by T Gephart
Ugh, the question I assumed would come up at some point. It was a little hard to dress up my job and make it sound impressive, which is why I just went with the truth. “I’m a sales associate at Target. And do some medical transcription at home. It pays the bills.” My habit of justifying my work still making its way out of my mouth even though I’d been more confident lately.
“Well, I sure as hell wouldn’t turn down that discount.” She shrugged, lowering two highball glasses on the bar. “I can’t go into the place without spending like a hundred bucks. Last week I went in for a throw rug and ended up with a cart full of stuff I didn’t need. Oh, and I totally forgot the throw rug so had to go back.”
“Oh, trust me, it’s worse when you work there. I see everything when it comes in. How I make any money at all is a mystery,” I laughed, watching her thank the bartender but letting him know she was fine to make our drinks.
It was nice to see, the staff being treated with respect instead of snapped at with demands. I’m sure they appreciated it too, the bartender smiling broadly at Presley before returning to slicing lemons.
“They have a lot of respect for you. Lots of bosses would have sat down, asked for drinks, not caring about what they had to get done.” I nodded to the bartender who’d moved onto limes. “I bet they love working here.”
Presley looked over at her bartender, his knife working steadily as he ignored us. “It’s not hard to treat people with respect. And just because I have a degree doesn’t make me any more important than any of them. You can replace a club manager fairly easily, but good staff are hard to find. The place would fall in a heap. And I’m not above making my own drinks. I said I wouldn’t make them for misogynistic assholes, but for us is a different story.” She grinned as she poured in vodka, topping up with soda from a bar gun and then dropping in some of the freshly cut lime.
“So tell me, Hayden. You like working at Target? And I say that with no judgment. But I did warn you I was going to pry, and I get the feeling it wasn’t the dream job you had in mind.” She moved the drink closer to me, the interrogation having already started.
I sighed, wishing I had a better answer. “I dropped out of college my second year, and kind of got stuck. I’ve waitressed, worked in bars, but retail hours are more reliable, and no one tries to grab my ass.”
The drink was perfect, not too heavy on the vodka, the lime adding a splash of citrus. “Wow, this is really good.”
“Thanks, but it’s hard to mess up a lime, vodka and soda. I leave all the fancy stuff to the professionals. And you still haven’t answered my question. All you did was justify why you’re there.”
She was right about that. I hadn’t answered whether I was happy, or what I’d rather be doing. Instead, giving her the explanation of why I wasn’t doing something better. “It’s okay. Am I happy? No, not really, but I’d be less happy if I was unemployed and living on the streets. Given a choice—and if I had a chance to go back and finish my degree—I’d probably go into compliance. Risk assessment. That kind of thing. It might sound boring—and my younger self would be horrified—but it’s what I’m good at. Organizing comes naturally to me, my manager usually gets me to do the displays or rearrange the shelves when things aren’t working. I can look at something and see a problem, even if there’s no code violation. It’s weird, but mentally I assess the environmental factors, the foot traffic, the store layout, and it all comes together. And I’m good at remembering things, and learning on the fly, which is why I do so well with my transcriptions. I haven’t been to medical school, but I could give you a step-by-step account of what is required for a triple bypass, who needs to be notified, and the procedure to file with the insurance.”
“It’s not too late,” Presley lifted her glass and took a sip. “You could take night classes. Online colleges.”
I laughed, the idea of me studying after all those years almost ridiculous. “Or I could stay at Target and keep my amazing discount.”
“True, but if you ever change your mind, decide you want to do something else? Give me a call. No one says you have to stay on the road you’re on, just remember that.”
My smile tightened, feeling slightly more exposed than I would have liked. It wasn’t that I was offended, more that the whole idea seemed overwhelming. I’d known what it had taken when Cooper had gone back, and I’d been ten years younger then. Anyway, it didn’t matter, I’d never be able to afford the tuition, and probably wouldn’t qualify for student loans.
