Dallas Fire & Rescue: Firelighter (Kindle Worlds Novella)

by Jackie Wang

  Text copyright ©2017 by the Author.

  This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Paige Tyler. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original Dallas Fire & Rescue remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Paige Tyler, or their affiliates or licensors.

  For more information on Kindle Worlds: http://www.amazon.com/kindleworlds

  Firelighter

  Jackie Wang

  Contents

  Description

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  Description

  Things were hard after my ex-wife left my six-year-old son and me.

  Things were harder when I had to drop off a teary-eyed Nate on his first day of school.

  And things completely went to hell when his elementary school caught on fire a few hours later, while I was on duty.

  It was every parent’s nightmare. Even as a professional firefighter, I couldn’t help but panic a little.

  Luckily, all the kids and staff were all right.

  My day got even luckier when I met Nate’s new teacher, Winnie, a quirky and extremely brave young woman who managed to get all the kids to safety, including my son.

  Conversation with her came easy, and it was even easier to fall for her honeyed smile and perfect dimples.

  But she was Nate’s teacher, and she was way too young for me.

  I should’ve walked away, defused the entire situation before I got myself in trouble.

  But who in their right mind would willingly walk away from someone like Winnie Williams?

  Firelighter is a short, sweet, instalove single firefighter dad/ teacher romance.

  Chapter 1

  Dominic

  “That—that’s my son’s school,” I stammered, throat bone-dry. The call-out address was my son’s new elementary school, Walnut Hill.

  “Are you sure?” my partner Valerie asked, lacing up her steel-toed boots.

  I nodded, slipping on my heavy firefighter jacket. It felt heavier than usual on my broad shoulders. “Dead sure. I was just there a few hours ago, dropping him off.”

  Val frowned and brushed her index finger under her nose, the way she always did when she was worried. “Damn. Do you still want to—”

  “Of course,” I reassured her, grabbing my helmet. Nate, buddy, hold on. Daddy’s coming for you.

  I tried to keep my face as stoic as possible, but my traitorous heart didn’t lie. It thundered at almost 180 bpm, and I could almost hear the adrenaline and blood whooshing through my ears. Anxiety and heat prickled the tips of my fingers and toes. I itched to make a run for Walnut Hill, with or without my team. I needed to see my son ASAP. The thought of him stranded inside a burning building, in tears, calling out for his daddy was a knife to my heart.

  The equipment bay’s rolling metal doors opened with a clang. After I grabbed my Self Contained Breathing Apparatus (SCBA) and the rest of my gear, I hopped on to the already screaming engine and we were off. Logically, I knew the fastest way to reach my son’s school was to stay onboard the engine. I had absolute trust in Graham, our engineer. He knew Dallas’ streets like the back of his hand. Still, as I bounced up and down in the backseat, I couldn’t help but wish I had wings so I could fly there. We tore down the street, going too fast over a speed bump. I lurched so hard my teeth sank into my tongue and I tasted blood.

  Just hours ago, over a hearty breakfast of bacon and eggs, Nate had voiced his fears.

  What if I get bullied?

  What if the teacher hates me?

  What if I get lost?

  I feel sick, Dad.

  They’ll laugh at me, Dad.

  I’d told my little man, “Don’t worry, buddy, Daddy’s got your back. There’s nothing to be scared about.” Now I felt like a liar and a promise-breaker. Just like my old man.

  Valerie put a reassuring, gloved hand over mine. “Chin up, Dom. I’m sure Nate’s okay. I’m sure all the kids got out safely.” Though she meant well, her words were meaningless syllables echoing through my preoccupied mind. I only had one priority: making sure my son was safe. It was selfish of me, but I didn’t care. Of course, I’d save other rescues if I encountered them, but my number one goal was finding out whether or not my six-year-old was all right.

  As we pulled up to the south side of the school, I could see black tendrils of smoke rising from the north side of the building. Groups of kids had already been evacuated and they were huddled in the field outside, chattering amongst themselves. Most of them appeared calm, even excited that they could skip class and play outside.

