Off Chance

by Sawyer Bennett

  Off Chance

  Copyright (c) 2013 Big Dog Books, LLC

  All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this book can be reproduced in any form or by electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without the express written permission of the author. The only exception is by a reviewer who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  Cover Design by Vitalink

  Interior Design by Novel Ninjutsu

  Find Sawyer on the web!

  www.sawyerbennett.com

  www.twitter.com/bennettbooks

  www.facebook.com/bennettbooks

  Two people in particular deserve the largest of shout outs, for they helped me make this book authentic in my research. First, Kizzy Williams, who has been a beta reader of mine from the beginning and my favorite, New Yorker and Brooklyn babe! She made sure I was authentic, even if I did have to take a little bit of license with some of the settings. Love you lots girl!

  Next to my hometown Jacksonville buddy, Tim Davis. He is a firefighter for the City of Raleigh and a real life hero. He gave freely of his time to go over my manuscript with me and provided a ton of great material from which I could borrow and help add to the realism of what it takes to serve. I owe you sushi for life, my friend. And I'll never forget, "Two go in, two come out"!

  A huge thank you to my cover model, Derrick Vargo. You are just spectacular and I'm so thankful you were involved in this project with me. I hope we can work together again in the future.

  Finally, I want to just thank all of my fans, especially those of you I have come to know through Facebook and Twitter. The best part of every day for me is when I can interact with you. You make this job so fulfilling and worthwhile. I am forever grateful.

  Now... I'm off to write another book. It won't be the Off Series, and although I said this was my last one, I think it is safe to say you all will see another one in the future. I've heard from too many of you asking me to keep writing them that I just can't ignore.

  Love,

  Sawyer

  8 years ago

  I glance down at my watch.

  11:50 PM.

  In about ten minutes, I'm going to see Marney. In about twenty minutes, I'm going to be buried deep inside of her. My horny, eighteen-year-old body starts to get a boner just thinking about it.

  Marney and I have been dating for just over six months but we had sex for the first time very recently.

  Five days ago to be exact.

  That's one-hundred and twenty long hours or seven-thousand, two hundred excruciating minutes.

  We haven't been able to see each other the last few days between school events and work. She's on our high school soccer team and I play baseball. When we're not working our part-time jobs, we have our studies, and although we are just weeks away from graduation, we are both competitive and strive for good grades.

  That's a lot of shit we both have going on, which means our time together has been limited. And that's pretty fucked up in my opinion, because sex with Marney really should be a priority in my life.

  Damn... I love my girl!

  She is everything a guy could ever want. She's drop-dead gorgeous, smart as shit, and funny as hell. We hadn't been going out barely three weeks and I knew I was in love with her. I was too chicken shit to say anything, but luckily for me, Marney confessed she loved me first, at just the five-week mark in our relationship, and then I was able to reciprocate.

  Even though love hit us kind of fast, we took our time with sex. Which is strange, now that I think about it, because neither one of us were virgins. Marney had been dating our high school quarterback, Sam Faber, since the ninth grade, but they had broken it off at the end of our junior year.

  Lucky for me!

  And while I hate to think about Marney having sex with Sam, I'm grateful I didn't have to worry about deflowering a virgin. I mean, that's a lot of pressure on a dude. I'd been around the block a time or two, so even though I certainly had the ability to eradicate the V-card, I was still glad I didn't have to.

  It made that first time together freakin' fantastic. There was no fumbling around or uncertainties between us. We chose our six-month anniversary to have sex for the first time and it was mind blowing. It was exactly how I'd imagined it would be... soft, slow, and shattering. I'd gotten us a hotel room for the night and, armed with a box of condoms, both of us left starry-eyed and sore the next day.

  We made plans to sneak out and meet up tonight. Marney lives just two blocks east of me and I'm going to her house to get her. I know just the place to take her. There's a quiet spot in the woods that border Griffith Park and it's perfect because it's an unusually warm spring night. I pilfered a bottle of wine from my parents' liquor cabinet as a surprise and I hope to spend most of the time making love to my girl under the stars. Glancing at my watch again, I note the time.