“So if you’re allowed to pry, then I am too,” I said, lifting my glass. “What do you know about Mack’s ex-wife?”
Deep down I knew I shouldn’t be asking, or at the very least talk to Mack about it. But I was curious, wanting to know what she was like from someone who didn’t have a vested interest. And yeah, I wanted to know what kind of woman would toss away a man like Mack. Because no matter which way I looked at it, it didn’t make sense.
Presley screwed up her face in disgust. “Melinda? Enough to know she’s bad news. In any case, you’re here and she isn’t, so I wouldn’t worry about her.”
It was good advice, which I probably shouldn’t have needed. Mack would’ve mentioned if she was still calling and I didn’t want to seem like the insecure needy girlfriend who didn’t trust him. I did. I totally trusted him. But something told me I shouldn’t trust her.
Moving the conversation along to something more pleasant, Presley asked about Ava. Riley had sent everyone a photo with details, but Mack and I were lucky enough to see her firsthand. “God, she’s gorgeous,” I gushed, unable to describe her any other way. “Not that there was any doubt given her parents, but she was so incredibly sweet.”
I’d been desperate to hold her but didn’t want to intrude, figuring demanding a cuddle when I barely knew her parents was highly inappropriate. And I knew Mack was probably worried, catching the concerned glances even though he was trying to hide them. He probably assumed being so close to a baby would set off some deep-seated depression, like the smell of a baby could stir up post-traumatic stress. And maybe it did hurt, the longing in my heart a little harder seeing it up close, but I’d never begrudge anyone for having something I didn’t.
“You going to be okay around here for a bit by yourself?” Presley asked, hesitating at the bar. “I have some meetings I need to take, but it shouldn’t take too long. I can come and chat in between my tasks until Mack gets back.”
I nodded, having no expectations of her sitting around entertaining me. After all, I knew she had to work. “Of course, I’m fine. And thanks so much for the drink. If I’m not going to be in the way, I’d love to just hang around. I’d rather wait in here than sit at the stationhouse.”
My eyes floated to the stunning purple walls, the contrasting matte silver columns and bar lacked the tackiness of most clubs, playing off the blacker-than-black floor. It was beautiful, classy, and decadent all at the same time. And maybe I’d been desensitized or somehow brainwashed, because spending time in Diablo didn’t seem like it would be a hardship.
“You’re welcome to stay as long as you like, and I don’t blame you. That place is made for function but isn’t as sexy as Diablo. I totally picked the color scheme, the designer almost having a heart attack.” She threw her head back and laughed.
Then taking her drink and instructing her bartender to look after me if I needed anything, she disappeared to the back of the club where I assumed her office was.
Despite being alone at the bar, I didn’t feel lonely or weird, enjoying my drink as the bartender fixed me another without even asking.
“Probably should slow down on these,” I lifted the vodka, soda and lime to my lips and took another sip. “I’m not sure how long I’m going to be waiting around, and I’m a lightweight. I’m Hayden, by the way.”
“Hank,” he grinned. “And it took you almost an hour to get through the last one, so I think you’re safe from being drunk.”
“An hour?” I asked, not realizing it
had been that long. “It hadn’t seemed like that long.”
“Yep, the boss just finished her staff meeting with the front of house and we’re opening soon. You seemed like you were in your own world, so I didn’t want to disturb you.”
A stupid grin spread across my face, most of the hour spent thinking about Mack. which was probably why I hadn’t realized it had been so long. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to be rude.”
“No need for apologies. Whatever you were thinking about must have been good.” Hank winked. “Enjoy your drink.”
I checked my phone, looking to see if I had any missed calls or unread texts. But there was nothing, no activity at all on my cell with the reception down to an intermittent one bar. Like an idiot, I waved it in the air, as if tilting it in a different direction would give me better service.
