“Hmm. Good point.” Still, I can’t help but wonder something. “Do you think he worked as hard as he did for as long as he did because I told him Maggie thought he was perfect and he wanted to put in a good performance for future writing inspiration?”
She giggles like crazy. “So what if he did? Hey, take your perks where you can get them.”
“I guess.” I have to giggle, too, but not as hard as she is. “I don’t want him to feel too much pressure though. It can’t be easy, dating a romance writer.”
“You’re always thinking about other people, aren’t you?” She studies me with a patented Hayley squint, her head tipped to one side. “There’s something else. I know you. You’re thinking about something besides the pressure on him. What is it?”
“It’s going to sound so shallow and terrible.”
“I’ll be the judge of that. You know I would never call you terrible, by the way.”
I notice she doesn’t include shallow, but I let it go. “I’m not sure I’m cut out to be a firefighter’s girlfriend. I don’t know if I could handle it.”
Her mouth falls open. “Oh. I didn’t think about that.”
“Neither did I until last night.” I share what Bryce told me about the fires he fought. “It would’ve been impossible to think about anything but whether he was okay. You know? I would’ve worried myself sick.”
“I don’t blame you,” she admits with a sad frown. “I would’ve worried too.”
“See what I mean? I can’t ignore what he does. I’ll be keeping an eye out all the time now whenever he’s on duty—and probably when he isn’t since he could be called in for a big fire.”
“I’m sure it’s rare for a firefighter to be seriously injured or worse,” she offers. “I can’t tell you the last time I heard of either thing happening, and I pay attention to the news.”
“That’s true. But you know me.”
“You? The queen of overthinkers? The woman who has the most active imagination of anybody I know? The girl who, if given the choice between a positive possibility and the worst, most awful conclusion, would choose awful nine out of ten times?”
“Was that a prepared speech? Do you lie in bed at night, thinking of all the ways I suck?”
She offers a smile, taking my hands. “Hey. Relax, okay? If anything, this is the sort of thing people get used to. Partners, spouses. I’m sure it’s the same for cops too. And soldiers. That doesn’t mean they all spend their lives single. It’s just that their loved ones learn to live with it. The worst might happen, but it rarely does.”
By the time she’s finished, I genuinely feel better. “I need to carry a pocket-sized version of you around with me wherever I go.”
“You do. It’s called having a phone. You know you’re the only person in the world I answer the phone for instead of pretending I missed the call and texting an apology a few minutes later.”
“I do know that. And vice versa.”
“Thank you. So, you know you can call me anytime. No matter how busy I am.”
“It’s a shame I can’t just marry you.” I sigh, shaking my head. “But I’m not into you that way.”
“One of nature’s cruel jokes,” she agrees with a mournful sigh.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Not loving this scene. Is there another way to wrap it up?
My head hurts. I rub my temples, glaring at Maggie’s note. She made it sound like she only wanted simple changes, a little tweaking here and there.
She neglected to mention hating the final scene and wanting me to come up with something new. How convenient. I’ve been struggling with it, and now, it’s the only thing I have left to revise before sending the new draft.
The ringing of my phone is a welcome distraction because, hey, any distraction during the writing or editing process is generally welcome.
“Where are you?” Hayley’s question practically comes out as a shout.
“I’m at home.” I have to pull the phone away from my ear and stare at it. “I’m editing, like I’ve been doing for days. What’s wrong?”
“Turn on the news, babe.”
There goes my stomach, plunging like I’m on a roller coaster and we just hit the first big hill. I minimize my document before pulling up the site for our local news channel.
“Multi-alarm fire sweeps through warehouses in Garment District.” I can barely breathe by the time I’m finished reading the headline.
“There’s live video,” she informs me as I’m already clicking the play button with a shaking hand. “Apparently, they called in companies from the other boroughs because this is such a huge fire.”
“Sure. Warehouses, fabrics. It’s gotta be terrible.” I’m talking without thinking. Moving my mouth and making sounds come out. I can hardly even hear myself over the sickening thudding of my heart.
“I’m sure he’s okay,” she tells me as the video picks up.
I’m finally watching the live video feed.
“Oh my God, Hayley.”
It’s an inferno. There’s what looks like an entire block of buildings on fire.
“I know. They said something about a problem with the hydrants around there. It took time to get them to work for some reason. I don’t know. So, the firefighters lost time.”
“I can’t believe it.”
“I’m sure he’s okay,” Hayley insists again. “I’m sure of it. They haven’t said anything about injuries, so that’s a good sign.”
“True.” I feel at least a small bit of relief when she puts it that way. “Hopefully, it stays that way.”
“I’m sure it will. I probably should’ve waited until I wasn’t so freaked before I called. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I would’ve done the same thing.”
We sit in silence, watching the news together. I don’t know what I would do if it wasn’t for her right now. I really don’t.
“Have you tried to text him or anything?” she asks after a while.
“No. I figure he’s not going to be able to use his phone if he’s in the middle of fighting this thing.”
“That’s true, but you never know. He might have a minute. He might want to let you know he’s okay, you know? Rather than leaving you hanging.”
