Hearts on Fire

by Amber Thielman

  “He-he’s-three.”

  “You must be a really great big sister,” I said. The metal on top of my body pushed into my back and lungs, and a searing pain zipped from my neck and down to the tips of my toes; toes on a foot I could no longer feel. I closed my eyes, praying to a god I didn’t believe in that the both of us would get out of this alive...especially her. I squeezed Ann-Marie’s hand, fighting for breath. None came.

  “I’m mean to him,” she said quietly. “I wish I wasn’t so mean to him.”

  “Well, I guess when you see him in a few minutes you can redeem yourself, right?” I said, and Ann-Marie nodded frantically. A dull, throbbing pain simmered down my back. I opened my mouth to say something else when a loud crash like rolling thunder rattled though the car, and it dropped a few more inches. Ann-Marie screamed, a real, true, terrified, pain-filled scream that pierced its way into my eardrums and echoed in my head. Glass cut into my body, slicing small, clean cuts into the skin on my arms, neck, and face.

  This is it, I thought, a blanket of panic sweeping over me. Jeremy was right, this is how I’m going to die.

  As soon as the thought entered my head, the metal groaned again. I waited for the final push against my spine, when the SUV would drop, killing us both, hopefully instantly. But it didn’t come. Instead, much to my frantic relief, it went up again, an inch, and then another. Ann-Marie was still sobbing, but I think she knew that we were being saved because her grip on my hand loosened, just slightly, and she held her breath to listen. So did I.

  The girl kept hold of my hand until the SUV was at least two feet above us. A mere second later I was joined by a middle-aged woman in a white coat, sliding her way in beside me.

  “Are you okay?” she asked me. “Are you hurt?”

  “I’m fine.” I sucked in a deep breath of air, filling my lungs with sweet, fresh oxygen. “Take care of her.”

  “I’m Doctor Hanson, Ann-Marie. We’re going to get you out of here.” She shot a look at me and smiled gratefully, reaching for her trauma bag. “Thank you very much, Miss Harper. I think we’ve got it from here.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay? I—” on the other side of the vehicle, one of our guys in a suit pushed himself up to the other side of Ann-Marie to free her from the wreckage with an electric saw. It was Kyle.

  “Go,” he said, and smirked. “People are worried.”

  Reluctantly, I untangled my hand from Ann-Marie—who was watching Kyle work, slightly more settled—and slid out from under the SUV, allowing the trauma doc access. Tate was standing there when I got to my knees. He grabbed me by the arm before I could even push myself up, hauling me to his side. Then, in an unexpected moment of weakness, he pulled me into his arms and held me, tight against him, until once again I could barely breathe. My legs shook like Jell-O, and my ribs hurt from where the metal had pushed into me, but I was alive.

  “Jesus Chris, Hallie,” he said. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

  “It’s okay,” I whispered, my words muffled by the wrong of his shirt. “I’m okay.”

  Still, he held me, like if he let me go I’d fall into a black hole of nothingness. I tried to poke my head up and look around to see who might be staring at us, but if anyone was, Tate didn’t seem to notice or care. We were past the formalities, it seemed, and that was fine with me. Walking out of that alive was all I could have asked for, and being in Tate’s arms was the best place to be.

  “I’m not sure why you feel the need to do exactly the things I tell you not to do.” Tate’s handsome face flourished with a florid pink, his lips pressed into a firm line. He helped me back to the ambulance for an unnecessary look-over, arm still holding me close, molding my body into his.

  “I couldn’t leave her,” I said. “She was terrified.”

  “You could have died. Again.”

  “So could she.” I pulled myself away from his embrace and rolled my shoulders back to ease the tension in my neck. An incoming headache pulled at the fibers in my brain and I squeezed my eyes shut. “It doesn’t matter, I didn’t save her life anyway.”

  Tate stuffed the trauma bag back into the bus compartment with more force than the task deserved and shook his head. His knuckles appeared white from where he’d been holding onto me.

  “Actually,” he said. “You did, Hallie. You really did.”