  I was used to hearing the high-pitched fire alarm, which would probably make me deaf before I hit fifty, but at that moment, it sounded like a wailing child trapped behind a burning door. My wailing child.

  The Chief issued orders to the attack team. Then he turned to us. “Dom, Val, check for possible rescues,” Chief Tomlison commanded. “East entrance is clear.”

  “Roger that,” Val confirmed.

  “Chief…if possible, can you make sure my son’s all right?,” I asked. “His name is Nathan. Nate.”

  The Chief gave me a curt nod. “I’ll do what I can, Fieri.”

  I grunted and buckled up my helmet, putting down the visor. So far, so good. There was some smoke, but no visible flames. With any luck, it would be a quick and easy call-out. I nodded to Val, and the two of us made our way toward the east entrance. Even though she didn’t say anything, I could tell by Val’s determined facial expression that she wanted to protect the children and staff at all costs. She had three kids of her own, and had strong, protective maternal instincts when it came to all children.

  Hazy white smoke clogged up the hallways, reducing visibility. I clenched my jaw so hard it hurt.

  Had it been only a few hours ago that I’d dropped off Nate on his first day of grade one? He’d been upset because I’d forgotten to pack his favorite Paw Patrol water bottle. I’d realized that was just a front for the real reason he was scared: starting a new school was intimidating for anyone. It didn’t help that he was the shortest kid in the class and naturally introverted. Nate was different, and kids didn’t like different. I’d smoothed the deep wrinkle between his brows and promised that everything would be okay. That school was a safe place where he would make lots of new friends and have a great time. I was a liar. Truth was, even before I gave Nate a kiss goodbye outside the classroom, I had a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. Call it intuition. It was as if I knew something would go wrong. But I’d brushed it off, blaming the queasiness on the takeout tacos I had the night before.

  You couldn’t have known, I reassured myself. But what if my peripheral vision had caught something suspicious? And I’d ignored it?

  I shook my head, as if that could somehow clear my it like an Etch-and-Sketch. Too many goddamn what-ifs pricked me like porcupine quills. Each time I plucked out one barb, three more sprung up to replace it.

  “He’ll be fine,” Val reassured me again. “Looks like all the kids are already outside.”

  “I hope you’re right.” We stalked down the hallway carefully, like two panthers. I had a very sharp sense of he
aring, despite being a firefighter for almost ten years. I didn’t use ear protection as frequently as when I was fresh out of the academy. I regretted that. After all, if I lost my hearing, I would lose my job, too. I had a tendency to be reckless when it came to my health and safety; it was one of my biggest faults.

  Val and I reached the end of the hallway and turned right, following the smoke. It seemed densest near the cafeteria, which made sense. If an accidental fire happened at school, the most likely place would be in the kitchen. I peered through deserted classrooms as we made our way to the cafeteria. They all looked empty. “Anyone here?” I called out each time, just in case a kid was hiding under a table or behind a bookcase.

  No reply.

  I exhaled deeply, relief and calm loosening up my tense muscles. I forced myself to un-hunch my tight shoulders and unlock my jaw.

  Nate was all right, I chanted to myself like a mantra. My little boy is safe.

  Val checked the bathrooms and closets while I performed a thorough search of the remaining classrooms.

  “All clear,” I said.

  “All clear,” Val agreed.

  A small smile cracked over my face. I felt stress draining from me like water from a bathtub.

  I never thought I’d be a helicopter parent until Nate was born with a heart murmur and terrible asthma. Didn’t help that he was also a premie, and needed tubes to breathe for the first two weeks of his life. My ex-wife, Lisa, always treated him like he was made of glass. Never let him play outside with the neighbors. Afraid that a single cut, scrape, bruise or germ would do him in. She’d religiously washed his hands with antibacterial soap up to twenty times a day, and used anti-bac sanitizer and bleach on everything. Kept the house beyond spotless, so much so that it felt like we were always living in a hotel or a hospital. I’d be afraid to step on the carpet she vacuumed twice a day, and scared of disturbing the carefully plumped cushions she arranged on the couch. Her OCD drove me mad, but she just couldn’t help herself. It was a sickness, a mental illness, though she’d never been officially diagnosed.