  11:55 PM.

  Time to rock and roll.

  Bending over, I grab my backpack, which has a blanket and the wine... oh, and condoms. Just as I turn for the bedroom door, the piercing wail of a siren slams into my brain. I walk to the window and pull the curtain back, catching a glimpse of a fire truck as it barrels down the road right in front of our house.

  I hope to God the sound doesn't wake my parents up and ruin my escape plan. Just as I start to turn away from the window, an orange glow catches my eye.

  Right over the rooftops of the houses across the street... just east of here.

  My brain doesn't process what I'm seeing at first, but then I realize the glow is from a fire, and it looks to be pretty big. Now I know where the fire truck is going.

  I turn away from the window but then a shiver runs up my spine, warning me that something is wrong. Turning back again slowly, I look back at the fire.

  Just east of here.

  Oh God!

  Marney lives just east of here and my stomach bottoms out as I realize that glow is coming from somewhere in the vicinity of her house.

  I pull my cell phone out of my pocket and hit Marney's number. It rings four times before going to voice mail. There's no fucking way she wouldn't answer.

  Dropping my backpack, I sprint for my bedroom door, throwing it open so hard it slams against the wall with a resounding crack, knocking my signed photograph of Martin Brodeur to the floor, where it shatters. Adrenaline pumps through me as I take the stairs three at a time. I vaguely hear my dad calling out, "What the hell was that?" but I'm out the front door and tearing down the street.

  I would normally go down Pine, then turn east onto Glenford Street until I hit Macon to get to Marney's but fuck that... I don't have time. Angling through Mrs. Capistrano's yard, I scrabble over her chain-link fence, only to take three sprinting strides in her small backyard, and do the same to get over the back part of the enclosure.

  Dodging and weaving through the next block of yards, I run out onto Macon Street and come to a dead stop.

  Marney's house is just two doors down and my knees almost buckle underneath me when I see it. Flames leap out of the downstairs windows and thick, white smoke pours out from under the eaves. Four large fire trucks are parked outside of her house, two with ladders already extended with water raining down onto the top floor. The rest of the street is filled with police cars and two ambulances. My hesitation lasts only a second before I start running.

  Running toward Marney.

  I push my way through a sizable crowd, which has filled the streets, knocking people roughly out of my way. I think I even knock a lady over but I could give a s
hit. Careening around one of the fire trucks, I'm almost knocked backward by the wave of heat that is pouring off her house. With a huge boom, the upstairs windows explode outward, raining glass all around. Huge tongues of flame are now waving from every window but I don't stop. In fact, I kick my speed up a notch.

  I'm just steps away from the front porch, holding my arm up to ward off the heat. I can't even fathom how I'm going to get inside with the fire pouring out the front door, but that doesn't slow my progress.

  Almost there... three feet from the first porch step and then... I'm tackled from the side.

  My body slams into the ground and the air is knocked completely out of me. I try to take in a breath, but my lungs aren't working. Fuck it... I don't need them to get to Marney. I start struggling with the lead weight that is on top of me, vaguely noticing that it appears to be a fireman.

  Pushing hard against him, I try to get my legs up so I can kick him off me. I make another attempt to breathe but my lungs still aren't cooperating.

  Pulling on the last vestiges of air I have left in me, I rasp, "Get the fuck off."

  "All right, kid... calm down," I hear and then the weight is gone.

  I suck in a huge lungful of oxygen. Replenished, I spring to my feet and start to make a dash for the porch but arms of fucking steel wrap around my waist, slinging me away from the house. I stumble for a few feet and then right myself.

  Spinning around, the fireman is standing between Marney's house and me with his arms held out in front of him. "You can't go in there, kid."

  "The fuck I can't," I scream at him. "My girlfriend is in there."

  "I'm sorry..." he starts to say but I don't have time for this shit.

