Once Burned (Firehouse Fourteen Book 1)

by Lisa B. Kamps

  “I don’t need this,” Nick mumbled to himself. His voice bounced back at him, too loud in the empty room. He ran his hands through his hair again then leaned forward and propped his elbows on the desk, thinking. He’d prefer not thinking, but he had tried that already and it hadn’t worked.

  Part of him wondered if it would just be better to seek Kayla out, to talk to her and try to resolve their past once and for all. He had a feeling that the idea was easier said than done. First, he had no idea where to even find Kayla except at work, and this was the kind of conversation that needed to be done in private. Second, he was pretty sure that Kayla wouldn’t want to speak to him even if he did track her down.

  So why was he sitting here agonizing over the whole thing? There was very little chance that he’d run into her. Running into her twice last week was a quirky fluke that wouldn’t happen again. Did he really want to dredge up the past, to pick at old injuries, just to ease his conscience now?

  No, he didn’t. The time for that was long past. He’d lived with the consequences for ten years; he couldn’t dredge it all up now just to ease his own guilt.

  A picture immediately came to mind, an image of the older Kayla superimposed over the younger, more innocent girl he remembered. And clearer than the picture in his mind was the certainty that he was largely responsible for the lack of innocence he sensed in her now.

  Just forget it. Nick rubbed his eyes with the heels of both hands. Forget the guilt, pretend it didn’t exist. And forget the pity, both for himself and for Kayla. Both of their lives had changed, they were different people now, and their paths would never cross again. He had to let it go, get back to who and what he was now. He let out a deep breath and pulled the first essay from the pile, determined to grade at least a handful before his three-thirty appointment.

  An hour later he was still staring bleary-eyed at the first essay, the typed letters blurring illegibly in front of him. He murmured a silent thanks when the room intercom buzzed and the school secretary announced that his visitors were on their way down. Nick tossed the essay back in the pile and stood, stretching until his back popped. He ran one hand through his hair in an attempt to smooth it, straightened his tie and jacket, then opened the classroom door at the knock and immediately froze when he saw who the visitors were.

  “You have got to be fucking kidding me.” The cool smile on Kayla’s face disappeared with her blunt statement. She spared a glance at Nick then turned to face Jay Moore with an accusing glare. “Did you know it was going to be him?”

  Jay looked as stunned as Nick felt, and was barely able to shake his head in response to Kayla’s question. Silence stretched tight around the trio then finally snapped when Kayla spoke again. “All yours, Jay. I’m out of here.”

  “Wait, hold on!” Jay reached out and grabbed Kayla by the arm then ushered her past Nick and into the classroom, closing the door behind him. He kept hold of her arm as he led her to Nick’s desk and pushed her into the chair. She held herself stiffly upright, her arms crossed defiantly as she stared straight ahead, her jaw clenched. Jay leaned down and said something to her, but Nick was too far away to hear it clearly. Whatever it was apparently didn’t please Kayla because she shot Jay a withering look before turning it on him.

  “Okay, now, time to get to the bottom of this and find out what’s going on. You,” Jay pointed at finger at Nick, “get over here. If I can’t get an answer from her, maybe I’ll get one from you.”

  Nick raised an eyebrow at the demand but wisely said nothing as he closed the distance between the door and his desk. He risked another glance at Kayla and felt the guilt and regret wash over him again. Had she really become that cold and hard, or was it just a show for his benefit? He was almost afraid of the answer.

  “Now that we’re all together here, someone help me out. First—are you the teacher we’re supposed to meet to set this program up?”

  “The awareness program? Yes,” Nick confirmed. Jay muttered under his breath, obviously not happy with the answer. He rubbed the back of one hand across his mouth and sighed, staring at Kayla. She stared back at him, sending him some silent message that Nick couldn’t interpret. A flash of jealousy, unexpected and unwelcome, seared his veins, and he wondered if the couple in front of him had a history. They must have, to be able to communicate so swiftly and silently. And it was none of his damned business, so why was he even worrying about it?

