by Olivia Rush
“Come in,” came the prim voice after I knocked.
I stepped through the empty receptionist’s office and into the large, stately principal’s office. As I always did, I took a quick look around, imagining myself in this elegant little room with walls covered with colorful spines of books and a view that looked out onto the green space in back of the school.
And behind the desk was Mrs. Wexler. She looked at me skeptically, squinting her wrinkle-fanned, gray eyes behind large, cat-eyed glasses. She was dressed in one of her usual monochromatic power suits with the big shoulder pads built in. She was a serious woman, and despite what I had to tell her, I always felt that I was wasting her time.
“Miss Parker,” she said. “Come in.”
I sat down, my stomach tingling a bit.
“What can I help you with?”
I thought for a brief moment just how I was going to phrase what I needed to say. Then, almost beyond my control, everything came out in a huge blurt.
Mrs. Wexler took the time to think over what I’d just told her.
“That’s…certainly disturbing, if true,” she said, taking off her glasses and folding them in her hands. “And what do you propose we do about this?”
I was at a little bit of a loss. I’d been so wrapped up in solving things that I hadn’t really thought about what I was going to do.
“Well, we need to cancel classes,” I said, a trace of nerves in my voice. “Close the school until the week’s over, or until the fire breaks out—I don’t know. But we have to do something!”
“You want to close the school indefinitely and tell the parents…what, exactly?”
“I don’t know, tell them that there’s the threat of arson right next door!” I was losing more and more hope of getting anything accomplished with each syllable that passed my lips.
“And with what evidence? Your hunch?”
I opened my mouth to speak but said nothing.
“Listen, Chloe,” she said. “I know that you’ve been working hard with the kids, and I know that after what happened with Micah you’re likely feeling extra protective toward them. And my god, you nearly died in that fire at your apartment. I get that you’re shaken up, and maybe it was a mistake to let you come back to school so soon. But we can’t just send everyone home for a week because you’ve got a bad feeling about something.”
I wanted to run home, grab Ethan’s laptop and the rest of the notes that we’d been taking and show them all to Mrs. Wexler. But I realized that this would only serve to make me look crazier, dumping a pile of scrawled notes onto her desk with a fevered look in my eyes.
“Go home and get some rest. I hear you’ve been seeing that handsome fireman from YouTube,” she said, a little glint in her eyes. “Go have a nice dinner, get some sleep, and you’ll be feeling better in the morning.”
“Bu—”
“Principal’s orders,” she said, her voice having just enough of a hard edge to make it clear that she was being very serious about the matter. “Now scoot.”
She slipped her glasses back onto her face, turned to her computer, and that was that.
The conversation was over.
18
CHLOE
I left the office and spent the trip back to Ethan’s apartment fuming. I was a little annoyed with Mrs. Wexler, sure, but I was madder at myself for not being able to make my case. The kid’s lives were at stake, and the best I could do was say that I had a feeling about the whole thing.
By the time I reached Ethan’s apartment and stepped in through the front door, I was ready to collapse onto the couch from the mental exhaustion.
The smell of Italian food wafting through the air caught my immediate attention, however. I noticed that the lights were dim in the apartment. Classy jazz music played on the nearby speakers.
“You’re back!” came Ethan’s voice from the kitchen.
He stepped out, his big body wrapped in an apron with the words “firemen do it HOT” written in flaming letters. I couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of him in it.
“What?” he said.
Then he got it and looked down.
“Hey,” he said. “I don’t do much cooking. Got this as a gift, you know?”
I stepped up to him and placed my hands on his hips. Standing on my tiptoes, I planted a kiss on his lips.
“I’d say I agree with the apron.”
“I guess you’d know,” he said, reaching behind me and giving my rear a firm swat.
A sexual thrill ran through me. Feeling horny as hell, I placed my hand on his crotch and squeezed his cock through his tight jeans.
“Maybe you should refresh my memory,” I said, my voice low and sexual.
He looked for a second like he was strongly, strongly considering it.
“Well…unless you want to deal with burned lasagna, I’m going to have to take a rain check. As enticing as the offer might be.”
I let go of his cock, feeling a little disappointed. But as soon as the delicious smells returned to my senses, my focus changed entirely. I was famished! Gosh, I can’t even remember the last meal I ate? My adrenaline had me hyper focused on the task at hand; to get Principal Wexler to understand the magnitude of the situation. I had failed.
“How’d things go with the principal?” he asked, turning back toward a big bowl he was dropping salad ingredients into.
I gave him the dirty details as he poured me a big glass of cabernet. This wine was a savior and just what I needed to take the edge off.
“I just don’t know what to do,” I said. “I can’t just stand aside and let these assholes get away with another fire. Not to mention the threat to my damn kids!” I slumped back in the barstool and shook my head. “I just feel so damn helpless. And I feel like I should be doing something, anything. But here I am, about to enjoy a delicious dinner made by the hottest fireman in the city.”
A half-smile formed on Ethan’s lips.
