Chapter 17
Blaze couldn’t sleep again.
For several nights straight, exhaustion had dragged at his body hard enough to make his bones ache, yet every time he closed his eyes, he saw Johanna sitting across from him at Clarence’s looking terrified to trust him.
That expression followed him everywhere, from the firehouse to his apartment and into every quiet moment where his mind had enough room to think too much.
In the next room, Ryan slept sprawled across a recliner like a man deeply unconcerned with adulthood or lumbar support. Michael snored loud enough to violate multiple city ordinances from somewhere down the hall.
But Blaze sat staring at his phone like a damn fool. No new text from Johanna. Not since earlier.
JOHANNA: Thanks for checking on me. Long day.
The message was polite, short, and painfully careful.
And Blaze hated careful Johanna. Because careful meant fear was winning.
He scrubbed one hand across his face and stared at the screen.
The worst part was that he understood exactly why she was scared.
Years ago, he'd spent most of his twenties chasing the next challenge, the next opportunity, and the next version of himself because standing still felt too much like failure back then. He never stopped to consider what that looked like from Johanna's side of things.
Every dream he chased had taught her the same painful lesson: eventually, something else would matter more than staying with her.
Rain hammered harder outside while lightning flashed briefly through the narrow kitchen windows.
Blaze lowered his eyes to the coffee in his hands and remembered the look on Johanna's face when she admitted she'd finally let herself believe loving him was safe again.
That memory sat in his chest like a blade.
Around one in the morning, Ryan wandered into the kitchen wearing black sweatpants, a T-shirt, and exhaustion. He stopped immediately when he noticed Blaze still sitting at the table.
“Bruh.” Ryan blinked slowly. “You look terrible.”
Blaze lifted his middle finger without energy.
Ryan snorted softly before grabbing orange juice from the refrigerator.
“You talk to Jo?”
“No.”
“You try to call her?”
“No.”
Ryan leaned against the counter studying him carefully while distant thunder rattled outside.
“You gonna fight for her,” he asked finally, “or just sit in here looking emotionally constipated?”
Blaze glared at him. “Can you stop talking like a therapy podcast?”
“I’m serious.”
Blaze exhaled heavily. “I turned down Seattle.”
Ryan blinked.
“Wait. You already turned it down?”
“Yep.”
Ryan stared at him. “Before the lunch?”
“Two days before.”
The admission settled heavily between them.
Blaze had already made his decision. The lieutenant position. The bigger department. The opportunity he'd spent years believing he wanted.
He'd walked away because Seattle stopped being a good opportunity when somewhere between the bachelor auction, Baltimore, and waking up beside Johanna, he'd realized something.
None of it mattered if she wasn't part of it.
He'd already chosen her.
The only person who didn't know it yet was Johanna.
Ryan's expression softened.
“Well, that's important information, genius.”
Blaze huffed a humorless laugh. “Tell that to Jo.”
Ryan took a long sip of orange juice. “Well,” he said with a shrug, “you can start by understanding this isn't just about Seattle.”
Blaze looked up immediately.
“That woman thinks loving you means eventually losing you.”
Hearing the truth out loud made Blaze sit completely still. Because that was exactly what this whole situation came down to. Johanna wasn't afraid of Seattle. She was afraid of history repeating itself.
Afraid she'd hand him her heart again only to wake up one day and discover his dreams had outgrown her.
Blaze stared toward the rain-streaked bay doors. “I never wanted her feeling like that.”
Ryan gave him a long look. “Intentions and impact ain't the same thing.”
Damn.
Before Blaze could answer, alarms suddenly exploded through the station loud enough to shake the walls.
Every firefighter instinct inside him activated immediately.
Both men moved at once.
Thoughts of Johanna disappeared beneath adrenaline and muscle memory while dispatch crackled through the speakers overhead.
“Engine 45 respond—structure fire—possible occupants trapped—”
Blaze was already pulling on turnout gear before dispatch finished giving the address.
Firefighters rushed through the bays with practiced urgency and controlled chaos.
Boots thundered across concrete floors while turnout gear snapped into place and engines roared awake around them.
The bay doors lifted slowly while red emergency lights flashed across wet pavement and drizzling rain.
Whatever was happening with Johanna would still be there when the fire was out.
The problem was, Blaze Carter had already chosen her.
Now he just had to convince Johanna to believe it.
* * *
The house fire sat near the edge of Sheraton Beach in one of the town’s older neighborhoods, where narrow streets wound tightly between aging homes built decades before modern fire codes ever existed.
By the time Engine 45 arrived, flames were already tearing aggressively through the second-floor windows of a two-story white clapboard house while thick smoke rolled violently into the storm-black sky.