  “Perfect. Just great.” Jay released another sigh then looked at Nick, those odd gray eyes filled a hardness he didn’t understand. “Okay then. Is there anyone else besides you that we can work with?”

  “Excuse me?” Irritation exploded deep inside. Not just irritation; something else, something darker from his past, a feeling of inadequacy, of once again wondering what else he needed to do to atone for the sins of his past. Nick forced his jaw to relax, forced himself to meet the other man’s gaze with his own unflinching one. “No, I’m afraid there isn’t.”

  “Kind of hypocritical, don’t you think? You, heading a program against drunk driving?” Kayla’s words were icy, bitter. Nick faced her then immediately recoiled from the look she leveled at him. Accusation, anger. And why shouldn’t he see those things in her eyes? He opened his mouth to say something then promptly shut it against the defensive comeback he had been about to utter. More than anyone else, Kayla had every right to throw the accusation at him.

  “I don’t drink anymore.” Nick’s quiet response seemed empty and hollow to his own ears. From the expression on Kayla’s face, it was obvious she didn’t believe him. She pushed herself out of the chair and walked several paces away, putting more distance between them. Her back and shoulders were rigid, her jaw clenched even tighter than before. He watched her carefully as she started pacing, the pony tail of her slicked-back hair swinging against the shoulders of the shapeless blue uniform shirt with each angry step.

  Nick sighed and ran a hand through his own hair in frustration. And despair. The air around Kayla crackled with emotion so tense, so thick he could feel it. He braced himself for the explosion he was sure would come. But there was no explosion, only a damning silence that was a hundred times worse—because it made Nick realize that this woman in front of him was nothing like the Kayla he remembered from all those years ago. Laughing, innocent, quick to show what she was feeling, no matter if it was good or bad. This Kayla, the woman in front of him now, looked as if she never smiled, as if she kept things too deep inside, buried and hidden. Almost as if she didn’t feel—or as if she was afraid to let the world know she felt.

  They were the same, yet completely different. He didn’t know this woman in front of him, no matter how closely she resembled the girl from his past. He closed his eyes tight and immediately saw an image of the younger Kayla, vibrant and laughing, full of life and hopes and dreams.

  Over that came another image, an image of twisted metal and broken bones and torn flesh. And blood.

  Oh God, the blood.

  Nick shuddered and opened his eyes, trying to banish the memory that he had worked so hard to forget. His breath caught in his throat as his eyes met Kayla’s, at the bitterness etched on her face. And something else, a deeper emotion he couldn’t read but that made him uncomfortable regardless. He looked away, unable to meet her direct gaze any longer, and cleared his throat, swallowing against the thickness that clogged it, making it hard to breathe.

  “For what it’s worth, I am sorry. I never meant…” He trailed off, immediately recognizing the mistake of saying anything. Fire flashed in the depths of her green eyes as she closed the distance between them, jabbing a long finger in his direction. She didn’t touch him, made sure there was still space separating them, but the physical threat was there nonetheless. It took more willpower than Nick thought it would not to step away from her.

  “Don’t you even say it! Do you hear me? You had your chance for sorry ten years ago and you weren’t man enough to do it then, so don’t try to do it now!” Kayla’s
voice was soft, tightly controlled despite the tense emotion of her words. He swallowed and stepped back, remembering they weren’t alone in the room only when Jay’s quiet words shattered the tension surrounding them, suffocating them.

  “What the hell is going on between you two?” His gray eyes, full of concern, rested on Kayla for a few long seconds. Then he shifted his gaze to Nick, his eyes cold and filled with suspicion. The silence was broken by Kayla’s laugh, brittle and sharp.

  “Going on? Nothing. It’s just funny that he should be warning anyone about the dangers of drunk driving. I mean, you do it so well, Nicky, don’t you?”

