Gunnar's Guardian

by Pandora Pine

“Arsonists like to watch things burn. Don’t they?” I remembered reading that somewhere.

  “They do. Listen to all of the 911 calls for the suspected Scorcher fires. I have a feeling he was the one who called 911 at the McMasters’ scene. Learn his voice. See if you recognize it in the crowd. You’ve got your own turnout gear.” Ozzy hooked a finger toward the lockers.

  Without waiting for permission, I bolted from his office. All of the lockers were arranged alphabetically. I stopped at the last name Rossi. With deliberate slowness, I walked down the row of names until I came to one that took my breath away. Prince. Holy fucking shit.

  I reached a hand out to trace over the letters of my name. A name, until now, that had stood for luxury car sales. Today was a new beginning for me. I could feel it in my bones.

  “Try it on,” a familiar voice urged from behind me.

  When I looked over my shoulder, Hal Rossi was standing there with a smile on his face. His phone was in his hand, pointed at me as if he were ready to snap some pictures. I took the jacket off the hook and slipped into it. “Fits like a glove.” I was all smiles. The shutter of Hal’s iPhone clicked.

  “Now the helmet,” he urged.

  The helmet was a thing of beauty. It was black with a shield on the front. Mine said R3 Prince. “What does the R3 stand for? Is that my droid name?”

  Hal laughed. “Three is the firehouse classification and R stands for rookie.”

  I looked down the line at the other helmets. They were each numbered. “I still can’t believe this.” I held the helmet in front of me. Hal’s camera clicked again. I was sure I had some kind of derpy lovesick look on my face. Finally, I stuck the helmet on my head and smiled for the camera.

  I’d never been prouder of myself in my entire life. The first person I wanted to tell about this was Kennedy. Then Mandy and David.

  Funny how I never once thought to send those pictures to my parents.

  25

  Kennedy

  It was a rare night when all four of us weren’t working. Ozzy had invited us over to his place out on Rocky Neck. He wanted to grill steaks and get drunk. I had no problem with either suggestion.

  I’d gone shopping for the meat and potatoes. There was nothing I liked more than rib-eyes cooked over an open fire. There were no such things as cookouts or bonfires when I lived with my mother. It was rare she could afford steak and when she could, it was on sale because it was about to spoil. She’d throw it in a frying pan with some butter. We’d have French fries and some vegetable out of a can.

  I’d nearly lost my mind the first time David grilled for us. I got to be his helper that night. The meat was red and fresh. I scrubbed the potatoes before piercing them and wrapping them in tinfoil. They looked like galactic Tootsie Rolls. He’d also let me season the meat and use the giant fork to set the steaks on the grill. My brothers stayed in the house with Mandy making a salad, while I learned everything there was to know about the art of cookouts.

  Those were the moments that turned me into a man. Even though there were four, and sometimes five or six of us, David always took time with each kid to teach us things and to let us know how special we were.

  When I pulled into Ozzy’s driveway, I could smell the ocean. Next to grilling meat, the sea was my favorite scent. The others were already here. I could see Hennessey’s Harley and Dallas’ Stingray. I let myself in through the open front door. I could hear the others out back.

  Rocky Neck was famous for being an artist’s colony. There were still some shops open on this side of town, but the recession in 2008 hit the artists hard. A lot of them lost their businesses and their homes. That was how Ozzy had been able to buy this house with an incredible view of Gloucester Harbor and Ten Pound Light.

  The little Cape had been run-down when he bought it. I can’t remember how many weekends the four of us spent working on it. We’d installed wood floors and ripped out and remodeled the entire kitchen. The last thing we did was add the deck on the back. There was nothing better than spending the night listening to the sound of the gentle waves lapping the shore.

  “The party can start now!” I announced, as I walked out onto the deck, loaded down with bags of groceries. I’d also brought fixings for smores. They were Ozzy’s favorite. There was a fire roaring in the pit and I could see Hennessey’s cooler filled with ice and bottles of his favorite IPA.

  “It’s about fucking time,” Ozzy grumped. “We’re starving. Where the hell you been?”

