Burned

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Burned Page 11

by Unknown

*****

  Orlando popped the top off the beer and handed it to Nick. “So what’s up, man?”

  Nick took a long swig. “Nothing special.”

  “Really?”

  Nick raised a quizzical brow. “Yeah, really. What’s up with you?”

  Orlando shook his head. “We can go back and forth with this all day. You know damn well, what I’m talking about. What’s with the terms of endearment with Lincoln? Are you feeling her?”

  Nick swallowed down more of the beer, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I think I am. I tried, Orlando. I tried to keep my feelings out of this. She’s so damn vulnerable on the inside that it hurts me. I have this nagging in my head that I have to protect her.”

  Orlando slapped his hand across his forehead. “Nick, Nick, Nick…this was not supposed to happen. I asked you to look out for her, not make a move on her.”

  “I haven’t made a move on her.” Yet he said in his head. He drained the last of the beer from the bottle and tossed it in the recycle bin. “I’m speaking hypothetically, Orlando. Other than Ant hating me, there isn’t a damn thing he could do if I did pursue Lincoln.”

  Removing two trays from the fridge, Orlando put them on the kitchen counter. He uncovered the seasoned steaks to check them out before covering them with fresh plastic wrap. He wanted them to be at room temperature before grilling. He did the same with the skewers of cubed chicken and vegetables. “Nope, there isn’t,” he replied.

  “How would you feel if Lincoln and I did end up together? Would you hate me?” Nick asked taking a corn chip from the bowl on the counter and popping it in his mouth.

  “I wouldn’t have any resentment towards you if the love were real. If you are doing it to prove a point to Ant, then I would have a problem with it.”

  “He is not worth that effort, dude.” He watched as Orlando gathered ingredients to make a salad. “Toss me a bowl and a knife. I make a mean salad,” he said washing his hands.

  “Knock yourself out.” Orlando slid the ingredients to the other side of the counter. “Nick, you’re worried about what I think about you and Lincoln getting together, what would your father think? I don’t see Lincoln being welcomed with open arms.”

  Nick chopped through the onion. Each slice of the knife through the vegetable made his eyes water harder. Orlando’s mention of his father spoiled his good mood. “I don’t have shit to do with my old man and you know that.”

  “I know that. But you do visit your mother in Queens. He will be there if you decide to take Lincoln along.”

  He finished the onion and moved on to the carrots. He wasn’t a professional cook but knew his way around the kitchen. He came from a large Italian family. The Barona clan consisted of six children and a rocky marriage that lasted thirty-seven years so far.

  When the Barona’s migrated from New York, Nick was the youngest and raised in Cleveland. Although, he only walked the streets of New York until he was ten, he carried the heavy dialect his family possessed.

  Franco Barona was a retired firefighter and his mother, Isadora, quit her job as a school teacher to raise a family. The family moved to Cleveland with the dream to open an Italian restaurant. The restaurant competition in New York was stiff. In a city with less competition, Franco imagined his chance of success would be greater. He was wrong. The restaurant struggled to stay afloat from the day the doors opened. Franco closed the restaurant and returned to Queens to care for his ailing mother. With the rest of his siblings grown and on their own, Nick stayed after acceptance to the fire academy.

  Orlando, as well as everyone else at the firehouse, knew the relationship between Franco and Nick was strained. Franco was not exactly a father figure. He was not a nice person at all and was the main reason there was a divide in the Barona house. His sisters were scattered across New York. His brothers were in different states also. The whole clan only got together at Christmas for dinner and that was more for Isadora’s sake. Franco just happened to be there.

  Nick tossed the diced carrots in the bowl with the onions. “I’ll cross that bridge if it gets that far.”

  Orlando shook his head and worked with the slab of ribs in the sink. “Well, you have my blessing if you want to pursue her. But if you hurt her….”

  “Yada, yada, yada, I know; you’ll kick my white ass from here to Puerto Rico. I’ll keep what I feel for her under wraps but I don’t know if I’ll be able to totally stop them.”