Rain hammered their turnout gear, running in streams from helmets and coat sleeves, but it barely touched the fire consuming the structure from the inside out.
Neighbors crowded the sidewalks despite the storm, some crying openly while others shouted over the chaos. Red emergency lights flashed across terrified faces while the scent of smoke, burning wood, and melting insulation filled the air.
Blaze jumped from the truck with command instincts taking over before his boots hit the ground. Smoke thickened around the structure in heavy black waves.
“Status!”
A patrol officer rushed toward him through the rain, breathing hard. “Possible elderly female still inside!”
“Hell,” Blaze muttered before grabbing his mask.
“Michael with me. Ryan, ladder side Bravo. Check exposure risk on the neighboring house.”
“Copy!”
The second Blaze crossed the threshold of the front entrance, the heat slammed into him like a living thing.
Smoke choked the narrow hallway while flames crackled violently somewhere overhead.
Visibility dropped almost instantly beneath thick black smoke curling across the ceiling, forcing Blaze to rely on instinct, muscle memory, and years of training.
His flashlight sliced through the darkness while the house groaned around them beneath the weight of fire and water damage.
“Primary search!” Blaze barked.
Michael moved beside him through the smoke while debris rained intermittently from above. Every breath inside Blaze’s mask sounded harsh and mechanical against the roar of flames swallowing the second floor.
“Victim located!” Michael’s voice cut sharply through the smoke.
Blaze moved toward the back bedroom where an elderly woman lay unconscious beside the partially collapsed bed. Training took over, and he made his way toward the victim with a fierce determination not to fail someone who was counting on him.
Smoke rolled heavily across the ceiling while flames snapped aggressively through the hallway beyond the doorway.
The fire shifted overhead with an ugly groan.
“Fire’s moving fast! Get out of there!” Ryan’s voice crackled through the radio.
Blaze and Michael dragged her toward the hallway while smoke thickened around them fast enough to destroy visibility completely. Heat intensified with violent speed as flames rolled harder down the hallway, swallowing oxygen inside the structure.
“Command wants you out! Now!” Ryan shouted.
The hallway glowed orange within seconds. Then the ceiling cracked with a sharp, violent sound powerful enough to shake the floor beneath them.
Michael cursed immediately. “Move!”
Blaze turned instinctively toward the sound just as the hallway behind him collapsed inward. Another groan tore through the structure, louder this time, and everything happened fast after that.
Heat exploded overhead while burning debris crashed downward through smoke thick enough to suffocate. Blaze shoved Michael and the elderly woman forward seconds before part of the ceiling collapsed directly behind them with a deafening roar.
The impact rattled the entire structure hard enough to throw Blaze sideways.
“Carter!” Ryan’s voice thundered through the radio.
Blaze coughed violently against the smoke while forcing himself forward through collapsing debris and unbearable heat. Pain shot through his shoulder after something heavy slammed into him from above, but adrenaline drowned most of it beneath pure survival instinct.
And somehow, somewhere between the suffocating heat, and adrenaline flooding his bloodstream, Johanna still found her way into his head. He remembered her curled against his chest asleep in bed.
Jesus, love makes people reckless.
Because Blaze realized with terrifying clarity that the thought of losing Johanna scared him more than running into burning buildings ever had.
Another crack split through the structure overhead far too close this time, and the heat became unbearable.
The hallway around him glowed orange beneath rolling fire.
Water hissed against burning timber somewhere overhead.
Blaze tried moving forward, but debris crashed down again somewhere nearby, sparks exploding through the hissing steam while the house groaned around him like it was finally giving up the fight.
Then one thought hit Blaze with terrifying clarity just as the ceiling gave way above him and slammed him hard to the ground.
I can’t leave her like this.
* * *
Outside, neighbors screamed as flames burst violently through the roof, sending sparks and burning debris spiraling into the storm-dark sky. Rain hammered the scene while firefighters rushed across the lawn shouting orders over the roar of collapsing timber and exploding glass.
Ryan ripped off his helmet near the front yard, his eyes locked on the burning structure as timbers groaned and snapped overhead.
Seconds later, Michael emerged through the front doorway with another firefighter helping him carry the elderly woman. He collapsed hard onto the wet grass while medics rushed forward immediately.
Ryan rushed over. “Where’s Blaze?”
Michael doubled over coughing while rain streamed down his soot-covered face. For one terrible second, confusion clouded his expression.
Then Ryan saw it.
Fear. Real fear.
Michael looked back toward the collapsing house, panic flashing visibly across his face. “The ceiling—”
Ryan's stomach dropped.
Blaze never came out.