Hell, Fire & Freedom (Fighting for Freedom)

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Hell, Fire & Freedom (Fighting for Freedom) Page 6

by Callahan, Shannon


  “That sounds perfect, thank you again. I really appreciate the opportunity. You have no idea,” I say honestly. I can’t help the smile that has now spread across my face.

  “I’m sure I do. Well, why don’t you grab something to eat, and I’ll go check the schedule to see when we’re able to start your training. I’ll grab you an apron, too. You’re welcome to wear your own clothes—black pants and a black shirt—as long as it has sleeves of some sort, it should be fine,” she says, motioning to her own outfit. I nod, and watch as she disappears into the back of the store. I decide to steer clear of the latte and croissant that remind me so much of Blaze and try a blueberry scone and a chai tea instead. I join Marie who’s already finished half of her bagel and is sipping on her tea.

  “Well, how did it go?” she asks excitedly.

  “I got the job,” I answer, and she lets out a quiet squeal. “I’m waiting to find out when I start. I’ll be there to pick you up from school, but you’ll have to get there on your own because I start at 6:30 in the morning. I’m a little bit worried about that,” I say searching her face to see how she feels about it.

  “Brynn, I love you, but I’ll be fine. It’s only two blocks away, and you heard what Tara said. He can’t leave the state without a judge’s permission. Plus, he has absolutely no idea where we are, and no way to find out. We can’t live in fear of him. We just need to be aware that he exists until he’s behind bars,” she says matter of factly.

  Stella returns with my apron and the schedule. I start full time, Monday to Friday next week. In spite of my fear, I still feel proud of myself. It’s been so long since I had a job, so long since I had a life. It’s going to feel good living as an independent woman.

  Marie and I finish up our lunch and walk to the therapist’s for our first session. It goes pretty well, and I open up as much as I’m able to. I need to get past all of this, and I’m tired of living in fear.

  We head to the mall next for a few pairs of black pants and tops. I’d like to throw out everything I brought from Carl’s house, but I don’t feel comfortable spending that much money yet. Maybe after my first pay check Marie and I can own more than a few outfits each. We go grocery shopping before spending our first night together in the apartment making pizza and chocolate chip cookies.

  The rest of the weekend passes in a similar fashion. Neither of us wanted to bring up the outside world, so instead we simply enjoyed each other’s company, watching bad cable movies and cooking together with recipes we found on the internet.

  Sunday night, however, we both start feeling a little anxious. Marie has never been to a new school before. She’s never had to make new friends, and I’m not even sure she has ever had any to begin with. I want it to be different for her here; I want her to be happy. I do my best to reassure her. We pick out our clothes before getting ready for bed. I set my alarm for 5:00 a.m. and close my eyes. The last thing I remember before drifting off to sleep are those emerald green eyes staring back at mine in horror. How am I going to make it through tomorrow?

  Chapter 6

  I wake the next morning feeling more refreshed than I have in a long time. I shower and get ready for work, happy that my bruises are barely visible anymore. With makeup I’m unable to tell that they were ever there in the first place. I pack Marie’s lunch, and then decide to put a five dollar bill beside it, as well. I want her to be able to make her own choice, and I want her to feel like she can fit in with her peers. Kids can be cruel over the smallest things. It really sucked to be the kid who sat in the cafeteria with nothing at all to eat, just smelling everyone else’s lunches. I cringe at the thought of ever letting her go through something like that again.

  I wake Marie before leaving for work, going over the directions to the school again. We have walked by it before, but I’m still really nervous. I gave her principal my work number, letting her know to call me if she doesn’t show up to school on time. They’re most likely expecting a delinquent with bad grades, but at least they will be pleasantly surprised to find otherwise.

  With a final hug to Marie, I leave for my very first day of work. I use Marie’s mantra to boost my confidence: Today is going to be a good day, I can feel it.