“Good point.” I pull the phone away from my ear long enough to shoot him a text.
I’m watching the news. Please be careful. Let me know you’re okay.
After I send it, I go back to Hayley. “You don’t have to sit here on the phone with me. It’s okay. This could last a long time—the size of it alone, you know?”
“I don’t want you to have to watch this on your own.”
“I’ll be okay. So will he. There are a million firefighters out there right now. He’s not working alone.”
I wish I felt as confident as I’m trying to sound.
I also wish Jim’s concerns about Bryce being reckless and rushing into danger would stop ringing through my memory.
Should I have said something about that to him before now? Should I have reminded him that I’m in his life now and I need him to take care of himself?
By the time an hour passes, the fire has spread to an office building attached to the string of warehouses. I would hope, by now, the building’s empty since this fire’s been going for a while. Even so, it’s just another example of the fire not being under control. It’s a windy day, which isn’t helping.
“Just let him be okay.” I don’t know who I’m talking to or what I expect them to accomplish, but if there was ever a time for a prayer to be answered, this is it. “Just let him be okay.”
It’s almost midnight when one of the news anchors announces the fire is under control. There’s relief in her voice. “We’ve received reports of minor injuries to several firefighters, who are currently being treated—”
“What?” I can only stare at the screen and wonder what she’s talking about. How can she sound relieved when there are injured firefighters at the hospital? How can she make
it sound like there’s nothing wrong?
My phone is working. Why hasn’t Bryce texted me back? He’s busy, of course. I pass the device back and forth between shaking hands, still hanging on every word the anchors and reporters speak.
Until they switch away from the news, and the feed ends. Leaving me alone in a silent, empty apartment.
Oh, this isn’t going to work. Not even a little.
The firefighters who were injured are at the hospital. There’s a quick way of finding out whether Bryce is okay or not.
I’m dressed and in a car within minutes, on the way to the hospital. I’m sure everything is fine and that Bryce will tell me there was nothing to worry about in the first place.
What are the odds that he’d be one of the injured fighters with so many fighters at the site of the fire?
What would the odds be for a person prone to taking things above and beyond? What would the odds be for somebody who once ran into a fire before he was completely prepared and rushed out with a kid under each arm? Much better, I’d think.
Which is why I can’t relax during the ride to the hospital.
When I get there, I discover the local television stations are out in full force. I suppose whenever something like this happens—with injured heroes—it’s major news.
I’ve never taken reports like this personally. I’ve never given them more than a passing glance, a sigh, a feeling of sorrow if someone was lost.
And then I moved on because it didn’t affect me in a deep, meaningful way.
Until now.
I manage to hurry in through the emergency room doors without anybody asking if I’m a family member. The waiting room is full of uniformed men and women, both police and fire. I hear somebody mention the fire chief, who’s here somewhere, and somebody else asks whether the mayor has been notified.
All of this is a blur around me as I look for anyone I recognize. Anyone from Bryce’s company. The longer I go without seeing a familiar face, the more confident I feel. I need to have a serious talk with Bryce, but otherwise, this was a big overreaction on my part.
If I didn’t already know what a risk-taker he was, I might not have overreacted. Hence the talk we need to have.
“Kitty?”
I turn in the direction of that deep, gravelly voice and groan in dismay at the sight of Bryce’s captain coming my way. He’s not wearing the look of a man who’s confused as to why I’m here. He doesn’t even have a smile to assure me there was no reason for me to come all this way.
“I didn’t know he’d gotten in touch with you.” He puts a hand on my shoulder. “He’ll be okay.”
I forget how to speak. How do I use words? How do I make my mouth form words? What even are words?
“Kitty?” Jim’s hand tightens on my shoulder, and that snaps me out of it enough that I can think clearer.
“I didn’t know,” I whisper. “I came to see. I didn’t know.”
“Oh Christ.” He steers me to a chair and sits me down. “He’s okay. He’ll be fine. I’m gonna have his ass for this, but he’ll be fine. Just a lot of smoke and minor burns, nothing serious. Maybe this taught him a lesson.”
I can barely make sense of this. It’s all swirling around in my head, all these words. Smoke. Burns. “Where is he? What happened? I don’t understand.”
“I wouldn’t have dropped it on you like that if I had known you hadn’t heard yet.”
“Nobody would’ve thought to tell me.” We’re not at emergency-contact status. “How are the rest of you? Was anybody else hurt?”
That’s when his jaw tightens, and the warmth and gentleness, which were only just visible in his friendly blue eyes, harden into something almost scary. “Two more. They, uh, had to go in to pull Bryce out.”
Oh. I understand why his mood changed. I can almost identify with that change too.
It’s one thing for a guy to risk his own life. When he brings other people into it, that’s another story.
“Don’t get me wrong. He went in to find a woman who got trapped in one of the offices when the fire reached the stairwell and blocked her exit. She’d be dead right now if it wasn’t for him.”
My heart swells. He saved a woman’s life.
