by Erin Wright
Sugar…dammit all, was she really upset with him about the hooker joke? She seemed to have such a great sense of humor and he’d only been teasing her. She’d laughed, and then…suddenly she was pissed.
Women. If they didn’t come with such delicious body parts and didn’t make him feel so damn good, he might just quit them altogether.
Unfortunately, they did.
As he began heading back to his apartment in the still-defrosting Explorer, he decided to take a detour over to Betty’s Diner along the way. He normally didn’t eat out for breakfast – although he was a regular at the diner at lunch time – but he had time to kill before he had to be at work, and a nice plate of pancakes and sausages sounded good to him right then. Chloe, his favorite waitress at the diner, hadn’t come in yet but he enjoyed a leisurely meal anyway, downing more than his fair share of coffee.
Finally, full and content, he headed back out and towards home to actually get ready for the day that he’d already been up for, for hours – how did Sugar do this every day? – when he spotted a small curl of smoke coming from the back of the burned-out shell of a mill.
The Horvath Mill.
And not the cloud of smoke that comes from breath on a cold winter morning – this was a long, thin tendril. Like what one would get if they were smoking a cigarette.
He slowed down, his heart rate accelerating in tandem. Surely the same damn kids wouldn’t set fire to the mill a second time, right?
He turned the corner at a crawl, peering through the driver’s side window at the backside of the mill. There, he spotted a group of boys, talking and hanging out. He glanced at the clock on the dashboard. Same time as last time – ten minutes before school started.
They’d honest to God decided to do it again. Jaxson shook his head in bewilderment. Was he this stubbornly dumb when he was a teenager? He hated to think so, even if he was afraid it was true.
He put his SUV in park and strode across the deserted road to the backside of the mill, black streaks from the fire permanently etched into its brick walls. “Are you kids trying to do it again?” he demanded when he got close enough, reaching out and grabbing the lit cigarette out of the mouth of the mayor’s son.
They’d never met, of course – their social circles weren’t exactly the same – but Moose and Levi had pointed him out one day so Jaxson could keep a close eye on him. Considering how much trouble this punk kid had cost him, Jaxson had appreciated the help.
“Hey, man,” Angus protested, tossing his dyed black hair out of his face as Jaxson ground the cigarette out under the sole of his boot. “I have to go to class. I can’t make it through without—”
“You’re 17 years old, and you’re trying to tell me you’re already addicted to cigarettes?” Jaxson demanded, cutting off his protests. The kid shrugged nonchalantly, the other kids mimicking his gesture. Too cool for rules, the lot of them.
“What does it matter to you?” Angus tossed back insolently. He looked closer at Jaxson’s face. “Hold on, you’re the new fire chief, aren’t you?”
Jaxson grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the group of teenage boys, starting back across the street to his vehicle. “Yup, I am,” he said grimly.
“Where are you taking me?” Angus howled. “My dad is your boss. He’s gonna hear all about this! I’ll have you fired by tonight!”
“I’m performing a citizen’s arrest,” Jaxson informed him, opening up the back door to his Explorer and pushing the kid inside. “You’ve got another year until it’s legal to smoke, no matter who your dad is.”
“What?!” Angus burst out, staring horrified at Jaxson’s reflection in the rearview mirror. “You can’t take me to the police station! I…I…I can’t miss class!” he announced. “I’m supposed to be in school.”
“You also aren’t supposed to be smoking, so I think we’re even.”
Jaxson tuned out the begging and pleading from the backseat after that. It was only a couple of blocks down to the police station and for a moment, he wished he had sirens on his personal vehicle like he did on a firetruck. Turning on the lights was half the fun of putting out a fire.
He marched Angus inside, holding tight to his elbow. Officer Knittle looked up from the front desk, his eyes widening at the sight of Angus being dragged into the building. “What…what’s going on?” he asked, shooting to his feet.