  “Kayla—”

  “No, let’s get it all out.” Her voice betrayed none of the emotion that flashed in her eyes, cold with fury as she stared at him. Quiet seconds went by before she looked away, turning her attention to Jay. “I wasn’t joking when I told you the other night that he almost killed me. One night, just over ten years ago, Nicky decided he was okay to drive and I was stupid enough to believe him. He walked away from the accident. I didn’t. And that was the last time I saw him.”

  Kayla turned back to face him, those green eyes that used to be so full of life and laughter now cold and flat, completely devoid of all emotion. “So you see, Jay, there really was nothing mysterious about it like you thought. Just an ex who means as much to me as I do to him. Does that sound about right, Nicky?” She turned back to Jay and offered him a brittle smile. “Sorry pal, but you’re on your own with this one. I’ll wait outside for you.”

  Nick watched her open the door and walk out, felt the familiar guilt sweep over him once more, harsher and more painful than ever before. And this time, the guilt, all the other emotion he had been trying to deny, scared the shit out of him, twisting his gut and knotting his throat. And he was scared. Scared because his worse fear from that long ago night had actually come true, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself otherwise.

  He had been kidding himself all these years, telling himself that Kayla was alive and well, blindly believing that of all the things he had done, he could at least be thankful that he hadn’t killed her.

  With the image of the woman who had just walked out of the room still burning clearly in his mind, Nick realized he had been wrong all these years. The Kayla he remembered was dead and gone, had been for ten years.

  And he was the one who had killed her.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Unbelievable. Utterly unbelievable.

  Mike didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, a decision made harder because neither reaction would help. So instead, she took a deep breath and lashed out again with her fists, her pent-up anger finding some release in the repeated blows against the stuffed bag. It remained still for the first set then swung wildly under her last assault.

  “Hey, would you take it easy?” Jay stepped away from the bag and rubbed at a spot on his chest, apparently the same spot where the bag caught him when he lost his grip. Mike gave him a dirty look and threw two more heavy punches, followed by a hard kick, just to make sure Jay understood what kind of mood she was in. She wiped the sweat from her forehead then stepped away from the bag and shot him another murderous glare.

  “Okay, so it was stupid. I was stupid. I wasn’t thinking.”

  “There’s an understatement.” Mike sat down on the bench and wiped more sweat from her face, then draped the towel around her neck and reached for the water bottle. She took a long swallow, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and then glared at Jay. The workout had helped nothing. Her frustration and anger were still there, simmering just below the surface, aching for release. She took a deep breath, let it out, took another and held it, counting to a slow ten before releasing it.

  “Mikey, c’mon, please. I’m sorry. How long are you going to stay mad at me?”

  “For as long as it takes.”

  “Mikey…” Jay’s voice trailed off and he stepped away, slowly pacing back and forth before coming to a stop in front of her. He ran a hand through his hair, causing the short blonde strands to stick up at crazy angles. He dragged the hand down his face and sighed. “I’m sorry. I screwed up, okay?”

  “That’s putting it mildly.”

  “I didn’t know! Okay? I didn’t know. I had the damned paperwork filled out before we even went to that school. How was I supposed to know they’d send the stuff in before our shift even started?”

  Mike took another deep breath and leaned her head against the wall, closing her eyes to block out the sight of Jay’s misery. There was probably some comfort to be found in that, knowing that she wasn’t the only miserable one, but it didn’t help. Not now. And all because Jay had, for once, actually done his paperwork. Any other time, forms were misplaced or waylaid or sent in late. Or Jay just forgot to do them at all. But not this time. Of course not. And why in the hell couldn’t that have happened this time?

  Because fate was a bitch with a twisted sense of irony.

  She and Jay had been called into the captain’s office right before lunch so he could read them the letter he had received from the Public Affairs Office. Out loud, like they were a couple of school kids who weren’t able to read for themselves. The letter commended them—no, it commended the captain, who was hell-bent on making Chief—for doing such an outstanding job in launching the pilot awareness program.

