Chapter 7
SEVEN
Thursday, May 4, 2:15 P.M.
Gus couldn’t breathe. Heat and darkness crushed into him, a massive weight pinning him down. Shrill chirps from a PASS device sliced the air, an alarm that meant a firefighter had been down for more than thirty seconds. Followed by screams and prayers to whomever was listening.
Pain snaked through Gus, so total it felt alive.
“Gus!”
Gus’s heart thundered in his ears. Was that Walters? What the hell was he doing here? The guy wasn’t a firefighter for fuck’s sake and?—
“Gus? Hey, it’s okay. You were just dreaming.”
Startled, Gus jerked back, eyes flying open as icy fingers of fear wrapped even tighter around his heart. And then the ache in his ribs flared bright and he groaned.
“Fucking ow .” He tried to hold very still. “Christ on a cracker, that sucks.”
“I know it does,” Ian said. “You need to unclench or it’ll hurt more.”
Gus rubbed the sore spot on his chest and worked at relaxing his muscles. He was sore all over, thanks to the trip he’d taken into the wall back at the pub followed by days of sitting around doing nothing. But he was safe. There was no fire or debris pinning him, nobody screaming—dying—somewhere in the dark. He was at his ex-boyfriend’s apartment and, aside from ribs that ached like a motherfucker, everything was okay.
Elliott, Ian’s giant fluff ball Malamute mix, nosed at Gus’s hand with a soft whuff.
“I’m all right, buddy.” Gus stroked his fingers over Elliott’s muzzle and got a lick in return. “Sorry I scared you.”
“You weren’t too bad,” Ian said. “A little thrashing and cursing, nothing major.”
His tone was easy, the way he’d always made it in the past when he’d talked Gus down from his nightmares. But Gus ached in a whole different way hearing him, the loss of the life they’d shared abruptly front and center and fresh in a way he hadn’t felt in a very long time. Which was stupid when they’d both moved on, Ian with a new guy and Gus with … a cat that didn’t live with him.
Setting his jaw, Gus let Ian help him sit up and rearrange the pillows they’d stacked around him. He’d been holed up at Ian’s since his release from the hospital, too stoned and off balance to stay on his own out at his sister’s while she traveled for work. He was grateful for the help and care Ian and his nurse buddies had given him but felt unmoored at the same time. Because Gus didn’t belong in this tiny apartment any more than he belonged in his sister’s duplex.
Christ, get a grip.
“Connor’s on his way over,” Ian said. “Wants to check on you before his shift, make sure we’ve been taking good care of you.”
Gus nodded. “Okay.”
There was a pause, and then Elliott was climbing up on to the couch to spread out beside Gus and set his big noggin in Gus’s lap, a warm, comforting weight.
“Are you hurting?” Ian had a thoughtful expression on his face when Gus looked up at him. “You’ve been really quiet.”
“I can be quiet.”
“But you aren’t, typically.”
Coming around to the opposite end of the couch, Ian squished into the tiny space Elliott had left him and looked Gus in the eye. “We both know you’re not good at admitting when you’re in pain, so are you hurting or is this something else?”
Gus scritched a spot behind the dog’s right ear. “My pain isn’t too bad. But can I ask you a question?”
“Shoot.”
“Do I make everything about me?”
Ian blinked, perhaps thrown by the quick topic change, but then a crease appeared on his forehead. “No. I mean, everyone gets self-centered on occasion, but I wouldn’t say it’s your default. You couldn’t do your job if it were,” he added. “What made you ask that?”
Gus went to shrug and felt instant regret. “Ow.” He took a careful breath and patted Elliott some more. “Ben said as much the last time I talked to him.”
“That’s rich coming from him,” Ian said with disgust. “Remind me why you still talk to that fuckface motherfucker?”
“Because hearing you curse like a sailor is fun?” Gus smiled at the unrepentant gleam in his friend’s eye. “Truthfully, Ben still owes me an assload of money and if I block him, he’ll take it as permission to stop paying me back.”
“Fair.” Ian grunted. “I still say you should have filed a police report and put that shit on blast so everyone knows what he did.”
Gus appreciated the sentiment, but he had more important things to deal with than exposing his ex-boyfriend’s fuckery on social media. Starting with getting healthy so he could go back to work.