“You need to head to the back end of the club.” Hank nodded to the phone in my hand. “These walls are lead-lined, makes it hard to get a signal. Or if you need to make a call, you can slip out the side exit. It’s where the staff sneak out for cigarettes, so you’ll be able to get back in.”
I lowered my phone, shoving it back in my bag. “Thanks for the tip. I might go outside real quick and check my phone, I’m expecting a call. If Presley comes back, can you let her know where I am?” I wasn’t sure if Tibbs was going to let her know or if Mack was going to call me. In any case, I didn’t want to miss the message and have Mack wondering why I didn’t show up.
Hank nodded, pointing out the direction to the side door. “Yep, and if you see a redhead with a neck tattoo out there, tell her I need her back.”
“No problem.” I waved goodbye, making my way through the mostly empty club to where the side door was located. It was hidden by a small enclave, a false wall making it look like a dead end, but directly behind it was a door with a push bar.
It was unlocked, giving way under my weight as I walked outside into the cold night air. It was dark, my breath coming out in frosty bursts as a redhead turned toward me. “Um, you’re wanted back at the bar.” I pointed to the door I’d just come from, watching her stub out her cigarette and leave without question.
Alone, I pulled out my phone and checked the reception, the display on the top showing service had been fully restored. Unfortunately there were still no missed calls or unread texts, Mack obviously still busy. Tossing my phone back in my bag and trying to tell myself my disappointment was stupid, I turned to go back into the club when I heard a rustling coming from the hedge.
I wasn’t an idiot, knowing that all bad horror movies started with some dumbass going to look for trouble in the dark instead of getting themselves out of there and calling someone more qualified i.e. the police.
My heart was thumping as I moved closer to the door, trying not to panic, the thundering sound of footsteps coming toward me.
Shit.
My arm was grabbed, my body spun around so I could see who had me, shocked when I saw their eyes, their words surprising me even more.
“It’s you, I knew it.”
Mack
SHOP FIRE.
Two engines and two ladders.
The captain pointed to the side alley, “Chief and Leighton, around the back. There’s access to the basement through there and the owner is unaccounted for.”
Ain’t going to lie, providing cover for North and going out on a call was an adrenaline rush. I missed being part of the crew, deferring the authority to someone else. And currently it was Cap running the show, even if technically I outranked him.
Leighton nodded, sticking to my side as we jogged down the alley. “Just like old times, huh, Chief? Bet you hope North makes a habit of knocking up his wife and taking unplanned leave.”
“Maybe I need to make it a habit just to make sure you all stay in line.” I pulled on my SCBA. “I’ll take point, see if you can keep up.”
Like I’d done a million times before—my mind switched gears, my body moving automatically—experience and training doing their jobs. Testing it first for heat, I busted the storm doors open, smoke pouring up the stairs that led to the sidewalk.
The fire was at the front of the building but spreading fast, the fumes and smoke pumping through the old HVAC system and making shit even harder. If the owner was down there, he’d be unconscious for sure. And that was best-case scenario, the idea he was trapped in the front where line teams were trying to access, not something I wanted to think about.
It was dark, our lights needed as we descended into the basement. Thankfully whoever owned the building hadn’t pulled a reno, so it was still open plan. The beam of our lights able to get through the space without running into Chip and Joanna style walls. A shadowy figure was distinguishable a few feet away, no clue if it was a person, mannequin, or an illusion from the smoke. But whatever it was, wasn’t moving. Leighton and I double-timed to the backend corner, the figure slumped on a chair, not responding to either of our calls.
“Do a quick sweep of the area, make sure he’s alone.” I signaled to Leighton, grabbing the guy off the chair and checking for a response. “Stay in my line of sight, Leighton. The ceiling could go at any second.” He nodded, calling out into the smoke and doing a visual. Even though only one person was unaccounted for, I needed to be sure.
The guy was still breathing, but his pulse was weak as fuck. And with stairs our only access, I hauled him onto my shoulders, preparing to navigate our way out.
