Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
JAX
At the time, finishing up my training to become a certified firefighter sounded like a good idea.
Now that Callie is back? I kind of wish I slid back into old habits and blew it off.
The firehouse is chill—as it always is while we wait for calls—but my insides feel like a tornado has run through them.
She’s back.
Working at the very bar where I bartend.
Ten years ago we hooked up and then she ran.
I know logically that was more to do with everything that happened after we had sex, but it was still a blow to my ego.
I’ve tried dating since she left. To get my mind off of her, but every time another woman smiles at me, I can’t help comparing it to the one that stole my heart.
“What are you sulking for?” the captain grumbles as he plops onto the couch.
I quickly lock my phone, hiding all evidence of my online stalking, and shrug. “I’m not sulking.”
“Bullshit. You look like someone stole your favorite toy. Are you mad it’s taking so long?”
The certification program is grueling. I’m in the final stages, needing a few more experiences fighting a live fire, but I’m not mad about how long it’s taking. If there are no calls, that means everyone is safe.
Even still, I lie rather than tell him I’m longing for a woman who may never want anything to do with me again. “I’m ready to get my certification.”
He nods and claps a hand on my shoulder. “You’ve done a great job. Have you considered my offer?”
“I’m thinking about it.” Working with the fire house full time would mean quitting the bar, and with Callie back, I’m tempted to say no, but this is my chance to finally be more than the Williams brother who had so much potential and wasted it away.
I hear the whispers, the fucking gossip.
Compared to my brothers, I’m no good. I’m the one everyone worries will die young.
Jax Williams is bad news. Trouble follows him wherever he goes.
They can say whatever they want. There are only four people I’ve ever cared about making proud.
Callie, my brothers, and my dad. I started training before he died, and as much as I’m tempted to let my life fall into ruins again, I promised him I’d get my certification.
“The offer is there when you’re ready.” The captain glances around at the guys lounging nearby. “You know, when I was your age—”
Alarms cut him off. The sound pulses in my head as the red alert light flares to life. Everyone jumps into action. Captain and I spring off the couch and race for our gear quicker than seems humanly possible.
“Everyone in the engine now!” Captain barks. “Williams, in the back.”
“Yes, sir.”
The team, who have all worked together for a few years, move with smooth efficiency. Not even a rookie can slow them down. I climb my ass inside the engine before they leave me behind, heart pounding and hands shaking with adrenaline.
I measure my breaths as the truck tears out of the garage. The cars on the road screech to a stop to let us through. The worst part of fire fighting in Big Ridge is the roads. They’re small, winding through the mountain, and depending on the time of year, it’s almost impossible to drive through.
With Captain in the driver’s seat and the way he blares the sirens, cars practically dodge out of the way as the huge engine barrels down the road. The dispatcher’s voice sounds, and we all hold our breath.
“Two story building. One person unaccounted for.”
“Fuck,” a few of us say at the same time.
None of us like the idea of losing someone. It’s our job to get there quick and to put the fire out before anyone gets hurt. This is my first live call with someone stuck inside a burning building, and dread hangs heavy in my gut.
Silence blankets us. Even the Captain has stopped shouting at the idiots on the road.
Nothing matters but getting there. The smoke is thick and black, cresting over the tops of the trees off the main road.
My pulse skips and the engine careens around the curve.
Before we’re even fully stopped, the doors are open.
By the time the tires come to a standstill, we’re all on the ground.
The captain starts shouting orders, and I fall in line, helping to get the hose ready. A woman I don’t recognize rushes up, eyes frantic, and she grabs onto his arm.
“My son! He’s in there, please help him!”
Captain is normally impatient with us, but with her, he gently takes her hand and looks her dead in the eye. “We’ll do our best. Where is he?”
She sucks in a breath. “I don’t know. We were playing hide and seek.” She pauses for a second, thinking. “He usually hides up in my closet at home on the second floor, but we’re renting this place and—” She chokes off with a sob.
“We’ll find him.” Captain tips his head and the team gets to work. Two people on the hose. A few heading in. “Check the second floor first. Jaxon. Get in there.”
