by Jen Talty
“You never told anyone, did you?”
She shook her head.
It all made so much sense to him now. She had to blame someone else. She had to outwardly push her pain and suffering onto another person because deep down she truly believed that it was their child that caused Devon to risk his life in a way he knew to be deadly.
While Fletcher was no therapist, he’d been to enough to make an educated guess that Renee used the loss of her baby as some sort of torture of letting her late husband down. He lost his life trying to save hers.
And she couldn’t save their baby.
So, what does she do in return?
Blame Fletcher.
Made perfect sense to him.
But he also had to consider the fact that she could also be thinking that if she hadn’t told him, he would have never left her in the first place, and they all could have been saved together.
He held her gaze while she took another swig.
“I don’t know why I told you all that, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell my family.”
“Your secrets are safe with me.” He took the bottle and once again put a plug in it. “But I think you should tell them. I also believe your thought process is really screwed up. Devon was a firefighter. It was in his blood.”
“You’ve seen my brother’s scars.”
“They are hard to miss,” Fletcher admitted.
“I was on duty the day by brother was injured. I didn’t go running into that building without my equipment. I suited up. If it were just me, Devon wouldn’t have thought twice about letting you do your job.”
“Oh, I beg to differ.”
“You didn’t know him,” she repeated. “You didn’t know how important having a family was to him. How much he wanted that baby. More than I think I wanted it. I mean, we weren’t trying. It was totally unexpected, and I was honestly terrified, like I am when it comes to most relationship things.”
“Listen to me, Renee. You are not responsible for Devon’s death. Or your miscarriage any more than I’m responsible for my parents’ deaths.”
She cupped his cheek. “I heard about how they died. I’m sorry.”
“Survivor’s guilt is a tricky thing.” He curled his fingers around her wrist and kissed her palm. “Have you thought about how terrifying it might have been for him, pulling into that parking lot that night to see three crews already on-site and you not one of the guests huddled off to the side? That if he hadn’t left to go get some silly things that could have waited, he would have been inside with you and he would have been able to get his family outside safely? Because that’s what I’d be thinking, and I would have raced inside that building, and no one would have been able to stop me. No one.”
“I think about it every day. I dream about it. It never goes away. Had I held my ground, never getting back together with him, never allowing myself to really love him, none of this would have happened. I’m not cut out to be someone’s wife or a mother. I knew that. But I let him talk me into marrying him and look what happened.” Her eyes grew wide and filled with tears. A guttural groan filled the night air.
He tucked her to his chest and held her tight. “Let it all out,” he whispered. He had no idea why she would think this of herself, and it didn’t really matter. It’s what she believed, and until she changed the narrative, she would never be able to get past it, or at the very least, learn to live with it.
And if she was going to have any kind of a life, she had to do the latter.
He knew that from experience.
3
Renee never liked New York City. Besides not enjoying the crowds, she couldn’t imagine living in a high-rise and having no yard and very little nature. Never mind the hustle and bustle. A fast-paced life wasn’t something she could handle. She got enough of an adrenaline kick from work; she didn’t need it in her everyday life. No. She’d rather kick up her feet with a glass of honey whiskey, neat, and watch the boats zip up and down the lake in the privacy of her own front yard.
She tossed her bag on the chair by the window in the tiny room with a view of another building not far from the Javits Center. The ride down had been uneventful, and Fletcher had been a perfect gentleman by not bringing up her drunken cry fest from the night before.
Nor did he demand to continue the conversation, thankfully. She’d exposed too much of her life to him as it was, and she hadn’t planned on doing it a second time.
Although, she had to admit, a small weight had been lifted. There was still a fair amount of tension swirling between her and Fletcher, and while she didn’t blame him anymore for Devon’s death.
She owned that.
But Fletcher was still reckless, and he broke at least five protocols chasing Devon into that building. Fletcher could have gotten himself killed, and he could have put other firefighters at risk if they had to come in after him, something that she doubted he ever considered.
Men like him thought they were invincible.
Quickly, she changed out of her fire T-shirt and pants and into a pair of jeans and loose tank. She only agreed to dinner with Fletcher because the idea of eating alone in the city had to be the most depressing thing ever. Besides, she couldn’t believe he’d never been to the Big Apple before.
She ran a brush through her hair, plumped her cheeks, and added a little color to her lips. Pulling open her door, she gasped.
He stood there with his fist raised, ready to knock.
“You scared me,” she said.
“Sorry.” He held out his elbow. “So, where are we going?”
She slipped her fingers around his biceps. “A little Italian restaurant walking distance from here. They make the best personal pizzas ever.”
“I’m down with that.” He guided her into the elevator. “I was impressed with you today.”
“You weren’t so bad yourself,” she said. “But my brother did put together a fantastic presentation, so we didn’t have to do much.”
“That is true, and the rest of this damn thing will be manning the booth. Have you ever done one of these before?”