  “It’s like you said, Nick, she is vulnerable and I’m sure she’s not over Ant. You have to give her time and not rush her.”

  Nick grinned. “She is getting there. When we first started hanging out, I was doing the calling. Now she is calling me to come over. Hell, she invited me here.”

  “Oh man, that is one triangle I’m glad not to be a part of. When Anthony gets wind of this, he will blow his freaking stack.”

  Nick raised his voice and said, “Fuck Ant! He doesn't care he screwed up Lincoln’s life. He finally has what he’s always talked about wanting, a kid with Melanie.”

  Orlando’s cell phone rang at the same time Nick’s went off. Nick wiped his hands and answered the phone. His skin crawled when he saw the number. Orlando’s face showed the same concern. It was the emergency number. The recording would require them to report to work on the double. A serious fire or another disaster had occurred and all firefighters, on duty or off, would be required to handle it.

  “Let’s roll,” Orlando said taking off the apron.

  They entered the backyard where the women were. “Hey, baby, we got a call, Nick and I have to report to the firehouse,” Orlando said.

  Regan’s eyes widened. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know but it’s serious. The food is ready to go on the grill. I’ll call you when I get a chance.” He kissed Regan and motioned for Nick and said, “Come on, Nick.”

  Nick stopped, turned back and saw the worry on Lincoln’s face. Men with dangerous jobs took those looks seriously. Returning from a job unscathed was not a guarantee, and a last look shared could be the last. He went over to her. “Hey, don’t look like that. We’re supermen remember,” he said with a smile.

  “I’m not worried.” On impulse, Lincoln stood on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his.

  He melted from the quick peck of the kiss. He tore away from her gaze after Orlando’s final order for him to get moving. “I’ll call you as soon as I can.”

  *****

  Lincoln marveled at Regan’s strength. Regan finished the cooking, mingled with the guests, and never showed any worry about Orlando’s safety. She, on the other hand, was a ball of nerves. Every chance she got, she checked for updates on her cell phone concerning the accident between the two commuter trains that collided injuring hundreds of people.

  The party winded down to only a few close friends and relatives remaining in the backyard. Regan had managed to keep the conversation away from the accident and on her upcoming nuptials and other fun activities.

  Carter handed Lincoln a drink. “Here. Drink this to get some color back in your face.”

  She took the drink but held the glass in her hand. She wasn’t in the mood for alcohol. “Thanks. I should help Regan clean up the yard. We made a mess of the yard.”

  “We’re going to help her clean the yard, Lincoln. I’m worried about you. Since they’ve left, you have been in a slump. I know you’re worried, and I know Regan is, too. She is better at hiding it than you. When you were with Anthony, didn’t you prepare yourself for these types of emergencies?”

  “Carter, I did worry about Anthony when he was at work. I’m worried about him now, and I have no right to be.”

  “So that display of concern wasn’t for Nick but Anthony?”

  “That was genuine for Nick. I don’t know who looks out for him when he is working, so I say a prayer for him.”

  Carter patted Lincoln gently on the knee. “Sweetie, I can’t tell you what to feel, but what I witnessed between you and Nick was heartwarming.
I have to say it made my eyes tear. Unless, you plan to fight this woman for Anthony…”

  “No way in hell will I take Anthony back,” Lincoln said, taking a sip of the drink she didn’t want. “I’ll never be able trust him again.”

  “I understand your plight. There probably isn’t a woman in this yard who hasn’t had her heart broken at one time in her life and not gone through what you are now.”

  “I’ve heard it, Carter. I’ve watched you and Regan suffer breakups and rebound within a week. This wasn’t a high school crush for me. I was supposed to marry this man.”

  Carter frowned. “Be thankful you weren’t married, Lincoln. You’d be suffering more than a broken heart. You can walk away with scars that will heal and start over with no strings attached. Anthony has a child with that woman. They will be connected together for the rest of their lives. Believe me, you don’t want to be a part of that.”

  Carter’s husband had previously been married before and had a child with his first wife. The way she was speaking seemed to indicate a problem in their marriage. “Carter, is everything okay at home?”

