Part 27 (2/2)

”What makes you think that you'll have a hard time handling stuff now? And if you do, why is it that big a deal? You're with a man that loves you. Your boss at work will understand. What will it hurt if you're are still affected but off of it? From what I can tell, the only real things I can see that you have trouble with are boredom, lateness, and you s.p.a.ce out from time to time. Mult.i.tasking isn't a problem that I've seen. You juggle everything very well that I have noticed. Why don't you just take it one-step at a time? Plus, it won't be forever. It'll be another seven and a half months. That's doable.”

He made it sound so simple. So easy.

I wasn't sure it would be, but I'd give it the old college try.

I wouldn't disappoint him.

I'd fight for him. For me. And for our family.

”Wait, did you just say you loved me?” I gasped as I continued to replay what he had said in my head.

He snorted. ”Like f.u.c.king crazy.”

Chapter 21.

Bikers don't go gray, they turn chrome.

-Biker Patch Baylee Two days after the party dawned dark and stormy.

I was outside on the dock and watched as a fish jumped in the middle of the lake producing a large splash.

Boots on the dock had my looking over my shoulder to see Silas walking towards me with his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

He was wearing a black t-s.h.i.+rt that made me chuckle every time I saw it.

”I love that s.h.i.+rt.” I said to him as he got close enough that I could see it.

He looked down and studied it, then smiled.

”I like it.” He agreed.

The s.h.i.+rt had an old man riding a motorcycle with the top rocker saying, 'Sons of Arthritis' and the bottom rocker saying, 'Ibuprofen Chapter.'

I'd asked him to get me one for my birthday since he wouldn't tell me where he got it.

”What's up?” I asked him.

He sat down, letting his feet dangle over the side of the dock, and leaned back putting his weight on his hands. ”Nothing. Sebastian sent me to pick you up. Told me to take you kicking and screaming if you resisted.”

I eyed the slight mist that was scheduled to turn into a hurricane within the next twenty-four hours.

It was said to be, by the National Weather Service, one of the worse the country has ever seen.

Sebastian had been scheduled off for the next week for his vacation; yet, as soon as we'd heard how bad it was supposed to get, Sebastian had volunteered to go in.

”He did not say that!” I laughed.

”No, he didn't. But it made him sound like a p.u.s.s.y when he asked me to say please. I just wanted to make an effort to make him not sound so much like a little girl.”

”I'll go under one condition.” I cautioned.

He looked at me skeptically, as if he didn't believe I'd go without a fight. ”What's that?”

Sebastian Apartment fire at Town Oaks. Neighbors say it has fully engulfed the first apartment on the West Side.

As soon as I heard those words, I knew it was going to be bad.

We'd responded to call after call in the past six hours of my s.h.i.+ft.

Kettle and I had both been on the first hose as we'd pointed the stream into a large hole that was cut into the side of apartment 1A's wall.

Kettle had been at my back, his shoulder pressed against the middle of my back to ensure we both kept adequate control of the hose.

Apartment 1A was the one below 1B, which was fully engulfed.

All we were supposed to be doing was hosing down the apartment to ensure the area wouldn't have a way to catch, but I'd been blindsided.

”I think we need to pull back. Something doesn't feel right!” I yelled at Kettle.

As Kettle stepped back, giving me a little slack in the line, another firefighter walked up.

Feeling somewhat mollified, I yelled out to Kettle to hold, and turned my head back to the fire. If they had someone else there to keep an eye on the situation around them, I'd keep hitting the house with my line. It just felt like something was off, and my senses were telling me to get the f.u.c.k out.

Kettle must not have heard me because, suddenly, I had no more support at my back. The support I had holding the hose was suddenly gone, too.

Not able to look over my shoulder because of my bunker gear, I managed to turn the water flow off with a push of the lever, and set it down.

What I saw when I was clear was enough to chill my blood.

Everything happened quickly after that.

The fire ax that the other firefighter was holding came down quickly.

One second it was above the man's head, and the next it was buried in my chest. I looked down as if in a haze and saw the axe protruding from my chest. Then I looked back up to see the firefighter leaving. Saw the name on the back of the gear. McRae.

I didn't feel the agony like I should have.

The only thing I could think was 'good thing it's not in my heart.'

Kettle, who'd been on the ground flat on his face, turned over, and removed his helmet.

I would never forget the horror in his eyes when he saw the ax protruding from my chest. h.e.l.l, I probably wouldn't be able to un-see that in the near future, either. That is, if I lived to see the near future.

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