“Not on this side of things,” she said. “But I’ve attended and took workshops four or five times.”
“Well, if there is something you want to go to, just let me know. We don’t both always have to be at the booth.”
As soon as the doors swung open, she took her crossbody purse and lifted it over her head, securing it on her shoulder. She took the lead, heading out of the hotel and north on 10th Avenue. It would take them about fifteen minutes to navigate through the streets to the restaurant. It was after seven, so they could have to wait a bit for a table, or they could get a pizza to go and take it to Hell’s Kitchen Park. That sounded like the better idea.
“Can I ask you a question?” She fiddled with her purse.
“Sure.”
“Why Station House 29? There are a lot of houses close to your grandmother’s.”
“If you think it’s because of what happened to Devon, you’re wrong.”
“Oh. I know. You applied before Devon died.” Her pulse pounded in her ears. She desperately tied to reach into her soul and find the anger and rage she’d been holding on to. She didn’t like feeling this comfortable with Fletcher. It was one thing to feel as though she could get through a shift without wanting to kill him, but it was quite something else to actually like the man.
That was unacceptable.
“Did you ever hear of or know a guy by the name of Castle Morning?”
“He’s a legend,” she said. “He worked with my mom back in the day, and according to my dad, she picked him over Castle. How do you know him? He left the area years ago…oh.” Castle had found a Southern belle and moved to Texas where he saved a teenage boy from the ruble after a tornado destroyed his home and killed his parents, who happened to be originally from Lake George. “I can’t believe I hadn’t put that together.”
“Castle is the reason I became a firefighter. I even worked wit
h him in Austin. I wanted to work at the house he got his start in. It seemed like a good way to pay homage to him, myself, and my parents.”
“I met him when I was little. He came to the house right before he moved to Austin. I think I was maybe six or seven. He was hysterical.”
“Quite the jokester, that one,” Fletcher said. “He always said the people at the 29 would always be his first family.”
“He still sends my folks a ham every Thanksgiving,” she said, tapping at her chest. The men and women of 29 weren’t unique. Most houses were a special blend of individuals that made up the kind of family that most people looked for their entire lives. It was a closeness that couldn’t be explained and generally only shared by those in similar professions like the military.
However, there were some that just didn’t fit in, like Fletcher. While he clicked with many of her co-workers, he had that thing that tickled the back of her soul and threatened her…what the hell? That was a fucked-up thought. He didn’t threaten anything about her psyche. He was just dangerous on the job.
That’s all.
“He’s a good man, that’s for sure.”
She stopped in front of a restaurant. “This is it,” she said. “I suggest we order it to go and we can sit in the park. It’s a nice night.”
“Works for me. What do you want?”
“Cheese and pepperoni.”
“Perfect. Shall I just get a medium to split?”
“Go for it,” she said. “I’ll wait out here, if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.”
She leaned against a lamppost and folded her arms across her middle. Ever since she’d climbed inside Devon’s truck and found the bag of baby clothes, which had been tucked up under a blanket, she chose to fixate her anger on the man who actually saved her life.
Fletcher.
Had it not been for him, she would have died in that bed, and the reality was right after she lost the baby, she’d wished she’d burned that night.
She’d already suffered from smoke inhalation, which is why she never woke up, and she’d gotten the concussion when a beam came down on top of her and Fletcher.
As soon as Fletcher handed her off to a medic, he raced back in and found Devon because firefighters try like hell not to leave their own behind.
But Fletcher shouldn’t have gone back in, something he’d been cited for and something that tainted his reputation. She’d done a little poking around, and Fletcher did that often, and it caused conflict in every station house he’d worked in, though not enough for any captain he’d ever had not to give him a glowing evaluation.
However, that didn’t mean his co-workers felt the same way.
So many scenarios played in her head. Like if Fletcher had found Devon first, but then would they have been able to get to her and if not, Devon would have been devastated for the loss of his child.
She rubbed her temples. This was why she never wanted to love anyone. This was exactly one of many reasons she broke off her affairs before she became too attached. Love hurt. Maybe not for everyone, but whenever she fell in love, the object of her affection ended up six feet under.
It started with her very first boyfriend when she’d been in middle school. He’d only been her boyfriend for all of three days, but she knew he was the one. Well, she was thirteen. But in her heart of hearts back then, she loved him.
She wouldn’t have thought it was a pattern, except she had one boyfriend die before she graduated from high school and another one her freshman year in college. That was the end of her falling in love.
As long as she didn’t love them, they lived.
As long as she dumped them before things got to heated, they lived.
But she let Devon let her believe he was different.
And now Fletcher had done what no one else had been able to do, and she resented the hell out of him for it, but at the same time, was insanely grateful.
Every thought and every feeling that muddled about in her brain and heart conflicted with each other, and the more she thought about it, the crazier it got.
“Earth to Renee?”
