Inextinguishable Love: Firefighter and Interracial Romance

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Inextinguishable Love: Firefighter and Interracial Romance Page 2

by Kathleen Bunker


  "Gary, what's going on over there?" Sophia asked him as he and Lucy continued to wrestle. "Do you have a woman over for the night?"

  “What?”

  “Ok. So I suppose that’s Lucy?”

  "You b-bet," he replied, struggling to keep the phone in his ear.

  "Put the goddamn phone on speaker so that I could speak to her too."

  “Fine!” Gary gave in. "You two win, all right." He tapped on the screen to put the Samsung on speaker. "You happy now?" he shot a feigned displeased look at Lucy who appeared to be satisfied.

  "Lucy! Keeping that old man alive, are you?" Sophia asked, and Lucy replied with an excited while she tried to touch the screen with her pawn but before Gary could jump in the call broke up.

  “What the hell?” he gave Lucy an accusatory stare. “Did you just end the call?” he asked her.

  Lucy sat down quietly on his lap and appeared to offer an apology with her low whimper.

  Gary tried to call Sophia back, but before he could he hit the call button she called him back, This time it was a video call.

  “Sorry I hung up on you,” she apologized with a smile. “Where’s Lucy? I wanted to see her that’s why I placed a video call.”

  Gary adjusted the phone so the front camera could capture Lucy. "Right here, feeling remorseful for your actions."

  “Aww, I'm so sorry cutie. Now cheer up for me please," Sophia pleaded and Lucy got up to peer closer toward the phone, but she still wasn’t back to her excited mood.

  “That’s my girl.”

  “You were saying something,” Gary interjected.

  Sophia rolled her eyes at him. “Don’t be mean.”

  “So?”

  “You are supposed to be at our fundraising tomorrow, remember?”

  “Shit. I had forgotten.”

  “Seriously? I told you to hang the invitation letter I sent to you somewhere you could all the time. Hope you’ve not also forgotten the list of things I wrote down that you should help me purchase before coming over to Manhattan?”

  “Oh boy,” Gary grumbled and scratched his head.

  “What? You’ve lost it?”

  “Uh, not exactly. I left it in my drawer at the station.”

  “Gary,” Sophia called his name in a way to show she was not happy with him.

  “I’m sorry. I promise to get it tomorrow morning before driving over.”

  "Those things are essential, okay?"

  "Okay," Gary replied nonchalantly not happy about the fact that he has to step out the next day when all he had planned to do was stay indoors and read or watch something.

  "So how did your day go?” Sophia asked pretending not to notice his unexcited demeanor.

  “Stressful.”

  "Hmm," she tucked her braids behind her ear. "I see that for sure. You look like shit and I'm sure you smell as bad too," she laughed. "Make sure you grab dinner before going to bed, all right?"

  “Yes ma’am,” Gary replied sarcastically.

  “Ma’am? Seriously?” she frowned him just as someone called her attention from elsewhere. “Got to go pal. Be good, catch plenty rest and one more thing, look your best tomorrow okay?”

  “Oh boy,” Gary hung his head in defeat and grumbled knowing what she was up to already. “Don’t you ever give up?”

  “Not until you’ve found love again,” she countered. “Love you.”

  “Love you too. Good night.”

  Chapter 3

  The following morning, Gary drove down to the New York City Fire Department at W 31st St to retrieve the shopping list Sophia had mailed down to him with the invitation card for the fundraising dinner.

  Since Sophia had reached the legal age to be held responsible for her actions, he had known her to be a volunteer with several international NGO’s that catered for the well-being of women around the world. This time, she was inviting him to a fundraising dinner organized by an NGO that was concerned with helping women beat breast cancer in its early stage in underdeveloped countries in Africa and Asia.

  Gary was proud of her, but somehow he didn't fit into her circle. Still, she always managed to drag him into it so he could get to meet and socialize with others but what she hoped was for him to find some lady that would arrest is interest again. So far, she had no luck with that, and he knew she was increasingly getting worried about him.