  And she didn’t believe in vaccinations. God, she was a nutcase. I had to practically kidnap Nate to bring him in for his shots.

  Nate grew up afraid of trying new things, whether it was school, toys, friends or food, he always expected consistency and rejected novelty. In fact, he was perfectly content eating plain rice or pasta every night of the week. He liked to brush his teeth only in clockwise circles. Had to have all his clothes arranged by color and type. Hated it when I re-arranged his books or toys. And he never colored outside the lines.

  Though Nate’s doctor didn’t think this indicated he’d inherited his mother’s OCD tendencies, I was afraid it wouldn’t be long before he turned into a mini Lisa.

  All of which sucked because life would not stay consistent for my boy, and change was coming for him whether he liked it or not.

  After Lisa ran off with her boss, an ex-model from Brazil (a whole other story in itself), all Nate had left was me. I tried to be both Mom and Dad to him, but that didn’t work out so great and I ended up feeling like I had multiple personality disorder. It was too much to juggle for this sleep-deprived single dad slash firefighter. One day I’d be fun dad and let Nate have popsicles before dinner. The next I’d play boring, strict Mom and pile on the rules, snapping when Nate didn’t listen. All that inconsistency only made Nate irritable, confused and prone to obnoxious tantrums, so I stopped trying to overcompensate for Lisa’s abandonment.

  I was just Dad after that. Yes, it sucked that his mom willingly left him. Literally, she flew off to Brazil and never came back. Had the divorce papers faxed over. But Nate and I made it work. We were each others’ rocks.

  I loved being a single dad, despite all the challenges that came with the title. But I also knew that fatherhood had made me vulnerable: Nate was now my everything, and if I ever lost him, I would never recover from the grief. When it came to my little man, he was my weakness and my strength, my frustration and my pride all rolled into one.

  Nate was all right.

  Nate was fine.

  Nate was safe.

  After making sure that all the classrooms had been evacuated, we headed into the cafeteria, where roaring flames licked the stovetop and counters. The windows were all open, and smoke escaped through them, lifted by the wind. Judging by the size of the fire, someone probably thought throwing water on a grease fire was a smart idea. And when that didn’t work, they probably added more water. Val and I were on the search and rescue team, so we didn’t have the equipment to deal with the kitchen fire. Our jobs were to save anyone trapped or left behind. I radioed in what we saw and the attack team reported they were almost there. Val and I moved on to the gym next. It was the last spot we needed to check before leaving through the west entrance.

  The gym was located at the opposite end of the school, and was virtually untouched by smoke. We checked in the equipment room and lockers. They were all empty as well.

  Val and I left through the side exits and emerged out on the field. Despite knowing that no one was left behind, I still wouldn’t rest easy until I saw Nate. I should have introduced myself to Nate’s teacher earlier, but I was running late to work so I didn’t. Now I had no idea which of them was responsible for getting Nate and his classmates to safety. Damn, that was embarassing.

  I scanned the crowd and my gaze landed on a smile that dazzled so hard I had to do a double take. She was about 5’8” in straw-colored wedge sandals, skinny jeans and a light purple v-neck sweater. Her tight auburn curls bounced as she spoke.

  My God she was beautiful.

  A half-peeling sticker on the front of her sweater read: Winnie. She’d dotted her inky ‘i’s with little filled-in stars. It’d been a long time since I met someone with such a wholesome-sounding name.

  I almost wanted to go over there and introduce myself, but I had other priorities. Namely, my son. But as luck would have it, there he was, walking up to Winnie, with a crooked smile on his face. A few smudgy black marks ran along Nate’s apple cheeks, and his hair was disheveled, but other than that, he looked fine.

  “Nate!” I cried. I ran over to my son and gave him a great big squeeze. His clothing smelled faintly of smoke, and my chest ached at my broken promise. Luckily, he didn’t have a single scratch or bruise on him. I’d assured him that school was a fun and safe place. That nothing bad would happen to him. Now I’d lost all credibility in his eyes. After a few more seconds, I peeled Nate off my turn-out gear and mustered up my strongest smile. “You all right, slugger?”

