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“You already have a full crew.” I tilt my head back in the direction of the bays. “I counted five. And with the brass already discussing chief, I doubt they’re gonna squeeze another firefighter into the budget purely for nostalgia.”
“Dawson’s a temp transfer.” He twirls that pen in a way that it almost becomes a meditative focus for me. “He’s here for a couple weeks more, then we gotta request our new member.”
He tosses his pen, so I startle when it lands with a thud. Sitting forward in his chair, he sets his elbows on the desk and stares into my eyes. “If you’re gonna walk in and out based on the season, then I have no room for you, Axe. And if you’re gonna run every time bad shit happens, then I don’t want you.
“Our house is in a period of transition right now, especially if Collier’s out. If they move me up to chief, they’re gonna need a new lieutenant. None of the rest of the crew, nor you, have that rank. Which means strange is on the way in, and that person becomes truck boss. If they give us a new chief instead, I go back to the truck with my squad, and we work through the change of authority together. Either way, Dawson’s leaving, and a new face is coming in. So where are you gonna stand, Feeney? In or out?”
“Lew… I don’t—”
“You have a week to decide,” he cuts in. “Bring me cake every single day of that week. If you miss a delivery, I’ll choose someone else to fill the spot, purely out of spite.”
“Well, that’s not very mature.” But I snigger. “Cake is not a good way to make business decisions, Lew.”
“Chief,” he bites out.
But he smirks when I glance up.
“And cake is the bonus on top,” he says more seriously. “The fact you’re a firefighter in your blood, and I practically raised you in this house, is how I make business decisions.”
He leans a little closer and studies my eyes. “I know losing Cootes was rough for you. IfIraised you, then she did too. I know it. Just like I know the timing of that fall and broken leg sucked. That was a bad season for our house. I get it. But once we peel away the top layer and get down to who we want to have our back in a fire, I know I want you there. You’re solid, dependable, and you’re just young enough to be a little reckless, which can sometimes be the difference between life and death for a victim inside those buildings.”
He pushes up to stand; my hint to get the fuck up and out of his office. “So think on it. Come back to me with the right answer. And don’t forget my cake.”
The fire alarms I spent my youth listening to ring out around the firehouse, and Nix’s head snaps up to listen for details from dispatch.
“Engine three. Ambulance three. Flipped car at Piper’s Lane. Possible trapped passengers.”
Already on the move, already through his office door, Nix charges toward the bay while I follow just a step behind.
Muscle memory means I head toward the rack of turnouts. A lifetime of memories has me reaching for my gear, only for reality to slam into my gut as everyone else does their job.
I count five firefighters.
No room for me.
“Suit up, if you wanna ride along.” Nix steps into his boots and grabs his helmet before he turns toward the truck. “Just to watch,” he calls back. Swinging the passenger door wide, he’s first in, with Sloane darting toward the driver’s side. “We have room in here if you wanna come.”
“Let’s go!” Rizz slaps my shoulder and slams my helmet into my gut. “But you gotta hurry. You’re already late.”
“Fuck.” I snatch up my pants and pull them on, so practiced, I could dress with my eyes closed. I yank the straps over my shoulders and grab my coat. Then I sprint toward the truck with my boots in hand. “I’m coming.”
“Alright.” Nix lifts his hand and spins his finger in the air. “Let’s roll. See if we can get some of these racers impounded before someone else gets hurt.”
Sirens wail, and Nix’s phone trills. While I swap out my civilian boots for my departmentally issued pair, I watch my boss’ lips curl into a grin as he brings his phone to his ear.
“Hey there, Italy. I’ll be home for dinner. I promise.”
* * *
Nicole’s party is, according to Preston, a masked black-tie affair that only the elite are allowed to attend. Which means I have to wear a monkey suit. Choke under the knot of my tie. Actually comb my hair, so I’m fit to be in the presence of women in gowns.
But one of those women is my sister, and she went far too many years not celebrating her birthday at all.
Where Noah went out of his way to destroy every special event that wasn’t centered around him, Preston swings the complete opposite way. He hosts a ball honoring her. Buys her ridiculously over-the-top gifts to make her blush. He has the entire town on standby to wish her a happy birthday, and if he had a plane handy, he’d have it write a message in the sky.
I spent all of yesterday running around with my old firehouse squad—unpaid work that thrilled Nix immensely, like he thought he was swindling me—and all of today doing whatever Pres asked of me. Transporting decorations to the party, receiving the cake Nic made herself, when Raul and Jenson brought it by. I hung fairy lights from the ceiling, and did my damn best to be in Hannah’s way as she was hustling to deliver food.
I wanted her to see me; she didn’t want anything to do with me.