  Gary wasted no time getting in and out of his office but just as he was about crossing the lobby to head outside. But at the very moment when the blond receptionist with a round face was waving and smiling sheepishly at him, he heard the alarm. It was an alarm that required a priority one response.

  Gary halted his advancement like reflex action and turned to face the receptionist who was still watching him with deep interest like she'd hoped he noticed her forced smile, but Gary hadn't. He hurried over to the door adjacent to her desk that led downstairs to the apparatus bay.

  "Please take care of Lucy," he instructed the receptionist hastily and passionately in a plea as he walked past her desk in a quick motion.

  Gary was well aware that the firefighters on the ground were capable of handling any emergency response, but he couldn’t resist the urge to want to join the response team even though he was off duty and on leave.

  Besides that, his instincts told him that the team was short of staff and sure enough, as soon as he arrived the bay, he realized his instinct was right.

  “Who’s the IC?” Gary demanded hastily in a formal tone, asking no member in particular as he wore his over trousers quickly.

  All the firefighters on the ground were all dressing in haste in almost the same fashion as if they were automated. They had been trained all their life for this. Still, an unspoken tension spread across the room. It always felt like this for all emergency response because they knew the inevitable could happen. Whether or not they were prepared to face it.

  "It's Bill," Chelsea, the redhead member from New Jersey replied almost immediately as he had asked just as she appeared from behind one of the fire engines adjusting her helmet while not looking up yet.

  Gary glanced at her stoically as he adjusted and tested his Self-Contained Breathing Apparatus (SCBA). He was glad she was on the ground as she was one of the best fighters he’d trained and he trusted her judgment.

  Chelsea stopped momentarily the moment she’d seen him. She looked shocked to see him there.

  “Sir?”

  Gary shook his head to dissuade her. "Not the time Chelsea," he stopped her abruptly from making any further comments, and he could tell from the look in her eye that she felt hurt by his coldness. He had no choice. They couldn’t afford the argument of whether or not he should be there assisting them when the chief had mandated him to take a leave.

  “Bill!” Gary called out to the incident commander before he climbed into the truck, “Let’s move it.”

  Fortunately for the team, traffic was favorably light, and five minutes later, the blaring fire engine drove through the 7th avenue, past Rubin Museum of Art and headed toward West 15th Street intersection. At the intersection, Michael, the engine driver, beat the red light and turned into West 15th Street swiftly and in less than a minute he pulled up in front of Mall just opposite the burning Spa Palace.

  The whole area was engulfed in smoke as an inferno towered over the three-story building into the sky. Chaos appeared to be the order of the morning as the team swung into action. Gary noticed officers and the first responders were trying their best to evacuate everyone else left in the building just as they were also trying to control the growing crowd by setting a perimeter around.

  Large crowds had gathered across the street and were watching. Dread and worry were written over their faces. The fire was too massive. Gary hoped no one was trapped because finding such an individual would be tough, unless they got an extra help to control the blaze—and that still depended on the precision and quick judgment of the firefighters.

  After his quick survey of the pandemonium at the scene,
Gary was turning to assist some of the crew with the attack hose when he heard the indistinct siren of the EMT ambulance approaching and saw an officer approaching him.

  From the serious look on the ten-foot tall African-American officer who appeared to be in the early thirties, Gary knew he was coming to debrief him on the report so far. Gary Damon figured the officer knew him so well too because he was quite popular in the city, but he wasn’t incident commander that morning.

  "Captain," the officer called when he was within a few feet to Gary, "my men and me…"

  “Sorry,” Gary interrupted him gently and peered at his nametag on his uniform, “Office Charles? I’m not the IC. Lieutenant Will is.” He informed the policeman who already looked confused while pointing toward the direction of Will.

  “Oh, my bad. Sorry captain,” Officer Charles politely apologized and turned to approach Will.

  “Don’t be,” Damon muttered.