  Once mom, son, and daughter were on their way to the hospital for further evaluation, we made our way back to the station, feeling pretty good about the outcome. Kyle apologized, barley just once, about almost letting the SUV crush us both to death, but I took what I could get and told him it was okay, that he’d have to put up with me a little while longer. Jake Finn and Ty Morton were on duty when we got back, and they smiled brightly in my direction. Jake stood to meet me.

  “Hallie!” he called, and raised his hand to wave in my direction, halting me. I hesitated outside the door, kicking off the heavy work boots. Jake jogged over and walked with me to the kitchen, his freckly face grinning with anticipation. “How are you feeling? We listened to the whole thing on the radio. I thought you were a goner.”

  “Me too.”

  “You have bruises on your face,” he pointed out. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Never better, Finn.” I smiled and winked. “So what’s up?”

  “I saw your ad for a roommate,” Jake said. “Are you still looking for someone to move in?”

  “Um. Yes.” For some reason, I’d never even considered Jake. I didn’t even know anything about his current living situation.

  “My roommate is graduating,” Jake said breathlessly. “And when he moves, our lease is up on the student housing. I still have another year of school. I’d love to talk to you about rooming at your place.”

  “No talk necessary,” I said with a warm smile. Jake was a friend, a good friend, and I adored the kid. If I had to choose between him and a stranger, I knew my decision. “Thanks for being my new roomie.”

  Chapter 31

  Tate

  For the rest of the day, every time I saw Hallie my throat tightened with a burning, painful need to protect her. The thought of losing her from my life was too much to handle. I wanted to scream at her, to shout and shake her until some sense knocked loose in her brain and planted itself firmly in her frontal lobe. Her need for adrenaline, her drive to save everyone around her, to fix what was broken, was getting out of hand. After the breakup, it seemed to be getting worse. It enraged me and scared the shit out of me at the same time. One of these times, Hallie was going to get killed. The worst part was, I don’t think she cared.

  After dinner, I grabbed some headphones and headed downstairs to work out. Hallie, to my surprise, was already down there, finishing up what looked like a brutal workout on the weights. Her skin flushed red, and tiny beads of sweat ran from her forehead and down into her eyes. Even now, dressed in work sweats and a tank top, flyaway hairs in her face, she was magnificent.

  “Oh, sorry,” I said, feeling suddenly stupid. “I hope I’m not interrupting.” She chuckled and wiped the sweat from her neck with a towel, brown hair bobbing in a ponytail.

  “It’s the whole station’s gym,” she said with a shrug. “The other guys refuse to workout with me because I make them watch Keeping Up with the Kardashians reruns.”

  “Well, lucky for you, Khloe K. and I are best friends.”

  “I would have figured you more for a Kim girl,” Hallie teased. She tossed the dirty towel into the hamper and walked closer to me, leaning down to gather her water bottle and extra scrunchie. As she stood back up, I stepped forward until we were face-to-face, mere inches from each other. I couldn’t help myself. The fear and desire I’d been experiencing since the call out this morning brewed inside me like a latent volcano. For a moment, Hallie’s breath caught in her throat, her eyes searching my face as though looking for any emotion she could grab onto and run with it.

  “Should you be working out so hard after all that?” I asked, fingers twit
ching to reach up and touch the pink hues on her cheeks.

  “Tate,” she said, and her fingers started to reach for my face. In a split second, she caught herself and started to turn away. I grabbed her and pulled her back, my hand almost grabbing her with a compulsion of its own, pulling her chin to mine to rest my lips on hers.

  She was hungry for me, her tongue slipping between my teeth as I pulled her body close to mine. She moaned, one hand running up the side of my head, tangling her fingers in my hair. I pulled her even tighter against me, my hand exploring the slope of her dainty back all the way down to curve of her firm bottom. She reached down, one hand inching my stomach towards my growing erection. At the very last minute, she pulled away, shoving me away from her, steading herself on the counter behind her.

