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“I knew a guy who actually busted a nut.” He carries on. “Full-on exploded the fucker. Jumped off a roof thinking he was going to make it into this pool. Guy missed it and hit the edge. Ruptured his sac. His ball shot inside him and practically popped out his mouth.”
My balls shrivel up and hide at the mere thought. “For the love of—my balls have heard enough.” We head out to the garage. “Brady, you’re driving.” I toss him the keys to the engine and climb in shotgun. The drive over is painful. Mitchell insists on filling us in on his night with some dominatrix. My chest hurts from laughing by the time we make it to the school.
“All right, boys, let’s make this quick.” Brady parks out front, and I hop down, leaving my jacket in the truck. We head to the front entrance.
A slender woman greets us as we enter the school. “My goodness, thank you so much for doing this. The kids have been asking nonstop. Their poor teacher. It’s her first day, and she almost had to dress up to appease them. I rarely ask my husband to get involved. My gratitude is infinite.” She reaches out her hand. “Mary Caldwell.”
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Caldwell. Captain Ben Wallace. This is Mitchell and Brady. We’re all yours unless we get a call.”
“Absolutely. Please, follow me.”
She rushes inside, and we trek behind her. Mitchell throws me a scowl. “We’re all yours?” he whispers.
Brady slaps his chest. “Chill. We’ll be out of here before you know it. Maybe you’ll even meet one of your secret love children.”
“Fuck off. I don’t have secret babies. Well. . . at least—”
“What was that?” Mary turns around.
“Nothing, ma’am. Admiring the cleanliness of your school.”
Mrs. Caldwell’s cheeks flush. “Oh, thank you. I do my best to keep a tidy environment. Here we are. Ms. Fischer has done an amazing job keeping these kids busy until you arrived.” She knocks on the door, and the woman waves for her to enter through the window.
“Again, they are very excited.”
Mrs. Caldwell turns the knob, and Mitchell leans toward me, whispering, “Kindergarten Cop, man. . .” I swat him away as the door opens and shouts filter through.
“Class, let’s all calm down. We practiced our quiet excitement voices; now let’s try using them.”
“Ms. Fischer, I would like to introduce you and the class to some of our local firefighters.” Mrs. Caldwell steps out of the way, and my stomach bottoms out. Those eyes, plump lips, and perky tits. This time, instead of a tight silk dress, she’s in a white blouse and gray pencil skirt.
“You,” I hiss, taking a menacing step toward her. Her jaw falls to the ground.
“I’m sorry, do you two know one another?” Mrs. Caldwell asks.Oh, I know her all right—
“No, I can’t say we do. Hello, gentlemen. Thank you for coming today. I have a group of children dying to meet you.” Her denial of even knowing me pisses me off more. I fight not to throw her over her desk and spank the shit out of her.
We don’t know each other.
She offers Brady and Mitchell a smile, not even attempting to look my way.
Brady steps forward to shake her hand. “Pleasure, Ms. Fischer. Is there anything in particular you'd like us to go over or show them? I’d love to take them out to the engine.” Now, I’m the one about to bust a nut—as in kick Brady’s so far up his ass, they pop out ofhismouth. He has no idea who he’s flirting with.
“Captain Wallace, are you all right?”
I turn toward Mrs. Caldwell, blinking. “Um. . . yes. Sorry. Let’s get started, shall we?” I slap on a smile and do what I do best: charm the socks off everyone. “Hi class, I’m Captain Wallace, but you can call me Ben. I’m a firefighter.” The kids go nuts in their chairs, clapping and waving. I get it. I remember the first time my dad came to school for career day. He showed up in his full gear, and it was like a superhero had just entered the building. He told us about the fires he put out and the people he saved. I’d already heard them a million times, but I was still on the edge of my seat, hanging on his every word. When it was time to tour the fire engine, Dad pointed to me and told me to show my class how it was done. Being the son of a fire chief, I had plenty of experience with firetrucks and engines, even at the age of five. He let me jump aboard and point out important features and buttons. He even let me turn on the siren in front of my entire class. I felt on top of the world.
“. . . and that’s about it. Pretty cool, huh?” They nod so quick, a few make themselves dizzy. “How about we take a tour of the engine?” The class goes berserk. Ms. Fischer has to reel them in.
“Okay, everyone. Just like we practiced. Single file line.” The class jumps into action like a herd of elephants without direction. “No—a line. One at a time, Billy. Over here. Sarah, you can’t bring your—”
“How about we all line up in front of Mitchell? He knows everything about the fire engine. If you’re good, he’ll pick one special student to turn on the lights.” Mitchell side-eyes me as a kid plows into him.
Brady hides his laugh and helps escort the kids down the hall. When the last one is out the door, I shut it, cutting offMs. Fischer’sescape route.
“Excuse me, I need to go with the children—”
“Oh, you’re not going anywhere.” Her lips part, and she quickly masks her shock with anger.
