Page 19 of Her Fire Master (Master Me #5)

“Fire inspector certification.” I try to sound detached and professional. “Your interest in detective work at the site of fires has been noted, and the department agreed to give you a leave of absence while you complete the training.”

Lia’s jaw drops. But not in a good way. In fact, I’m pretty sure there are flames coming out of her ears. “What?”

Shit. I totally screwed the pooch with this one. I go ahead and drop the rest of it on her before she explodes.

“Training starts next week, but you’re off the schedule for the rest of this week to job shadow with Inspector Patton.”

She shakes her head slowly. “No.”

Okay. This wasn’t the response I expected. When I cooked up this plan, I was definitely going to be her hero.

I rub my jaw. “Listen, maybe I overstepped?—”

“Ya think? ”

I glare at Scott and Rocket, but neither of them show any intention of moving along. I turn back to Lia. “I believe you have a real talent with this stuff. I had to pull a lot of strings to get it all arranged.”

Wrong thing to say.

“No one asked you to pull strings. In fact, I didn’t ask to be a fire inspector at all. I guess that speech you gave the reporter today was total bullshit. You don’t think having a woman on the team is a good thing. You want me safe and sound, away from danger. Isn’t that right?”

Sonofabitch. “Lia, that’s not why?—”

“Yeah, right. You know what, Captain? Save it.” She turns to survey the rest of the crew.

“I heard you assholes were taking bets on how long I’d last. Well, this was one sneaky bitch of a way to get rid of me, wasn’t it?

Make it seem like I’ve won the freaking lottery. Well, thanks. Thanks a whole lot.”

She grabs the schedule from the wall and crumples it up in her hand as she stalks out.

Fuck.

“Lia, wait.” I jog after her. I don’t care now who sees us together or what they think. I just need to talk to her. “It’s not like that. Will you just wait?”

She heads out the door and jogs down the steps, flipping me the bird over her shoulder without turning.

Shit.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I stop pursuing her. Maybe it’s better to let her cool off first, then I can explain.

Damn.

Lia

Blaze has already left five texts by the time I get home. I’m too pissed to even look at them. I’m also too pissed to do anything but stomp around my apartment. Eating and sleeping seem like an impossibility.

My phone rings.

I know who it will be. Fuck it—I answer. “You have some nerve, you know?”

“Lia.” Blaze sounds relieved. “Will you please just let me explain?”

“Okay, yeah. I’d like to hear how you explain this. Go ahead.”

“First of all, I’m not trying to get rid of you. No one is trying to get rid of you. That’s not it at all. I honestly think fire inspector suits your skill set.”

“Oh, what skill set is that?” My voice drips with lethal sarcasm. “Setting fires?”

He draws a breath and I know I’ve hit the nail on the head.

“Great. Thanks. You know—I get it. You’re a fixer.

You like to help people. You act like a grump but you’re actually the guy everyone calls when they need a hero.

And I became your new project. The pyro who can’t get over her guilt.

You saw my problem straight away and you stepped in to fix it.

” My voice breaks, the pain of what I’m saying tearing me in two.

Because as I speak the words, I know without any doubt, every word is true.

“Well, thanks but no thanks. I don’t need fixing.” My eyes smart and my nose burns. “I’m not broken. And even if I were, I can take care of myself.”

I hang up on Blaze before he can reply.

Because really? What can he possibly say? I know I’m right.

He calls back but I block his number.

I don’t need to hear his shit.

I open the kitchen drawer and pull out a book of matches reflexively, but of course I remember Blaze’s attempt to cure me of this. I crumple the matchbook in my fist and hurl it at the wall.

Fuck him.

I don’t need his help, or anyone else’s. I don’t have a problem.

There’s nothing wrong with me.

And if that means walking away from a fire career to prove it, I will.

Blaze

I punch the wall in my living room.

Sonofabitch.

How could I fuck something up so badly?

Something that actually means something to me. Someone who actually means something to me.

Lia isn’t a rescue project. She’s the only bright spot in my life. Why didn’t I realize that sooner and show her? Tell her?

Why in the fuck do I always have to be a hero?

What made me think I could ‘fix’ things for Lia?

I was trying to help, but I did it in the worst possible way.

I should’ve talked to her, offered my help—which she probably wouldn’t have accepted.

I guess that’s why I went around behind her back.

It wasn’t just to surprise her. It was to railroad her.

And that makes me a goddamn asshole.

I suck at relationships. I should’ve learned from my experience with Samantha. I’m too controlling, I jump in too fast. I try to make something out of nothing.

Clearly that’s what I did with Lia, too.

And if I care about her, I need to back the fuck off. She doesn’t want my help. The best thing I can do is leave her the fuck alone.

I punch the wall again, satisfied when the plaster crunches and my knuckles come away swollen and torn.

And then I whale on that wall with both fists until the entire panel is in a crumbled heap at my feet.