She jumped. “Jesus, you scared me.” She smoothed down the front of her jeans, trying to avoid his sparkling blue eyes.
“I called to you twice.” He pressed his hand against her back.
She jerked away.
He cocked a brow.
“Sorry. My mind went into a dark place, and I’m just on edge.”
“It’s okay. You’re allowed.”
“I’ve got another question for you,” she said.
“Oh, geez, that sounds serious. Can it wait until we are sitting down?”
“Sure.” She led him into the park and found a picnic table. Sitting on the bench, she watched as he set up with the paper plates, napkins, and a couple of sodas. She waited patiently until after he served up a couple of slices and they each had a chance to savor a few tasty bites.
She wiped her fingers and sucked in a deep breath. “You’ve bounced around stations a lot. Why?”
“Wow. Have you been checking around on me?”
“A little bit,” she admitted. “You broke a lot of procedures the night Devon died. I’ve seen you break procedures during calls since you’ve been at the 29. And the other day, you defied me in front of our team and another crew, which is highly disrespectful.”
He waved his finger under her nose. “I honestly didn’t defy you, but you were letting your misplaced rage toward me cloud your judgment.”
She gritted her teeth. He was right, but she didn’t want to say that out loud. She’d made too many confessions to him already. “Not the point. Cade put me in charge, and you could have handled that situation differently.”
“I’ll give you that.” He tossed a section of crust back in the box. “Why are we talking about this? I thought we cleared the air.”
“We did when it comes to Devon and what happened the night he died.” She inhaled sharply. The center of her chest hurt with the deep breath. “I know you didn’t let him into the hotel, but that doesn’t mean I’ve changed my mind about how dangerous you are on the job.”
“I resent that statement. I might often think outside the box and bend a few procedures, but aren’t we taught to do that in order save lives?”
“Not if it might cost them in the process,” she said. “And you’re avoiding my original question.”
“Well, I started out working with Castle. When he retired, I transferred across town. I’ll admit to butting heads with my captain, and I put in for another transfer. Then I met my wife.”
“You’re married?”
“Divorced.”
“Sorry.” She had no idea. No one ever mentioned that juicy little piece of information.
“Don’t be. I’m not. At least not anymore,” he said. “Anyway, she wanted to move closer to her family. Since my parents had passed, I was happy to give that to her, and we moved to Dallas. I worked at two different stations there. The first one was always temporary. I was working swing shifts. The second one I loved. But then my wife decided to have an affair, and I went back to Austin.” He leaned forward. “Now you can say sorry.”
“That fucking sucks.”
“No shit,” he said. “I stayed at that station until my grandma had a heart attack, and that’s when I decided to move to Lake George, and you know my history here.”
“Two stations in Saratoga.”
Fletcher arched a brow. “At the same time. I did swing shifts for both until one offered me a full-time job, which I took until Cade offered what I really wanted.”
“Why do you find the need to break protocol and defy your superiors?”
He shook his head. “I don’t, but sometimes the system doesn’t account for every possible thing, and we have to improvise, which I’ve seen you do.”
“Never at the risk of human life.” She leaned forward. “Including my own. You have a death wish, and that bothers me.”
“Not even close.�
�� He closed the lid on the pizza. “What we do is dangerous, and it’s possible I could die on the job. I’m not afraid of that. I don’t want it to happen, but it’s possible. And because I don’t let fear rule my life, maybe I take a greater risk with my own life to save someone else’s.” He stood, pressing his hands on the table. He leaned over. His face only scant inches from hers. “It’s kind of what I get paid to do.”
She opened her mouth, but quickly snapped her jaw shut. He had a point in the sense they risked their lives to help others and they did so without question and without reservation.
Only, she expected the person she worked side by side with to have her back one hundred percent.
She wasn’t sure she could count on Fletcher.
Fletcher did his best to keep his tone calm and keep his language gentlemanly. Renee just wasn’t going to cut him any slack. They might have made headway with her blame game, but he had no idea how to change her mind about what kind of man or firefighter he really was, and that just got under his skin.
In any other station he’d worked at, he never really cared all that much about what people thought of him, as long as they respected him and his ability.
But mostly, they needed to trust him, and she didn’t, on any level.
He tossed the empty pizza box in the trash and stuffed his hands in his pockets as they strolled out of the park, heading back toward the hotel.
He had no idea what else he could say to her that would put him in a different light. So, perhaps it was best if he just stopped talking.
“You do see how you have a chip on your shoulder, right?” she asked.
“It’s because you’re putting me on the defensive, and I don’t like that.”
“We’re going to be on the same rotation, in the same ambulance; I want to know who I’m working with.”
“But you’re basing your opinion of half-truths or a twisted sense of what you think is the truth and the fact that I’m different from you, and that’s not fair.”
“You just told me you’re not afraid to die. That’s reckless.”
He laughed, stopping in front of a convenience store. “You don’t trust me.”