“Lemonade’s been sleeping with one of your t-shirts,” Connor said over his coffee mug. He’d arrived bearing news from Station 1 and a lemon ricotta cake they’d taken out onto Ian’s small balcony. “Also, Walters is working days and riding with Heather while you’re off the truck.”
Gus whistled softly. “Bet she loves that. Heather hates riding with recruits,” he said to Ian, “but she might let Walters live given he knows what he’s doing. Working days is gonna suck for his kid-care schedule though, and I’m sure he’s pissed at me for that.”
“What is it with you and that guy?” Ian asked suddenly. “Monday night, you and he were growling and spitting like you hated each other and I’ve never seen you like that with a partner.”
“They’ve got a frenemies kind of thing going,” Connor said to Ian, grinning impishly at Gus’s ‘WTF’ look. “I figure it’s because they’re chasing the same job.”
Ian’s eyebrows went up. “Oh, really?”
“No, not oh, really.” Gus flapped a hand at his friends. “Yes, Walters wants on P1, but he’s still a recruit and not eligible. As for Monday, please recall I was starting to trip balls on codeine and Walters … Well, he was justifiably angry that I put his ass in danger by not waiting for backup.”
Connor cocked an eyebrow at Gus. “You had backup, bruh—we just couldn’t get to you through the mayhem. A lot of stuff went sideways on that call, all of it beyond our control.”
Intellectually, Gus could agree. There’d been no way to predict a bar fight would cut Walters and him off from P1 and the cops or that Brendan would react so wildly after the NARCAN. But Connor didn’t know Gus and Madoc had quarreled beforehand or that those angry words had sent Gus into a tailspin he’d carried into the pub along with the jump bag.
“Connor’s right—the call going sideways wasn’t your fault,” Ian said. “And if I’m honest, your partner seemed more overwhelmed than angry.”
“Totally,” Connor agreed. “In fact, I ran into Walters in my neighborhood yesterday and he just wanted to know you were all right.”
Gus nibbled a slice of the cake, hardly tasting it over a bitter impulse to scoff and aware he was being unfair. He’d glimpsed genuine dismay on Walters’ face back in that Province Street pub. Walters had reached for the emergency button on his radio, a gesture borne from a panic that was surprising in a seasoned veteran like him.
“Why did you send me for the gurney?”
Shit. Was Walters blaming himself for Gus’s injury? Thinking that if he’d done something differently, Gus wouldn’t have had his ass handed to him?
Gus pursed his lips. ‘Hope for the best, prepare for the worst’ was a mantra the crews repeated like a charm to keep themselves safe. But sometimes the worst did happen to patients and crewmates alike, leaving those left unscathed to face the fact that no one definable thing—not luck or faith or whatever force they believed in—could fully protect them from harm.
There were still days Gus grappled with the guilt of having survived while Beni had not. But it wasn’t Walters’ fault that Gus’d been injured back in that pub any more than it was Gus’s own, and he needed to stop them both from blaming the wrong person.
“I’ll talk to Walters next week when I’m back on light duty," Gus said. “In the meantime, I need to find a new place to live so if you have any leads, I want to hear them.”
“Ooh, I have one.” Ian’s eyes lit up. “Ground floor studio in Fort Point owned by some friends who moved to Italy. They’ll charge you wicked cheap rent and the unit is already furnished.”
“Yes,” Gus said immediately, smiling at his friends’ laughter. He’d taken only his clothes and personal possessions from Ben’s, and he really liked the idea of not having to buy new furniture. “If there’s room for me to get around in my chair, I will take it.”
He signed a lease two days later after touring the tiny apartment with his ma and a real estate agent. The single room was simple but modern with a high ceiling and ample floor space for Gus’s wheelchair when he wanted to use it, plus an ingenious room divider with a built-in couch that converted into a bed. As the building was a scant half mile from Station 1, Gus could bike or walk to work if he wanted, and there was even a public transit line that served the neighborhood, which just made the place all the more perfect.
Less than perfect was sitting behind the reception desk at the front of Station 1, unable to respond to the dispatch alarms.
“Ambulance A1, P1, person down on the roof of 163 Tremont Street, possible cardiac disorder,” the dispatcher said through the speaker overhead. “Male, aged fifty-three, 10-D-5, known cardiac history, responsive with difficulty breathing. Code Two, BFD is en route.”
