Five Alarm Christmas: A Firefighter Reverse Harem Romance

by Cassie Cole

  I rushed forward toward the pile of flaming debris. The skin on my thighs and shins burned painfully but I used the hook end of the ax to pull some of the debris off the person, praying that they were okay. Or even alive. My prayers were answered when they pushed up to their feet, shaking their head and gazing around.

  I recognized him immediately, even under all his gear and mask. I knew him with the emotional pull of love. Christian was like a padded yellow angel here to deliver me from hell.

  I gave him back his ax, retrieved Ezra’s still unconscious body, and then followed Christian through the fiery battlefield.

  My skin was so hot I could hardly feel anything, and the pain was enough to make me nauseous. I had to step carefully to avoid anything on fire on the ground; the carpet had quickly burned, but even the underfloor was hot and smoldering.

  Thank God I’d gotten out of my restraints in time to get a respirator.

  We reached the stairwell only to find a pile of debris blocking the door. The ceiling had collapsed, leaving a chest-high pile of flaming wreckage blocking our way. Christian paused to tug at it with his ax but it was too much, and the fire was spreading behind us, urging us on.

  He looked around, uncertain of where to go. Finally he ran a short distance to the right where another door stood against the wall. He shouldered into it and I followed without thought—that’s how hot the flames were on my bare calves.

  We were in a conference room built against the exterior of the building, complete with a long table and a dozen chairs. I carried Ezra inside and dumped him on the table while Christian closed the door behind us.

  He took off his mask, so I did the same. The air was smoky, but much better than the main room we’d just been in. It was breathable, at least.

  “Christian!” I said. His face was flushed and his hair matted with sweat, but he was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen right then. We started to hug and then I winced and jumped back; his turnout gear was as hot as a dish right out of the oven. Now that we were in a somewhat safe area, my own skin felt like it was scalded. Fuck was I lucky.

  I patted his suit, took a few seconds to get used to the heat, then hugged him tight. All the worries about death and fire and smoke melted away. I felt safe in his arms.

  “How the hell did you find me?” I asked.

  “Tell you later. We need to get out of here.”

  “Yeah, good point,” I said. “There’s another stairwell on the other side of the building. I was going to head that way when you showed up.”

  He looked that way as if he could see through the door. “Can we make it that far?”

  “Probably not.” I tapped the door with my palm to make sure it wasn’t too hot to hold, then opened the door a crack. Just enough to get a peek. Already the fire had spread most of the way toward our conference room.

  “Hey! Let me do that!” he said. “You don’t even have gear on!”

  “I’m fine,” I said, closing the door. Even that quick peek had let in enough smoke to make my eyes water. “What do we do, Christian?”

  “I’ll call for help,” he said. “We’ll deal with the shame later.”

  “What shame?”

  “They told me not to come up here alone.” He twisted a dial inside his helmet, then frowned. He banged on the side of the helmet and cursed. “I’ve got only static. Fuck. Fuck!”

  “Maybe it was damaged when the debris fell on you.” There was a conference phone on the table so I leaned over Ezra’s unconscious body. There was no dial tone, of course. “It was worth trying. I don’t suppose you have your cell phone in your pocket? We could call 911. See the other side of things for once.”

  He laughed and gestured. “Even with all this around us you’re cracking jokes?”

  “It’s better than accepting the crippling despair of our situation.”

  “Truer words were never spoken.” He turned toward the outer wall of the room, which was all glass. “Huh. Maybe we can Die-Hard this?”

  I scoffed. Like, I actually scoffed in his face. “If you’re saying what I think you’re saying, that’s not how John McClane escaped. That’s how they killed Hans Gruber.”

  “Details.” He hefted the ax over one shoulder, turned toward the window, and swung with all his strength. A chip of glass flew off the window from where the ax struck, but it did no more damage than that.

  “Yes, details! You know, the thing the devil’s in?”

