Chapter 26
26
Juliette
F ully exfoliated, shaved, and trimmed, and with deep conditioner soaking in my hair, I dropped my chin to my chest and let the hot water beat over my back. Shit. I didn’t have time for that. I rinsed my hair, shut off the water, and rushed out, drying and lotioning quickly. Then I did my hair, scrunching in a little extra of the curl cream Dylan liked the scent of. A quick touch of blush, eye shadow, and lip gloss, then I dressed in shorts and a black off-the-shoulder top, nice but casual, and I was ready to meet Dylan at the station.
I’d found a garage sale advertising old firefighter gear, and I couldn’t wait to surprise him by taking him there. It had been a crazy few weeks of Dylan being over-the-top protective, but now that some time had gone by without hearing from Kayla, he was almost back to his usual level of protectiveness. He’d been so worried about me, so good to me—even more than usual—and I was beyond excited that I found something that he’d love.
I rushed around, sliding on my shoes and grabbing my stuff, and I was running out the door only about ten minutes late. Not terrible, but I still felt bad making Dylan wait for me. His shift had already been long enough. As I waited for the elevator, I pulled out my phone to text him that I was on my way. Shit. I’d missed a bunch of his calls and texts. I hurried to call back.
“Hey, I’m leaving now. I’ll be there soon. Sorry,” I rushed out as soon as he answered.
“No, Juls. Don’t leave. I’ll come over to your place instead.”
I couldn’t read his voice, but it wasn’t happy. My heart started to race. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. I just don’t want you to come here, and I don’t want to go out. I’ll be there soon.”
My heart was racing full speed now. “Did something happen?” Was it Kayla again?
“No, I just don’t want to have to worry about you. It’ll be easier for me to come over. Stay home and wait for me.”
A million memories rushed in. A million times I’d heard words like that from other people. I’d never heard it from Dylan before, though, and I hated it. Don’t worry about it; I’ll do it for you. It’ll be easier for me to do it instead. Easier, quicker, safer, better.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and tried to talk as slowly and strongly as I could. “I’m ready to go. I-I have something planned. Something for us to do.”
“Juls, please. I’ll be there soon.”
“Okay.” What else could I say? I wasn’t going to beg.
“Thanks baby, love you.” His words were nice, but his tone was hard.
“Love you too.” I hung up before the last word was out of my mouth. Hopefully before he heard the catch in my voice.
I knew I was overreacting. His job was unpredictable and emotional. Anything could have happened in the hours since we’d last talked. Maybe Kayla had texted or called him again. But I couldn’t help it. This was my emotional baggage. I was well aware of it, and I usually accepted it. But it felt so much worse that it was Dylan making me feel this way. I tolerated it from most people, even expected it from my mom. But not him.
Stop acting like a crazy person. He must have a reason . He’d tell me when he got here, and it would be okay. Maybe we’d even still have time to go to the garage sale.
I tried to shake it off and clean up the mess I’d left in the wake of rushing to get ready. I straightened up and I washed the dishes and tried to talk some sense into myself. Something had to have happened, right? It wasn’t about me being late. Or messy. Or that I’d get hurt or lost or do something stupid on my way to him, even though it was likely, given that I was both rushing and excited and— Fuck.
Fucking shit, that hurt. I gaped at the opening the knife had gouged into the pad of my thumb. This was why I shouldn’t handle a knife when I was distracted and upset. Maybe Dylan was right. I held it under the water, tears pricking my eyes at the sting as the white, open edges of my skin slowly pinkened and darkened, the blood finally gushing out.
Dammit. Dylan was knocking on my door. Of all days for someone to let him into the building. The timing couldn’t be worse. I wrapped my thumb in a huge wad of paper towels and held it in my fist, trying to ignore how bad it hurt.
I fumbled to open the door with my left hand. “Hey, Dylan,” I said with a smile, my hand behind my back.
I don’t even know why I did that. To see him first before he got distracted worrying about me? To ask why he’d changed the plans? To know why he’d sounded so off on the phone? To kiss him hello and make sure everything was still okay between us? Whatever the reason, it was the wrong thing to do.
“What’s wrong?” His eyes narrowed, the corners of his mouth pulling down.
I pushed my smile bigger, but I felt it tremble. “Nothing.”
“Juliette,” he growled. “What the fuck are you hiding? Why are you lying to me?”
What the hell? I pulled my hand out to show him, too upset by his reaction to even try to hide how bad it hurt. I don’t know what hurt more, my thumb or the way he was talking to me. The sight of the blood-soaked paper towels made it all a hundred times worse.