Grinding his teeth, Gus flipped the page of the report he’d been reading. While grateful for the hours and pay and the time he got to spend with his cat, Gus wasn’t cut out to work in an office, every hour a slow crush of boredom. And knowing A1 was out there chasing calls without him—Walters on a roof for fuck’s sake—sent guilt crawling through Gus that he couldn’t shake.
Until distraction arrived in the form of a young woman holding the street door open for a child carrying a pint-sized hockey stick.
Gus set his tablet aside. The woman was blonde and smartly dressed in a black suit with a briefcase over one shoulder and a purple duffel bag over the other, while the kid was a cute little thing clad in a blue tracksuit dotted with spots of red and had big, curious eyes under a Boston Bruins ball cap.
“Hello,” Gus said with a nod. Neither the girl nor the woman appeared injured or in distress and he figured they’d come in by mistake or to use the restroom. “Welcome to Boston EMS Station 1. What can I help you with?”
The blonde’s answering smile was tight. “Would it be possible to speak with Madoc Walters? I’m Noelene McKenna.”
Gus cocked his head. Noelene was Walters’ wife’s name, wasn’t it? Which had to mean the child regarding him from under the ball cap’s brim had to be?—
“Madoc’s my daddy,” Valerie Walters said cheerily. “And he drives a ham-bu-lance.”
The kid’s grin was all Walters, wide and adorably toothy, and Gus gave her one back.
“I know your daddy!” he said. “I’m Gus, his partner on the truck.”
“HO-LEE CATS.” Valerie’s voice took on the earsplitting volume that came so naturally to many young children. “Daddy said your ribs are a mess!”
“They’re pretty janky, but I’m getting better.” Standing, Gus gestured to his side like a gameshow host. “How do I look?”
“I think pretty good!” Valerie beamed at him. “Daddy was worried, y’know. And he hates working days.”
“We all hate it,” Noelene said in an agreeable tone. She’d pulled a phone out from somewhere and scrunched her nose at it. “Our schedule is a big house of cards, and one change can topple the whole thing.”
Gus imagined a lot of routines had been disrupted to bring Walters’ wife, daughter, and a hockey stick wrapped in rainbow tape to the station on a Monday afternoon and damnit, he wished he’d been able to track down his partner to talk.
He extended his hand to Noelene. “Gus Dawson, the guy who knocked down your card house.”
Noelene dropped the phone and shook Gus’s hand, and the genuine smile she gave him this time changed her whole face. “It’s nice to meet you, Gus. I was sorry to hear you’d been injured. This is Valerie,” she added with a glance toward her daughter. “Who could maybe take her hat off while we’re inside?”
Gus bent at the waist and shook hands with the kid, who had a head full of long, curly dark hair under her cap and really did resemble her dad, though her eyes were warm brown instead of blue.
“Your husband’s out on a call,” Gus said to Noelene once he’d straightened back up. “I can’t say how long he’ll be, but we can ask the dispatcher to get him a message.”
Noelene’s face did something complicated, seeming to freeze and thaw in rapid succession, and Gus got the feeling he’d said the wrong thing.
“I guess that explains why he hasn’t picked up my calls,” Noelene said with another frown for her phone. “I know he gets busy.”
“Daddy needs to come pick me up,” Valerie said to Gus. “Him or Uncle T usually pick me up from hockey, but they couldn’t today ’cause Uncle T is on a trip and Daddy’s at work.” She looked at her mom then. “Are you still taking me to school tomorrow?”
“Of course,” Noelene replied. “I’ll pick you up at your daddy’s in the morning, the way I did today.”
The child nodded, seemingly satisfied. “I just wanted to check.”
Gus offered to take them back to the canteen, his brain racing as he picked the purple duffel up from the floor. Noelene had made it sound like she lived apart from her family, and wasn’t that a surprise when Walters had never mentioned being divorced or even separated?
“Mr. Gus?” Valerie eyed him. “Do you play hockey?”
“I’m more of a basketball guy,” Gus replied, “and I love baseball. But I’d try hockey if I felt like it.”
“Uh-huh. What’s the canteen?”
“Oh, um, it’s basically a kitchen with a bunch of tables in it for people to sit at when they eat lunch or take breaks.”
“I bring my lunch to school,” Valerie said. “And Daddy gives me money so I can buy milk and dessert. Do you like butterscotch pudding?”