  “We know where he’s been,” Dallas said in a knowing tone.

  “You mean who he’s been in!” Hennessey started to laugh.

  I hadn’t said a word about my night with Gunnar. He hadn’t said a word either. It would have gotten back to me if he’d been telling tales. Ozzy had known about my plans with Gunnar. He must have been the one to spill the beans. My brothers knew that if I was taking someone out on a date, it was serious. I wasn’t sure how much I wanted to talk about it with these three. I rolled my eyes instead of answering.

  “Don’t give us that shit.” Hennessey popped the top on a beer and handed it to me. “We all know you went out with the kid.”

  “Actually,” I said casually, taking a seat at the table. “I told Ozzy. I’m not sure how you two cretins found out.” I pointed the neck of my bottle at Dallas and Hen.

  “Good news travels fast, my brother.” Dallas grinned. “We all know you were buttering that little virgin up, so he would open up to you.”

  “Christ, Dallas, you really are a caveman.” I meant that. “I didn’t take Gunnar out to dinner just so I could fuck him later.” That happened to be an unexpected perk.

  “Don’t bullshit us, man.” Ozzy was carrying a tinfoil lined tray with the potatoes on it. He slapped them down on the grill and shut the lid. “I saw that boy today. He was on cloud fucking nine.”

  “He was?” Shit, I hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

  “You’ve got it bad.” Ozzy grinned at me from across the deck.

  “What if I do?” I hadn’t meant to say that out loud either. All three of my brothers were looking at me like I’d sprouted a second head.

  “Okay, what if you do.” Ozzy pulled out the chair next to mine and sat down. He sounded so much like David getting ready to examine a problem. “None of us would have an issue with that if you were sure it’s what you want.”

  I hadn’t expected to hear those words from Ozzy’s lips. Looking around the table, Hen and Dallas were nodding too.

  “Don’t look so shocked.” Dallas got up from the table for another beer. “Mom’s always telling us that we weren’t meant to live solitary lives. Maybe this is where you step off the bachelor path and see what kind of life you could have with Gunnar. I only met him for a minute the night we moved the bed, but Ozzy raves about the kid.”

  “I’ll second that. Every time I talk to him about work, he’s always telling me what a Godsend the kid has been.” Hennessey grinned at me.

  “Just because he’s a hard worker doesn’t mean he’ll be a good…” I trailed off. A good what?

  “Fuckbuddy?” Hennessey suggested.

  “Boyfriend?” Dallas called out.

  “Husband?” Ozzy said quietly.

  I was at a loss. “Look, all I want to do is have a little fun. Can’t blame me for that.” Of course, that wasn’t all I wanted.

  Hen was shaking his head no. “If you can’t be honest with yourself, then how are you going to be honest with him?”

  My brother was making sense. “I like him. I can, uh, see myself with him, but I don’t know what that looks like.” Christ, I wasn’t making any sense at all.

  “Why are you being so hard on yourself?” Dallas looked like he had more to say but was choosing his words carefully.

  “None of you are hooked up with anyone. You don’t understand what this is like for me. What if…”

  “What if you act like the asshole boyfriends your mother kept bringing home?” Ozzy walked to the grill to turn the potatoes
. “What if you act like Dad?” I knew Ozzy purposely called him Dad instead of David.

  That question hit me hard. It was my biggest fear. Yet another reason I ran from relationships before they got too serious. “I always thought that if I ended up acting like someone, it would be one of the dirtbags.”

  “Why?” Hen asked carefully. “You came to live with us when you were ten. That means you had ten years with motherfuckers and the last twenty years with Dad. Why would you think the bad you experienced would outweigh the good?”

  Hennessey was making one hell of a good point. Again. “I guess it’s been my defense mechanism. Every time I would start getting serious, I’d ask myself if this was when I would start acting like one of them.”

  “Maybe it’s time to cut that shit and give Gunnar a real chance.” Ozzy turned back to face me. “He’s a good kid. Everyone at the station loves him. He’s reliable and dependable. The guys confide in him and he with them. You know how hard it is to break into the brotherhood. Your boy did it seamlessly.”