  Jackson, the youngest in the team, drew the hose line further to assist the fighters up front to attack the fire more closely.

  “What. The. Hell?” the firefighter exclaimed as he dragged the line. “I have never seen a fire this mad,” he lamented.

  “Really?” Michael teased. “Where were you during 9/11?”

  “In Atlanta, freezing.”

  "Hmm, looks like hell woke up thinking of New York City," Chelsea said as she flanked him from the left. "We need to call for backup."

  “FDNY Engine 3 is on their way already," Bill announced almost simultaneously, sounding nervous as he approached Gary who was already picking out equipment to lead the primary search team into the building. "Captain…"

  Gary cut him off before his next words. “What we’ve got?” he asked without glancing at him.

  Gary caught Bill from the corner of his eye glancing hopelessly at Chelsea like he wanted her to help me out with what next to say to, but she shrugged instead.

  Bill sighed, “Captain, I don’t want to fuck this up. Can you take over command please?”

  Gary hinged the flat head axe to his buckle and looked up to meet Bill’s pleading stare. “You know I can’t. I shouldn’t be here remember. You’ve got this. If anything goes wrong, it’s because you let it happen.”

  “Wow. That was inspiring,” Bill said in a disappointed tone. “Guess I have to hold the fort until the chief arrives.”

  “Sounds like it,” Gary replied him flatly and started to walk away, but stopped after taking a few steps.

  He turned and completing the path of a semicircle to look at Bill. “By the way, what’s the officer’s report?”

  “Well, uh, they think they’ve evacuated everyone inside the building.”

  “They think?!” Chelsea and Jackson both asked in a disbelieving tone.

  “My gut is telling me otherwise," Chelsea added shortly.

  “I don’t know if this count, but I honestly feel the same way,” Jackson chipped in.

  Gary didn’t like the report Bill had received. His gut felt the same way Chelsea and Jackson were already feeling. But unless the fire was contained to a bearable degree, there was no way any of the fire team could walk right through the doors of the burning Spa Palace. Unless they were ready to risk their own lives to save whoever that was trapped inside. That could result in a MAYDAY situation, but the fact that the authorities were unsure of the accountability status of everyone that had been inside earlier worsened the situation.

  “Well, they’ve gone about accounting for everyone. Still expecting the report on that. Let’s hope for the best though.”

  Michael, who was working at the top of the fire truck scoffed.

  “‘Hoping’ is as hopeless as a flaccid dick right now. If anyone is unfortunate to be caught in this infernal hell, the person is as good as toast. And Thanksgiving isn't any close yet." He said in a matter-of-fact tone. "Because there's no how any of us can walk into that right now," he stressed pointing at the burning Spa.

  Captain Damon agreed with his reasoning. In his many years of service, he also knew there were moments the textbook format of operation for a firefighter had to be discarded, and the risk had to be taken to save a victim's life.

  "Unless we are willing to discard the SOG if necessary,” Gary said casually.

  Michael started to protest, “Captain you’ve got to be kidding right now…”

  Bill’s agitated voice came over the portable radio and interrupted him.

  "Captain, there are some persons unaccounted for. Miss Richards is among them."

  “Who’s Miss Richards?” Jackson was asking when Gary swung into action and darted toward the building in quick gaits.

  Chelsea saw his determined face and knew there was no way he could be stopped, but she had to try. It was still too risky walking into in the fire. They had to wait for the other units to arrive and assist them suppressing the surge of the blame before any rescue operation could be initiated.

  “Gary!” she yelled, calling him by his first name. It’s been a while she did that. "You are planning on doing what I'm thinking right?" she asked and was replied by his silence. "It's too risky, please." She pleaded, but Gary was undeterred from his mission.

  "This guy has lost his mind," Michael sputtered, and Chelsea shot him a glare.

  “What? You know I’m right,” he snapped. “I’m not so enthused about saving a black man’s ass this morning.” Michael added in a hushed tone.

  Chelsea frowned at him, “Save me your racist bullshit.” She warned him and he replied her with a grunt.