  The walk to work is a little chilly, but at least it’s not very far. The hustle and bustle of the crowd provides some protection against the wind. Another perk to New York is that I don’t feel left out not owning a vehicle; it seems like the majority of people walk or use taxis. I arrive at work fifteen minutes early.

  The first few hours I’m led around by Stella, filling out paperwork, getting a tour and finally, learning how to operate the cash register. I’m even given my own name tag. I’m feeling fairly confident after my lunch hour, so I partner with a very leggy girl named Wren. She’s got short red hair and the body of a model. I think she’s around the same age as me, maybe a little older. She seems sweet and encourages me to take my first customer.

  “Welcome to Frothy Moustache, what can I help you with today?” I say, exuding confidence, or at least attempting to.

  “I’ll have a low-fat cranberry banana muffin, a tall skinny latte, and one of those hot new charity calendars you guys are selling for the Presbyterian Burn Unit,” the female customer says with a wicked grin. I’ve got the muffin and latte punched in and hollered out, but I’m lost on the calendar. Wren steps up beside me, to help.

  “I’ve got just what you’re looking for,” Wren says, leaning into the cash register to punch in a code before pulling a calendar from under the counter. “And if you stick around long enough, you can catch each and every one of these bad boys in here,” Wren says excitedly. She sets the calendar on the counter, and I catch my first glimpse.

  There are twelve shirtless fire fighters—all greased up—standing outside of their fire station. Immediately, my eye catches the one dead center. I’d recognize him anywhere. He doesn’t have that just rolled out of bed look in the photo, though; he’s half naked and full of dirt, grease, and rippling hard muscle. I start to feel faint, so I grab the edge of the counter for balance.

  “Earth to Brynn!” I hear called out, and I look back up at Wren who, along with the customer, is now laughing at me.

  “You might want to wipe that drool from the corner of your mouth,” she says before bursting into laughter again.

  I turn bright red instantly and bend down to grab the woman’s muffin, hoping they didn’t notice my change in complexion. Just great, now I look like a total pervert. But hey, I wasn’t the one buying the calendar, right? I will own one, though, so help me God. I pop back up with her bagged muffin just in time to hear that sexy drawl.

  “Like what you see ladies? Just wait until you see August, you do know that’s the hottest month of the year, right?” he asks with a cocky grin.

  I watch as my female customer, who is standing beside him, starts fanning herself with the calendar. He turns his chiseled jaw my way, and I can tell the exact moment he lays eyes on me. Our eyes meet, and his grin turns into a pained smile.

  I remember the words I spoke to him the last time I saw him and how I managed to make a complete ass of myself. If it’s possible, I turn a few shades redder. I try and rectify the situation quickly by turning away from him and back to the customer. I hand her the muffin, but she keeps her eyes trained on Blaze.

  “You can show me how hot August is any month, fireman,” she says, trailing her finger down his chest.

  I can feel my blood boiling, so I turn and grab her latte from Amber, one of the baristas on shift today. I fight the urge to spit in it before handing it to the flirty customer. I steal a quick glance at Blaze, who’s removing her finger from his chest. I have no idea where the jealousy inside of me is coming from, and I don’t like it.

  “Well, ma’am, thank you for supporting the Burn Unit; you know how much that means to us over at the station,” he says politely. She doesn’t seem fazed by the rejection at all. She winks at him before turning on her fabulous heels and walking through the
front door.

  I realize he’s now next in line, and I’m going to have to wait on him. Great.

  Deep breaths, Brynn.

  I plaster on the biggest fake smile I can and hope I don’t look as embarrassed as I feel.

  “Welcome to Frothy Moustache, how may I help you?” I breathe out. Yes, breathe out. My attempt at conveying professionalism is bogged down by my hormones again. What is it with this guy?

  “Good day ... Brynn,” he says, staring at my chest. Wait, how did he know my name?

  “Your name tag,” he answers with a knowing smirk. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Really glad I’ll be seeing more of you, too. There’s a line, though, so I won’t keep you. I’ll have six large black coffees and a dozen muffins. Your choice, of course.”