Most people would look at a burning building and tuck tail, but as I head out with my team, determination rushes through me. There’s no way in hell I’m leaving this building without that kid. Be it me or my team, someone is going to find him and save him.
Even with the suit, the heat from the fire washes over me. The fire rages on the left, in what looks like the kitchen, but the flames have eaten through the second floor and are climbing, spreading fast.
Mack, the guy with the hose, stops and gets to work on that. “Check the second floor,” he shouts at me. I nod and rush up, head on a swivel as he orders the others around. Smoke billows out of the bedroom above the kitchen. Seeing as the floor is already gone, I check the next closest bedroom.
“Hey! Is anyone here?” I rip the closet door open, heart jack hammering, and shove the clothes back and forth. The kid isn’t here. Dropping to one knee, I check under the bed. Fuck. Where is he?
With no time to waste, I run out of the room and dip into the next which is as empty as the first. Every second that passes without finding him makes my heart pound harder.
My lungs burning despite the filtered air, throat closing as I move to the final bedroom.
Every person on the team has a story of how they lost someone on the job.
This can’t be my first. Not a fucking kid. Please, god. I know you probably despise me like the rest of the town, but don’t let it be this fucking kid. I charge into the room.
“Hello?”
“Help me!” a strangled voice screams from the closet.
Relief gut punches me, but we’re not out of the woods yet. I rush over and yank the door open, only the knob sticks. Locked. Mother fucker. “Can you unlock it?”
“I tried,” he wails. “Please help me!”
I can’t focus on the desperation in his voice or it’ll eat me alive. Blocking out the roaring of the fire, his sobs, and the blood rushing through my ears, I seek out that same clarity I’ve found in all my training drills. “Stand as far back from the door as you can.”
Somewhere in the house, a loud creak sounds and a big crash rattles the walls.
The kid screams. My heart almost gives out.
Not a fucking kid. Exhaling, I shout again for him to move back and kick the door.
Once, twice, snarling with the third, and finally the frame splinters.
The door swings open. A tiny boy, probably six or seven, races out of the closet and launches himself at me.
I catch him with a grunt, wrangling him into a better position to carry him, hearing me soothing him but not really sure what I’m saying because my brain is still stuck on that crashing sound. He’s shaking as I carry him out of the room. My hand rests on his back as I assess the damage.
The beam supporting the rooms over the kitchen gave out. The rooms caved in, but the third must be supported by another, because it’s still standing. Bile rises.
“Jax!” Mack’s yell carries up the stairs.
“I got him!”
“Get your ass out of the house NOW!”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This is not good. There’s no way I can let my panic show.
“Have you ever seen the inside of a fire truck?” I ask as I carry him carefully down the shaking staircase.
That’s not a good sign. The kid doesn’t answer.
Another crash sounds and his arms tighten.
“I’ll show you how to do the sirens once we’re out of here, okay? ”
Three more steps and we’re on the first floor. A loud creak reverberates through me. Tucking the kid’s head, I cradle him to my body and sprint out of the building, running past Mack and the rest of the team, putting as much distance as I can while everyone screams to stand back.
“Oh my god!” His mom appears, tears streaming down her face and reaching for her son with trembling hands. I hand him off and she clutches him, sobbing even harder as he cries against her shoulder. She’s too in shock to say anything, but I don’t take it personally. She almost lost her son.
I turn back to the building, ready to head back in if needed, but everyone is standing as far back as possible.
A hose is still spraying water as the house sways, something that shouldn’t be happening if the builders did their job right, but this is one of those new homes built for short-term rentals.
The fuckers who own the company probably cut as many corners as they could.
The house starts to collapse, and I spin around, shielding the mom and her boy with my body as a rush of debris and air races toward us.
They both cry out, and once I hear the captain give the all-clear signal, I rip my helmet off and check them over.
They’re both okay. I lead them to the EMTs, staying with them, carefully watching for all the signs that would take a good rescue and turn it into a nightmare.
The EMT gives me a knowing look. “I think you’ll be just fine,” he says, focusing on the boy again. “Your friend here got you out just in time.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” The mom wraps me in a hug, squeezing tight. “Thank you for saving him.”