“But he put his respirator mask over her face instead of keeping it over his own. He knows better than that.” His voice is a deadly whisper, the sort of sound a snake makes when it’s on the verge of striking. “The smoke overwhelmed him about fifty feet from the exit. The woman ran out and said he collapsed.”
“Oh. Wow.” I can’t think of anything else to say. What else is there? Even I know what Bryce did was beyond reckless, but if that woman couldn’t breathe and he wanted to keep her alive …
“You can go in and talk to him if you want,” Jim offers, pointing to one of the bays in a row of curtained-off sections of the ER. “I need a little more time before I’m ready to see him. Maybe privacy too. I have a few things to say.”
Why do I feel like I have to apologize for Bryce? I don’t even know the situation yet. Maybe it wasn’t his fault they had to go in and pull him out.
Why would Jim be so mad at him though? He strikes me as a fair person. He wouldn’t act this way for no reason. It’s almost enough to make me mad at Bryce, and I haven’t seen him yet.
But that’s about to change as I reach his curtain and pull it open.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Bryce’s eyes are closed when I enter the curtained-off cubby, and I can’t say I love the effect. If I didn’t know any better …
The opening of his eyes breaks the illusion, and it couldn’t have come at a better time. For a second there, he looked dead, and I’ve already been through enough scares this week.
“Hey you.” He smiles, though there’s definite confusion in the way his forehead furrows. “Why are you here?”
“I …” I feel pretty dumb all of a sudden; that’s for sure. “They said on the news that the injured firefighters were brought here. I couldn’t get ahold of you, and yes, I know now that you would’ve been too busy to answer either way. But still, I wanted to make sure—”
“You were worried about me?”
“Um, yes. Because I figured you were there. And I thought maybe something bad had happened.” I don’t think I’ve ever felt so awkward, and that’s saying something. That’s saying a whole heck of a lot.
His face doesn’t move for what feels like way too long of a time.
“Are you okay? Do you need a doctor?” I ask.
“No.” He smiles wide. “No, I don’t need a doctor. It’s just that you don’t know what it means, having somebody care whether I make it out of a fire. I don’t think I’ve ever had anybody come to the hospital for me.”
“I’m sorry.” Was that the right thing to say? I hope it was the right thing to say.
Why do I still feel so embarrassed and uncomfortable?
Is it because I know how mad Jim is?
Or is it because of the way Bryce’s eyes shine? I didn’t know that no one had checked in on him after a big fire. I don’t even know if he has a lot of friends—real friends, not just random people from the neighborhood.
Though I’m guessing he doesn’t, considering how deeply it touches him that I’m here.
“I was really worried,” I admit, taking a seat next to his bed. “And I heard something out there that worried me even worse.” I jerk a thumb toward the hallway.
“What’d you hear? Is everybody else okay?”
“Oh, sure. Everything’s fine.”
“What did you hear then?”
“I heard you were reckless tonight. Jim’s really upset with you.”
“Wait. He told you that?” Before I know it, Bryce is trying to sit up.
“No, no. I mean, he didn’t tell me personally.” With my hands on his chest, I settle him back down until he’s lying with his head on the pillow. “You should be breathing from the mask, too, instead of leaving it around your neck.”
“I’m fine.”
He glares at the curtain like it’s see-through, like he can glare at his captain. “I can’t believe he has the nerve to talk about me like that. And in front of you! What was he thinking?”
“He was thinking that he was worried about you. He worries a lot, whether or not you know it.” I settle him down again when it looks like he’s getting agitated. “Bryce, please. You have to take it easy after what you went through tonight.”
“Where does he get off though? I need you to go out there and call him in, so we can talk.”
“Not until I say what’s on my mind. I didn’t say anything about this when I first heard about it.”
“What do you mean?”
Great. This is only going to make things worse. “Please, stay calm. Jim cares about you so much. He only wants to keep you safe, and I can understand why. You have to try to understand why too.”
“I’ll decide what I have to try.”
“Okay, okay.” Boy, this is a side of him that seems a lot more familiar than one I’ve seen recently. Angry, bitter. “He told me what led to your commendation. How you could’ve died that day.”
“What would’ve been better?” he demands in a tight whisper. “Letting those kids die? Should I have left them in there, so they could burn to death?”
“Of course not. Nobody thinks that. But you did it at your own risk. You could’ve at least made sure you had your respirator on—just like tonight. Yeah, you gave it to somebody else, so she could use it, but what would’ve happened if she couldn’t get out of the building? What if you’d passed out when you were still too far from the door for her to get out?”
He’s breathing hard through his nostrils, flaring them out. His jaw works as he turns his face away from mine. That’s when I know I’ve hit a nerve.
“You’re a thoughtful person,” I murmur, stroking his hand. “You would’ve already thought about that, wouldn’t you?”
I don’t need an answer. The way he keeps his face turned away tells me everything.
“There’s such a thing as doing too much. Jim only wants to make sure you don’t go too far. Tonight, you got lucky. I would hate to see you not get so lucky next time.”
Kitty Valentine Dates a Fireman Page 13