  “He doesn’t really talk a lot about work.” Come to think of it, Gunnar didn’t really talk a lot at all.

  “Tonight might be a good time to let him lead with his good news.” Ozzy waggled his eyebrows at me as if to say he knew something I didn’t.

  “Good news? What good news?” Gunnar had good news? Why hadn’t he told me? Maybe because I hadn’t been in touch with him since I’d left for work this morning without much more than a goodbye. Christ, I really was a dickhead.

  “I’ll leave that for him to tell you.” Ozzy set a hand on my shoulder. “I know this is all new for you. It’s all new for him too. Talk to Gunnar about your feelings and listen when he tells you about his.”

  Could I really do this? Be in a relationship? It was worth a try and Gunnar was the person I wanted to be with. “Yeah. I can do that.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I felt lighter somehow.

  The first thing I needed to do was call Gunnar and see if he’d had dinner yet. There was more than enough food to go around. I could chill with my brothers any time but this opportunity with Gunnar might not be available forever.

  Digging my phone out of my pocket I punched the button for Gunnar’s number and held my breath.

  26

  Gunnar

  Kennedy had lost his mind. I was convinced of that after the bizarre two-minute phone call I just had with him. He started off by asking if I’d eaten, and then interrupted himself by asking if I was home, before interrupting himself again to apologize for the way he’d run out of the house this morning.

  By the time we’d hung up, the only real information I’d gotten out of him was that he was coming over and bringing some kind of dinner. He’d said something about coming from Ozzy’s house, so I knew that gave me a little bit more time than usual to prepare for his arrival.

  I’d barely had enough time to brush my teeth and run a comb through my hair before the doorbell chimed. Kennedy didn’t just ring it once, he rang it seven or eight times. It sounded like Quasimodo was ringing the bells of Notre Dame in my kitchen.

  I don’t know why, but I took my time walking toward the front door. Kennedy had been in a hurry to get out of the house this morning, and now here he was, twelve hours later, in a hurry to get back in. I wasn’t going to make it so easy for him.

  My entire day had been spent going back and forth about what happened last night in my mind. Half of the time I was over the moon, the other half I was panicking about what Kennedy’s early morning disappearing act meant. I supposed his eagerness to see me now had to do with him realizing what a dick move it had been or he was coming over to tell me in person that last night was a mistake. If it was the latter, I couldn’t imagine why he was asking me if I’d had dinner.

  There was no time like the present to find out what the hell was going on with him. Taking one last deep breath, I opened the door. He looked out of breath and his blue eyes were wild with some emotion I couldn’t quite put my finger on. “Hey.” It wasn’t the most eloquent thing I could’ve said in the moment, but I was still trying to figure out what the hell was going on with Kennedy and those eyes.

  “Hey, yourself. I’m a total dick, so I brought you some food.” He held up a bag and pushed past me into the townhouse.

  I was still standing at the door wondering what the hell had just happened, when I heard dishes rattling in the kitchen. It was obvious Kennedy was settling in for a bit of a stay. I shut and locked the door before walking into the kitchen to see what the hell he was doing. He was pulling freshly grilled steaks out of a Tupperware container. “What is all of this?”

  “Ozzy invited all of us over for dinner and some beers.” With those words, Kennedy pulled two bottles out of the bag before reaching for what I guessed were potatoes wrapped in tin foil.

  That was the first thing Kennedy had said so far that made any sense. “Okay, so you were at Ozzy’s having a cookout. That I understand. What I don’t understand, is how you ended up here.”

  Kennedy sat down hard. His eyes had gone from looking wild to wounded. “I had so much to do today, but instead of explaining all of that to you like I should have done, I was up and out the door before I could think better of it. I meant every word I said last night about wanting to see where things with you would go. I’m just not sure I know how to do that.”