  “Tate—”

  “I know what you’re going to say,” I reached for her and pulled her back into me, fingers interlacing with hers. “But don’t say it. I’m going to end it. I’m going to end it with Julia.”

  “But when?” Hallie asked. She dropped her hands from mine and looked down on them in shame. “Oh, God, Tate, what are we doing? You can’t leave Julia. She loves you.”

  “I know.” I took her hands again in mine, squeezing them. “And I loved Julia, once upon a time. I’m a loyal man, Hal, and I’ve been loyal, and so has she, despite us growing apart.” I hesitated, a lump rising in my throat. “I can’t keep my mind off you, okay? It was a mistake to kiss you, I know, and unfair to Julia. I know that. But—I can’t keep my mind off you.”

  Hallie swallowed, brushing a strand of loose hair behind one ear. She chewed at her bottom lip, eyes wavering over my face for a long time before she spoke.

  “End it with Julia. Be fair to her.” She straightened her tank top and cleared her throat before grabbing the fallen hair scrunchy from the floor. Then she walked around me, careful not to touch me. At the foot of the stairs, she looked back at me. “Just make sure that this is what you want.”

  Chapter 32

  Hallie

  Jake moved in the next weekend, and it was smooth sailing from there. He was a good roommate, decent and clean, and a hoot to know. Since we had recently been switched to alternating shifts, we rarely saw each other anyway, but I think that was okay with the both of us.

  I adored his company, and it kept me from mulling over Tate.

  Saturday night, I was in the mood to celebrate. We’d had a good week at the station, six good saves and only one loss. While I hadn’t heard anything from Tate regarding Julia, I didn’t bother asking. Whatever the answer would have been, it would have broken my heart just the same. Avoiding each other was easier.

  “I’m going out!” I called to Jake. He poked his head out of the bathroom and gave me thumbs up. “Where are you going?”

  “The Tavern. For a drink and some pool. Wanna come?”

  “X-Box and pizza is calling my name.” He shook his head. “Have fun.”

  I grabbed my keys from the hook on the door and drove to the little bar down the road, the one where all my crew frequented. They were all working tonight, however, so I figured I’d have to make an attempt at making new friends, not that it would do me any good. I finally had friends, for the most part, and they were all I needed.

  I parked behind the alleyway in the off-street parking lot behind the tavern and shrugged on my jacket before making my way towards the bar. Gravel crunched beneath my feet, and a cold chill in the air bit at the bare skin on my neck. I shivered, turning into the alleyway to get to the entrance of the bar, shoving my hands deep into my pockets.

  The first hit came from behind, catching me off guard. It was as though a freight train had smashed me square in the back, leaving me on my knees in the gravel, gasping for breath. Before I could even make sense of it, the tip of a steel-toed boot connected with my ribs, catching me at just the right angle so I flipped to the side, broken glass and gravel etching their way into the uncovered skin of my arms and face.

  Standing over me, hovering, was a douchebag with his hood drawn up over his head and a wrap around his face, covering most of his features. As I sucked in a breath, wincing, and tried to roll onto my knees, he kicked me again. This time, when I fell, the crack of my ribs was painfully loud. A searing pain like that of a sledgehammer to the skull seared through my body, and this time I couldn’t catch my breath at all. Frantically, I tried to push myself away from the attacker, but with every inch of movement my body screamed in pain, resisting my getaway. As I waited for the next hit, closing my eyes so I wouldn’t see it coming, my attacker’s face was suddenly near my own; I smelled the chewing tobacco and menthol before he spoke.

  “Consider this your final warning,” the voice hissed. One hand reached out and grabbed me by the collar of my shirt, yanking me closer to him. I cringed. “Leave the squad. You’re not welcome there, Dyke.”

  Chapter 33

  Tate

  “Do you need a cab?”

  “I can’t leave my car here,” Julia said. She sounded annoyed that I’d even suggested it.

  “Let me drive you home.”

  “I don’t need your charity.”

