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CHAPTER NINETEEN

DAYTON

Bad things always come in threes. At least, that’s what my mom always said to me. She was the more superstitious one when I was growing up. Knocking on wood, throwing salt over her shoulder, avoiding cracks in the pavement like they could actually break someone’s bones.

We’d had cats, but never a black one, though I didn’t think she’d love Knives less if she was a little void monster. But she hung a horseshoe above our front door wherever we lived and always lit candles whenever friends or family were having trouble.

I’d learned to listen to her instincts, and when one bad thing happened, I braced for two and three.

The second came when Dax busted his hand at work.

He had a car with a faulty hood stand and didn’t hear the creak before it slammed down on him.

All of us had perfected our one-handed signing as teenagers, of course.

We were rarely without a bag of chips or a giant sandwich in one hand, and we had to communicate somehow.

But it was like me busting half my jaw or taking a punch and half my lips swelling up. And Dax was pissed off and miserable at the forced time off work.

‘It’s not like your shop is going to go anywhere without you,’ I reminded him, sliding a burger his way.

He glared at me, his hand wrapped up like a balloon with the ace bandage over the ice pack.

He flipped me the middle finger, which told me he was in no mood for comfort, so I turned on the show with the haunted house he’d been into lately and increased the caption size so he could sit back and not squint at the TV.

The fucker was also avoiding an eye doctor appointment so I’d have to deal with that bad attitude when he learned he probably did need glasses.

That was a fairly mild issue, at least, and I went to bed feeling better, though not entirely.

Amid taking care of Dax, I was also profoundly aware of the silence coming from Tameron’s side of the phone. Again.

This time, he at least sent me a text letting me know the next few weeks or so were going to be rough and not to expect much from him.

I sent him a heart, then made sure to shoot off photos every time Knives was being adorable, a couple of the sunrise on my drive to work, and then one of my particularly well-put-together Italian sub, which got a squinty-eyed emoji smile in return.

So that was something.

But over the last three weeks, I’d missed our conversations.

I’d missed the feeling of being important to him.

And above all, I’d missed the feeling of him lounging beside me.

He was always so warm and soft. His tension drained away when he was sleepy, and he was open in ways he didn’t allow himself to be when he was fully cognizant.

I wanted to be there when he started letting go. I wanted to be part of his life when he decided where he fit into the world and when he started loving himself again. But I had no idea if I was invited to that part.

Maybe I was just a stopgap. A way to fill the time until he knew what he wanted. It was what I’d agreed to, of course. We were still no strings, and despite falling for him and him mentioning casually he had some kind of feelings for me, we’d made no promises.

That was answer enough for me.

So…maybe that was the third bad thing? Knowing that when times got tough, Tameron turned away?

I supposed that would have been easier if that were the case.

But it wasn’t.

No good calls ever came in during the wee hours of the morning. I was dead asleep, but my alert started blaring so loudly that I felt like my soul had momentarily left my body. I was on autopilot when I answered.

“Car fire, suspected arson. Police are in pursuit of the suspect. Northwest corner of Fifth and Branch.”

The switch in my head flipped, and I became the battalion chief. I was no longer the sad sack of shit pining over my friend with benefits. I was the man my crew depended on.

I took the turns at Mach 10—or at least, they felt like Mach 10.

It was probably no more than thirty, but I flew the rest of the way there, my little siren blaring through the streets.

Coming to a skidding halt, I saw the smoke first and then the flames.

They weren’t in the engine. They were inside the cab of the little two-door beater.

From where I was standing, I could see the windows were caked with soot, and the engine was already there, drenching the flames.

“Seatbelt’s stuck,” Myers called to me, walking over with his face shield down.

“When did you get here?” I asked, throwing on turnout gear and an SCBA.I adjusted my mask and then took a couple of test breaths before heading for the car.

“Two minutes ago,” he said, handing me a pair of wire cutters.

The flames were hot and a heavy boulder in my gut told me that no matter what I did, I was too late. We hadn’t been fast enough. That was the reality of the job—even more than the building fires where we rescued people with burn injuries and saved all their pets.

It was more than feeling a little down because we hadn’t prevented every wound.

Sometimes, it was this.

Sometimes, it was the worst possible outcome.

If it had been my first, I wouldn’t have been able to cope with it the way I could now.

