The Edge of Us (Crash and Burn Book 2)

by Jamie McGuire

  “Is she there? The girl? At the hotel?”

  “Yes, Nomes, she works there.”

  I ribbed him a few times, and when his patience ran out, I threw him a bone. “Good luck, Trex. I hope she’s the one.” I smooched at him and winked, then closed the door behind me, settling into my seat and starting the engine.

  It was then the darkness began to spread in my insides. Trex was going home to who he thought could be the love of his life. I was going home to the quiet, the nothing, and I wasn’t looking forward to it.

  Sloan leaned into my window, both elbows on the ridge of the door. “You okay?”

  I sighed. “Sure.”

  “Seems like the run in with Bennett rattled you a little,” he said.

  I turned off the ignition and sat back. “I don’t get rattled.”

  “Not when you’re getting shot at, but Bennett rattled you.”

  “He…” I hesitated, but Sloan shot me a look, and I knew that he expected me to continue. “I grew up in a militia compound, Sloan. My parents were soldiers 24/7. Mom’s idea of affection was high-fiving me on the gun range. Peter was my comfort, okay?”

  Sloan waited for more.

  I rolled my eyes and sighed. “He was the hug, the soft side that I needed as a kid for a long time. He was my outlet when I wanted to cry. He let me show weakness.”

  “He’s a huge part of your life then? Why didn’t we know about him until now?”

  “Because he was. Was. Our families were the Capulets and Montagues.”

  “Who?”

  “Shakespeare. Romeo and Juliet?”

  Sloan shrugged, clueless.

  “Our dads were enemies. They went toe to toe a lot, being government and militia.”

  Sloan’s face screwed into disgust. “You’d think they’d work together.”

  “Nope.” I sighed. “We snuck around to be together. Peter is my childhood.”

  “So it just never worked out?”

  “When he called to tell me that he was engaged to Paige … all to make his dad happy. To further his career. Not even he wanted to do it, but he still did. It crushed me. Every part of me that Peter brought out shut down.”

  “So that’s why you’re such a hard ass.”

  “He doesn’t get all the credit,” I said.

  “Touché. Well, you ended up with Matt, so it worked out.”

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “Oh, I didn’t mean … shit, Naomi…”

  “It’s fine. See you tomorrow.”

  “Naomi…”

  I backed out and headed home, fighting the urge to turn toward McCormack’s every half mile. The only thing I wanted less than facing the quiet at home was to need a crutch to make it through every tough moment. There was never an answer at the bottom of the bottle anyway.

  chapter four

  oblivion

  Zeke

  “I

  t’s fine,” I said, wincing when Jubal held an ice pack against my eye. His silver hair was mashed on one side, a tell-tale sign that my shenanigans had woken my captain up—again.

  “You’re lucky the Maddox boys were elsewhere, Zeke. We could’ve been a quarter of a crew down because you were all in jail.”

  “But we’re not.”

  “All over a girl.”

  I glared up at him. “There were two.”

  “But you weren’t trying to impress Reese.”

  “That’s not it. It was just the right thing to do.”

  “Explain that to the brass and see how far that gets ya,” Jubal said, putting my hand on the ice pack and walking away. “We’re on the mountain in twelve hours. Get some rest.”

  “Yep,” I said, swinging my legs onto the mattress. “Wait,” I said, sitting up. “It’s our turn already? I thought we were like fifth in line?”

  “Just a day job, cleaning up.”

  I let my head fall to the pillow. “Damn it, Jubal, we’ve got ground crew for that.”

  “Wind’s being a bitch. They need us there for pop ups.”

  I nodded. “Can you hit the light?”

  The room went black, and I tried to imagine anything else but Naomi, the woman who fought like Rocky and looked like Mila Kunis and Michelle Rodriguez had a baby.

  ***

  Five a.m. came quick, and Jubal was as unhappy as the chief to see my eye still swollen.

  “The fuck is that?” Chief asked. I leaned back when he went to touch it. He pulled back his hand. “Tell me that wasn’t in town. And that no cops were called.”