  “We’re dealing with an issue, Lincoln. Thomas’s son is causing trouble, and now the ex-wife is calling and demanding we take custody of him.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’ll do whatever Thomas wants. That is his son, and he can’t turn his back on him.”

  Lincoln looked around the yard and saw her mother, Regan, and a few other women dancing around and laughing. “What will become of Mom if his son moves in?” she asked Carter.

  Carter grinned, watching them. “One thing you don’t have to worry about is our mother. At fifty-three, she is enjoying her life to the fullest. Before we came to Cleveland she signed a multi-year lease on a beautiful three-bedroom townhouse not far from me.”

  Lincoln sighed. “Is she moving in with this guy?”

  Carter shrugged her shoulders. “I can’t say if he will move in with her or not. The man is wealthy, but Mom is independent and will not live off his money. Lincoln, if you don’t get with Nick, and I believe you will…”

  She shook her head. “I’m not hooking up with Nick.”

  “You say that now. Anyhow, it was her way of offering you a place to stay if you want to leave Cleveland.”

  “I don’t have any plans to leave Cleveland or Nick being the man in the next phase of my life. I’m done with firefighters.”

  “Girl, please. A man’s occupation has nothing to do with him breaking your heart. He could be a plumber, electrician, doctor, or a homeless man you feel is too cute to be on the streets. If you aren’t meant to be together, the relationship won’t work.”

  “A homeless man too cute to be on the streets—really, Carter,” she said chuckling.

  “My analogy may be a little on the strange side, but you get my drift. What would be so bad about dating Nick? He’s handsome, seems like a nice guy, and appears to care about you.”

  Lincoln raised her brow and nodded, reminiscing about her hands roaming over his body. She remembered how the warmth of his skin caused a ripple to roll deep inside her. “He is all of those things, yet there is this code that firefighters stand by. If Nick breaks the code, he will be blackballed.”

  Carter rolled her eyes upward. “God, if that happens, the world will end tomorrow. Let me write this down for my next breaking news headline.”

  “I agree. It’s silly.” Her tone softened as she looked down at the ice in the cup melting. “Nick was hurt badly working a factory fire and almost died. I hope he’s careful this time.”

  “Carter, Lincoln, come over here and line-dance with us,” Lynette called to her daughters.

  Carter tilted Lincoln’s head up. “Listen to me. Forget some silly code and follow his lead. Nick is a big boy and will handle the fallout from his co-workers. I like what I saw him do with you. Oh, man, just imagine the pretty babies you will make.”

  Lincoln’s head went back with laughter. “You’ve had too much to drink.” She pulled Carter up with her and said, “We better go dance with Mom before she gets a switch and comes after our behinds.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Nick and a team of firefighters searched through the wreckage of a passenger car for survivors before starting the recovery efforts for bodies. The twisted metal of the two Amtrak trains made it difficult to move around, and with darkness taking over, weary but determined firefighters depended on sounds to lead them to trapped victims.

  He dropped to his knees and crawled under the overturned seats and electrical wires that sparked and danced around him to feel around for any signs of life. He stopped when his hand touched something warm under a pile of debris. “I got one over here!” He yelled into the radio. He worked to free the trapped victim beneath the overturned tables and seats. Uncovering the victim’s face, he saw it was a man, maybe younger than he was. His eyes were open and staring Nick in the face.

  “I’m gonna get you out. Hold on, okay?” He pleaded with the man that didn’t respond with words but wounded eyes. The more Nick dug through the debris, tearing what he could away with his bare hands, a dreadfulness fell over him. As he got closer to the man, he realized the extent of his injuries and knew he would not make it. The hole in his chest gushed blood. Nick suspected there would be no way he would hold on until help arrived. An attempt to remove him from the train could take hours. He tried to stop the blood flow with his hands, pressing on the gash and saying a prayer.

  He saw the man’s eyes close and said, “Hey, open your eyes. I don’t want you to fall asleep and miss the finale. Okay, I know it probably hurts to talk, but if you understand me blink. I need something from you, man. Give me something to let me know you hear me.”