“Angus here was smoking outside the mill. Again. I’ve performed a citizen’s arrest on him. Now, you can either book him or call the mayor and I’ll explain to him why you’re not doing your duty as a police officer of this town. But either way, the kid’s ass is going into a jail cell.”
Angus was back to his babbling bluster, trying to appeal to the city officer. “You can’t arrest me! My dad will have your head. Plus, I’m supposed to be going to school right now. You’re gonna get in trouble for keeping a minor out of school.”
The officer’s gaze shot back and forth between them, like he was watching a tennis match on TV, and Jaxson held his breath. He’d never done a citizen’s arrest and really didn’t know the proper procedure for it. For all he knew, what he was doing right then really was illegal, but dammit all, he wasn’t gonna back down. Not now. Not after everything this kid had done – intentionally or not – to Jaxson’s career.
The officer reached down and picked up the phone. Dammit, dammit, dammit.
His bluff had been called.
“This is on your head,” the officer said, shoving the phone into his hand. Jaxson took it, along with a deep breath.
You got yourself into this. Now the only choice left is to see it through.
“Hello?” rumbled the sleepy, gruff voice of the mayor.
Chapter 28
Sugar
Sugar struggled with the giant bag of flour, pushing and shoving the thing across the floor with all her might. The damn thing weighed as much as she did, and moving it was like trying to push a goddamn boulder across the kitchen.
She had it balanced on its edge and after a moment’s contemplation, began trying a new tactic of waddling with it tucked between her legs like some bizarre impersonation of a penguin with an egg on its feet – she’d watched way too many nature documentaries at this point, she decided – when she heard a burst of loud laughter come through from up front.
It startled her and she lost her tenuous grip on the edge of the bag of flour. In slow motion, she saw it begin to tumble and she was grabbing for it but it slipped through her hands and exploded in front of her, flour shooting out of a split seam in the top and all over the tiled kitchen floor.
Sugar began choking and waving her hand in front of her face, trying to clear the air enough to breathe. She heard more laughter and looked up at the swinging doors separating the front shop from the kitchen, to see Gage and Jaxson there, leaning up against the wall on either side of the opening, wearing matching grins.
Of course they'd witnessed that.
She wanted to curl up in a little ball and hide – preferably for the next year or so – but instead decided that it’d be much less embarrassing if she simply did her best to play it off as a joke.
“So…” she said casually, leaning against the stainless steel counter as if she didn’t have a care in the world, “how’s your day going?”
The effect was sadly ruined by another coughing fit as the flour did its best to worm its way inside of her. Jaxson hurried over and began patting her on the back, which only sent up clouds of flour into the air. She waved his “help” away as Gage began the task of trying to sweep the mess up.
Realizing that she probably didn’t want to discuss the flour fiasco in any sort of detail – pretending it had never happened was a much better idea in Sugar’s estimation – Gage spoke up. “Jaxson here performed a citizen’s arrest this morning on the way to work. You know, after he came here and picked up his car.”
Sugar ignored that last comment.
“Who did you arrest?” she asked, turning to him, eyes wide.
&nbs
p; “Angus.”
Sugar was pretty sure that announcement was more surprising than her dropping the bag of flour on the floor. Her mouth gaped open and she just stared up at him. A part of her wanted to panic, but he seemed so calm about it. So…unfazed.
If he’d been fired, he wouldn’t be calm, right?
Jaxson, reading the panic on her face, shot her a saucy grin. “The mayor thanked me.”
The kitchen was quiet for a moment, and then they all began laughing. “Are you freakin’ kidding me?!” Sugar yelped, when she could finally breathe enough to talk.
She knew Angus. Everyone knew Angus. He was an asshole. A troublemaker. He spent most of his free time thinking of ways to bully other people around, and didn’t hesitate in telling them that they couldn’t touch him because he was the mayor’s son.
A hell of a lot like her ex-husband, actually. What was it with guys demanding to be treated special because of who they were related to? Ridiculous, really.
