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As Abby swings out the door, Nicole steps up on my right and rests her cheek against my shoulder.
“You deserve a sweet man to sweep you off your feet.” She hugs my arm and squeezes to reinforce her love. “You deserve to have a good man in your life, Hannah.”
“Yeah.”Too bad I was so certain that good man was Axel Feeney.
I lick my bottom lip and nibble as intrusive thoughts take over my mind.
Because I’m not stacking, or packaging, or baking, or running, my brain has room to overthink and hurt me.
Axel ticked all the boxes and made my heart stupid and mushy. But in the end, he smashed it to pieces and added a new insecurity to my already-long list. I was nothing but a one night stand.
Which was the deal I made, I guess. One night only.
But the secret whore bullshit was a bonus I wasn’t expecting. And somehow, it’s worse that we never even got to finish. Like completion could somehow make the waves of humiliation and hurt swirling in my blood any less potent.
Fuck Axel Feeney. Fuck what he thinks of me. And wherever he is, fuck that place, too.
I have a catering empire to build now. And dinner to attend. And flowers to kill.
Go me.
Axel
DEBTS TO PAY
“We have a westerly wind, and a late season heat index that’s gonna light this place up like the trees are matchsticks and not pine. We already know the summer was brutal, and rain was minimal, which means when we get down there, you’re gonna want to create a firewall. Cut this bitch off before she gets her legs under her.”
Jackson O’Toole is my lieutenant now, shouting to be heard over the roar of a Casa 212 twin engine.
Where I used to ride a truck into battle, I now fly in a plane.
Where I used to grab a hose and run toward a building, I now strap on a chute and jump straight into the belly of the dragon.
“Check your equipment.” O’Toole stops at the door and slides it open so the roar of wind only grows louder. “We’re jumping in thirty.”
“Helmet on.” Ruiz was always a smoke jumper, even when he was dating Cootes. While she did the truck thing, he did the plane thing, and the fact they met during a training exercise Nixon set up with Ruiz makes us working together now all the more… meaningful, I guess.
He’s a dude who was once in love, and now she’s gone. He doesn’t much give a fuck if he lives or dies these days. And I… well, it’s not that I’m suicidal or anything. But jumping into fire should give a man pause, right? Any normal, healthy, sane man who doesn’t wanna burn to a crisp and leave his loved ones crying would typically take a moment to stop and pray.
But much like Ruiz has given up on caring, I, too, have shed myself of those reasons for prayer. Hannah’s gone, and my sister is happy with Preston. June still calls me, but even those come less often these days.
Especially when I rarely call her back.
They’re letting go, just like I’d hoped they would.
“Get ready.” Ruiz slaps the back of my shoulder and pushes me toward the door. “I’m on your six, and I’m gonna drop a fuckin’ chainsaw on your head if you don’t land right.”
“I got it.”
I approach the door and look out at the two million acres of forest that surround the mountains. But I don’t see green. I don’t see prosperity and life and all the pretty shit. I see smoke. Flames. Wildlife fleeing, and trees falling.
I set my helmet on my head and snap the straps into place. Then pulling goggles over to protect my eyes, I nod and glance up. “Ready to go.”
Lieutenant O’Toole grabs my chute and holds me at the door, so when the pilot’s voice echoes through the device in my ear—and go!—he pushes, and I jump.
Wind races up at me, fighting my progress toward the ground, while gravity battles it out and drags me closer. And for all the time those two work through their drama, I float. And fly. I flatten my body and take my sweet-ass time to study the horizon and look toward the lowering sun.
It’s beautiful up here, flying the way humans were never supposed to.
