by Austin Bates
"I should let Anne know what's going on," he said. "I haven’t had a chance to tell her about the prank caller, and she and Carlos will be here by themselves while I'm at my appointment tomorrow."
Damien forced his feet to move, stepping back. "I should radio Olivia before she does something I'll regret." He glanced at the warmly lit shop, welcoming and peaceful now that the engine was pulling away. "Can you call it a night?"
Tommy raised one eyebrow. "I guess," he said slowly. "I don't have any scheduled appointments, so it would just be walk-ins. Can I borrow your phone to text Anne?"
"It's in my truck." They both turned to stare down the street. Damien felt a flush crawling up his cheeks as he took in the haphazard way he'd parked, the front passenger wheel on the sidewalk. "I should pull around back," he said.
Chapter Sixteen
"Don't worry about it," Tommy said, tugging on the hem of his shirt to keep from reaching for Damien. "I'll just lock up, and we can go have dinner or something."
The alpha looked so lost, his hands shaking slightly where they touched. It made Tommy's heart ache even as he wanted to shout it from the rooftops. The tiny light of hope that he'd cursed himself for nurturing had flared to life at the panic on Damien's face. Panic for him, not the baby, although he wasn't expecting Damien to stop stroking his belly any time soon.
Damien nodded, swallowing hard. "I'll go get my phone." He didn't move, and Tommy took a chance, tucking himself against his side and letting the soothing heat soak into his skin.
"I'm sorry you had to go through that," he said quietly.
"I'm just glad you're okay," Damien said, kissing him on the head. "I... Let me get my phone."
Tommy let him pull away. Biting back a sigh, he admired the way the muscles moved under Damien's shirt in the light of the street lamps. Sometimes he thought things were getting better. Resting his hand on his belly, he rubbed his thumb over the tight skin. Was it fair to any of them if he wasn't sure?
"Here," Damien said, unlocking his phone and handing it over. He stroked his fingers along Tommy's wrist, then jerked back. "I'm going to let Olivia know that she can call off the cavalry." He walked away without waiting for Tommy to reply.
Pursing his lips, Tommy blew his hair out of his face and stabbed at the phone's keyboard.
“Men drive me crazy. – Tommy”
The response came almost immediately. “Me2 – Anne”
Tommy smiled, heading into the shop as he tapped out a brief explanation. “Also, how do I tell if a guy likes me? – Tommy”
The phone started ringing as walked to the back to shut the lights off.
"Are you twelve?" Anne said, the sound of explosions and cursing in the background. "Do you need me to fold you one of those note things with the yes and no boxes?"
"I'm pretty sure Damien cares about me," he said, "but I'm not sure he's happy about that."
Anne sighed. "Of course he cares about you. You're his best friend, and you're having his kid."
"We haven't been best friends in a long time," Tommy said as he flipped off the main lights.
"You would be if you'd just talk to each other like adults," she grumbled. "I swear, if you'd just tell him how you feel..."
"I have. I have told him that I love him sixteen times. He just smiles and changes the subject." Tommy glanced at the back door to make sure it was locked and armed the security system. "I just don't think he's ever going to forgive me for what happened, and I'm not sure I can live with that."
"Boss," Anne said, a door clicking as the background noise faded, "it's been a couple months. Both of you have to rewrite ten years of thinking, and that's going to take time. It would be a lot easier if you just talked about it, but since you're both repressed kindergarteners, I doubt that's going to happen. Maybe I should fold you that note..."
"I'm serious, Anne."
"So am I. You can't just expect things to go back to the way they were overnight. Maybe you'll never get there."
Tommy flinched. "That's what I'm afraid of," he said, heading back to the front to get his bag. The front office had a lingering scent of the diesel exhaust from the fire engines, and it made his nose itch.
"I know, boss, but that's because you're not thinking. Just because you can't get back what you were when you were kids doesn't mean you can't have something way better. You just have to give it time."
Pausing at the counter, Tommy sighed, rubbing his hand over his belly. "Why do you have to make sense?"
"Someone has to," she said.
