“…how much money did he cost the taxpayers with that show?”
“Curry—” Pilsner starts, but Curry’s on a roll.
“He’s got to be out of his mind. You know he hasn’t been the same since she died—now he’s diverting equipment from actual emergencies to fish her cat out of his own damn tree?”
Chief catches sight of me standing outside his office door. “King,” he says, and Curry’s mouth snaps shut. “I’m glad you’re here. Come on in.”
I come in, shoving my hands in my pockets, ready to get dressed down like nobody’s ever been dressed down before. “Chief, let me explain—”
“Just have a seat, King.” He gives Curry a baleful side-eye. “You too, Curry.”
We both sit down. Curry is almost shaking, he’s so worked up. He pointedly refuses to look at me. Pilsner pushes to his feet.
“So here’s the thing,” he says. “No, it’s not the best thing to call out the trucks on your own cat.”
“I told you—”
“Shut up, Curry,” Chief snaps.
Curry shuts up.
“However…” Chief pauses, waiting to see if Curry will interrupt again. For once, Curry demonstrates some intelligence and keeps his mouth shut. “However,” Chief repeats, “that video has gone nuts on the Internet. Something like 200,000 shares on Facebook alone. People love it.”
Curry snorts in disbelief. “You have got to—”
“What part of ‘shut up’ did you not understand?” Chief growls. His attention shifts to me. “Every news station in the metro area wants an interview with you. I’ve got the media department for the district talking to the person who took the video—we want to buy the rights and put pictures up on our website. We’ve got donations pouring in from everywhere—even outside the state of Washington. This is a windfall for us, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to look a gift horse in the mouth, no matter how this came about.”
I glance sidelong at Curry, trying to fight back my own smirk. Curry’s face has gone scarlet. He’s so angry I can feel it coming off him in waves. There’s certainly no point bringing up the reason the cat was out in the tree in the first place, not after Curry’s been smacked down so hard. And he can’t very well claim credit for what happened, not without admitting he broke into my house.
“Would you believe me if I said it was my idea?” I ask Pilsner.
“No, King. I would not.” He hesitates, coming about as close to a smile as he ever does. “But if you did, good job. We’re going to be able to expand our educational programs, neighborhood outreach—you name it. Stroke of genius.”
I nod, grinning. “So…you said some people want to interview me?”
“Yeah. A lot of people.” He picks up the phone on his desk. “Let me get the PR department on the line so they can talk to you.”
With an incomprehensible but definitely angry sound, Curry gets up and storms out of the office. I glance after him. Pilsner is focused on the phone call. “I’ll be right back,” I tell him, and follow Curry.
Curry’s heading for the men’s room. Good. I trail him in, everything in me primed for a fight. It’s quiet inside—apparently nobody in the department needs to pee at the moment. The door swings shut behind me, and I turn and lock it. When I face Curry, he’s staring at me.
“The fuck is your problem, King?”
I let the anger go. Before I quite realize what I’m doing, I’ve got him by the collar and I’ve pinned him to the wall. “Don’t you stand there and act like you don’t know what you did, Curry.”
“I don’t know—”
“The fuck you don’t know. You broke into my house. You scared the hell out of my girlfriend. You ever—ever—do anything like that again, and I will end you. You understand me?”
“You could lose your job over this, King.” Even with his face turning purple and my fists clenched against his windpipe, Curry’s still trying to hold it together. He still thinks he’s got the upper hand. Somehow.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I’m clenching his shirt so hard my fingers ache. “Are you seriously fucking kidding me with this shit?” I let him go, shoving at him so he sags to the side, nearly slamming into the nearby urinal. “The minute the election is over, you are done. You will never work as a firefighter again. You may never work anywhere again. You hear me?”
“Is that a threat?”
Oh my God, with this guy. “Yes, it’s a threat. What the fuck did you think it was? A proposition?”