  Chelsea couldn’t blame Michael for his utterance, but only she understood why Gary was throwing caution to the wind to save the victim or victims who could be trapped if there were any inside.

  She was well aware Gary still carried the blame for the firefighters who had failed to respond quickly to the scene of his fiancée’s plane crash at the airport in Lagos, Nigeria. Since the incidence, he never hesitated to act, no matter how impossible or risky it was to rescue a victim from a burning scene.

  A minute later, after debates back and forth between the team members and as soon as other fire units had arrived the scene, Chelsea grabbed the pry bars and hydraulic spreaders to find Gary with three other fire firefighters.

  She radioed in to know Gary’s position before walking into the building.

  Chapter 4

  The EMTs rushed toward Gary as soon they saw him staggering from the blinding smoke carrying what appeared to be the lifeless body of a woman.

  Gary collapsed onto the ground as soon as one of the EMTs had relieved him of the burden of the victim he was carrying. In quick succession, two others helped him remove his SCBA and proceeded with the standard protocol to ensure he was medically okay and not harmed adversely.

  Since walking through into the building earlier, Gary had been communicating with the team until he had reached the elevator on the second floor. From there, he became unresponsive to the radio calls that were sent to his channel. Even after the primary and secondary search teams had gone to the rescue and secured the remainder of the missing persons that were trapped in the building, Gary and Miss Richards were the only two no one knew about their whereabouts.

  Everyone seemed to be frantic and agitated. Even the chief appeared to be apprehensive and disorientated—two qualities he’s never displayed in public as a professional firefighter. And he was about to be forced to declare a MAYDAY when Gary lurched out looking battered in smut.

  Gary coughed loudly and repeatedly as he tried to regain his full consciousness. At the same time, he was trying to sit up to monitor the EMTs who were attending to the woman he had rescued earlier. One of the EMTs checking his vitals was asking him questions and giving him instructions, but Gary's mind wasn't even with them. His mind was a distance away, at the ambulance where Miss Richards was being loaded into.

  Gary still had no idea who she was, but he knew he had seen the most beautiful blue turquoise eyes he had ever seen in his entire life.

  He brushed of
f the hands that were stitching one of the few cuts on his face. “I’m fine, all right,” he barked frustratedly even as he recounted the desperate look in the eyes of Miss Richards the very moment he had cut open the elevator to rescue her.

  Her eyes were full of a compassionate plea, one that said more than the default appeal to be saved from the distress she was facing and he couldn’t resist the urge to help her even more.

  "Lay still Captain. Let the medics do their work to fix your shitty look," Gary heard the chief instruct from behind him, but his eyes remained glued to the ambulance that was being shut to drive away to the hospital and he tried to force his way to sit up.

  "Gary!" Chelsea called his name in a warning tone, but he still didn’t respond.

  She and Chief Matt Pierson trailed his stare and realized what he was up to. They both knew how Gary had an inexplicable attachment to any of the victims he saved personally, especially in a dire situation.

  The chief sighed. “She will make it. Thanks to you. You have my word," he said to persuade Gary stay calm until the paramedic properly checked him up.

  Gary eyes lazily glanced over to the Chief. He blinked blankly at him before complying with his orders.

  Ten minutes later, the medics were done ascertaining his health status. Besides cuts on his face and the bruises caused by sharp objects that had fallen on him—which they had stitched neatly, he appeared to be okay, but they advised he continued to check in with the station's medical unit or his doctor.

  “What the hell were you thinking?” Matt asked him as soon as the EMTs were out of earshot.

  Gary struggled to stand on his feet from the back of the ambulance. He raised an eyebrow at his boss.

  "Why're you asking like you don't know already?"

  “You are supposed to be off duty!”

  “And I am. None of this is happening, all right? Just let me leave discreetly before the media gets here.”

  Chelsea cleared her throat and nodded gently toward the east where some reporters were barraging the police officer in charge with questions.

 

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