“I’ll take the ‘hottest fireman’ part, but why don’t you hold off on ‘delicious meal.’ It’s been a minute since I’ve cooked anything this complicated.”
He checked the lasagna, the smell of the food blasting into the kitchen and making my mouth water like crazy. My stomach growled, it made me jump, and we both started chuckling. You could tell I was spent.
Ethan stepped behind me and wrapped his big, thick arms around me. A feeling of safety and security enveloped me like a toasty warm blanket. I closed my eyes and let the feeling surround me. I couldn’t believe how good Ethan made me feel, and not just in the bedroom. He was really something special, the type of man you didn’t find just strolling around the block.
“Here,” said Ethan, slipping his arms out from around me and walking back around the counter. “Food’s almost ready. You can help out by bringing the wine and plates and all that up to the roof.”
He set the items on a tray and gave a nod toward it.
“I suppose it’s the least I could do,” I said with a smile.
I grabbed the tray and headed up the stairs that led to the roof. Once there, I let out a little gasp at the table that Ethan had set up for us. It was round, covered with a white tablecloth. The city twinkled all around me, and the moon hung silver in the sky.
I went right to setting the table before I got all choked up. By the time I put the last fork into place, Ethan arrived with a tray of steaming hot lasagna.
“Get it while it’s hot,” he said, placing the tray on the table.
He vanished down the stairs, returning moments later with the salad and bread.
“I think that’s everything,” he said. “Dig in.”
Seeing the food in front of me made it very clear just how starving I was. I shoved the spoon into the lasagna and helped myself to a massive serving, making sure to leave room on my plate for the sides. I knew I should’ve waited a little bit for it to cool down, but I didn’t care. I dug in with wild abandon, shoving the food into my face and washing it down with a long sip of
wine.
“Someone’s hungry,” said Ethan, watching me do my thing.
“You have no idea,” I said. “Sorry if this looks like a circus act or something.”
“Not at all,” he said. “I like a girl who can eat.”
I dug in a little more, polishing off nearly half the plate before taking a break. As I ate, however, I couldn’t help but notice that Ethan seemed more than a little preoccupied. He looked away as he picked at his food, as though something was on his mind. I was ready to chalk it up to all the goings-on of the day, but something seemed…different about this particular strain of preoccupation.
“Penny for your thoughts?” I asked, dipping a piece of bread into a small pool of red sauce and popping the whole thing into my mouth.
“It’s…no, it’s nothing,” he said. “Nothing you need to worry about.”
OK, something was definitely up.
“Come on, big guy,” I said. “We’re a team here, remember? If we’re going to pull this off, we’ll need to be on the same page. No secrets. Well, within reason.”
Ethan formed his mouth into a flat line, seemingly considering if he really wanted to go into what he was thinking about. After a few more long moments, he spoke.
“I had a meeting with my chief about all this.”
“Uh oh,” I said. “You in trouble?”
“Not yet. But the chief told me that I needed to make sure not to step in it too badly. Can’t bring any heat down on the fire department. Sorry for the pun.”
“Sounds reasonable,” I said. “But I’m getting the impression there’s something more.”
“And you’d be right. The chief let me know that I’m the man he’s considering to replace him when he finally retires.”
My eyes went wide. “Are you serious?” I asked, dropping my bread into my salad. “That’s great. Right?”
“Well, yeah,” he said. “But there’s more to it.”
“Let’s hear it,” I said, not missing a beat.
“Now,” he said. “I’m not normally the type to get into my past like this, especially not so soon with someone.”
“Nothing about this, whatever you and I have going on, is ‘normal,’ Ethan,” I said. “Why stop now?”
He chuckled, his big chest rising and falling. “I guess you’re right.” Ethan took a long sip of wine and went into it.
“I was in the SEALs, way back before I moved to the city and started this new life of mine as a firefighter. I was the sergeant of my squad—a leadership position. I was responsible for the lives of the men under me. And when you’re in the SEALs, that’s not a task you take lightly. But I was young, and I was ready for it.”
“That’s how it is when you’re that age,” I said. “You think you’re freaking invincible.”
“That’s exactly right. And that’s a bad trait to have when you’ve got men’s lives to be responsible for.”
Another sip of wine. I sat forward, both ready to listen and happy that Ethan was confiding in me like this.
“Anyway, my team and I were in Afghanistan, running all sorts of operations—all black-ops stuff, all very secretive. We’d just got finished with some wet works and were on the ride back when we got a hell of a TO come in through intel.”
“I’m sorry—a what?”
“‘TO,’” he repeated. “A target of opportunity. Meaning something that’s not part of the mission but happens to be near, something that presents an opportunity you just can’t say no to. I can barely remember what it was—some tribal leader who’d been giving us trouble. Point is, it was a mission that was totally my call. We were done, and we didn’t need to take it. We could’ve gone home and gotten a pat on the back or whatever it was they had in mind for us.
“Of course, I was all piss and vinegar, and wasn’t about to turn down a chance to show off how much of a badass I was. So, I told the squad we were going in.”
“And what’d they say?”