“Fuck, Juls.” He grabbed me by the wrist and dragged me to the kitchen.
“It’s okay. It’s not as bad as it looks.”
“Sure. You like to say that, don’t you?”
“Are you—are you mad at me for getting hurt?”
“No! No, baby, I’m sorry. I was just worried about you getting hurt, and then to see you actually were...” He shifted his hold on me, wrapped his arms around me, pulled me in close, and pressed a kiss to my temple. “I’m sorry, Juls.” He sounded tired, and he dropped his head against mine, like he was too exhausted to hold himself up.
“Are you okay?” I asked him.
“I’m fine. Just happy to finally have you in my arms.” He didn’t sound happy though.
He led me the remaining few steps to the sink, gentler this time, and cradled my hand as he carefully unwrapped my makeshift bandage.
“What happened?”
“I was washing a knife.”
“I have to clean it, baby, and it’s going to hurt. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. Do what you need to do.”
It was barely okay. He held it under the running water and washed it with soap and water longer and with more force than I ever would have.
I squirmed, but his grip on my arm didn’t budge. “That’s enough. The knife was clean. I already washed it.”
“With the sponge, the germiest thing in the damn house.”
I sighed. He’d stop when he felt it was thoroughly disinfected and not a second earlier.
“I have butterfly bandages in my car. I’ll get them after I finish cleaning it.”
”No need. I have some here.”
“Of course you do. I knew it, I knew you’d get hurt somehow.” He muttered the words under his breath, but they hurt like he’d screamed them. Like he’d slapped me with them.
“Stop!”
“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” Dylan spun to face me, his eyes wide and scared.
“Yes.”
Dylan cradled my hand and carefully examined my cut as though, if only he could see it better, he could fix it.
“Not that. What you said.”
“What did I say?” He looked completely clueless, and that made me even more mad. He should know me well enough to know why that hurt.
He shut off the water and wrapped a paper towel around my thumb, holding it tightly with one hand, wrapping his other hand around my waist and pulling me against his chest. “I’m sorry, baby. What did I say?” he whispered against my temple.
I pushed away from him. “You said you knew I’d get hurt. You think I have the bandages because I get hurt all the time. I don’t.”
“I never said any of that.”
“You did. I may be clumsy, but I’ve never been seriously injured.”
He just looked at me, guilt in his eyes.
“Why did you cancel our plans, Dylan? Why have you been angry and accusatory since the second you walked in?”
“It’s too much, always worrying about you. I just wanted you home where you’d be safe, and you still hurt yourself.”
It felt like he’d punched me in the gut. And then he continued piling it on.
“What if something happened to you? If someone went after you? How could you protect yourself? How would you get away?”
I opened my mouth, but no words came out.
“Baby—”
Hell no. He wasn’t calling me baby in that condescending tone. “I’ll get the bandages.” It wasn’t the comeback I should have said, but I just needed to get away from him.
“Where are they? I’ll get them.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll try not to get hurt on my way.”
“Juls…”
What the hell was happening? I hurried down the hall, blinking back tears, then stared unseeing at the first aid kit in the linen closet. He couldn’t really think that about me. If he really and truly did…well, we were over.
I had to prove to him I was strong and capable. And that started with being strong enough to handle his doubts without falling apart. To face whatever the hell this was head on. I grabbed the box of bandages and marched back to the kitchen.
“Here,” I said, calmly handing him the box despite feeling anything but calm.
He set it down on the counter and without meeting my eyes, as carefully as if he was performing surgery, he removed the bloody paper towel, pushed the skin closed and applied three bandages, which was at least one more than I would have put on. He examined his work, and when it apparently passed inspection, he pulled me in close and kissed the tip of my thumb, a safe distance from the injury. He tucked my hand carefully between us, wrapped both arms around me, and sighed into my hair. “I’m sorry, Juls.”
“Let’s go sit.” I led him to the couch and pushed him into the corner, hesitating before following him down to curl up next to him. I peered up at him from where my cheek was pressed against his pounding heart. This was my chance to prove to him—to both of us—that I was strong. I didn’t get hurt that easily. Not physically, and not emotionally either. “You know it wasn’t that bad, right?”
“I know.”
“So what’s really going on?”
He ran his hand over my hair, catching a few curls and twirling them around his fingers, lost in his thoughts.
“I had a nightmare last night.”