Jaxson shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal, but the quirk around the edges of his mouth told Sugar that was just an act. “Said that he’s been struggling with Angus for months now, and it was about time someone stood up to him. Teenage boys are apparently less than saintly and perfect. Who knew!”
Sugar walked over to the large trash can on wheels and shook her hair out over it, trying to get most of the white dust into the bin and not just onto the floor.
“Did he arrest…” Sugar started to ask Gage, but he was already shaking his head no.
“Who?” Jaxson asked, looking between the two of them, confused.
Gage went back to sweeping up the mess. “My younger brother, Chris. He happens to be Angus’ best friend. He was probably there when you picked up Angus this morning. Did you see a tall, skinny kid, bleached blond hair combed forward into his eyeballs, acne, with skinny jeans on?”
“Yeah, I did,” Jaxson said, surprised. “But Angus was the only one smoking, so he’s the only one I focused on.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if my brother had taken up smoking,” Gage said with a bitter laugh. “If you catch him smoking, feel free to do a citizen’s arrest on him, too. He…” Gage shook his head. “My parents had wanted a third kid for years and years, but couldn’t seem to get pregnant. When Chris finally came along, they were almost 40, you know? They should’ve been planning for their golden years, not diapering a baby. I think they were just too tired to take him on like he needed. Seventeen years later, and he’s only matched in assholishness by his best friend. They make quite the pair.”
Sugar wasn’t sure what to say to that. It was true – every last bit of it. She and Emma had spent a lot of time dissecting where Chris went wrong, and they both agreed that it came from an upbringing where insolence was thought of as being “cute,” and laziness was excused with, “He’s just a baby,” even when he was hitting his early teens. Unlike Emma and Gage, who’d been put to work at an early age, Chris had been coddled every step of the way.
And damn did it show.
Gage had tried to get his brother into the bakery to work and make some extra money on the side, but Chris had shrugged him off, and their parents had told him that Chris needed to focus on his school work. Which would’ve been fine…if that’s what he was actually doing.
But Chris wasn’t about to graduate as valedictorian of his class.
Sugar sighed in sympathy, and then turned back to Jaxson, trying to take the spotlight off Gage. “So where is the mayor’s son at now?” she asked brightly. “Cooling his heels in a jail cell?”
“Yup. The mayor told me to have him hang out there for a day. Maybe it’d give him the time to think through his priorities.”
Sugar snorted with laughter. She’d been kidding with the jail cell comment, but was starting to realize that Jaxson didn’t mess around. “Remind me not to get onto your bad side,” she said dryly.
He shot her an unrepentant grin. “You know, I still haven’t gone home and cleaned up,” he told her in a low rumble, his voice vibrating through her as he pulled her against him. “I never got that far. It looks like you could use some cleaning up, too.” He patted her hair, sending up a small cloud of flour into the air. “We could go clean each other—”
“Some of us have to work ‘round here,” Gage interrupted drolly. Jaxson shot him a disgruntled look.
“Fine, fine. Well then, I’m here to pick up a dozen donuts.”
“You have another training meeting?” Sugar asked, leaning over the trash can again, wiping at her shirt and jeans. She sure was a disaster. She didn’t even want to look in the mirror.
“Nope. I’m taking them over to the jail.”
She stopped in her cleaning efforts to gape at Jaxson.
“I thought I’d talk to him. See if I could make some headway.”
She felt a smile spread across her lips as she stared at him. She couldn’t be more impressed if he’d just announced he’d won a gold medal at the Olympics.
He wasn’t going to make any headway, of course, but it was sure nice of him to try.
What a difference from Dick. It was hard to believe they were the same species, really. She tried for a moment to imagine her ex-husband reaching out to someone who needed guidance and direction, and snorted in disbelief. If Dick was going to guide anyone anywhere, it was towards the bar and alcoholism.
“Donuts are on the house,” Gage said, sweeping up the last of the flour. “If that’s all it takes to get through to Angus and my brother, you can have as many as you want.”