  “Nothing to worry about, Chief,” Jubal chimed in. “All taken care of.”

  Chief nodded once, then turned to address our crew. “Wind kicked up some embers. It’s not our tour, but we’re helping to stamp out spot fires. We’ve got a twelve-mile hike to the black, so load up. I want to be at fire camp by sunrise.”

  We climbed into the crew buggies, riding in near silence until Taylor switched places with Watts and nudged me. “What happened to you?”

  “McCormick’s Pub. Some douchebags were being disrespectful.”

  Watts smiled. “Turns out she could’ve taken them all. She just about did if Zeke hadn’t got in her way. She kinda fights like you, Maddox.”

  Tyler turned to me, his brows creating deep lines on his forehead. He prided himself on being unbeatable. “Who’s this?”

  “A girl. Fuck off, you’ve got one,” I said.

  “Everyone but the driver,” Fish laughed.

  Tyler jerked up his chin once to get my attention. “She’s a bad ass, huh?”

  “I think she’s married,” I said.

  The guys let out a collection groan of disappointment.

  “What about the blonde at the desk? Darcy?” Taylor asked.

  “Darby,” I said. “She’s sweet.”

  “You’ve got competition,” Sugar said. “I’ve seen that Trex guy eyeing her.”

  “Don’t we hate him?” Runt asked from the back.

  The Maddoxes were both frowning.

  When the buggy began to bounce and the engine noise turned up a notch, I knew we were close to fire camp. The driver slowed to a stop and called for us to bail, so Sugar opened the door, and we filed out. I grabbed my chainsaw, Ragnar, wrapped it quickly, and carried it over my shoulder—motor up—in one hand, my Pulaski axe in the other hand.

  The returning hotshots walked to fire camp in a line, their faces streaked with soot and sweat, their shoulders sagging from exhaustion.

  “Who’s that?” Runt asked.

  “The Geronimo Hotshots,” Tyler said. “Those guys are Apaches.”

  “No shit? Like for real? All of ‘em?” Runt asked. He was the youngest of us, and the youngest Chief had hired for the Alpines. He had big shoes to fill, but he was a natural swamper—a partner to clean up after the chainsaw-swinging sawyers, and he was willing to do whatever it took to pull his weight.

  “For real,” Taylor said.

  The fresh team was already loaded up in the helo to be dropped off as close as the wind would allow, but we would be hiking in.

  Bobby, the new helo pilot, waved to me as he lifted his machine in the air. I nodded up once, glad he was there.

  We waited quietly while the chief spoke with one of the brass. Jubal was already frowning, disagreeing about something, pointing to the mountain.

  “Well, fuck. That doesn’t look good,” Pup said.

  “Shut your hole,” Tyler said. “We go where we’re told.”

  Pup nodded once.

  Chief shook his head then walked over to where we were gathered. “Six minutes for safety,” he announced. We circled around him for the safety briefing.

  Chief had to talk over the blades of the helo whipping up the wind and ground behind us. “Nineteen clicks to the first black. Aerial Detection reports four pop ups at last count. Aerial Recon reports that the northeast pop up is an active crown fire. Keep your eyes open and radios on. We’ve
got to stay ahead and behind this time. Any questions?”

  We shook our heads, then Chief led us past fire camp up a trail the line of returning hotshots had just come down.

  “Hey,” Watts said, catching up to me. “Did you get a chance to call Jenn?”

  I shook my head. “It just freaks her out. I only call before every other or every third tour now. Lots of calls in-between.”

  “What did your sister think about that veggie casserole?”

  “She liked it.”

  “How’s she liking college? Still hating it?”

  “She’s better now.”

  “What about—”

  “Watts?” I said.

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m on the job. Shut the fuck up.”

  “You got it.”