  Lunging for the house, I try to juke around the fireman but my skills must be rusty. He easily catches me again, wrapping me in a bear hug that I cannot break free from.

  My body strains toward the house, the blazing heat causing rivulets of sweat to pour from my face.

  "Marney," I scream. My eyes frantically search the windows, hoping to see her somehow through the angry flames and billowing smoke.

  I try to lunge toward the house, time and time again, but the firefighter isn't letting me go. I scream Marney's name, over and over, until my throat feels like it's riddled with glass shards.

  "She's gone, kid. No one made it out."

  The minute his words penetrate my brain, my body goes still. I can feel his hold start to marginally relax but he doesn't let go just yet.

  "Gone?" I whisper.

  "Yes. The house was fully involved by the time we got here. There was no way to get anyone out."

  The fireman's arms fall away from my body and he takes a small step back. His body is still tense though and he's just waiting for me to spring into action again.

  My eyes flick to the inferno and then back to him. "Are you sure?"

  The pleading tone in my voice causes him to wince but he nods his head.

  My knees finally give out, and I sag to the ground. Bowing my head, I clutch desperately at the grass in Marney's front yard.

  No, no, no, no, no.

  This isn't happening.

  Marney isn't in there. There's no way she died that way. The thought of Marney's burning body causes bile to rise up in my throat.

  I look up to the fireman, who is still standing there. The raging fire behind him causes his body to be nothing more than a dark silhouette... a man without a face.

  "Are you okay, kid?"

  Shaking my head, I whisper, "I can't bear to think of the pain she was in..."

  The faceless man kneels down in front of me and lays a hand on my shoulder. He squeezes it gently. "She was probably long gone from smoke inhalation before the fire reached her. Okay? She probably didn't feel a thing."

  I know his words are meant to comfort me but the balmy effect falls flat. My eyes fill with tears and I look back down to the ground.

  There's no reason she should have died that way.

  The firemen should have tried to push their way in.

  They should have sent five trucks instead of four.

  They should have gotten here faster.

  I should have gotten here faster.

  I should have arranged for an earlier time to meet. If I had, Marney would have been out of the house, safe in my arms.

  I could have saved her and I didn't.

  The hard reality of my failure sets in, and the tears start spilling from my eyes. It's the first time I've cried since I was a little kid. I let them flow, not giving a shit what the fireman thinks, or what anyone thinks for that matter. I watch as my tears fall from my face and hit the green blades of spring grass before me.

  "Flynn!"

  I turn and see my mom and dad running for me. The fireman stands up and walks away, and then I'm in my parents' arms.

  "I'm so sorry, baby," my mom murmurs as she strokes the tears from my face. Fresh ones replace them and I can see through the wavering haze that my mom is crying, too.

  My dad's arms engulf both of us and I rest my chin on my mom's head.

  I gaze over my dad's shoulder and watch my Marney burn away.

  "Goddamn it, Caldwell. Get your ass in my office. Now!"

  I wince over hearing the Battalion Chief calling from the back of the station house. His voice is booming, echoing from deep inside that barrel chest of his. Studying the cards in my hand... pair of deuces, Ace high... it's best I fold anyway.

  Tossing the cards facedown on the table, I stand up. "I'm out."

  My buddies, my co-workers, my compatriots... they all keep their eyes pinned to their cards so they don't have to offer me a sympathetic look. They've heard me called into the Chief's office on more than one occasion and I know they feel for me.

  But they're also probably a little glad I'm getting ready to get my ass chewed, because my dumbass moves affect them as well.

  Walking out of the kitchen, I turn down the back hall, which houses our bunks. The Chief's office is at the very end. As I walk past the open doorway to the sleeping quarters, I hear, "When in the hell are you going to learn, Flynn?"

  The room is dark but I don't need to see inside to recognize the voice of my best friend, Tim Davis.