  He kept swinging, smashing the ax into the conference room window again and again. The fourth strike caused cracks to spiderweb outward from the blow, white lightning against a black sky beyond. The next swing finally smashed through the window, sending most of the pane outward into open air.

  It also caused him to stumble forward, and the ax flew from his hands. “Shit!”

  We leaned as close to the smashed window as we dared. The ax fell through the air before landing on the roof of the warehouse next door.

  “Looks like they put that fire out,” Christian said.

  I didn’t ask what he meant because I was busy surveying the scene below us. Three fire engines were parked far below, their ladders extending high into the sky and shooting jets of water toward us and the two fiery floors below ours. But their ladders fell about 10 stories short of reaching ours, and I could tell they were already extended as far as they would go.

  The hopelessness of the situation quickly set in.

  “Umm,” Christian said. “Maybe I can find a rope or something. We can lower you?”

  I put a hand on his chest. “Christian. You know there’s nothing…”

  “We have to do something!” he insisted. “We can jump. Or maybe sprint across this floor to the other stairwell.”

  I sighed and gestured at Ezra’s unmoving form. “Not without him.”

  Christian flinched. “He’s the one who started this fire, right? Why the hell would you put his life above your own?”

  It was a good question. Most people would have left him, or hell, spit on his body before leaving. The urge to do so was there in the part of my mind that was reserved for anger and frustration and hate.

  But that’s not who I was. I was a firefighter. I rescued people from the flames. I didn’t leave them there. Even someone like Ezra Carter.

  “I won’t leave a living, breathing human to burn to death. No matter who they are.”

  I was afraid he would argue with me, or even carry me out kicking and screaming, but he only nodded. “Maybe I can clear the debris in front of the door with my…” he trailed off and looked at his empty hands. It wasn’t exactly possible without his ax.

  “Yeah…” I said.

  He looked out the window. “Jumping isn’t the worst idea.”

  “It’s not the best, either!”

  “You might be able to land on the engine ladder. They’re only what, 50 feet below us?”

  “More like 100,” I said. “And even if we hit it, we’d break our legs. And probably injure whoever was on the ladder.”

  “I’ll take that over burning to death.”

  I looked out the window into the open space. It was cool and peaceful, in stark contrast with the growing heat coming from the door behind us. It was tempting. The call of the void.

  But my hands trembled just thinking about it.

  “Christian,” I said in a small voice. “I don’t think I can do it. I don’t think I can jump.”

  “Me neither, Amy.”

  There was a soft whoosh, and when we looked behind us the flames had spread underneath the door and up the wood on our side. Something crashed loudly in the main room. More of the ceiling collapsing, probably.

  “We’’re going to die up here,” I said.

  Christian turned and took me by the forearms. He held me strong and looked deep into my eyes.

  “Maybe,” he said. “But if so, we’re going down fighting.”

  His words and the intensity in his voice hardened my own resolve. Enough to give me enough courage to run th
rough the flames outside the door, I hoped.

  “But you need to let me carry him,” he said.

  I put my hands on my hips. It was a natural reaction. “Why? Because I’m a woman?”

  “Because I can carry more than you. I can squat 525.”

  “Holy shit!” I said. “Why haven’t you put that record up on the gym chalkboard?”

  “I didn’t want to brag!”

  “Yeah, you take him.” I started to put on my respirator, but he snatched my forearm to stop me.

  He gave me a long kiss, holding me close in his strong arms. His lips tasted like the inside of a charcoal grill but I loved the taste and wished it would never end.

  “If I die,” he said, flames glowing in his blue eyes. “I want your lips to be the last thing I remember.”

  I kissed him again, a quicker peck on the lips. “There are worse ways to go.”

  We pulled our masks on. Christian hefted Ezra over one shoulder, and I had to admit he carried the weight easier than I did. I was woman enough to admit when I was bested.

