Page 22

CHAPTER 21

DUMDUM

WILDER

“ S hit. ”

I take off running as Cass crumples to the ground in a circle of kids, my heart clamoring in my chest. I spot Cricket, who looks terrified.

“It’s okay,” I promise her as I kneel next to Cass. Cricket nods, watching me pull Cass into my arms.

The way she feels against me isn’t just familiar. It’s Christmas as a kid. Birthdays as a boy. The kind of familiarity that’s thick with wonder and joy and wishes and dreams.

I brush her copper hair from her flushed cheeks. “Cass,” I say softly.

She stirs at the sound of her name and takes a deep, sleepy breath. And then to my greatest fucking delight, she nestles into my chest and sighs. Her eyelids flutter, then open, her pupils contracting and dilating again inside the greenest irises I’ve ever seen in my life.

Cass sits up, rolling her eyes, but she has a sheepish look on her face. “Don’t say it.”

I let her go, but I’m smiling like an asshole. “Say what? I’d never say I told you so.” I help her up. “You okay?”

“I am. Thanks.”

Once she’s on her feet, the kids circle me.

“Are you a fireman?” a girl asks.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You saved Miss W’s life,” a boy says with wide eyes.

“Always will—I’m married to her,” I answer with a smirk.

The kids’ eyes bug out, and muttering ripples through them.

Seeing the awe on their faces, I up the ante. “And Cricket’s my daughter.”

All their faces whip to Cricket, and she smiles, though her cheeks flame and she half hides behind Cass.

The kids erupt in questions, and Cass tries to wrangle them, giving me a look that’s only a little bit annoyed.

Look at me, winning today.

I wink at Cricket.

“I’d better get inside and make sure everything’s safe inside. See y’all later.”

Everyone waves. One calls me Fireman Winfield , which draws a noisy laugh from me and Cass. With a final smile at her, I set my back straight and my chest high and walk into the school, hoping she’s watching.

Listen, I’m well aware of what the lot of us strutting around in bunker gear does to women. In fact, I’ve used it to my advantage enough times to be able to say I know its effects with certainty. And I am not afraid to use it for personal gain. Especially not when it comes to her.

Hell, these suspenders might even be my ticket in.

The boys are already walking up the hallway toward the front office, goofing off a little—my best friend and lovable asshole Tate kicks the rookie’s back foot at intervals to trip him.

“All taken care of?” I ask.

“Yeah,” Tate answers. “Chief already had the alarm unjammed. Some kid stuck a pencil in there so far, we had to take the plate off to get it out.”

“Determination. I like it.” I head back out and give the principal the all-clear. Within a few minutes, the kids are filing back in.

Chief Anderson walks my way. For an old guy, he’s pretty spry, his belly trim and his mustache white. He has no hair to speak of.

“I still don’t think you needed to roll up with the sirens blaring,” he snarks.

“Oh, come on, Chief—had to impress the kids.”

One of his brows rises. “The kids or your wife?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir. I’m all business.”

He harrumphs. “Married. Never would have thought. But if it was gonna be anybody, I can’t say I’m surprised it’s her. And a kid! You’ve had a busy couple of weeks, son.”

“Yessir.”

But his cheer softens. “I hate to hear about the girl’s mother. It’s a shame to lose someone so young like that. I hope they find the bastard who started that fire and put him away.”

Shock sends gooseflesh racing across my skin. “It was arson?”

He nods, his frown worried. “They’re in the thick of investigating, but it was no accident. I don’t know why anybody thinks starting a fire with gasoline won’t get you caught. Gas doesn’t burn off—there’s always a trace. But still, they try.” He shakes his head. “What they don’t know is whether or not the woman was targeted or if it was some accident.”

The vision of Trent, desperate and furious, flashes in my mind, leaving me uneasy. “You’ll…” I scratch the back of my neck. “You’ll tell me if you hear anything?”

“Of course. Of course. In the meantime, let’s get back to the station, hm?”

“Yessir. Oh—do you still have that pencil?”

“Sure.” He digs in his pocket and hands it over, clapping me on the shoulder as he heads for his department Suburban.

The guys are piling into the truck, and I climb up onto the passenger side runner, hanging onto the window frame.

“Hey, hand me that bag of suckers, would you?”

Tate rolls his eyes, reaching for the bag. “Hurry up, dude. It’s hot as shit out here.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter, jumping down and heading back into the school through the still-open door, closing it behind me. “Hey, Gloria,” I say as I approached the front desk. “Is it okay if I give some of the kids candy?”

