the other man’s eyes, a knowledge he didn’t share. Not that I’m surprised.
“Wanna speculate over breakfast?” Cam asks.
Jake shakes his head. “Can’t. I need to get home and make sure Charlie’s out of bed and on her way to school,” he grumbles, talking about his teenage sister. “The last thing I need is any more calls from that damn counselor.”
Charlie used to be so sweet and innocent but since the death of their parents and the aftermath of the fire she suffered with them, she’s the definition of a teenage nightmare, making Jake pull out his hair every chance she gets. I feel for the poor bas
tard.
Cam looks to me but I opt out as well, needing to make a stop before I head home, one I have been avoiding.
“Fine. Suit yourselves. I’ll just go get laid then and sleep the day away,” he says, pushing from the desk. “Later.”
“Later.”
The two walk out together while I head to the locker room. On my way, I run into Mikey, a special needs boy who has been coming to this station for as long as I have worked here.
Cap lets him hang out once or twice a week. He helps around the station by cleaning and closing the overhead doors when we leave for a call. He loves it as much as we love having him around. He’s a big part of our family, someone we all watch out for and respect.
“My man, Mikey.” I stop him in the hallway, clapping him on the shoulder.
“Hey, Ausdin.”
“Haven’t seen you since we got back from that last call. Thanks for holding down the fort while we were gone.”
His shoulders straighten, pride inflating his chest. “No problem.”
“You headed home?”
He nods. “My ride will be here soon.”
“Cool. I’ll see you next week then.”
“See ya.”
I continue down the hall, entering the locker room only to come to a quick stop when I find Rubin Marks going through Declan’s locker, mumbling to himself as he frantically searches for something.
“Hey.”
He spins around, startled. “Lieutenant, I thought you left.”
“I was just about to,” I pause, assessing the rookie with narrowed eyes. “Everything okay?”
He clears his throat. “Yeah, fine.”
My gaze shifts to the open locker he stands before. “What are you looking for?”
“Just something that I lent Declan last week.” His expression sobers, pain slipping over his face. “Wow, last week.” He drops down on the bench, shoulders slumping. “Hard to believe days ago he was here and now he’s not.”
I walk over and take a seat next to him. “It’s hard to accept, isn’t it?”
He nods. “Really hard.”
Declan’s death has been hard on us all but especially Rubin. They both graduated from the academy together and became really good friends in and out of this station.