  Nate nodded. “I’m fine. Ms. Williams helped us get outside, single file. She was very calm.”

  “That’s good,” I said, ruffling his hair. “I’m glad you listened to her.”

  Nate squinted up at his teacher. “Ms. Williams, this is my dad, Dom. Daddy, Ms. Winnie Williams.”

  “Just call me Winnie, remember? Ms. Williams is what they call my mom.”

  The worry in my heart quickly melted into relief and then pride as I watched my son make the introductions. Just a few hours ago, he was scared to let go of my hand. Now, standing before me, he already seemed more mature.

  I tugged off my thick gloves and shook Winnie’s hand. “Dominic Fieri.”

  Winnie’s smile widened and she arched her brow a little. “Any relation to Guy Fieri?”

  I shook my head. “No, but I get that a lot.”

  Winnie shot me another one of her honeyed smiles. It’d been a while since I’d seen such a genuine smile. “Listen, Dominic Fieri, I gotta get back to work, and you probably do too. I’ll see you later?”

  “The school…”

  Winnie nodded at the building. Smoke was no longer coming out of it, and I could see the rest of my team coming out. They finished faster than I anticipated. “Looks like school is back in session. No harm, no foul.”

  “The kitchen staff need a little more training though,” I said. “Looks like they tried to put out a grease fire with wate
r. I’ll get the Chief to talk to the Principal about that.”

  “Sounds good.” Winnie beamed at me again, and I never wanted her to stop smiling at me that way. “See you around, Slugger.”

  “See you around,” I agreed.

  Chapter 2

  Winnie

  I watched Dominic Fieri walk back to the fire truck with his bright yellow helmet tucked under his arm. He was a big guy, tall (6’2?), broad-shouldered, with a cheesy smile. Exactly what you imagined a sexy-as-sin firefighter to look like. It was adorable how worried he was over his son. He’d checked every inch of Nate’s skin for bruises and scratches, as if a little scrape would’ve required a trip to the ER.

  Yes, it was unfortunate that something like this would happen on the first day of school. But since no one was hurt, and the fire hadn’t caused too much damage, I wasn’t too worried.

  I was new to Dallas, and hadn’t spoken to anyone other than Principal McCormack since I moved here. I also hadn’t dated or slept with anyone since I started my practicum two years ago. Ergo, I was in the midst of the longest dry spell ever and Dominic Fieri’s sexy husky voice gave me all kinds of goosebumps. I could’ve dated while I was in school, but I was just so focused on work. I wanted to do all the assignments perfectly to stay at the top of the class. I wanted to get my first full-time contract ASAP to start off my career with a bang. While most of the other twenty-six-year-olds in my class were still getting shitty, on-call substitute placements, I had already landed my first full-time placement at Walnut Hill.

  I’d prepped all summer for this day. And as luck would have it, somebody set the kitchen on fire around lunchtime. Before we’d even done our first official fire drill. Of course the kids were confused, a few even panicked. They were six-year-olds who hated loud noises and all twenty-nine pairs of eyes immediately turned to me for direction. The old me might’ve panicked in a situation like this. I wasn’t even sure I knew where the fire exits were. But a fire was no joke. So I told them all to line up, single file, and hold on to each other’s hands. Once I made sure the hallway was clear and relatively smoke-free, I led the kids out the fire exit near the library. I’d almost been home free when one of the smaller kids, Nathan, began hyperventilating and wheezing. I remembered reading something about him having asthma. What a crappy time to have an attack. Luckily, he had his inhaler in his backpack. Unfortunately, his backpack was back inside the classroom. I couldn’t risk bringing all the kids back down the long hallway just to find Nate’s inhaler. So I quickly ushered the rest of the kids downstairs and out onto the field first. I asked the grade two teacher, Ms. Langford, to help me look after them while I went back for the inhaler. She tried to stop me, saying it was too dangerous, and that the paramedics would be there shortly to help the boy. But I estimated that the paramedics were still at least seven or eight minutes out. Given that I used to run track and field and do marathons twice a year, I figured I could be in and out in under three minutes. Assuming I could even find the damn thing.