  We continued up the trail, the tops of the mountains hiding above a veil of smoke. The Aspens were green, their leaves blowing in the same gentle breeze that could get any crew up here killed. The smell of smoke was already heavy, overwhelming the wildflowers and the crisp mountain air with the stench of death. Trees, animals, insects—everything that was once thriving and growing—instantly bursting into flames, withering, and burned to a crisp. Fire was loud, sucking all the oxygen, heat creating wind, a living, sentient being growing with every victim it consumed.

  We were here to stop it, to strangle the flames slowly, to save whatever was left by standing between life and death. That seemed normal to me. I’d been living in oblivion my entire existence.

  Nineteen of us completed nearly twenty klicks before we stopped for water and found a high point for Chief and Jubal to scout a good spot for us to dig in.

  “Black there,” Chief said, pointing out the crispy remains. Spot fires at two and three o’clock, five and eight. “Jubal and Bucky, take your team to the back.” He pointed to the first captain, Fish. “Your team’s at two o’clock.” He pointed to Sage. “Take your guys to the three o’clock. Sawyers and swampers on the canopy.” He pointed to me. “Your guys with me. Slick, your team’s at three.” Taylor, Runt, Puddin’ and I stayed with Chief.

  I adjusted my pack, tossed my chainsaw onto the other shoulder, and checked that my drip torch was secure. Chief frowned at the darkening sky and the steep ridge ahead. I knew exactly what he expected of us. Taylor, Runt, Puddin’ and I were quickest with the saws.

  Everyone had been trained, they knew what to do, and most times we did it without being told or communicating at all. I was five trees in when I heard Chief yelling over the radio.

  “No, damn it! I said quadrant four!”

  Chief motioned for us to run, and we sprinted north, a helo dropping red sludge where we were just standing. Half of us dove out of the way. Getting hit with the fire retardant from that height and speed wasn’t fun and working soaked in that shit wasn’t either.

  The chief was yelling a string of expletives into the radio, and we regrouped.

  “We’ll have this one snuffed out by noon, and we can help the others,” Taylor said.

  I ripped Ragnar’s pull cord and got back to work.

  Another tree went down, and I took off my helmet and wiped my brow, looking up at the smoke lingering above us. The wind had changed a little

  “Get that helmet on, Zeke!” Chief barked.

  Just as I followed his order, a large branch cracked, the noise splitting the air around us, and my line of sight connected the impact point to where Chief was standing.

  “Chief, move!” Taylor yelled.

  I took off in a sprint, my strides twice as long to make it in time. I dove for the second time that morning, this time tackling Chief to the ground. He landed flat on his back, the huge branch hitting just inches from the soles of my boots. I rolled off, looking up at the haze above.

  Chief groaned, the air knocked out of him.

  “You all right?” I asked.

  Taylor, Puddin’, and Runt ran up to us.

  “Holy shit!”

  “You okay?”

  “That was a close one!”

  Chief struggled to get to his feet, forbidding any of us to help. “Thanks,” he grumbled. “I’ve thought about going out lots of ways. Smashed by a tree branch the size of my mother-in-law wasn’t one of them.”

  I breathed out a laugh, and Taylor, Runt, and Puddin’ laughed so hard they were grabbing their knees.

  “All right, all right. Back to work,” Chief said, hobbling to a new spot.

  “Hey,” I said, patting him on the shoulder. “Are you really okay?”

  “Going to be sore as shit tomorrow,” he grumbled. He looked up at me, the hardness gone from his eyes. “You just saved my life.”

  I watched his focus return to the job, and I smiled at him for just a few seconds longer before going back to mine. Saving lives was part of the description for a thankless job, but keeping each other safe was what kept us coming back season after season.

  “Zeke,” Chief called back. “Thank you.”

  Well. Not thankless after all.

  chapter five

  shook

  Zeke

  B

  rad and Jenn smiled back at me from the iPad display, their happiness to check in with me frozen for a minute while the shit service found its way back to our barracks.

  Jenn’s tan from their weekend at Tybee Island made her eye makeup seem to glow. Even with bright pink lipstick, her smile was sweet.

  “I think we froze again,” Jenn said just before their image began trying to keep up with the sound.

  “Can you hear us, Zeke?” Brad asked.