  Taking a step back, I lean up against the doorframe and reach my hand inside to flick on the light. Tim is lying on his bed, his hands clasped behind his head. His dark brown eyes look at me with a mixture of affection and annoyance.

  I decide to play stupid, just to ramp up his annoyance. "Learn what?"

  Tim rises up from the bed, swinging his legs to the side. Resting his elbows on his knees, he clasps his hands and sighs deep before turning his gaze back on me. "You know what, but I'll lay it out for you... when are you going to stop taking stupid risks?"

  "Define stupid?" I ask, even though I know the answer. I just don't feel like hearing this shit from Tim, because I'm getting ready to hear an earful from the Chief.

  Tim looks back down to his hands and I hear him chuckle, but it's not a sound filled with mirth. Instead, it sounds hard and bitter. When he looks back up at me, there is no smile on his face and his eyes hold just a bit of disgust.

  I expect him to lay into me, but his voice is surprisingly soft. It stands at complete odds with his muscular and tattooed frame. "You know what I'm talking about so I won't bother stating the obvious. But the next time you put yourself in unnecessary danger, just remember our motto... two go in, two come out. You enter harm's way, you know one of us are coming in behind you. So yeah, I get that you don't care if you get injured or killed in a rescue... but you know you're risking our lives, too. You want that on your conscience if one of us gets killed?"

  Guilt flashes like a nuclear explosion through my body. "I wouldn't put you or any of the team in danger--"

  Tim cuts me off. "Save it. You already have, and on more than one occasion."

  His voice is hard, which is foreign to me. Tim is about as big of a teddy bear as you can find. He has an easygoing nature, which is why we bo
nded so well.

  "I'm sorry," is all I get out before I hear the Chief calling me again.

  "Caldwell! Where the fuck are you?"

  Taking a deep breath, I stare at Tim a moment longer and then turn my back on him. I can't stand that I've disappointed him. I could give a shit that the Chief is mad, but Tim? He's like a brother to me and I don't like letting him down. He needs to be able to trust me in any given situation, and to know that I've probably breached it has sent bitter acid swimming through my stomach.

  Steeling my resolve as I head to the Chief's office, I start to calculate the speech which will hopefully get me out of hot water. Unfortunately, nothing good is coming to mind. Fact is, I fucked up and didn't follow protocol. Yesterday when we responded to a structure fire, I didn't wait for the Captain to do a size-up. When I jumped off the truck, I barely had my Nomex hood and helmet on before I was running into the building. Tim was on my heels, cursing at me.

  I couldn't help it though. We were told there were occupants in the building--which there were--and I saw a safe entry point. Ultimately, I wasn't even in any danger, but I'm still going to get my ass chewed because I didn't wait the extra two minutes for the Captain to do the size-up.

  Just as I reach the Chief's office, but before I can knock, the speakers crackle and roar to life. A series of audible tones chime through, followed by a buzzer. The pager on my hip goes off but I don't bother looking at it because a voice comes over the speaker. "Engine 209, Engine 113, Squad 15, Ladder 102, Ladder 94, Rescue 12, Battalion Chief 1, Air truck 15. Major working fire--532 Pennsylvania Avenue. Residential. Multi-family house, duplex. Be advised Dispatch has received multiple calls."

  I turn from the Chief's door and head toward my bunk for my turnout gear. Easily slipping into my boots, I pull my trousers up, looping my arms through the suspenders. I slide my Nomex hood on and shrug into my coat, lacing my thumbs through the wrist gauntlets. After I have my coat zipped and velcroed tight, I push the hood back off my face so it hangs loosely around my neck. Grabbing my black helmet, the color of which signifies I'm a member of an engine company for the FDNY, I head toward the truck.

  Engine 209 is on the move.

  We are the first to arrive at the duplex but Ladder 94 pulls in seconds behind us. The Captain gets out to start his size-up, and I quickly don my self-contained breathing apparatus and face piece, pulling my hood over the top. I put my helmet on and pull the chin strap tight, my movements quick and efficient.