“Clear,” Leighton screamed through his mask, nodding to the direction we’d come from.
“Let’s bail.”
The guy was heavy set, had to have weighed at least two-hundred pounds. But slung on my back, with my hands locked in, I moved with purpose, pushing up the stairs into the open air.
Leighton was right behind me, helping me lower him to the stretcher of the waiting medics. The guy hadn’t so much as twitched the whole time, but as long as his ticker was still going, I knew they still had a chance.
Same couldn’t be said for the shop, fire engulfing the entire structure. There was no hope of saving it, our priorities shifting to protecting the neighboring buildings and “surrounding and drowning” the blaze until it collapsed on itself. It was two hours before it was down to its foundations, the lines still running just to be sure.
“You miss it?” Cap tapped me on the shoulder as I pulled off my helmet, wiping my face. “You looked pretty good out there.”
I laughed, having known Cap a lot of years. “Didn’t realize you were checking me out. If I’d known, I’d have done my hair.”
“Yeah, save that for Hayden, Chief. I have a hard enough time noticing when my wife does her hair.” He laughed, walking over to give last-minute instructions to the crew.
Just the mention of her name put a smile on my face, hoping she’d stuck around. I wouldn’t have blamed her if she didn’t, our plans for dinner at least three hours ago, and I hadn’t gotten a chance to call. Not there was a lot I could do, calls were unpredictable, and to say I was thrilled to be back on the engines was an understatement.
Taking the desk job had been the right thing to do. If it hadn’t been for Melinda and a chance to start a family, I’d have probably waited and stayed on the engines a little longer. I fucking loved being in the field. But it was the one area I didn’t have any regrets. Just like the woman I was itching to see, hoping that I hadn’t pissed her off too much by being so late.
Presley had showed up just as we were leaving, Tibbs having said he wanted to share some intel he’d gotten on the cocksucker she used to date. Not that he’d shared it with me, but I was grateful she’d offered to wait around until Hayden arrived so she didn’t think I’d completely bailed.
Pity I wasn’t feeling all that grateful when we got back to the stationhouse and found it empty. No Hayden or Presley, and no note either.
“Chief, you got a second?” Tibbs was at my door as I pulled my cell from my desk drawer. “By the way, Presley left a message that she took Hayden to the club to wait. I’d lik
e to think she was being considerate but we both know it was probably an interrogation mission. Sorry, but you know I’ve got no control over my sister.”
“Jesus Christ.” I scrubbed my face with my hand, Presley was almost as bad as Quinn when it came to other people’s business. Fuck only knew what they’d talked about. Still, I was glad she had someone to wait with, hoping Presley hadn’t gotten her so liquored up she could no longer walk straight.
“Let me get things squared away with my woman, and then we’ll have that chat.” I nodded to Tibbs making it clear that call would be happening in private.
“Got it. I’ll call Presley while I’m waiting. Give me a yell when you’re ready but take your time.” He grinned, closing the door behind him as he left.
Not a lot I could do about that smirk, or what he was thinking, and I didn’t give a shit. It was clear to anyone who knew me that Hayden wasn’t some passing phase and if they wanted to ride my ass about it, I welcomed it.
And what do you know, she’d left a message.
Trying not to have the same smug ass look on my face that Tibbs had when he left, I swiped the screen to open the unread text. I wanted to see her, hoping she would consider coming back to the station and I could make good on that promise of dinner.
“WHAT THE FUCK!”
The adrenaline I’d felt back in the engine was nothing compared to that moment. My chest felt tight, my pulse drumming so fast I wasn’t sure I wasn’t having a heart attack as I slammed my fist down so hard on my desk the wood actually groaned.
“You okay, Chief?” The door swung open, Tibbs and Leighton both looking in. “We heard you yell.”
“What the hell did your fucking sister say?” I fought the urge not to pick up the kid and put him through a wall. “You get Presley on the phone right now!”