Out of the corner of his eye, Tommy saw a shadow shift on the wall. He jerked around in alarm. "Who's there?"
"Boss?" Anne said, her voice tinny as Tommy pulled the phone away from his ear.
"Hey, lover. How's it going?" The alpha that stepped into view was thin, his dark hair and dark eyes unremarkable. It was the half-finished tattoo on his shoulder that made Tommy recognize him.
"What are you doing here?" He glared, moving so that there was a table between them. Fear curled around his spine, and he rested a protective hand on his stomach.
"Oh, you do remember me," he said, stepping forward. Tommy stepped back, and he smiled.
Dropping his hand to his side, behind the curve of his belly, Tommy fumbled with the speed dial, hitting the first name on the list. "I remember telling you that you were banned from my shop," he said, his voice calm and even. He glanced at the door. If he could delay long enough, Damien would come in looking for him.
The alpha sneered, his fist slamming down on the table. "Bitch," he spat, but then he paused, the tension fading back out of his stance. "You omegas get so testy. You really should learn to treat alphas with respect."
Tommy looked away, glancing at the phone in his hand. "You're not one to talk about respect, Jack."
"It's Jim," he said through his teeth. "A whore like you ought to have been grateful for the attention."
Pausing, Tommy narrowed his eyes. "It was you."
Surprised, Jim hesitated, his feet shuffling against the tile. "Don't know what you're talking about."
"The spray paint. That was you." Anger crept up Tommy's spine.
"You can't prove it," Jim said.
Tommy glared. "I'm willing to bet that I can, but I'll leave that up to the police." He turned toward the door, and Jim dove after him.
The movement was instinctive. The second he felt the alpha's slimy hand close on his arm, Tommy slammed his fist into his nose. Jim dropped like a rock, spraying blood along the floor.
"Son of a bitch," he screamed, kicking out as Tommy tried to get past him to the front door.
Heading for the back door, Tommy froze in horror as he turned the corner and caught a blast of hot air heavy with smoke. There was smoke creeping through the gaps around the metal door, and he couldn't even make it halfway down the hallway before the heat of the door drove him back.
He stumbled away, driving his elbow back when a heavy hand landed on his shoulder. Jim cursed, trying to get a grip on his hair, but Tommy was faster, kicking out at his knee until it went out from under him with a sickening crack.
He could hear the roar of fire now, and his heart pounded in his ears as he scrambled back to the front of the shop. All he could think of was getting to Damien. Damien would know what to do.
The front was in flames. The smell of gas was so strong it choked him as he watched the front window blacken, the gold logo turning to ash. Surrounded, he spun on his heel, trying to remember everything he and Damien had talked about all those years ago researching possible career paths.
"Water. I need water," he said to himself. Eyes on the smoke crawling across the ceiling, he slipped into the bathroom, shutting the door to keep the smoke out for as long as possible. "I hope you're someone who can get me help," he added, belatedly remembering the phone in his hand. "My shop is on fire."
"Fuck," Olivia said succinctly, and relief made goose bumps pop up on his skin like a cold breeze. "I'm on it."
Tommy picked
up a thick wad of paper towels with shaking hands, soaking them in cold water. As an afterthought, he wet down his shirt, too. He was pressing one of the wet towels to his mouth when the lights flickered and went out.
In the dark, it was easier to hear the crackle of the flames and harder to see the smoke. Fear choked him, making it hard to breathe. The light from the phone screen was just enough for him to make his way back to the door.
"Olivia, give me good news," he said.
"Baby?"
"Damien?" Tommy pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it in surprise.
"I need you to stand back from the front windows, okay?" His voice was muffled, and Tommy winced as feedback whined over the line.
"I'm in the bathroom," he said, tears welling up in his eyes. Damien sounded calm and confident, and it battered the facade of calm that he'd been maintaining. He knew that Damien would save him, and he didn't have the strength to pretend to be strong anymore. "The lights are out, and I can hear the fire."
"Good, baby. You're doing so good. Did you wet down your clothes already?" He grunted, and there was the sound of fabric and Velcro.