I felt every inch of ache and sorrow as I managed to cut the body free.

The flames were out, but the fire had spread rapidly, and I knew that the arson investigators wouldn’t have to dig deep for evidence of an accelerant.

I could still smell it lingering in the smoke.

The ambulance was nearby, with the stretcher a few feet from me and a sheet to throw over the body. We got them transferred over and away from the prying eyes of everyone who had gathered to watch. In the distance, I could hear someone throwing up.

Then, the call came on the radio that the suspect had been caught and was currently being transported to the station. Detectives would be on the scene after that, and my job would be over. Mostly.

Swallowing thickly, I glanced at the remaining EMTs, waiting to see if anyone else was in the car. None of them were Nash, and I was grateful for it. His burden was heavy right now, and I didn’t want this on his shoulders.

I gave them a quick nod, then stuck my head in to check the back seat.

The last thing I needed was to find evidence of a car seat.

But there was nothing. Some melted Styrofoam from fast food joints and a perfume bottle that had exploded from the heat.

The scent was sickly, burned with a flowery undertone.

It was something I wouldn’t forget for a good, long while.

I felt a shiver go up my spine and breathed through it before turning away. It was my fault for testing the universe. My fault for assuming that it would all blow over and everything would be fine.

“You good, Chief?” I had no idea who was speaking to me and grabbing my arm, but I let them.

I pushed my mask up and looked over to see Rob, one of the guys who’d been around years longer than me. He’d turned down every offer of a promotion. He said he didn’t want the responsibility, and on nights like this, I got it.

“You’re pale.”

I took a breath. “I’ll be alright. You know how it is.”

The look in his eyes said that, yeah, he did. These moments were few and far between, but they happened often enough. I wasn’t desensitized yet, and god help me if that ever happened.

I wanted to feel the pain, regret, and bitterness.

It was what kept me human. It was what kept me good.

“See you at the station?” I told him.

He squeezed my arm again. “I’ve got it from here.”

That was my cue to go, a dismissal he had no right to order, but one I was going to listen to because I trusted my team and knew when I could take a step back.

BZZT! BZZT!

Fire! The alarm!

Except no. It wasn’t a fire, and there was no alarm.

It was my phone because I’d been so wiped from being at the station all day that when I’d gotten home that afternoon, I’d forgotten to put it on Do Not Disturb.

Knives was on my chest, ramming her little face into my jaw like she knew it was important, and on the second ring, I realized it wasn’t a call.

It was FaceTime.

That meant family or…shit, no. It was probably Tameron.

My fingers scrabbled on top of the nightstand until they came in contact with the phone, and with a single eye open and half-focused, I answered. “Hey. Hi.” My voice was a barely there rasp.

“Oh my god, I woke you. It’s six p.m.!” Tameron exclaimed.

I grabbed Knives off my chest and attempted to sit up.

“Yeah. Uh…long night. Bad call. Got stuck at the station all day doing paperwork and talking to investigators.” I blinked a few times to clear the vision of Tam on my screen and felt my face break into a smile when I could see him clearly. “Hey, wait.You’re calling.”

I could see his right ear pink slightly. “Yeah. Sorry. Uh…I should have texted first, or?—”

“What? No. Sweetheart, you can call me whenever you want. It’s fine.” I frowned. “You got your captions on, or do you want me to sign?”

“I have captions on, and it’s connected to my hearing aid. It’s good to hear your voice,” he added softly.

My chest went warm. “You doing okay? It’s been a while.”

He shook his head, and I knew he wasn’t dismissing my question. “Things have been a lot lately. Uh…I…yeah. Can we talk?”

My heart immediately dropped to the pit of my stomach. I knew what that meant, and frankly, this had been a long time coming. I had just hoped it wouldn’t be so soon. “Yeah. Yes. Of course. Whatever you want.”

He blinked, then rolled his eyes. “Oh my god, Day. No. I’m—this isn’t—I don’t mean we need to talk. I mean, can we talk? I’m working really hard on letting people in, and I’d like to include you in that.”

Relief hit me so hard it made me dizzy. “Shit, sorry. It was a bad night. I didn’t mean to jump to conclusions.”

At that, he looked torn. “Let me come over and cook for you. Is Dax there?”