Yeah, it was naïve of Jaxson to think that this would work, but as Sugar led the way back up front to pick out a box of donuts for him, she couldn’t help but wish it was the way the world worked, anyway.
Chapter 29
Jaxson
He pulled up in front of the city jail, a second time that day, and after patting his hair to get the remaining flour out of it, he swung out of his Explorer, donuts in hand. Officer Knittle looked up when he came in, surprised. “Can’t get enough of the Sawyer Jail?” he asked sarcastically.
Jaxson laughed. “Something like that. Can I go back and see Angus for a minute?”
“Sure,” Knittle said, coming around the desk. He led Jaxson to the back and pulled his keys off his belt to unlock the jail cell door. There was only one cell there; it looked like the city used it as a holding tank until they could shuffle people off elsewhere.
Jaxson walked into the small cell, holding the opened box of donuts out to Angus. “Want one?” he asked, Officer Knittle swinging the door almost closed behind him, leaving it slightly ajar so Jaxson could leave when he was done. He appreciated the thoughtfulness.
The kid reached out and grabbed one, hiding beneath the long fringe of his dyed black hair as he began eating it. No thank you, no appreciate it.
Was Jaxson this rude when he was a teen? He liked to pretend those years hadn’t happened because they hadn’t exactly been wonderful ones, but looking back, he grimaced to himself.
Yeah, he probably was this rude. Maybe even more.
“When I was a kid, I was mad at the world,” he said softly, sitting down on the twin bed across from Angus. The springs squeaked beneath his weight as he took his time, carefully selecting a sprinkle-covered donut out of the box to eat before continuing on. “Didn’t know who my dad was. Mom refused to tell me. The way I looked at it, he obviously didn’t love me enough to show up when I needed him, and so every guy I met, I pretended it was him. I got into more than a few fights.”
He turned sideways and settled up against the gray cinder block wall, licking his fingers between each bite. Angus just stared at the floor, hiding beneath the shock of hair he carefully brushed forward into his face every morning. Who is he hiding from?
“My mom’s got early Alzheimer’s,” he continued. “She’s in a nursing home now, and doesn’t even recognize me when I go to visit her. Chances are, she doesn’t even know the name of my dad at this point. Till the day I die, I’ll never know wh
o my dad is. Made me angry enough to hit and kick and punch and do drugs—” Angus snorted at that, still staring at the floor, “—and make a lot of other really stupid decisions. Firefighting saved me. Not Jesus, although I don’t have anything against the man. No, it was fighting fires. It gave me a purpose. I could finally help people, instead of always hurting them.
“And the strangest thing was, I found that once I stopped trying to hurt everyone else, I stopped hurting myself. I went straight, and I never looked back.”
He paused, waiting for Angus to say anything – anything at all – but he was still just staring at the cell floor, refusing to make eye contact or utter a word.
“Is there someone or something that’s hurting you?” Jaxson asked quietly. He knew it was a long shot – teenage boys didn’t tend to open up to strangers after five minutes of talking and a free donut – but still, he sighed when Angus didn’t say anything. Didn’t move. He’d become a statue on the bed, a monument to anger and identity crisis and pissedoffedness at the world.
Jaxson stood, leaving another donut on the bed next to Angus. Finally, some movement – the kid grabbed it and began eating again. Still no thank you or appreciate it, but Jaxson hadn’t expected any. It’d take a while until Angus got to that point, if ever.
“Smoking as a teen is a punishable offense. I’ll talk to your dad about it. See what we can work out.” He walked out of the cell, closing it behind him with a clang, and still, Angus said nothing, just sitting morosely on the bed, staring at the floor sightlessly.
Jaxson gave the remaining box of donuts to the police officers on duty, knowing that if he kept the box to himself, he’d just eat all of them. He wasn’t sure how much more his waistline could take. He knocked on the partially open door to the mayor’s office, and opened it up fully at the barked, “Come in!” He stepped in, closing the door behind him quietly.