  I sat down in the seat across the table from him and fiddled with the tin foil covering my potato. It was still hot, and I could smell the char on it. Dealing with the potato gave me a few seconds to myself to think over what he had just said. It made absolute sense. “I don’t know how to do this either. Before you, I was with one guy and got caught in the act. Needless to say, he wasn’t exactly all fired up to see me again after that. To make matters worse, I was too embarrassed to call and apologize.” I finally managed to get the wrapping off the potato. I set it aside and looked up at Kennedy who wore a hopeful expression.

  “The guys knew about what happened last night.”

  Kennedy didn’t have to explain what he meant. “I suppose that’s my fault. I was happier than usual at work today and Ozzy knew we had gone out together last night. He must have figured the rest out for himself. I suppose it shouldn’t be a surprise that he told your other brothers.”

  “Good news travels fast, or some bullshit like that. They always like to one up each other with gossip, especially if it has to do with one of us.” Kennedy rolled his eyes as if he’d had enough with his brothers.

  Having been raised an only child, I had no idea what that was like. “What did they say?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to know, but straightened my spine for his answer.

  “You know Ozzy is crazy about you. All he ever does is talk about how much he loves working with you.”

  I was expecting to hear that from Ozzy. “What about Hennessey and Dallas?” I hadn’t even met Hennessey and only met Dallas briefly. I couldn’t imagine they had much of an opinion on me either way.

  “They both want what’s best for me. They always have. I guess it wasn’t until today that I realized I wanted the same thing.” Color rose high on Kennedy’s cheeks. “I’ve never been anyone’s boyfriend before.”

  “Neither have I.” Is that what Kennedy wanted? Did he want to be my boyfriend? Did he want us to be a couple?

  “Ozzy said you have some good news. He wouldn’t tell me what it was, but would only say that I had to ask you.”

  Obviously, Kennedy was still all over the place. Were we a couple? Hell if I knew. What I did know, was what happened to me today. “Ozzy asked me to become an expert on The Scorcher. He wants me to read up on all of the reports filed about the arsons from the police, fire department, and EMS. He also wants me to ride along on every fire that could be connected to the arsonist.”

  Kennedy’s mouth hung open. “That’s an amazing promotion. How do you feel about it?”

  “I’m pretty excited that your brother has this much confidence in me. Before I started working at the firehouse,
I had no idea what direction my life was supposed to go in. The more time I spend around Ozzy and the others, I want my life to be spent helping other people.”

  “That deserves a toast.” Kennedy popped the top off his bottle of beer and waited for me to do the same. “To you, Gunnar. You are one a million.”

  “Thank you.” The words weren’t exactly a ringing endorsement of undying love, but I would take it. I didn’t even know if I was in love with Kennedy. I suppose it was asking too much for him to have figured it out for himself. I knocked our bottles together and took a long drink before I could spill the thoughts in my mind.

  “I’m glad Ozzy left it for you to tell me, rather than hearing it from him. When do you start?”

  “I got my department-issued laptop today. Hal Rossi spent the afternoon showing me how to read the various reports and how to access the 911 calls on the nights of the fires. What I was doing before you called was going through each of the arsons case-by-case and examining the documents and calls associated with each individual fire. Ozzy says a lot of arsonists like to watch the fires burn, so I’ll be keeping an eye on the crowds that show up to watch fires in the future. I’ll try to grab some pictures if I can.”

  “That sounds a little dangerous. If the arsonist is there and sees you taking photographs of the crowd, he could likely come after you.” Concern marred Kennedy’s handsome face.

  I hadn’t thought of it like that. A frisson of fear ran through my body. “I plan to take pictures on the sly, but I guess you make a good point. He could be watching all of us as well as watching the fire.”

  “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

  “Why do you think he’s doing this?” It was the question that had been on the tip of my tongue since Kennedy first told me there was an arsonist praying on the city of Gloucester.

  “I don’t know. Some arsonists just like to see things burn, while others have a grudge to settle or a bone to pick with someone or some company. Since arsons in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts are usually investigated by the state fire marshal, it’s not something we learned a lot about at the Academy. If I had to make a guess, this person started out with abandoned mill buildings and homes as a way to hone his craft, and now has moved on to residences where families live. I’m no psychiatrist, but it sounds to me as if he’s escalating toward an endgame only he can see.”