His face has gone white, and his hands are shaking. Everything he’s doing now is just posturing, I realize. It’s a good thing he’s in the john already, because I have a serious feeling he’s about to shit his pants. I take another step toward him, and he flinches.
“You stay away from me. You stay away from my house, my cat, my girlfriend, my family—you just stay away. If I see you anywhere near anything important to me again, the only fire you’ll ever put out is the one that starts when I rip your goddamn balls out and shove them down your throat. Are we clear?”
He just stares at me. There it is. The fear. That’s what I want to see.
“I said are we clear?”
“Yes,” he finally says.
“Then get the fuck out of my face.”
There’s another moment where I just glare at him. Then, finally, he ducks away from me and leaves the men’s room. A few minutes later, when I’ve calmed down a little, I head back to Pilsner’s office. Time for me to embrace my celebrity.
There’s no sign of Curry the next day, even though we’re supposed to be sharing the same shift. That’s fine by me. I never want to see his stupid fucking face again. And it’s not long before I’m too busy to worry about it. There’s a grass fire in one of the nearby parks, and though it’s not a disaster, it’s a bit tricky.
We handle it, though, and I head back to the truck, the other guys trailing behind me. Time to call in to headquarters, let them know we’re done, and then see if I can get away for an hour or so to have lunch with Maddy.
The dispatch radio is full of chatter when I climb into the cab. Apparently there’s another fire, this time a house fire. I’m only half listening—they won’t send us out on another fire right away—but then I hear more of the discussion.
It’s my neighborhood.
I grab the mic from the dashboard. “Dispatch. Repeat that address, please.”
There’s a pause. “Sir, we need responses from available units right now. Please clear this channel.”
I stab my thumb into the button again. “Dispatch, it’s King. Please repeat the address.”
Another pause. Then she repeats the address.
It’s not just my neighborhood. It’s my fucking house.
“Shit!” Around me, the other guys are just cluing in to the fact something unpleasant is going down. I wave frantically. “Get this truck sorted! We’re moving. Now! Now!”
They get in gear pretty damn fast, but it seems like three or four hours pass before we’re on the road again. All I can think about is Maddy and Christopher, at home alone. I know my smoke alarms are in order, but are they okay? How bad is the fire? Did they get out? My heart’s pounding hard all the way there as we run with the lights and sirens. I’ve never been so scared in my life.
Whitaker seems to read my mood. He’s sitting very still in the passenger seat next to me, up front, while the other guys are just as quiet in the back. “She’ll be okay,” he says.
“God, I hope so.”
I see the smoke long before we get there. It’s thick and black—blacker than it should be. I’m too focused on just getting there to worry about that question.
We pull up in front, and the guys immediately set to work getting the truck ready. Everyone’s professional and focused except for me. I’m frantically looking for Maddy. For Christopher. Where are they? God, are they still in the house?
Then I see them through the smoke, standing in the front yard of the house across the street. I almost hit th
e ground right there; I’m so relieved my knees want to give out. Maddy’s holding Christopher, cradling him against her chest, and as I get closer I can tell they’re both crying. Maddy’s face is bone white.
“Maddy.” I half run to her and hug them both. “Are you okay?”
“I’m okay.” Her voice is shaking. “I don’t know what happened. The smoke alarms just started going off, and I grabbed Christopher and ran…”
“It’s okay. As long as you guys are safe.” I hesitate. “Where’s Thor?”
“I don’t know.” She starts to sob. “I didn’t stop to look. Jesse, I’m so sorry.”
I nod and kiss her forehead. “I’ll be back.”
“God, Jesse, don’t go back in.” She’s on the verge of hysterics, I can tell, and I pull her against me again. “Honey, honey, it’s all right. I just need to check on things, okay?”
That’s what I’m telling her, anyway. Because I’m totally going in after the goddamn cat.
The hoses are ready to go by the time I get back across the street, and the guys set to work. I head toward the house.
“Chief!” Whitaker calls. “You’re not going in there?”