  I notice he’s turned off the charm he usually radiates, and I know it’s because of the last time we ran in to each other. I should be relieved, but honestly I’m feeling a little disappointed.

  I ring him through anxiously and call out his order to Amber, before setting about grabbing his muffins. I can feel his gaze burning through me, but I manage to keep my eyes from meeting his. I hand him his bag of baked goods and his tray of coffees that Amber passes me. He grabs a hold of my hand and pulls me forward so he can whisper in my ear.

  “You’re still beautiful to me, Brynn. I know I promised, but I’m not sure I can stay away much longer when I’m going to be seeing that body here every day,” he all but growls. My guard drops completely. I look down at my tight T-shirt, and my black dress pants, and wonder what’s so great about my body. If he could see the bruising, he would run for the hills; it’s not exactly sexy.

  I used to hate the bitter way Carl would say my name, but it sounds like a song rolling off Blaze’s tongue. I nod, feeling as though I should say something, but honestly, what else am I able to do with a body that just doesn’t seem to function in his presence? I’m used to being scared silent, but this is something different altogether. A good kind of something, I think. I watch him turn and walk away, and I have to admit, the view from the back is pretty great, too.

  “Now what on Earth was that?” Wren demands, spinning me around.

  I start to panic before realizing that she doesn’t look angry. Her eyebrows are arched, and she looks playful—generally curious—kind of like I’d expect Marie to react, I guess. I blush and mumble something about it being nothing before turning back to the next customer in line.

  The rest of the day passes pretty quickly. I don’t miss the inquisitive looks Wren shoots me at every possible opportunity, however. I make sure to buy a calendar before leaving to meet Marie at school. I mean, who wouldn’t? I tuck it inside my purse, feeling like it’s something that just should only be seen in private. I know I shouldn’t be embarrassed about my attraction to him, but I feel like my body is betraying my mind. I don’t want to like Blaze, or any man for that matter. Not after all I have been through with Carl.

  I arrive at Marie’s school early, but I’m not waiting long before she comes through the front double doors. She’s walking alone, but she doesn’t look unhappy. Good sign, right?

  “How did your day go?” I ask cautiously, as we start walking back toward our apartment.

  “It was good. The school is big and busy, but people still talked to me. I talked back some. I couldn’t help but feel like an imposter, though,” she says.

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “Like, if only they knew I’m the dirty poor kid, they wouldn’t give me the time of day. I’m deceiving them,” she mumbles, looking down at her feet. I can tell she’s really hurting so I spin her around so that she’s facing me.

  “Listen to me, Marie. There is nobody in this world that is more deserving of friends and a great life than you, always remember that. You are not dirty, nor have you ever been. You led a hard life that was completely beyond your control, but you will never be hungry or poor again. I promise you that. If I have to work eighteen-hour days shoveling dog shit, I’ll do it,” I say as quietly and firmly as I can. She sighs before she turns and starts walking again. I fall in step behind her.

  “Brynn, I know that, I do. We just can’t change where we came from or who we are. I don’t know how to be a good friend or how to gossip. I’m not like most of those girls,” she says sadly.

  “Are you crazy? You’re the best friend a girl could ever have. I know, because you are my best friend. You’re kind, loving, giving, warm, and to top it all off, you’re beautiful. So, no you may not be like most of the people in that school, but that’s because you are above all of that childishness, and that’s more than okay. Don’t do anything you don’t want to do, and that includes gossiping. Sometimes that may not put you in the most popular crowd, but what does it matter when you’ve got amazing friends anyway? You’ve only got a little over a year left in high school, and then you’re off to college. So stay true to who you are, and remember that any person in that school would be lucky to call you a friend,” I plead.

  Her eyes are glassy, and she looks a little lost, but I hope that I broke through on some level. We may be free of our past physically, but mentally and emotionally we still have a long way to go.

  “Thanks, sis, not sure how I ever got so lucky to have you,” she chokes out.

