Page 48 of Fire Fight

“No, why?”

“Your house is…impressive. And very clean.”

Crew hitched up a shoulder, drying his hands on a tea towel that he draped haphazardly over his shoulder before turning to face me fully, leaning his hips and palms against the counter behind him.

“My dad died when I was young,” he began, and I gasped.

“I’m sorry.”

He waved me off. “It’s okay. It was a long time ago.” Despite his nonchalance, his voice cracked a little bit, like the words were still hard to say out loud. “Mom was trying to raise this crazy brood of children, you know? Both Owen and Trey, my two oldest brothers, were gone by then, and Aria was a little girl, so Lane, the twins, and I picked up the slack where we could. Admittedly, we were hellions as we got older, but we did what we could to make her life as easy as possible at home.”

There was a hauntedness that took over his expression as he spoke, and I hated how well I understood the emotions swirling within him behind it.

I understood that kind of loss all too well.

“What was it like growing up with so many siblings?”

“Loud,” Crew said with a laugh. “And smelly.”

I chuckled with him. “How old is your sister?”

“Twenty-four.”

Almost the same age Lola had been when she died, though my sister would’ve been forty by now. Would she have a family of her own? Would I have a brother-in-law and nieces or nephews running around? All the what-ifs and what-could’ve-beens haunted me daily.

Oblivious to the fact that doing so pressed on an old wound, Crew asked, “Do you have any siblings?”

A pang echoed in my chest. I didn’t blame him for the question, but I hated talking about it, hated how, after all these years, it still felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest anytime she came up in conversation. I missed her more than I could ever accurately express, the pain that of a phantom limb I’d never get back, but talking about her only made it worse.

I owed Crew something though, especially after he shared about his father, so I said, “I had a sister.”

“Had?”

“She died.” Then I choked on a disbelieving laugh. “In a fire of all things.”

Crew blinked slowly, as if filing this information away and fitting it into the picture he saw when he looked at me. Thankfully, there was no pity in his gaze. Only assessment, like he was peeling back my layers to reach my soft center. Unearthing more of me until he found the woman I was buried beneath my hardened shells.

I didn’t have the energy to be picked apart, though—not now, not ever—so I got to my feet and asked, “Is there somewhere I can spread out my files and get some work done?”

Crew gave his head a little shake as though coming back to the surface after falling into a trance. With a jerk of his chin, he led me down the hall to his office, the only other room I’d bothered to explore when I arrived yesterday except the common areas and the guest bedroom.

One side of the space contained built-ins that housed a collection of books and framed photographs. They were painteda deep green that contrasted beautifully with the creamy color of the rest of the room. Along the opposite wall was a large wooden desk with an Apple monitor and a closed laptop resting in the center. A map of what appeared to be Dusk Valley hung beside it, random locations highlighted in red. A whiteboard next to it had random dates and notes that made no sense to me.

I moved closer, curious about the map.

“What is this?” I asked Crew.

“Dangerous buildings in town. The city has been working for years to demolish them and rebuild, but the townsfolk are stubborn about their tax dollars being used for something that doesn’t directly benefit them. As a firefighter, I have to know where all of these buildings are in case we get called to a scene at one. It changes our approach.”

“But why have it in your home?”

One corner of Crew’s mouth twitched. “My job doesn’t stop when I’m off shift, Aspen.”

“Fair enough,” I said, appreciating his dedication to keeping the people of Dusk Valley safe.

Then I returned my attention to the map.

Honestly, I had no idea what I was looking at. I hadn’t spent enough time here to truly grasp the layout of the town and recognize landmarks in nothing but a line drawing, but I knew where my accident had occurred. My eyes traced the streets until I found the building.