“I am.”
“Dude, everybody’s out.”
I shake my head. “Gotta find the cat.”
Whitaker opens his mouth then closes it. Nobody’s going to argue with me, not after the brouhaha the media made about the cat in the first place. It would look pretty awful if we just let Thor die now. That’s not the only reason I’m going in, though. I don’t want to lose that damn cat just when he was starting to act like he might like me.
I don’t want to lose my sister again.
Inside, the smoke is thick and, again, blacker than it should be. This time the pieces fall together. I can smell gasoline. Did something in the garage go up? The lawn mower?
I scan the front rooms—no Thor. My heart’s beating hard again, and I can’t tell if it’s adrenaline from the fire or because I’m genuinely that upset about the cat. Both, maybe. I check inside the litter box, inside the open crate I use to take him to the vet. Check the bathrooms, the kitchen. Nothing.
Upstairs, maybe? I head that way. There’s a shadow up on the landing, and as I reach the top I realize it’s another firefighter. Who got here before we did? I didn’t see a truck outside.
He’s coming out of the main bedroom, and I realize it’s Curry in full fire gear.
“Did you see the cat?” I ask him, yelling over the flames.
He just shakes his head.
“Help me look!” I holler at him, and suddenly there’s a whoosh of heat and air as something explodes in the main bedroom. “Shit.” Was Thor in there? If he was… I push toward the door, shoving Curry out of the way. He plants his feet like he doesn’t want to be moved. “Move it, you fucking moron!”
“Shut your fucking mouth,” Curry snaps back, and I freeze. “Thirty years on this job and you come in and think you can walk all over me? You think you’re actually going to be fire chief?”
What. The fuck. I stare at him. He’s not seriously having it out with me in the middle of a fucking fire, is he?
He is.
“Stupid prick!” he shouts right into my face. “That job is mine! It should be mine! You don’t fucking deserve it!”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I shove at him again. “We’re in the middle of a goddamn fire. Get your shit together, Curry!”
He shoves me back. “Fuck you, King. You don’t get to tell me what to do. You’re going to burn. Everything you love, I’m going to take it from you.”
Then it hits me. This is his fault. He got here before we did because he started the fire. The gasoline was his doing. There was nothing accidental about this. I grab at him again, but he dodges, surprisingly nimble in the heavy fire gear.
“Are you fucking insane?” It’s a rhetorical question at this point—of course he’s fucking insane. Why else would he do this?
He makes a wordless noise and launches himself at me, trying to push me off balance and down the stairs. I dodge and swing a fist at his face. Around us, the smoke is getting thicker, and I know I’ve got to get past Curry if I’m going to check the upstairs rooms for Thor. And I need to do it soon if there’s going to be any hope of finding him.
“Get the fuck out of the way!” I scream at him, but he hauls at my fire suit, swinging me back toward the stairs. I punch at him again and miss. He seems intent on pushing me down the staircase. God. He seriously wants to kill me.
“Thor!” I yell, hoping that might work. Does the stupid cat even know his own name? I hope so—it might be the only chance he has. “Thor! You dumbass piece-of-shit feline! Where are you?”
Curry swings another punch my way, and it catches me in the jaw, a glancing blow but enough to send stars dancing across my vision. Flailing out, I grab at him and pin him against the wall. “Get out of my way!”
He starts wrestling with me again, trying to throw me off balance, and suddenly I hear a scream. Something big and gray lands on the stair rail, making the most god-awful hissing, shrieking racket I’ve ever heard.
It’s Thor. I realize this a split second before Curry does. He’s just staring at the cat, uncomprehending, and while he’s distracted I grab him and shove him toward the stairs. He goes down, thumping and shouting, until suddenly he’s not shouting anymore. I grab Thor and fling myself down the stairs.
Curry’s sprawled at the foot of the stairs, not moving. I step over him on my way out. The smoke has gotten so thick I can barely see the door, but I know where it is, and a few seconds later I’m out into the fresh air.