  “Ditto.”

  We make our way back to the apartment where we decide on tacos for supper. I’m glad we did. I hadn’t had a taco since I was six, and it was delicious. I know that I’m putting on a bit of weight, and though it feels good to not technically have to worry, I also know that I can’t eat what I want forever. For tonight, though, I’m going to enjoy that freedom.

  I grab my purse and pull out the calendar I brought home from work. That feeling of want deep in my belly rises up from the cover photo alone. For years I thought that all men were ruined for me, and I was fine with that, but with Blaze, it’s different. I’m sure he’s an asshole, chauvinistic pig deep down, too, but I can pretend with him at least. It’s not like anything will ever come from a harmless crush.

  I take a deep breath and flip to the month of August. I feel my body’s reaction before my mind even registers what it’s seeing.

  Oh. My. God.

  The glossy photo shows Blaze outside of a burning building in a pair of yellow firemen’s pants and suspenders, hung low on his hips. He’s covered in dirt, soot, and sweat and he’s yielding an axe. Every muscle in his upper body is taut and hard. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my life. My body aches with want.

  I shut the calendar and throw it under my bed. What am I doing? I don’t want him. I don’t even like him. He’s kind of an arrogant asshole … or maybe he’s nice, what do I know? He’s confusing, I’ll give him that.

  That’s because he feels guilty for witnessing your crazy ass panic attack, I tell myself. Why am I even wasting my time thinking about him? I can just see the conversation now.

  Hey Blaze, I hope you don’t mind, but I have a psychotic husband who I let abuse and rape me for five years because I am a weak piece of shit. Does that turn you on?

  I decide to forget about Blaze and enjoy my night with Marie. We put on Ferris Bueller’s Day Off and cuddle up with some popcorn. I fall asleep on the couch about halfway through the movie, but Marie wakes me up and helps me into bed.

  Chapter 7

  The next morning I wake Marie ten minutes earlier than usual. I lead her into the kitchen where I have a plate of sixteen pancakes piled high with a glittery pink candle on top.

  “You remembered,” she says, wiping the sleep from her eyes.

  “Of course I remembered!” I say, pretending to be offended. “I did it every year since I could cook. After I left, I sent the supplies to make them during your birthday week, but I knew Ma would never do it for you,” I say, instantly regretting bringing Ma into it.

  “I managed on my own just fine. I always looked forward to my birthday week, knowing you were thinking of me, too,” Marie says shyly.

  �
��Stop with the sappiness, it’s your birthday! Now blow out that candle,” I order.

  She rushes over and blows the candle out on her first attempt.

  “Happy birthday, Marie,” I say excitedly before handing her the bottle of maple syrup.

  “I’m sorry you have school on your birthday, but I was hoping this would make it a little easier,” I say, pulling the purple gift bag that I had hidden behind the island up onto the counter.

  “Well, I already didn’t mind school, so this is a bonus,” she says enthusiastically.

  “Don’t get too excited until you open it.”

  I hand her the bag and hope for the best. She pulls out the fiery red tank top first. When I saw it in the window display on my way to pick her up from school one day, I knew it would be perfect. It’s ruched along the sides, and the neck dips down into a V.

  “Oh my God, this is incredible; you didn’t have to do this,” she says, feeling the soft material.

  “Fortunately, my sister’s beautiful. She’s kind of easy to dress,” I say with a wink. “So really, it was my pleasure.”

  I watch as she dips her hand into the bag again and comes back with a pair of dark washed Lucky Brand skinny jeans.

  I actually hear her squeal.

  I give myself an inner pat on the back, and am incredibly thankful for my new job and the opportunity to provide for Marie. Of course, once the money from the pawn shop is gone, I’m sure I won’t be able to afford designer jeans, but it can’t hurt to spoil her once on her sweet sixteen.

  “Just one more thing,” I say, pulling a little box out of my back pocket before handing it to her. She opens the box eagerly and sees the new pair of large silver hoops I bought her.

 

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