  There was another crash on the other side of the door. The ceiling collapsing further, and maybe even blocking us in the conference room. I tried not to think about jumping out the window.

  Christian took hold of the door handle. We had a long way to run through fire and smoke. We weren’t going to make it. But together we had hope, and that was something.

  He threw open the door.

  We were greeted with a terrifying scene. There were more flames than smoke now, and the burst of heat scalded my skin so bad I recoiled from the doorway. Every cubicle wall ahead of us was covered in flame, little squares of orange and yellow. There was no way I could run through that without protection.

  I can with Christian by my side.

  We charged into the breach, but never got the chance.

  To our right the wreckage in front of the stairwell suddenly gave way, heaving toward us. An ax swung down into the debris, cutting the flaming ceiling tiles to pieces and scattering the remains. A boot kicked the rest of it outward in our direction. A little square of ceiling foam smacked against my leg and stuck there for a second.

  I screamed and kicked frantically, eventually using my other foot to knock it off my leg. My shin was a grotesque black and white color, but it didn’t hurt at all. I knew that was bad. Third degree burns didn’t hurt because the nerve endings were destroyed.

  A problem for later, when the rest of my body was safe.

  Two firefighters strode through the gap in the debris and flinched when they saw us. They beckoned, and Christian and I quickly followed them into the open stairwell.

  Down we went through the smoke-filled corridor. We must have descended six floors before it cleared enough to see, a sign that the fire was spreading rapidly through the building. I waited three more floors before finally removing my respirator. The air was cool and sweet on my cheeks and in my lungs.

  “I recognize that ass even in turnout gear,” I said. “Sparky!”

  Half a stairwell ahead of me, he removed his mask and let it hang from his neck. “We should have been dancing right now, Netty.”

  “I know.”

  “Four or five drinks deep, just tipsy enough to let our bodies relax into the rhythm of the music. Letting the stress of our job wash away.”

  “Nice to see you too.”

  Next to him, Angel removed his mask. “You didn’t recognize my ass in the turnout gear?”

  “Oh, I did,” I said. “But I know Sparky needs the positive reinforcement more.”

  Angel looked over his shoulder and stopped on the next stairwell landing. “Holy shit, you look hot. I mean, sexy. In that dress.”

  “You were right the first time. I’m hot. I’ve got some burns that are going to hurt like hell—literal hell—in a few minutes.”

  “If I’d known you looked like that in a dress I would have invited you to salsa sooner,” Angel said.

  “Not that I’m not flattered,” I said while laughing, “but can we wait until we’re on the ground to objectify me?”

  On the next step my leg gave out and I crumpled to the landing, hitting my shoulder against the wall. My left knee was a lightning bolt of hot pain. An injury incurred somewhere above but muted from adrenaline, until now.

  Sparks wrapped his arms underneath me, lifting me up against his chest with ease. “Hello there.”

  “Hiya,” I said.

  “I’m gunna rub this in later,” he said. “Just be ready for it.”

  “After tonight? I’ll let you.”

  “It’s not fair you get to carry the girl while I carry the fucking arsonist,” Christian muttered.

  I touched Sparks’s face. “Okay, I guess you get a good enough mask seal despite that bird’s nest.”

  He grinned. “Told you.”

  Down we descended, toward the ground and the safety it offered.

  39

  Sparks

  I didn’t want to let her go. Not now, not ever again.

  But when we reached the ground floor she started squirming like an angry toddler. “No, seriously, let me down. I don’t want the other firefighters seeing me getting carried out like some helpless damsel in distress.”

  Finally I put her down, but I kept an arm around her to help her limp along. The skin on her leg was a sickly shade of yellow already. A bad sign.

  “The Captain is furious!” one of the other firemen yelled. We ignored them and went to a nearby ambulance, where Christian handed off Ezra’s body. The paramedics pulled off the emergency respirator and started inspecting him.

  “That’s the man who started the fire,” Amy said. “He’s a suspected arsonist.”