  We were sitting inside the bar, finishing a drink. Julia rummaged through her purse for her keys, swaying as she released a string of profanities that would make a sailor blush. It had been over a week; a mere week since I’d ended things with Julia, and she was still just as pissed now as she had been then. I couldn’t blame her, not even a little bit. I was a fucking dick, and she had every right in the world to hate me.

  As she stepped around me, I got to my feet and followed her, tossing some cash onto the counter for the tab. Outside, it was drizzling, a chilly breeze in the air around us. Julia hiked up her jacket around her chin and shivered.

  “I can’t let you drive like this,” I said. She ignored me, shoving the key into the door’s lock. It was the wrong one. She cursed.

  “Piss off, Tate. Haven’t you done enough already?”

  “Jules, stop.”

  “I said piss off!” She wheeled around, eyes burning, nostrils flaring. The keys were gripped in her fingers, clenched, digging into the palm of her hand as she stared at me, ready to fight tooth and nail. I took a step back in case she started swinging at me. As she turned back around to get into the car, I grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back, wrestling for the keys. She shrieked something, clawing at the air, but I held on. Apparently, her desire to “just talk” had turned into nothing more than a drunken escapade. It had been a bad idea coming here.

  “I hate you!” she screamed. “I fucking hate you.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “I hate you.” She collapsed in my arms, her anger turning to quiet sobs of hurt and turmoil. Tears stained her cheeks as she cried in my shirt and her fist clutched desperately around the fabric.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Julia,” I said. “I would never intentionally do this.”

  “Why her?” Julia asked. When she looked up at me, her cheeks were stained with mascara. “Why her? Why Hallie?”

  “I don’t know why. I’m sorry.”

  While she cried, I pulled out my cell-phone and called her an Uber, tucking the keys safely back into her purse so she’d have them tomorrow. She picked herself up and leaned against the car, frantically wiping mascara from her cheeks. She looked terrible, but I didn’t look much better.

  “Did you ever love me?” she asked. “At all?”

  I looked at her and reached over, resting my hand on her arm. “I loved you so much, Julia, but I don’t think the last few years have been the greatest for us.”

  She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with cool air, and then looked away from me, nodding.

  “I know,” she said quietly. “I—I know.”

  Nothing else needed to be said, and I put her in the car a few minutes later and watched her leave before heading back into the bar for another drink, so I could mope in my own little world of self-pity and regret.

&nb
sp; It was around two -thirty in the morning when I’d figured it would be an excellent idea to head home and sleep off the inevitable hangover.

  Most of the night owls had cleared out, leaving me and one or two stragglers sitting pathetically up at the bar, noses in our drinks, head in our hands. I closed my eyes, thinking of Hallie, wishing she was there with me now, the softness of her hand holding mine, squeezing with desperation. I considered calling her, just to hear her voice, but the image of Julia’s face popped into my mind, and guilt tugged at the strings of my heart. I couldn’t bring myself to force Hallie’s company, not when another broken woman was home, shattered and alone. If things were meant to be, they would play out that way.

  I threw a wad of bills down on the counter for the bartender and gathered up my coat, not as drunk as I wanted to be but buzzed enough that I cared just a little less. As I turned to leave, the front door swung open, the bell tingling obnoxiously in the still air around me. No one bothered to turn around, and it took me a moment to digest what I was seeing.

  Hallie stood at the door, perched unsteadily on the line between inside and out. A cool breeze wafted in from behind her, ruffling her hair—hair that was streaked with blood, dirt, and grime. She was hunched over, one arm wrapped around her midsection, holding tight as though afraid to let go. Her lip was busted and swollen, bare arms streaked with dried blood and dirt.

  “Jesus.”

  It was an all too familiar scene, one I’d witnessed too many times before. Only, this time, it wasn’t a strange woman standing in front of me; it was Hallie. For a moment, I couldn’t move forward, couldn’t react. It wasn’t until she took one step and nearly doubled over that reality jerked me back. I caught her before she fell, securing one arm behind her, and gripped her hand with the other.

  “Christ,” I said, holding her up. “Can someone call an ambulance?”