Gus smiled. “I don’t mind it. I think chocolate is better, though. Ooh, or rice pudding, if there are no raisins in it.”
“Raisins are gross.” Valerie made a terrible face, sticking her tongue out as if she were gagging. “Kenny Baker at school eats them with sunflower butter and celery ’cause that’s how his family does Ants on a Log, and he chews with his mouth open.”
Gus wanted to grimace himself. He’d eaten Ants on a Log a million times as a kid but with cream cheese, thanks very much. And then to add raisins ? Clearly Valerie Walters needed to examine her friendships.
The kid’s face lit up as they entered the canteen, and she dashed to the seating area with the hockey stick still clutched in one hand.
“Ooh, it’s big!” she exclaimed. “It smells like coffee and toast, and I like all these chairs!” Her curly hair bounced as she ran and she waved at the receptionist, Tracie, who’d been on her afternoon break.
Smiling, Tracie waved back before looking to Gus. “How you doin’, Gus? You need a hand with anything?”
“Doin’ just fine, Tracie, thanks,” Gus replied. “When you’re done, would you mind getting a message to Walters that his family is here?”
Noelene’s phone chirped again. “I need to call my office, Val,” she said, frowning when her daughter didn’t glance back. “Valerie, are you listening to me?”
“I’ll keep an eye on her,” Gus offered. “Make sure she stays out of trouble.”
Valerie let out a squeal then as if to prove Gus full of shit, but it was only because she’d caught sight of Lemonade, who’d emerged from one of her hiding spots to investigate the new visitors.
“I found the kitty!” Valerie bounced on her toes, her eyes shining bright. “And she’s super friendly!”
Val’s at the station , pls pick her up.
The fuck? Madoc stared at the message on his phone’s screen. That couldn’t be right—he wasn’t even off duty for another couple of hours.
And in no hurry to get back to Station 1 anyway, when being out in the field made it easy to put off having to deal with Gus, a thought Madoc hated himself a little for having.
He could only imagine how bored Gus was stuck behind a desk. That seeing a familiar face might cheer him up, despite Madoc and him having parted on not the best terms. Madoc wanted to see Gus, especially knowing Gus’d had to stay with his ex because he’d needed help while he’d been on pain meds. But the idea of meeting his partner’s brown eyes and apologizing after way too many days had passed in silence between them had made Madoc’s words back up in his throat and he’d put it off again and again, aware he was acting like the worst kind of emo brat.
Madoc looked at his dayshift partner, Heather Bennett, over the hood of the truck. “Hey, Heather? I need to make a call real quick. Something’s going on with my kid’s pickup.”
He braced himself for grumbling. While an excellent EMT, Heather wasn’t a good match for Madoc, his chaotic personal life at odds with her general lack of patience for … people. But Heather surprised him now with an easy nod.
“I’ll go grab a snack.” She waved toward a convenience store on the opposite side of the street, the heavy box braids she had tied back in a tactical ponytail swinging gently. “You want anything?”
“No, but thanks. This shouldn’t take long,” Madoc said. “Pretty sure Val’s mom just got her signals crossed.”
The problem, of course, was that Noelene’s signals weren’t crossed at all and she truly expected Madoc to drop everything and pick Valerie up right the fuck now.
“Where is Val,” Madoc pressed. “Did you really bring her to Station 1?”
“Um, yes? She’s hanging out with your partner right now.” Noelene frowned at Madoc through his phone’s screen. “You know, Gus, the guy who seems to think you and I are still married.”
Heat crept up Madoc cheeks. “Noels.”
“Fine.” Rolling her eyes, Noelene flipped the camera on her phone away from herself and there was Madoc’s girl, safe and sound as she sat cross-legged on the floor of the canteen at Station 1 with Princess Lemonade Small Void Kitty and Super Gus Dawson.
Relief washed through Madoc as he watched his daughter laughing at Lemonade, who’d just leaped from the floor onto Gus’s shoulder. Gus was hamming it up a little for his guest while the cat kneaded biscuits into his shirt and God, he looked so much better than he had the last time Madoc had seen him, healthy and whole and like his typical cheerful self. He smiled at whatever Val was saying, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and Madoc’s heart did the strangest flip.
“See? She’s fine.” Noelene switched the camera back to herself. “I still need you to come pick her up. I’m due in Back Bay in an hour and since you didn’t want to hire a nanny for your daughter, you get to figure this out.”