"Yes. I'm afraid." Tommy blinked, and tears slid down his cheeks into the wet paper towel.
"Don't be, baby. I'm going to be right there. You just wait one minute, okay? You're going to be just fine."
Tommy cracked the door slightly and wished he hadn't. "The shop," he moaned, staring at the scorched remains of the counter. The glass was warped and melted, and the plastic of Anne's chair was puddled on the floor.
"Tommy, stay away from the windows," Damien said sharply.
Tommy nodded, then laughed a little hysterically at his stupidity. "I will," he said. I'm still in the bathroom."
On the other side of the window, he could see something moving through the soot and the flames.
"Take a really deep breath, baby, and hold it for as long as you can."
Frowning, Tommy did as he was told. The air was thick with smoke, and it coated his mouth and tongue like paint even with the water to filter it. He pulled it deep into his lungs, hating every second of it.
The front window shattered, and he jerked back, coughing as the fire flared to an inferno and sucked all the air out of the building. There was nothing but black and red and yellow, like a painting of hell come to life. He wanted to scream, but there was no breath left. Gray spots danced in his vision, and he swayed, sliding to his knees. There was a tiny bit of air down near the floor, and he sucked it in with a gasp.
Strong arms wrapped around him, and he fought back, kicking out with all his strength. The hands that caught him were gentle, covered in rough, thick fabric. He peered through the dark and the smoke at the face behind the helmet.
"Damien." He wrapped his arms around the alpha's neck, tucking his face into the harsh fabric of his uniform. He'd never been so happy to have the skin of his cheek rubbed raw.
"I've got you, baby," Damien said, lifting him carefully. The heat pressed in on them, and Tommy could smell burning hair. "Keep your head down." The words were muffled by the helmet. Pressed against him like a second skin, Tommy had no trouble hearing them.
He kept his eyes closed and his hands over his mouth as they waded back out of the inferno. The sounds were enough to give him nightmares, the building creaking like it was going to come down at any moment. He was glad he couldn't see anything.
The first wash of air outside felt like ice against the heat of the fire. He ripped the paper towel off his mouth, almost dry but for the sweat off his skin, and took a great gulping breath. The soothing cool of the night stroked his gritty eyes, and he refused to turn and look at his shop, his whole life, turning to nothing but ash.
In the distance, he could hear sirens, and he shuddered, clutching Damien tighter when he tried to set him down.
"Are you okay, baby?" Damien asked, not stopping until they were out of sight of the fire, tucked against the side of his truck. "Let me look you over. I need to see that you're okay."
Tearing off his helmet, Damien checked him over, smoothing his hands over every inch of his skin. It was warm and intimate, and he pressed his shaking hands to his eyes to try and hold back the tears.
"You're okay," Damien said, his voice shaking. "You're okay." He pulled Tommy's hands away from his eyes, tucking him against the soft fabric of his t-shirt. Tommy hadn't even noticed him peeling off the top half of his gear, but he was grateful. The smoke and sweat smell of Damien's skin erased the gas and scorched plastic fumes that he hadn't even noticed until now. "Jesus, I love you."
Tommy's heart leaped, and he pulled back enough to stare at Damien, memorizing his face at that moment. Adrenaline shivered along his nerves, and he threw his arms around the alpha's neck, dragging him into a deep kiss.
The heat of their lips made the fire behind him seem like a candle, and he pressed closer, licking at Damien's lips until the other man took control. He groaned in the back of his throat at the sweet flavor of Damien's mouth, his tongue stroking along all of Tommy's most sensitive spots.
They tore apart when the sirens got close enough to make Tommy wince and watched as the fire engine screamed to a stop. There were no jokes and laziness this time, the crew moving with a mechanical precision as they went about their jobs.
"He's still in there," Tommy gasped suddenly. "Jim, the guy who's been doing all the spray painting. He's still in the back."
Damien hesitated, swallowing hard as he looked from the engine crew to Tommy and back.
"Go," Tommy said, clenching his hands into fists to keep from clinging to him.