  Mike leaned against the doorjamb in stunned silence, listening to the captain’s voice, smug with satisfaction, drone on and on as he read the letter. But Mike didn’t care what it said, didn’t care how smug the captain was. She could only stand there, her jaw clenched, and stare at Jay. He stared back at her, his face twisted in horror, his mouth opening and closing silently as red flamed across his face and neck.

  Captain Nelson had stopped talking and was watching both of them with that keen sight that let him see too much, then abruptly asked them what the hell was going on. The question—and the captain’s impatient glare—was directed solely at Mike. She opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by Jay, who promptly explained that he sent the wrong paperwork in, that Mike couldn’t help because of another obligation, that this would be Jay’s solo project.

  Only it wouldn’t be. Not anymore.

  Because Jay had outlined such a great program that he wouldn’t be allowed to do it solo.

  Because Jay needed someone with a higher certification than his to oversee it, and the captain had already put her name on it.

  The unspoken threat was there, loud and clear. Mike would be in charge, and she better not screw it up.

  And absolutely not, no, they could not find someone to take Mike’s place, because that would mean going to another shift. Captain Nelson strongly advised against even thinking about it. Of course he would, because that wouldn’t reflect positively on him.

  Which meant that was pretty much that.

  So now Mike was stuck helping with a program she didn’t care about. Stuck working with a man she wished she had never met, a man she really, really wished was dead.

  Oh yeah, fate definitely had a twisted sense of irony.

  “Mikey, I swear, I’ll figure something out. I mean, there’s nothing saying you actually have to go to the meetings. You can just sign-off on them. And then, during the actual program, you can just sit in the back and—”

  “Jay, stop.” Mike took another deep breath and opened her eyes, almost wanting to laugh at the pitiful expression on Jay’s face. Almost. She wasn’t in much of a laughing mood right now. “I’m not mad at you. Well, nothing I won’t get over, anyway. And I can’t just sign-off on the paperwork. You know as well as I do that Cap is going to be looking at this too closely. I can’t give him any excuse to come down harder on me than he has been. You know that.”

  Jay sighed and nodded, then dropped down next to her on the bench and leaned against the wall, his position a mirror of hers. “I just wish they’d promote his ass and get him out of here. He’s only been here for six months and he’s damn near destroyed the shif
t.”

  Mike snorted. “Yeah well. At least he doesn’t have a hard-on for you. I just wish to hell I knew what I did for him to be watching every move I make.”

  “It’s not just you, Mikey. It’s all of us. I think you just notice it more. Or let it get to you more.”

  She wanted to argue, to tell Jay that it was more than that. She didn’t bother. Yes, the captain came down hard on all of them, for all the wrong reasons. But with her, it was a little more personal and had been since his first trick at the station. Mike was so used to the rhythm they’d established over the years, of getting to a scene, sizing it up, and just doing what needed to be done. How was she supposed to know the new captain didn’t want anyone so much as twitching an eye before he barked orders? Like the crew was nothing more than a bunch of imbeciles who didn’t understand their jobs. One call, that was all it took. One strike for doing nothing more than her job. If the captain had his way, she would already be out. Written up, disciplined, transferred. It didn’t matter, the threat was there.

  And she couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

  She uncapped the bottle and took another long swallow, then nudged Jay’s leg with her knee. “Don’t worry, I’ll figure something out. I’ll just clench my jaw and deal with it if I have to.”

  They sat side-by-side for several quiet minutes before he spoke, his voice quiet, almost sympathetic. “So I guess you really loved the bastard, huh?”

  Mike froze at the question. She should have expected it, should have had an answer ready. No, Jay hadn’t pushed for more information, but she still should have expected it—especially from Jay. He, of all people, would come right out and ask. Especially since he had been dancing around it, subtly asking for more information, for the last several weeks.