  The man opened his eyes but obviously could not speak. His eyelids opened and closed in response to Nick’s question. Nick smiled. “Good. Just keep doing that for me.”

  An hour later, rescue reached them. Nick emerged from the wreckage first. Exhausted and covered in debris and blood, he waited for the victim to be brought out. The young man never spoke a word, but they communicated through eye contact until his eyes closed for the final time.

  Nick dropped his helmet on the ground and took off his bloody gloves. Jon came over to him. “Hey, are you okay?”

  Nick nodded. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

  “This was a horrible accident. It’s been a while since we’ve responded to one of these.”

  Blood had seeped through Nick’s gloves and stained his hands. “Tell me about it.” He scanned the site where the two trains smoldered in a tangled heap. The sound of K-saws and blow-torches cutting through the metal was grating. The pinpoints of light flickered across the yard from firefighter’s helmets as they ran back and forth. And orders from commanders shouting above the noise filled the night air.

  His heart broke every time he had to respond to a scene such as this. He felt badly for the families that received the news about their loved ones tonight. Not many passengers survived this wreck.

  “Well, we’re finished here. The firehouses servicing this area will handle it from here. The train company is deploying a cleanup crew equipped to handle train accidents to help. You can head over to Engine 4 to hose off your turnout.”

  Nick focused on the bloody gloves on the ground and made a mental note to get a new pair. “Should I go home or return to the station?”

  “Home—you’re officially off duty again,” Jon said, walking away.

  “Okay.” He walked over to Engine 4 to hose off. On the way there, he saw Anthony leaning against a water tanker and talking on his cell phone. He was probably reassuring Melanie that he was okay. He remembered that he had promised to call Lincoln but didn’t get around to it. He spoke to a few firefighters who were sitting on the ground eating sandwiches before returning to the wreck. A few more sat on the railroad tracks with their heads held low while others walked around not focused on any one thing in particular.

  After hosing off, he stri
pped off the bunkers pants and boots and tossed them in the bed of the truck. The clothes he’d worn underneath surprisingly were not ruined; only his shirt got damp from the water. He tied his tennis shoes and got in his truck to go home. The clock on the dash flashed 2:32am. He waved as Engine 30 passed by him.

  Nick grabbed his stomach when it rumbled with hunger pangs. After all those hours digging through the wrecked trains, his body craved food. And at this hour, there was none to be found other than questionable fast food joints where the food wouldn’t agree with him if he ate it this late.

  He shifted the truck into gear and started for home. “Grilled cheese here I come,” he said looking out the rearview mirror to see Anthony’s car behind him. A devilish grin crossed his face knowing the deaths he witnessed should have him feeling different.

  His cell phone was lying on the passenger’s seat. He reached for it and dialed a number, keeping one eye on the road. Lincoln answered on the first ring. “Lincoln, I’m sorry I’m calling so late but I’m just leaving the scene.”

  “No, I’m glad you called. I haven’t been able to sleep anyway. I’ve been up watching the news and the coverage of the accident. How are you doing?”

  “I’m starving, tired and disappointed that I couldn’t help more survivors. This was a bad one, Lincoln.”

  “I thought you might be hungry, so I made you a plate of food and put it up.”

  He looked in the review mirror again. Anthony was about a car’s length away from him. “So, what are you suggesting?”

  “I’m suggesting you come and get it or I can bring it to you. Let me know when you get home, and I’ll come over.”

  “Nah, I don’t want you driving alone this late. I’ll swing by your place since I’m out already.” He came to a stop light, and Anthony’s headlights were on the truck’s bumper. He knew his silhouette would show he was on the phone and hoped Anthony was fuming at the thought of Nick talking to Lincoln.

  “How far away are you?”

  “About thirty minutes.”

  “I’ll see you shortly. Bye, Nick.”

  “Bye.” He veered off towards the highway and Anthony kept straight on the road. He didn’t know where Melanie lived but knew the direction Anthony was going was not his way home.

 

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