Through the Flames (The Lost Letters #1)

1. Noah

Chapter 1

Noah

A h, fuck!

I choke back the burning mouthful of coffee. I’ll be lucky to taste anything the rest of the day after that. “Jesus.”

“You good over there, LJ?” Brody hollers across the lounge, laughter lacing his voice.

“Fine,” I croak. I’d roll my eyes at the nickname the guys bestowed upon me, but it’s been mine from the minute I walked into the Sonoma firehouse. It could be worse. My best friend, Porter, got the nickname Pinky because he blushes at the drop of a hat. Poor guy.

No, my nickname is because I share a last name with the fire chief. Little James was an obvious choice since my dad has been a firefighter here since he was practically old enough to be hired. I followed in his footsteps, going to the academy after I graduated high school, much to my mom’s dismay.

This place is in my blood. There wasn’t another career choice for me.

The group home I grew up in caught fire when I was five. I was rescued by the Sonoma firefighters, and for some reason, Mom and Dad wanted me to be a permanent part of their family. A few months later, they adopted me, and every shitty memory I had of my drug-addicted bio mom was replaced with a love I could never have imagined on my own.

So being a firefighter was inevitable.

“How the fuck can you drink coffee at this time of day?” Brody asks, flopping down in the recliner next to mine.

I raise an eyebrow at him. “It’s only three in the afternoon.”

“Kid, I’d be awake all night.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re old.” I smirk at him.

“Oh, fuck you,” he grumbles. He can’t really argue since he’s one of the oldest guys on our shift. You’d think he’d be slowing down and readying to retire at fifty-three. Instead, he’s still keeping pace with us young guys without a hitch in his step. It’s impressive.

Porter flops down in the other recliner, a mug of coffee in his hand, as well. Brody starts mumbling about “kids these days.” Porter tilts his head at me in question, and I just shake mine in response. He shrugs and flips on the TV to find the hockey game. The New York Raptors have to win this game for a shot at the Cup, and we’ve all been rooting for them. Even the guys who don’t follow hockey have been enjoying the games.

“Yoo-hoo! Anyone home?”

My eyes fly to Porter as a grimace takes over my face before I can school my features. I stand from my recliner, knowing exactly who’s here and why. I walk toward the hallway with Porter’s laughter behind me. Asshole. He takes entirely too much pleasure in my plight.

Standing in the entryway of the firehouse is Darla Smithers. She has a covered container in her hands, likely holding another batch of stomach-turning muffins.

“Hi there!” Her smile stretches across her face, making her look a little crazed. She’s been randomly stopping by the house for the past month. Every time she comes, she refuses to talk to anyone but me, and no matter how many times I try to make it obvious I’m not interested in her, she keeps showing up.

“Darla.” I nod, keeping my face neutral. “What can I do for you?”

“Oh, nothing.” She giggles. “I just made a batch of green tea muffins and thought I’d bring them by.”

“Ah. Thanks. Willie will be excited. He loves your baked goods.” That’s not a lie either. He’s the only one who can stomach them.

“Well, I thought you might like these, too.” She holds out the container.

I start to grab it when the alarm sounds.

“Engine two, truck nine, ambo seven, motor vehicle crash on highway ten,” the dispatcher says over the speaker system.

“Leave those on the chair there and I’ll get them to Willie,” I say over my shoulder as I race to the apparatus bay.

“Saved by the bell,” Porter murmurs.

I frown at him, even though I’m thinking the same thing. I shove my feet into my turnout pants and boots, switching my brain into work mode. We load up into the truck, each of us finding our respective places.

Porter shrugs. “What? It’s true. How long will it take for her to get the hint?”

“I’m going to start sending Willie out to greet her. They’d make a good couple.” He’s a couple of years older than me but would be a much better match for Darla. She’s sweet, if not a little odd, and Willie’s personality would complement hers much better than mine.

Plus, he’s more available than I am. My heart’s been locked down since I was a teen. It doesn’t seem to matter how many years go by, I can’t open it back up for anyone. I’ve tried. I dated one girl semi-seriously while I was in the academy, and it ended in absolute disaster. She told me I was emotionally distant, which was probably true, even though I tried to open up to her.

The sirens scream as we race toward the highway. It’s quiet in the truck as we mentally prepare for what we’re about to walk into. Motor vehicle accidents could mean any number of things. We might only need to be on damage control, or we could have to pull a passenger from the car in a race against time. It’s always a toss-up.

When we get to the crash site, the lights of police cars are flashing. Dad jumps out of his SUV and walks over to the police chief, Cooper Jackson. He’s one of Dad’s best friends and has been like an uncle to me since I joined the family.

I look down the steep ditch off the highway. A red sports car is upside down. The damage to its sides makes it obvious that it rolled down the embankment.