She gives me a look, though she’s smiling. “You mean some of Cassidy’s kids?”

I shrug. “Maybe so. Think she’d mind?”

Gloria’s cheeks flush, and she laughs. “You know she won’t. Go on—just be quick and don’t cause any trouble.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Classrooms are still bustling, getting settled from the commotion. The place smells like must and books with a hint of vegetable stew, same as it ever did. As I pass the library in the center of the giant H of hallways, I notice how tiny the bookshelves are—they maybe come up to my armpits. But it looks so weird, a miniature of what I remember, with tiny little chairs around shin-high tables.

The first grade classes are down on the left, if memory serves. As I get closer, I hear her voice, and my heart skips in my ribcage at the sound. Her back is to the class as she writes on the white board, explaining about the various sounds the letter e makes. For a moment, I pause in the doorway, leaning on the frame.

Cricket is sitting near the front. She looks so small, smaller than even the other kids. Withdrawn. I wonder if she’s smiled since this morning. I wonder if the fire alarm scared her. But of course it did. The real question was how bad?

When Cass turns to her classroom, her eyes snap to mine, a smile blooming. “Hello, Captain Davenport. Thanks for your help today.”

The kids turn and light up. Cricket smiles.

I add it to the count.

“I had some Dum-Dums in the firetruck. Wondered if any of your kids might want one?” I hold up the bag and gave it a little shake.

They erupt just like I knew they would and Cass’s lips flatten, but they’re curled up at the ends. The kids are already climbing me for candy.

“Oh, I think you have a whole truck full of Dum-Dums,” Cass says as she walks over, her arms folded to frame her tits in that mesmerizing white top she has on. God, how I’ve missed those tits.

“All right, hang on,” I say, laughing as I open the bag and kneel so they can see inside to pick. Cass shepherds Cricket around the side where the crowd is thinner. My daughter and I share a smile. I note that she picks a strawberry one, then listen as the kids share what flavor they got and why they got it and what their dad’s favorite flavor is and on and on. When the last kid has chosen, they officially scatter except for Cricket, who lingers.

I take her hand. “Hey.”

A halfhearted smile is all she can muster. “Hey.”

“You okay?”

She nods at her shoe as she toes a missing corner of tile.

“Wanna see something?”

Cricket meets my eyes, curious.

I shift, pulling the broken pencil out of my pocket. “Somebody stuck this in the fire alarm.”

She giggles at the mangled wood. “Really?”

“Yup. There was no fire, just somebody fooling around. Most alarms never have to be used for a real emergency. They’re there just in case. It’s their job to make sure you know in plenty of time so you can get to safety. So if you hear one, it’s a good thing. It means there’s time to get somewhere safe.”

She inspects the pencil and smiles. “Look how it’s busted. You can see inside!”

I chuckle. “Crazy, huh? Wanna keep it?”

Cricket nods again, her grin like a checkerboard. “Thanks, Wilder.”

“You’re welcome, Cricket.”

She bounds into the classroom to show the other kids the pencil, and all of them ooh and ahh with suckers hanging out of their mouths.

“Throw your wrappers away, please,” Cass says before turning to me with a small smile. “I’d thank you, but I’m pretty sure everything in the classroom is going to be sticky now.”

“Need me to stay after school and clean up after myself? I can bang erasers too. If you need credentials, you can ask Mrs. Apple.”

She still has sass all over her, but her smile widens. “Sadly, we only have whiteboards or I might take you up on that. Thanks, Wilder.”

For a moment, we hesitate before she turns for her classroom, but I grab her wrist. Her pulse flutters under my fingertips.

She looks up at me with emerald eyes, and I almost forget anyone’s around.

“Sorry I kissed you this morning,” I say after a beat.

“No, you’re not.”

“You’re right, I’m not.” I loosen my grip enough to slide it down her hand. My thumb finds her wedding ring and shifts it. “Next time, think you’ll listen when I tell you to eat breakfast?”

“Doubtful. I really don’t like being told what to do.”

“I thought we established I’m the exception to that rule.”

Cass laughs, rolling her eyes, but color rises in her cheeks. The sight gives me more confidence no one man should possess. “See you after school,” she says, retrieving her hand.

“All right. Text me and let me know how it’s going.”

“I will.” She looks shy, glancing at the ground as she backs away. When she turns, I miss the connection instantly. I watch her for a little longer as she gets back to her lesson, her eyes catching mine with a final smile.

I think about it for the rest of the day.