Page 3 of Revived (Lucky Ones #1)

“Hey, Monster.” She answers cheerfully; the thump, thump, thump of her feet running on the pavement echoes down the line and calms the storm brewing inside of me from a tough shift.

I can picture her in her favorite navy running shorts, a cropped crewneck, and her hair thrown up in a messy bun while she’s on her morning run.

“Hey, Boo.” My voice sounds exasperated and exhausted even to my own ears.

“What’s wrong?” She asks, her voice a little on edge. The rhythmic sound of her running slows.

“Nothing, just a tough shift. I had a call with a kid tonight, and earlier yesterday I had a fire where we lost one.” I clear my throat to hopefully push the lump forming back down.

“Did you sleep at all last night?”

“Yeah, I got a few hours, but they weren’t anything to write home about. ”

“Meet in fifteen? I’m almost done with my run now, and I don’t have to be at the gym until two today.” I want to tell her not to worry about it, but we both know that she won’t listen anyway.

“Okay. I’ll see you in a little bit.” A beeping sound signals that someone else is trying to call through.

“Hey, Elle. Roe’s ringing through. Let me grab it.”

“Okay. I’ll see you in a few.” She hangs up before I can say anything else, leaving me to face the music.

Rowan is my oldest brother and basically my dad.

My parents were killed when I was just fifteen, which left me and my twin brother to be raised by our four older brothers.

We’re practically a mixture of Mowgli and Tarzan from being raised by a bunch of late teens and early twenty something guys.

They did their best, and we aren’t majorly fucked up, but we would be one hundred percent different if we still had our parents.

I’ve put some distance between my older brothers and myself over the past three years.

I love them, and I’m so thankful for all the sacrifices they’ve made for me.

At the same time, the name Byrne means something if you live on the East Coast. Hell, it means something worldwide if you run in a certain set of circles.

As far as people here know, the fact that my last name is Byrne and I fight fires is a funny coincidence.

They would never connect me to the New Jersey Byrnes unless I pointed it out to them. Which I will not be doing.

I still take their calls sometimes, and we still have one of the most chaotic group chats in history, but I don’t allow them to come here, and I only go there on Easter and Christmas.

Three of my four older brothers run the Byrne Organized Crime Group, or the BOCG.

Which is the polite way of saying they run the Irish mob.

My brother, Declan, who is no longer working the ‘family business,’ is a medic in Corey Heights.

It’s a small town right outside of Jersey City where we grew up.

He and his husband live there and love it.

I was supposed to work out there as well and did for a little bit, but at the end of the day it was too far from Flynn and too close to the others.

I don’t blame my older brothers for what happened all those years ago, but I struggle knowing that if we were all just a normal ass family, it would have never happened.

So that’s who I’ve become in Temple Valley.

I’m just Sullivan Byrne, everyone’s favorite firefighter and Lieutenant.

The most exciting thing about me now is that I’m an identical twin, and all of my best friends are professional athletes, but none play the same sport.

Oh, and then there’s that thing where I’m still irrevocably and shamelessly in love with my best friend.

That’s an entire thing, though. She’s still not ready after what we went through three years ago.

So I’ll remain in the friend zone until I’ve convinced her that I’m so far removed from the bullshit that it’ll never touch us again.

I take a deep breath before hitting the accept button, right before the call rings out.

“Hey.” I try to keep my voice as neutral as possible.

I only take his calls maybe once a week.

I know that seems like a lot to normal people, but Rowan has control issues.

His need to know where all his eggs and chickens are at all times is extreme, to put it lightly.

He calls two to three times a day, and if I went longer without answering him, I’m convinced he’d relocate his entire operation here just to keep an eye on me.

“Hey? I called you three times yesterday with no response, and all I get is a hey? Sullivan Rory, I thought you might have been dead.” His deep baritone voice rumbles down the line.

He’s not always this demanding towards me, but I worried him, and he’s not the head of the mob because he can’t be authoritative. Hell, he’s held our family together for eleven years practically single handedly.