Dad dashes back over to us and starts handing out orders. “Brody, grab the jaws. We’ve got two passengers stuck inside the vehicle. Both were DOA, but we need to get them out of there. Chief Jackson said the gas tank has started to leak.”

We all jump into action, carefully navigating our way into the ditch. I help Brody assess the damage as well as the leak. It’s not bad, so we should have a little time, but all it takes is one spark and the whole thing could blow.

We work as a team, carefully opening the car door to get the driver out first. I’m watching the leak and keeping any potential spark from igniting the gas. With all the jostling, gas is starting to come out faster. I look up at the same time the paramedics get the driver onto the stretcher.

All the blood drains from my face when I recognize the man they’re carrying up the embankment.

“You okay?” Porter asks, pulling me out of the frozen shock.

“I…” I clear my throat. “I know him.”

“Ah, fuck, man. I’m sorry.” He squeezes my shoulder.

I shake my head and focus back on my job. Living in a small town, I’ve had to learn to compartmentalize my relationship with the victims. It’s not abnormal to know the people we get calls about. In order to do my job, I need a clear head, so I have to push my emotions away to deal with them later.

“Brody!” I shout. “We need to move.” The leak has only gotten worse in the few seconds of shock I allowed myself.

He jumps into action, popping open the passenger door. Even though the paramedics aren’t back yet, I reach into the car and pull Mrs. Gallagher out of her seat. We don’t have time to wait for them.

With the help of the guys, I carry Mrs. Gallagher up the steep hill and place her next to her husband.

Fuck, this is tough. We never had a great relationship, but it doesn’t mean I wanted anything to happen to them. Before I can stop them, the memory of the last time I saw them pops into my head. I’d just graduated from high school and wanted to spend the summer with my girl.

I pulled into Lilly’s driveway, remembering the first moment I met my best friend. She was sitting in that swing in their front yard, crying because they had just moved to town, and she hated it. I did my best to make her smile, and I felt like I could’ve flown when she finally did.

When school started that next fall, we were stuck together like glue. For the past three years, she was my whole world. I know it’s ridiculous to think that a high school romance could’ve turned into a forever kind of love, but I never doubted us for a second. She was the one for me. I knew it from the very beginning.

My Vans crunched over her gravel driveway as I walked to their front door. Nerves were knotting in my stomach at the welcome I was going to receive. Her parents never liked me much, but sometimes, I’d only get a disdainful look and then be allowed to enter. I’d take that over their usual snide remarks.

It only took a minute after I knocked for Mrs. Gallagher to open the door. Her face pinched when she saw me.

“Lilly isn’t here.”

My shoulders slumped. “Oh, um… Can you tell me where she is? I’ve been trying to get ahold of her, but she hasn’t answered.”

“She likely won’t respond. She’s gone.”

I frowned. “Gone? What do you mean?”

Mrs. Gallagher huffed as if it were a huge imposition to explain herself. “She left for her internship. She’s gone and won’t be coming back. Ever. She’s moved on to more important things now.”

“She left? She didn’t even say goodbye.” My voice almost broke at the end. Somehow I managed to hold it together. I didn’t want to let Mrs. Gallagher see me lose it.

“Probably for the best.” Mrs. Gallagher closed the door without another word.

I stood there for a moment, stunned. How could Lilly have just left without a single word? Why would she have done that?

I realized I was still standing at her front door, so I turned to walk back to my car. With every step I took, my heart broke a little more.

Dad’s hand on my shoulder pulls me out of my memories. I look at him, his dark eyes the complete opposite of my blue ones. His understanding expression gives me the bolstering I need. I take a deep breath and shove all the conflicting emotions down to deal with when we’re back at the house.

“We need to get the car settled. That leak is going to cause problems if we don’t handle it,” I tell Dad.

“The guys are on it.” He tilts his head toward the car.

While I was busy walking down memory lane, the rest of the guys were doing their job. “Shit. Sorry, what do they need?” I try to move toward the truck, but Dad’s hand on my shoulder stops me.

“They can handle it, son. Just stay here with me.”

My shoulders sag. I wish I were doing something besides standing here. It’s giving me too much space to think. With Lilly’s parents gone, will she come back to Sonoma? She hasn’t visited once since she left, and even if she did, I can’t imagine she’d stay very long. I probably won’t even see her. That would be for the best. After the way she left things, the anger still simmers in my gut. I’m not sure what I’d say to her if I did see her.

But I can’t deny that a part of me is dying to find out how she’s been these past eight years. Did she become a lawyer like she wanted? Is she married? Does she have kids? Fuck, what if she comes home with her family? What little is left of my heart would shatter completely if that happened.

Maybe that would be a good thing. I could finally let her go and move on.