  One of the paramedics blinked. “Arsonist? Are you sure?”

  She sat on the edge of the ambulance while one of them tended to her leg. “Trust me.”

  Christian rounded on me and Angel. “I told you not to follow me.”

  “Good thing we’re bad at following directions,” I said. “You guys looked like you were about to be burned black.”

  “How did any of you find me? Amy asked. “Not that I’m not grateful…”

  We explained how we tracked her down through her old unit. Then when the call came in, we knew exactly where she must have been.

  “And if I wasn’t in the tower?” she asked.

  “Let’s not think about that,” Christian said.

  “Amy!” Vazquez came jogging over. In his full gear he leaned over the paramedic tending to her and hugged her tight. She buried her head in his shoulder.

  An awkward moment passed between me, Christian, and Angel. Sharing Amy among ourselves was one thing, but we didn’t like seeing anyone else comforting her.

  It shocked me how possessive I was of her. The feeling was tight in my chest. She was our Amy, damnit.

  “I told you he was an arsonist!” she said.

  Vazquez put up his hands. “I’ll never doubt you again.” He looked past me. “Uh oh. I’m gunna skedaddle this way…”

  He retreated back to his engine as the Captain in charge strode over. He was the only one not wearing turnout gear, so it was easy to tell who he was. That and the fury on his face.

  “Are you the ones who went in?” he demanded. “You three?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “You disobeyed a direct order. Several direct orders!”

  “We had a woman inside,” Christian said. “We had to get her.”

  “I don’t give a shit if you had an entire orphanage inside! I already had one team moving floor by floor, and I didn’t have the manpower to rescue you if anything happened! Do you know what I ought to do to you…”

  I ignored him and bent down to hug Amy. “Seriously, you look hot in that dress,” I whispered.

  She grinned up at me. “I look hot out of it, too.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that.”

  We hugged while the Captain’s voice washed over us like an angry hum.

  40

 
Amy

  Ezra woke up 30 minutes later and promptly confessed to everything. He was like a tape recorder on fast forward, spilling his guts like he was running out of time. He wept while doing it, though I assumed that was more about getting caught than about feeling genuine remorse for his actions. They found security footage from a nearby Quick Mart where he’d bought and filled every five-gallon gas tank in the store.

  I went to the hospital to get my leg treated. The burn was about the width of a pencil across the front of my shin, not large enough to require skin grafts. They still put me on an IV drip and wrapped the area in special bandages. I told my boys—my boys—they didn’t need to stay with me, but they ignored my protests and camped out in the hospital room. One of the nurses told them they couldn’t stay there overnight. Sparks stared him down until he left without another word.

  Honestly? I was glad to have them with me. Their presence alone was comforting.

  I was poked and prodded by nurses through the night, with the occasional bit of sleep mixed in. I woke to find Sparks and Christian leaning on each other in their chairs, snoring loudly. Angel was curled up in the corner like a sexy puppy dog.

  As soon as I was discharged that morning I got a call to visit the Fire Inspector’s office. It was a weird hybrid office between a police station and fire department. Other detectives were there in the office room taking notes.

  Cynthia was there, too.

  We hugged and she immediately broke into tears. “I think I knew,” she told me. “Deep down I knew something was wrong with my Ezra but I didn’t want to admit it. I had so much on my mind with the fire, and the baby, and…”

  “Shh,” I said. “It’s not your fault.”

  She looked at me through her tears. “Your pie was delicious!”

  We laughed and hugged and cried some more.

  The Fire Inspector was an old man with a grey mustache and kind eyes. I told him about every case I’d worked that Ezra was potentially involved in. A detective fetched me a cup of coffee, but it cooled before I could drink it because we were too busy going over cases. We took a break, I reheated it in the microwave, and then it cooled again while we talked. The other detectives asked pointed questions here and there. I was treated like an expert witness, which gave me the confidence to bring up every little clue I’d found.