“I was working, Roe. I can’t answer calls in the middle of a search and rescue because my older brother is a bit of a control freak.” I roll my eyes, because he still treats Flynn and me like we’re those same young boys who just found out our parents were murdered.

“You barely answer my calls, and you run into burning buildings for a living. Excuse me for being a little apprehensive when you don’t answer.

If something happens to you, who would they even call?

Would they even know to call me while you’re living this secret life?

” He isn’t being a prick. He’s just worried.

“Calm down. I answer every single time Clara calls, and you know it because I know she tells you. If anything were to happen to me, they’d call Clara and then immediately call Flynn.

You’d know, Roe. You’re my next of kin. If I end up toasted in a fire and they have to pull the plug, they’ll need your permission first.”

Clara is Rowan’s wife and the closest thing to a mother figure that I have.

They got together when I was just a seventeen year old punk.

She was put through the ringer by her shitty ex before Rowan met her and her little boy, Rhett.

The nephew I was talking about earlier. I always answer her calls, because whereas I don’t really care if my brothers worry, I will never make her or my other sisters-in-law worry about me unnecessarily.

“Don’t even joke about stupid shit like that.” He grumbles.

“You asked.” I remind him as I pull into my driveway. Elle isn’t here yet, and glancing at the house across the street, I confirm that my brother hasn’t gotten back from his string of away games.

Flynn is a professional hockey player. He’s the top defenseman for the Washington Declaration. DC is only twenty minutes from here, so he lives in Temple Valley and commutes into the city for work. He’s supposed to be back today from a week of away games, but he must still be on his way back.

“What’s up, Sul? I haven’t heard from you in a week, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re avoiding me more than normal.”

“No. I’m not; you keep getting mine and Declan’s schedules mixed up or something because you always call while I’m on shift.”

“It’s not my fault that your work schedule is so weird.

” He’s being such a grump this morning, and I know that’s mine and Flynn’s doing.

They just need to let us live our lives.

Just because they all like to have their heads so far up each other’s asses they can taste what the other had for dinner last night doesn’t mean we want that.

“It’s not that hard, Roe. We’ve been over this countless times. Three/one/two/three; seventy-two on, then twenty-four off. Then forty-eight on followed by seventy-two off, and then it just cycles through.” I’m getting annoyed with him as I watch Elle pull up behind my truck in her car.

“That’s so dumb, though. Declan’s is just one day on and then two days off. Just come back here and work a normal schedule with him.” Rowan complains. I can practically see him pacing the length of his office in frustration.

“Right… because that’s how CHFD does it.

” I open my arms for her to step into when she makes her way to me.

She quickly settles into my embrace and listens to me argue with my big brother.

“Which is cool for him, but I like my schedule. Furthermore, I like the town I live in and my station. I like where I am, Rowan.”

“Yeah, away from us. Away from your beautiful niece and nephews. You don’t even get to watch them grow up, Sully. Come home.” He’s hurt that two states and a district separate us when he wants us all to still live in the house we were raised in together.

“That’s a low blow. I watch them grow up plenty, and I talk to them almost daily. They know who Uncle Sul is, so miss me with that, asshole. I’ve got to go.” I know he wasn’t trying to, but that one really did sting.

“No, Sully! Wait.”

“I’ve got to go, Roe. I’ll talk to you soon. I love you, big brother.”

He sighs but doesn’t fight me further. “I love you too, baby brother.”

Hanging up, I slide my phone back into my pocket and squeeze Elle tightly before letting her go. Her wild curls tickle my nose, and it brings a smile to my face. These chestnut curls paired with her emerald eyes have been my downfall since childhood.

“Come on, Sul. Let’s go to bed.”

And that’s exactly what we do. She sits against my headboard and turns on some reality show she’s been watching while I lay my head on her thigh as she strokes my hair and calms the demons that have been haunting my dreams for years.

Finally, after over thirty-six hours, I fall into a peaceful sleep.