  “Yeah, loud and clear. Sorry about that,” I said.

  “They’re not working you to death, are they?” Jenn asked, two small lines forming between her brows. She fluffed her golden, already poufy curls that complemented Brad’s circa 1992 beige silk button-down. They were both stuck in that decade, and I loved it.

  I rubbed the back of my neck. The truth was, the job was physically exhausting, and it could very well mean death, but I couldn’t tell her that. Jenn had spent her time making sure I survived my teen years. Now that I was an adult, she hadn’t learned to let that go.

  Brad didn’t require being shielded from the truth because he was a firefighter too. Even though I was a hotshot fighting wildfires, the risk was the same. Brad just didn’t have to hike up mountains to get to work every day.

  “You look skinny, Zeke. Does he look skinny to you?” Jenn asked her husband.

  “I’m fine, Jenn,” I said, amused. “I always start thinning out this time of year.”

  “Fire season has barely started,” she said.

  “Conditioning, you know that,” Brad said, nudging her playfully with his elbow.

  “I’ve worried about you since the day you walked through our door,” Jenn said.

  “And I love you for it,” I said.

  Jenn seemed sad, turning to look at Brad. “Do you remember how gangly he was? Skin and bones and teeth and pissed at the world.” She looked at me. “Thirteen.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said, trying to stay focused. I’d heard the story so many times, but she loved to tell it.

  “You’ve been with us since you were thirteen, and still it’s like you’ve always been part of our family. And if anything happened to you…”

  “Jenn. Like you said, it’s not even fire season yet. Give it a week or two before you form a stress-induced ulcer.”

  “Okay, I’ll change the subject,” she said. “Have you heard from Gabby?”

  “The flight attendant? Not for a year,” I said with a chuckle.

  She didn’t think it was as funny as I did. She started to speak again but was cut off.

  “Who is that?” a voice called from the hallway. “Is that Zeke?” Footsteps piled into Brad and Jenn’s bedroom.

  My sister Kara poked her head into view. “Zekers!”

  “Hey!” I smiled.

  “Yeah, thanks for stopping by bef
ore you reported in,” Oliver said. “When can you come back?”

  My foster siblings stood behind him, all with big grins on their faces.

  “After the season’s over. Did Sam get to Maryland all right?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Jenn said with a sad smile. “He’s all settled in and loves his new job. They’ve got a great apartment.”

  Brad chuckled. “What we do for the women we love.”

  Oliver rolled his eyes. “Dumb.”

  From them on, my siblings took over the conversation as they always did—which was why Brad and Jenn snuck away for a few minutes to chat with me before they were found. They talked over each other to fill me on their summers, who was swimming, who was fighting, dating. Our family was big and crowded, loud and full of love. No one had ever made me feel the way Brad and Jenn and my brothers and sisters had. Sometimes it felt like they’d loved me before I’d even come into their home, but still, it wasn’t home. As many times as I’d tried to shove it down into the big black hole I’d created as a young child, the need to belong was still there.

  “When are you going to bring a girl home, Zeke?” Kara asked.

  My eyebrows shot up. “Me? Uh … that’s a good question. I dunno. Not exactly on my radar for the next eight or so months.”

  “He’s still stuck on you-know-who,” Kara said, unimpressed.

  My heart panged in my chest as I tried to laugh it off. “Becca? Definitely not.”

  “Sure,” Kara teased.

  “We were kids. That’s over,” I said.

  “Okay, kids, leave Zeke alone or he won’t call home anymore,” Brad said. He leaned toward the camera. “Have you met anyone?”

  “I…” I began. I winced before saying the words, closing one eye—as if that would make it easier. “I did meet a girl the other night.”

  Brad and Jenn traded glances. I could tell Jenn was trying to keep her excitement inside.

  “Is it the same girl from the hotel?”

  “No, that’s Darby, and she’s a friend.”

  “Where did you meet her?” Brad asked.

  I chuckled. “The bar. But she’s … different.”

  “He has that look,” Kara said.

  “No look,” I said.