The muscles in Madoc’s lower back tightened. He hated the way Noelene talked about Valerie like she was a problem that needed handling. His daughter instead of theirs , as if Noelene wasn’t also Valerie’s parent.
Madoc kept his voice even. “I’m still on probation. You know I can’t walk off shift unless there’s an emergency.”
“And what do you call this? “
“Life. We agreed you’d handle the school pickup and drop-off while I’m on days and Tarek’s away and that I’d handle everything else.”
Noelene sighed. “I know we did,” she said more gently. “But you’re not the only one with a job and it’s not fair that I’m always the bad guy.”
“Is that Daddy?” Valerie asked from off-screen, much closer now and her tone petulant, not at all like a child who’d been merry just moments ago. “I want to talk, too!”
“Not right now, Val.” Noelene was looking down and to her right. “The adults need some minutes to straighten things out, so don’t go making drama.”
“I’m not making drama,” Valerie huffed, only for a new player to enter the fray a second later.
“I can keep an eye on Valerie if you need someone to do it, Ms. McKenna,” Gus said. “I went off duty a while ago and it’s not a problem for me to hang out here with her until Madoc’s shift ends.”
Madoc’s stomach fell to his shoes and hell, he didn’t know what to react to first: Gus’s offer to kid-sit, Gus calling Madoc by his given name for the first time ever, or the assessing look that crossed Noelene’s face.
“You don’t mind?” She furrowed her brow at Gus. “I wouldn’t ask but I have to?—”
“Noels, no,” Madoc said over her because what the fuck was she doing? Gus was Madoc’s partner, not a wanna-be nanny. “I’m not asking Gus to do this.”
Noelene turned the frown back to Madoc. “Why? He offered and I can’t miss this meeting.”
“Can I give Princess Lemonade some milk?” Valerie said abruptly from off-screen.
“Milk hurts her tummy,” Gus replied in his easy way, “but we have these tubes of yummy cat yogurt that she really digs.”
“Cats can eat yogurt?!”
“Nah, I just call it yogurt because of the way it looks. C’mon, I’ll show you.”
A pause followed, Noelene’s gaze tracking right as she watched Gus introduce Valerie to the wonders of Lemonade-approved snacks. She’d started to look faintly amused by the time she turned her attention back to Madoc.
“What do you think?” she asked.
Madoc thought Noelene should fucking take care of her daughter because parenting was also her job. But that wasn’t fair; Madoc and Noelene had always supported each other’s careers and the personal and financial successes of the athletes she represented in her job as a sports agent were important to her in the same way the health and well-being of Madoc’s patients were to him. Madoc also felt sure Valerie would be in good hands if they took Gus up on his offer to watch her. Gus was the kid whisperer after all, who charmed young patients with drawings, hand puppets, and the kindest of words, just like he was the guy who’d had Madoc’s back every night they worked together.
“Madoc,” Noelene said quietly. “We need a solution.”
Madoc licked his lips. “I know. I’d trust Gus with Val. But I’d like to talk to them both before you go.”
“Ooh!” Valerie said, very loudly from somewhere. “Cat yogurt stinks . But the kitty sure loves it!”
Smirking, Noelene brought the phone over to Gus, no doubt assuming the matter was settled. Madoc hadn’t forgotten Gus had a life of his own though, or that he was recovering from an injury that could make kid-sitting a six-year-old challenging.
“You sure you want to do this?” Madoc asked him straight-out. “Val’s a sweetie but has lots of energy. She’ll want to run you ragged.”
“I can handle it. Although …” Gus grimaced slightly. “Is it okay that I promised to share some bolos with her?”
Smiling, Madoc nodded. “Yes, that’s fine. Val likes bread the same way you do, so please limit her to just one or she won’t eat dinner tonight.”
“Good to know. One bolo and that’s it.”
“Thank you.” Madoc paused a beat before adding, “You know I won’t hold it against you if you say no, right?”
“Sure.” Gus regarded Madoc steadily. “But I can see you’re in a bind, and I can help if you want it.”
Madoc knew then that this was more than one partner doing a favor for the other. This was Gus making a connection. Extending an olive branch because Madoc hadn’t known how.
Steeling himself, Madoc reached out and grabbed it.