Ethan flashed me a quizzical expression.
“They said ‘yes sir,’ of course. The military’s not a democracy.”
Of course. He went on.
“I’ll save you the grisly details, but the intel we got was pure shit. The target was more heavily guarded than they thought, and they started lighting us up as soon as we got there.”
“Oh no,” I said.
He nodded. “Luckily, my team was the best trained group of sons of bitches there was. We fought our way back out, but not before three of my men were injured. It’s only by the grace of God or whatever you want to call it that we got out of there without losing a man.”
“Did you…get in trouble or anything?”
He shook his head.
“The brass knew what kind of shit we’d found our way into—it was the intel guys that took the heat for it. But I was the man in charge. I should’ve known better than to go storming in with nothing but glory on my mind.”
A few beats of silence passed.
“The boys all recovered, but one of them took a bullet in the leg that meant his career in the service was over. And that’s on me.”
I reached across the table and placed my hand on his. “There’s no way you could’ve known,” I said.
“That’s what they told me. Anyway, it’s ancient history. Point is that now Chief wants me to be in charge again. Part of me feels like I’m ready, but another part of me feels that a man like me shouldn’t be anything close to leading men again.”
“So, now on top of everything, you have this looming on the horizon,” I said.
“That’s right. I’m just worried that I already know what happens when I get put in charge, and that I’m tempting fate by ignoring it.”
“If it’s any consolation, I think you’d make a great chief. And I bet if I took a poll of my kids, they’d say the same thing.”
A small smile formed on his handsome face. “That’s no small thing,” he said. He took another deep breath through his nose and shook his head. “Anyway, sorry for dumping that all out on you. Not your concern. Our job is to make sure these thugs get brought to justice.”
“You don’t need to apologize,” I said, squeezing his hand. “Thanks for sharing this with me.”
Ethan smiled again before turning his attention back to the food. The rest of the meal passed in silence. But not an awkward one—a comfortable one, the type of pleasant silence that you only achieve with people with whom you share an extraordinary closeness. And somehow, I had that with Ethan after only a few days.
By the time we were done, both of us were so full of wine, bread, and pasta that it was enough work just to get down to the bedroom, never mind doing anything sexy. What we did instead was nicer, actually. Once down to our underwear, we crawled into bed and got under the covers. Ethan wrapped his arm around me and pulled my body tight, just how I wanted him to do. My head settled comfortably on his chest, and with a smile on my face I drifted off into a deep sleep.
19
ETHAN
Another alarm cut through the station, pulling me out of the daydream that I’d had. It was a good one, too—it involved Chloe Parker in, well, nothing.
“Heads up, Stokes!” shouted Stone with an eager grin. “We got a live one!”
It took a millisecond to get me back in the game. I jumped up from my seat and rushed to get my gear, the station already a wild flurry of activity. But I felt my stomach sink at the idea of another fire—what if this was the one by the school? What if Chloe and I had been too late?
“Where’s the call?” I asked, throwing on my gear.
“You’ll never believe this,” said Stone. “But it’s in Queens!”
I raised my eyebrows. My fear was quickly replaced with curiosity.
“What the hell are we doing in Queens?” said Rick. “That’s not in our neighborhood. Hell, that’s not even in our borough!”
I had the same thoughts.
“Some big warehouse fire,” said Stone. “They need some backup, and we’re ready to m
ove. At least, that’s what Chief says.”
That was all I needed to hear. I geared up and soon we were off, the fire truck screaming down the streets of Brooklyn and finally into Queens. The neighborhood was Long Island City, a ritzy riverfront hood. We spotted the blaze from blocks off, and I soon realized the building was one of those warehouses that were currently being converted into expensive apartments.
Nothing about this seemed to fit with the rest of the fires—borough was different, type of building was different, even the time of day didn’t match up. A few trucks were already at work out front as we pulled up. The boys and I drove up next to them and did our thing. Luckily, the construction crews all managed to get out before the fire got too out of control, so it was simply a matter of putting the fire out.
It took about an hour of hard work, but the boys and I, along with the other crews, got the fire under control. When we were done, I took off my helmet and wiped my forehead with the back of my hand and let myself relax as best I could before starting with cleanup.
The cops showed up, and I positioned myself close enough to hear what they were talking about.
“You think this is connected to the Brooklyn fires?” I asked one of them.
“‘Connected’ in the sense that they’re all accidents,” said one. “At least, that’s what I’m hearing from the boys up top. They’re all getting close to closing the book on this. Shit’s just not looking right for arson.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. These fires had “arson” written all over them, and I’d even gone to the damn police with proof of my suspicions. The cops who’d spoken to Chloe at the hospital even said that they were looking at the fires as arson. And here they were, about to write off the investigation. I couldn’t decide if it was laziness or incompetence or what. But I knew now that it was all up to me.
And Chloe, of course.
Once the fire was out, I volunteered to stick around and help the Queens crews do what they could. I wanted to help, but even more than that, I wanted to check the scene out and see if there was anything I could find, anything that could link what had happened here to the other fires.
