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Blaze. He’s an addiction. The man I can’t get enough of.
But I have to be careful—there’s way too much I don’t know about him. Too much he’s not sharing.
I need to guard my heart if I don’t want to feel the same crushing disappointment I felt this morning every time he runs off to be a hero to someone else.
Chapter 12
Blaze
We’rethe third company to arrive at an eight-alarm fire in Manhattan—some ritzy high-rise apartment with flames coming out the windows at the very top.
Lia parks Big Red at base behind the other two fire trucks and our crew pours out, each member doing his—and her—job.
The officer in command of the first crew briefs me. “Join staging on the eighteenth floor. The fire is on the top three floors and spreading. Ladder 54 is securing elevators and HVAC.”
I bark orders for my crew to enter the building with their self contained breathing apparatus and start running in the hoses with nozzles and adaptors up the stairs. The pathway to the stairwell has already been marked in yellow fire tape and my crew takes the eighteen flights of stairs like champs. Once we reach staging, we’re briefed on the situation. The fire has reached the twentieth floor and not all apartments have been checked for occupants.
Our company continues up the stairs to help get the fire under control, bringing our tools for forcible entry to get in the apartments. Black smoke thickens the hallway, heat seeping through our turnouts. Sprinklers are on, but they don’t seem to have enough pressure. Hopefully one of the companies on the ground is working that problem out. We work our way through the apartments, breaking in and checking for occupants.
A dog’s frantic bark pulls Lia toward the next apartment. She points toward it and I nod, helping her get the door open. The fire has consumed half the place, making it difficult to see. The dog runs toward us, but then stops, barking.
Lia squats down and pats her leg to call the dog, but it continues to bark, then run in a circle and bark again. Normally a dog would run out as fast at it can. Animals aren’t stupid. If the dog won’t leave, that means it’s staying for something. Or someone.
I head toward it and it runs toward the fire.
Shit. Who’s back there?
I push forward, Lia right behind me. The rest of our company follows in with the hose. I check under the bed—a common place for children to hide when there’s a fire. Nothing.
That’s when we see him. A kid no more than ten years old is slumped in a closet, his exit blocked by a caved in ceiling.
I start trying to haul the debris away to get to him, but Lia gets right down on the floor and army crawls underneath it, getting to the unconscious boy. She hooks an arm around his chest and drags him back the way she got in.
There’s no way I could’ve fit through that gap—no way any of the other company members could have.
In this moment, I’m damn proud of Lia. Of my crew for having a woman on the team who can do things the rest of us can’t.
My impulse is to help her up—to take the boy from her because I’m stronger, but I resist. Lia’s working hard to prove herself, and I’d be the biggest ass if I took this moment from her.
Instead, I let her scramble up and carry the kid out, the loyal dog right on her heels, protecting his charge.
* * *
Lia
The news camerascatch me emerging with the boy and dog. Later, when the fire is out, they get my name and ask me questions about how long I’ve been on the squad and what it’s like to be the only woman.
Knowing this is PR for the whole department, I keep it one hundred percent upbeat and positive. We just put out a fire in Manhattan—these people might be the kind who want to donate to our fundraisers.
To my utter humiliation, the whole crew watches the evening news at the station over a spaghetti dinner. There I am—covered in soot and looking almost as small as the boy I have slung over my shoulder.
Then they cut to me with my helmet and SCBA off. “So what’s it like to be the only woman on your crew?”
I sound like a politician running for mayor. “It’s an absolute honor. I’ve wanted to be a firefighter my whole life and working with these guys is a dream come true.”
Rocket leaps from his seat, affecting a fairytale princess pose and using a high-pitched voice. “I just love working with the dreamy guys at Ladder 61!” he mimics.
“Shut up.” I throw my balled up napkin at him.