I hand Thor to the first person I see, who happens to be Whitaker, and turn around to go back in.
“King! What are you doing?” he yells after me.
“Curry,” I throw back over my shoulder. “He’s still in there.”
Head down, I plow back in, through the smoke.
Curry is still at the foot of the steps where I left him, but he’s gotten back to his feet. He seems to be having some difficulty getting oriented—like he can’t figure out where the door is. I grab him by the front of his jacket and drag him toward the front door then outside. Once we’re on the sidewalk, I give him a hard shove, and he ends up back on his knees.
Not for long. I grab him by the collar and jerk him back to his feet then rip his helmet off his head with my free hand. I’m so pissed I can’t even speak—I just start pounding him with my fist.
He could have killed her. He could have killed Maddy. Nothing else matters right now—not my reputation, not my job—nothing but pounding the shit out of this asshole who almost killed the woman I love.
I only manage to get in a few punches, though, before strong hands drag me away. It’s probably for the best, since it might be harder for me to get elected fire chief if I’m indicted for murder. Still, I fight them as they drag me away. Whitaker is yelling at me and it takes me a few seconds to get my head clear enough to understand what he’s saying.
“Back off, King. Maddy’s waiting for you. Maddy wants to see you.”
Maddy. I let the guys steer me across the street to where she’s standing with Christopher in her arms. She’s next to a paramedic truck, and I can see when I get closer that Thor is sitting on a gurney with a tiny oxygen mask over his face. He doesn’t look very happy about it, which I hope means he’s okay.
I run the last few steps toward them, grabbing Maddy up, nearly crushing poor Christopher between us. He’s crying and saying, “Jesse, Jesse,” over and over in his little-boy voice, and Maddy is crying, too. I glance over at Thor, who blinks up at me, and with a laugh I offer him a scratch on the head. In response, he hisses inside the oxygen mask. All I can do is laugh at him.
“Jesse,” Maddy says. “God, Jesse, I was so worried. Are you okay? Are you really okay?”
“I’m fine.” I pull her tighter and feel Christopher’s fists punching at my chest.
“Gotta breathe!” Christopher says, a
nd we all laugh.
I back off a little and tousle Christopher’s hair. “Sorry about that, little guy.” I kiss his forehead.
Then my eyes are all for his mother. I lean down and catch her mouth with mine, kissing her hard, consumed with relief that she’s okay. After a moment she draws back and looks up at me through tear-filled eyes.
“I love you,” she says quietly, so I kiss her again, and hold her close while the guys go back to save whatever they can of my house.
13
Maddy
Maddy
A week later I’m still flinching every time I smell smoke, but at least I know I’m coming home to Jesse every night. While the insurance companies are evaluating the damage to his house, we decided to move in together—again—in a new apartment that belongs to both of us.
We could have moved into my place, but this feels better somehow. It’s a new start, even though probably a temporary one. It’s also bigger than my old place, which is nice.
Jesse lost so much in the fire, but not everything. I was relieved to find out he still had things in storage that had belonged to his sister, and that he also had a good amount of possessions stashed in his basement, which was left nearly undamaged. We have plenty of furniture and clothes, and we’re together. That’s the most important part.
I took a few days off work to help him get things sorted, so I’m at home unpacking boxes when the doorbell rings unexpectedly. Perplexed, I go to check the peephole, and my stomach plummets.
It’s my parents.
Neither of them looks particularly happy, but then again they rarely do, especially when they’re dealing with me. They also hardly ever visit, so I’m wondering why they’ve shown up unannounced. I open the door and let them in.
Christopher runs toward my mom, holding his arms up. She picks him up, albeit not very enthusiastically, but once he’s in her arms, she smiles and tweaks the collar of his shirt.
“Hello there, Christopher.”
Hot as Sin (Contemporary Romance Box Set) Page 39
