Page 49

JACK

When I said last weekend was the night Rumi and I finally got a whole night alone, little did I know the universe was going to say “fuck you” and kick me in the balls.

I don’t think I have ever been that sick in my entire life, and I blame Anderson for coming to the station sick after going to his nephew’s birthday party.

I’m thankful Rumi stayed healthy, even after coming over and spending the night.

While most of the night is a blur, I do remember Rumi taking care of me, pressing cool towels to my head, running her hands through my hair, and wrapping her body around mine when she was looking for heat in the middle of the night.

By the morning, I was much less groggy and out of it than I was the night before, but Rumi couldn’t stay long, having to pick Evee up from my mom’s.

I ended up sleeping the rest of the day, and now I’m back at the station—it feels like I never left.

“How were your days off?” Anderson asks me, sitting on the couch next to me.

“Shitty,” I answer, not even looking up from my book.

Rumi and I recently swapped reading material—she’s reading my favorite cozy mystery series about a young investigator using her grandmother’s diaries to help solve her small towns mysteries, and I’m reading what Ava calls her “vampire smut books”, specifically starting off with the one that looks like an Edward/Jacob fanfic.

Rumi explained that the correct term is “paranormal romance”, and I’m enjoying myself either way.

Sure, the sex scenes are entertaining—-some giving me plenty of inspiration when I finally get my re-do of a night alone with Rumi this weekend, but it’s the forbidden love between the vampire and the werewolf that I’m really enjoying.

“And why is that?” Anderson asks, and I look up at him over the frames of my reading glasses for a moment, finding his bright brown eyes and huge grin extra annoying today.

“You got me sick,” I tell him before going back to my reading, tuning him out as he explains to me how it wasn’t his fault that one of his nephew’s friends came to the birthday party after just getting over the flu.

The rest of my 24-hour shift is uneventful aside from a few routine calls and having to gear up at two in the morning when some nosy neighbor thought the house down the street was on fire—turns out, the owners were just having a big bonfire and the old woman who called it in didn’t put on her glasses when she saw a “humongous orange flame” coming from the back of the house.

By the time we do our shift change after briefing the incoming guys about the last 24-hours, I’m ready to head to the gym before stopping by Hey Honey’s to visit Rumi at her morning shift.

We have a date to the zoo with Evee scheduled for tomorrow, and we’re supposed to have our books read, so we can talk about them as we walk around.

I’m almost to my truck when I hear my last name boom from behind me, the deja vu hitting me square in the jaw when I turn to find Chief Sanders.

“Chief,” I greet with a nod.

I haven’t had much time to talk with the chief, not with how busy my shifts have been filling in for our Fire Lieutenant, James, while he’s helping out at the station nearby as interim chief.

“I wanted to catch you before you head out,” Chief says, crossing his arms over his chest. “How are your sessions going?”

“Great,” I answer. “He switched me to just once a week because of my progress.”

Even though neither the chief nor my therapist has told me, I know they have eyes on me in the field, and that they are in conversations with one another about my progress.

Before starting therapy, it probably would have pissed me off. But now? I know it’s to help me and keep me moving in the right direction, both professionally and personally.

“Glad to hear it,” Chief Sanders says. “And I’ve heard from some of the crew how smooth things have been running in the field recently.”

As the Fire Lieutenant in the field these last few weeks, it’s my job to coordinate the team during our emergency responses. It’s my job to make sure everyone follows the safety protocols and operates efficiently.

It’s a tough job, one that James makes look easy.

Assessing the scene, making quick decisions, and being the one in charge of directing resources to control the fires, search and rescue, and managing any other situations that arise means I’m the one everyone puts their trust in, and it’s vital that I have a handle on my PTSD.

“The crew thinks you’re a natural leader, and you’ve made huge strides in the last three months. It’s not easy keeping communication clear and organized and being the point of contact between the frontlines. I’m proud of you, and I think Bennett would be too.”

While I’m still not ready to get too close to the active fires—and with my new role as interim Fire Lieutenant, it’s my job to stay back and assess the situation as a whole rather than be on the frontline—I’ve been able to prevent any other panic attacks or freezing in the field.

“Thank you, Chief.” The pride that blooms in my chest warms my entire body, the thought of making not only the man I look up to but my best friend proud fills me with confidence in my recovery and in the work I’ve been putting into myself.

“With that being said,” Chief Sanders continues, “it sounds like James will be taking over as chief at Southland’s station at the end of next month.”

I nod, taking in his words, the ones both spoken and unspoken. James was supposed to be back at the beginning of August, so I figured I’d only be covering his role for one more week, but that doesn't sound like the case anymore.

“And if all goes well, his position is going to you.”

“Me?” I can’t hide my disbelief. While his praise at my ability to fill in for James is one thing, actually being promoted to Fire Lieutenant is a whole other beast. “Sir, it’s an incredible opportunity, but I don’t know if I’m ready.”

Like he said, I’ve made progress with my grief and PTSD the last three months, but I still have a long way to go.

I still have yet to get back on the frontlines for fuck’s sake.

“Give yourself some credit,” Chief Sanders says, clapping an arm to my shoulder. “You passed the FFDE with the psychiatrist your therapist recommended, and you were already next in line for the position before you left. It’s not a decision I’ve made lightly.”

He turns to head back to the station, leaving me with his words.

Hopping into my truck, I immediately call Rumi, needing to tell her the news. Glancing at the clock, I see it’s time for Evee’s morning nap, so hopefully I can catch Rumi just after she puts Evee down.

She answers on the second ring. “Hi, firefighter,” she whispers into the phone, and I can hear a door close on her end of the line.

“Hey, pretty girl.”

“How was the rest of your shift? Did you get time to finish the book?” she asks, her voice going back to a normal volume.

I clear my throat. “It was good, nothing crazy, and almost. Planning on finishing tonight. Hey, listen,” I say, the words coming out slightly rushed. I run a hand through my hair. “I just got done talking with the chief.”

“Is everything okay?” she asks, knowing from different conversations we’ve had throughout the summer that my talks with the station’s chief these last few months haven’t always been a walk in the park.

“Yeah, actually. Everything’s great. You know how I’ve been acting as the Fire Lieutenant in the field the last few weeks?”

“Yes,” she says, but it comes out wearily.

“Chief wants to promote me to the position permanently.”

She squeals in excitement for me. “Oh my gosh! Jack, that’s such great news. How do you feel?”

“Good, I think. I just hope I’m ready.”

“Of course you are. As long as you keep up with your sessions and are honest with your therapist and the chief about your progress.” Her reassurance grounds me, her faith in me making my doubts from a moment ago fade. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you, baby.”

I’m proud of me too.