Nodding firmly, Damien took off at a jog, falling in step with one of the men as they hooked up the fire hose.
There were more sirens coming, and Tommy groaned at the thought of spending more days in the hospital. He would do it, he knew, but he wouldn't like it. Pressing a hand to his belly, he smiled, tears spilling down his cheeks as the baby shifted.
"We're okay, right, baby?" he said to it, his legs giving out. Sitting on the curb, he leaned forward as much as he could and struggled not to pass out. He couldn't close his eyes without seeing the fire crawling across the floor toward him.
"I've got you," Damien said, wrapping him up in an ugly orange blanket. "The paramedics are here. They're taking that guy to the hospital, but I want them to look you over, too."
"I breathed in smoke," Tommy said, his voice cracking. "What if I hurt the baby?"
Damien smiled, stroking the hair back off Tommy's face. "You didn't, sweetheart. The baby's just fine."
"I don't want to go to the hospital. I hate hospitals." Tommy twisted around so that he could bury his face in Damien's neck.
"I know," Damien said, gently lifting Tommy to his feet. "We'll see what they say. You were amazing, getting to the bathroom to put wet paper towels over your face." He pressed his warm hand against the small of Tommy's back, right over the muscles that never seemed to stop aching. Urging Tommy forward, he chuckled when Tommy refused to lift his head. "You can stay there if you want, baby, but the EMT might object a little."
"Don't care," he said, covering his ears as the flames got louder for a moment before they were blocked by the bulk of the engine.
The ambulance was parked on the other side of the street, well out of the way of the heat from the burning building. They had the doors angled to block the view, and Tommy breathed a shaky sigh of relief as he sat down where the paramedic pointed him.
"I don't ever want to do this again," he told the woman seriously as he breathed on command, the stethoscope cold on his chest. The paramedic nodded sympathetically but didn't comment.
"Any coughing?" she asked as she took his pulse.
"No," they both said at the same time.
"We really ought to get you to the hospital, just to have the baby checked," she said, "but you sound clear."
"He has an appointment with his doctor tomorrow," Damien said, "and I can keep an eye on him tonight."
She ran her ey
e over his uniform and nodded. "I'll put it in the report."
"I don't have to go to the hospital?" Tommy blinked in surprise as the woman closed up her pack.
"Do you want to?" she asked, one eyebrow raised. Tommy shook his head so hard the world tilted, and she laughed.
Damien chuckled as she walked away. "I love you," he said, his voice awed.
Tommy's heart stuttered, but the knee-jerk joy at finally hearing the words had faded. Smiling sadly, he cupped Damien's jaw. "It's just the adrenaline."
It would have been funny if his heart wasn't breaking, the way Damien's eyes went wide. The alpha cursed under his breath, the lines between his brows deep and angry. "Why is Mica always right?" he muttered. "I love you," he said clearly before Tommy could ask. "I have been in love with you since I was ten."
Opening his mouth to protest, Tommy fell silent as one callused finger stroked across his lips.
"I love you," Damien repeated softly. "I'm sorry I was an idiot and forgot that, but I do. I'm not hallucinating or overreacting."
Tommy had to look away from the earnest expression that made him think of summer nights under the stars. "I don't think," he said, even as something inside him screamed for him to shut up and take what he could get, "that you can love someone if you don't trust them."
Damien frowned. "I trust you." He cupped Tommy's chin, trying to get him to look up, but Tommy resisted. "Is this about what happened before?"
"You're still angry about it," Tommy said quietly.
Pressing his forehead against Tommy's hair, Damien sucked in a slow breath. "Yeah," he said, and Tommy flinched. "I can't even explain why I'm still pissed." He stroked his hand gently over the red ribbon curling up Tommy's arm. "Some of the time it's just reflex, you know? And sometimes I just get so mad at myself for wasting so much time..."
Tommy gaped at him, and Damien ducked his head sheepishly. "I could have had this years ago," he said, dropping a kiss on Tommy's slack lips.
"I love you," Tommy said, and Damien smiled, the dimple in his cheek glowing in the light of the ambulance.
"I love you, too, baby."