The vulnerability in his voice melted all my anger. “Tell me about it?”
“It started with the girl that was shot—Gianna. She was calling my name and reaching for me, and I tried to run to her but I couldn’t get through. All these firefighters and cops were in my way and holding me back. I tried to push through them, but they grabbed at my arms and legs. I yelled at them and they yelled at me and she yelled for me, and it was like no one else knew I needed to get to her. Only me. And I couldn’t save her. I’ve had that same nightmare before. Usually, next, she looks me straight in the eyes and screams my name and then her head explodes. But last night...”
I soothed my hand up and down his side and pressed a kiss over his racing heart. “What happened?”
He tightened his arms around me, squeezing so hard it almost hurt. “It was you,” he choked out. “It was her, and then she turned into you. And I couldn’t get to you, Juls. I couldn’t save you.”
“I’m right here. I’m alright”
“I’m sorry for being a jerk today.”
“It’s okay.”
He chuckled, self-deprecating and sad. “Not even going to try to tell me I wasn’t?”
“Nope. You were. But I’ll forgive you.”
He pressed a kiss to the top of my head, his lips lingering on me.
“Have I ever told you about my battalion chief? Chief Pratt?”
I shook my head, making him tug on my hair in the most delicious way.
“Chief Pratt is an asshole. As battalion chief, he oversees us and three other stations. Luckily we’re the farthest station from him, and he’s also lazy, so he’s not around often, but when he is, he’s a bully. He stopped by this morning.”
“What did he say to you?”
“He gave us shit about Gianna’s shooting. After that nightmare, it was the last thing I needed.”
“You’re not in trouble, are you?”
“No, we followed orders and those orders followed protocol. But he strutted in so full of himself, as usual, like if he’d been there, he would’ve saved her instead of standing around like us with our thumbs up our asses.”
“That’s bullshit. You would’ve done anything to save her.”
“I know.” He hugged me tighter and sounded so sad. Resigned. “But it was still hard to hear. Even though I have zero respect for him and don’t give a shit what he thinks of me, it sucked to have my own doubts voiced aloud.”
“You’re an amazing firefighter, Dylan. So devoted and talented. I believe in you, and I’d trust you with my life.”
He squeezed me so tight I could barely breathe. “Don’t say that. I can’t think about you needing saving.” He sucked in a deep breath and blew it out, ruffling my hair. “So that’s why I lost my mind when I saw you bleeding. It’s not an excuse, but I was already shaken up, between the nightmare and Chief Pratt, and then you were hurt… I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean what I said.”
“I know. It’s okay.” I said it, but I wasn’t sure I believed it. He wouldn’t have normally said and done what he did, but those worries came from somewhere. Deep down, was that really what he thought?
“I’m sorry I ruined your surprise. Can we do it tomorrow instead?”
He did ruin it, and that was disappointing. He would’ve loved that garage sale, and I was so excited. “No, it had to be today. It’s okay, though. The day isn’t ruined. Want to take a nap and then we can figure the rest out?”
Dylan stood with me in his arms like I weighed nothing. Without a word, he carried me to bed, laid me down, and climbed in behind me, fitting my back against his chest, his arms wrapped around me, his legs intertwined with mine, his whole body curled around me, like he could shield me from danger with himself.
“Thank you, baby,” he whispered into my ear. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” I whispered back, trying to keep the worry and sadness out of my voice.
“Juls, can I ask what you had planned for today?” His voice sounded sad too.
“A garage sale. They said they had firefighter stuff, so I sent a message. She had a couple of boxes of her grandfather’s things from when he was a firefighter.”
“You’re incredible. You have no idea how much it means to me that you did that.”
“I’m sorry we didn’t get to go.”
“No baby, I’m sorry. For everything.”
“It’s okay.”
“How’s your thumb? Does it hurt?”
“It’s fine.”
Dylan soon fell into a restless sleep, often squeezing me tight before semi-relaxing again, but never letting me go. I hated how tired and worried he was. The thought of him lying awake and scared after a nightmare was almost too much to handle.
Hours later, I woke up to the afternoon sun shining warmly over us and Dylan lying awake, still holding me close. I rolled over and kissed him, and we made slow, sweet love.
We spent the rest of the day curled up on the couch watching a Karate Kid marathon. We fooled around for most of the first one, ate tacos that we’d ordered in and ice cream sundaes during the second one while discussing how we should have actually watched the first one and fooled around during the second, and then we fell asleep wrapped around each other sometime during the third.