Chapter 6
JJ
I leave my shift more tired than usual. I hadn’t expected such a short shift to mess me up so badly, but it was non-stop all day. We had back-to-back alarms, multiple extrications, too many deaths, and a shit ton of wrecked cars and assists with the firefighters to get to trapped victims.
Long fucking day. AJ is going to hear about it—even if it isn’t entirely his fault.
I toss my duffel into the back seat and get into the driver’s side to head home. I call AJ on the way.
“Hello?” His voice comes through the truck speakers. I lower the volume because it’s too fucking loud.
“You’re a prick, you know.”
“What the fuck for?”
“Today was shit. What the hell did you need it off for, anyway?”
“Emergency.”
“What kind?”
“Had to help a friend.”
“What friend? Since when do you have friends?”
He huffs out a laugh. “Wow, that hurts, man. Seriously,” he says, his voice lighter than it usually is. “I’ll have you know I have plenty of friends. Including you, asshole.”
I’ve known AJ a lot longer than most of the guys at the firehouse, which means I know more than most people do. Friendly and AJ don’t go together and it’s weird he’s avoiding telling me about this friend of his that he had to help, but I do the same to him, so I don’t have much room to talk.
“Yeah, I guess so,” I mutter.
“Text me when you want to get that drink. I have to go.”
“Yep, see ya.”
I end the call and drop the phone in my lap.
I sit in the car and stare at the house, not wanting to go in. I know what waits for me inside—a bunch of nothing. But what other choice do I have? Should I go to the bar?
I’m not in the mood for that. I’m too tired. Maybe if I head inside, take a shower, I’ll get right to bed and won’t have to worry about the fact I’m alone in the big ass house that my husband and I bought together for the sole purpose of starting a family.
He was going to run his businesses from here and be the sole provider for our child, while I still worked as a firefighter—something Franklin used to appreciate about me.
He said it was admirable. More than what he could ever do as an entrepreneur.
I love my job and I didn’t want to give it up, which he said was fine, but I wanted more than that, too.
Do I want more, still? I think I do, but I don’t know anymore. Franklin always makes my head a mess. Even when he’s not around, his voice echoes in my mind, arguing every point I make. Talking me out of the things I want.
With a heavy sigh, I grab my bag from the back and head into the house, ignoring everything I pass. Not that there’s much to see here in the first place.
Franklin gave his input on what he wanted for furniture and decorations, but by the time it came to buying everything, he didn’t help pick out a damn thing.
He’d checked out by then, meaning I had a whole house to fill with no urge to do it alone.
My life with him was supposed to be very different, yet here I am…
alone in this big house while Franklin lives the luxury life in California, dealing with his restaurant, going to fundraisers, doing interviews, and ignoring the fact he has a husband back in Chicago who thinks about him non-stop, wondering what he did wrong and how he can fix it.
Franklin always complains that I’m too emotional, so I try to keep that part of me in check when it comes to him.
But he’s my husband… if there ever is someone to be emotional with, shouldn’t it be him?
I take a long shower, wash off the day, change into sweats, and crawl into bed.
I toss and turn for an hour before I pick up my phone and search Franklin’s name on the web browser.
I do this from time to time. It’s the only way I know what’s going on in his life since he only answers my calls ten percent of the time.
There’s an article that was just posted yesterday, so I click the link.
Successful Entrepreneur Franklin DeMassi to Open Luxury New York City Restaurant Sooner Than Expected.
I browse the article that states the new restaurant, 72, will open within the next month.
Why didn’t he tell me?
I’m aware he’s opening another restaurant, but as far as I know, it’s nowhere near finished. And an opening is a big thing. There is media and photos and a lot of shaking hands—it’s the exact place I should be. By his side during this exciting time.
Yet, I’m finding out like everyone else.
My stomach drops as it hits me. I know what he’s doing.
It’s what he always does, and I shouldn’t be surprised.
I really fucking shouldn’t, but I can’t help it.
I have way too much hope in my heart that things with Franklin and I can be fixed; that our life will turn into what we swore to each other it would be in the beginning.
Too much of me wants that perfect life with him, the one I was promised.
I can’t let go of it, even though I’m smart enough to know I need to.
We’ve been married for fourteen years. You’d think by now I’d want nothing to do with his games, yet… I still play along. I still stick around. I keep going back, like a sad puppy hoping for a bit of attention.
Fourteen years feels like a long time to be married to someone, and it is…
but we’ve hardly been together for most of them.
The first few months together were great.
I’d met him after my first rough night on the job.
Everything about him screamed calm. It was exactly what I craved.
We hit it off immediately and got married quickly.
He was still early on in his career but certain about where he was heading.
The age difference didn’t bother either of us.
He said I was mature beyond my years. That’s when I told him what happened to me.
Our relationship quickly turned rocky, then messy, then into a mix of awful and good.
During that time, there was a lot of make-up sex, and it was the only thing keeping me sane.
We split for a bit, got back together with new promises.
Split again. Stayed together, but it was bad.
Finally, I decided we needed time apart, so nine years ago, I moved here when I found the job at 99.
The choice wasn’t difficult since it’s where Nash, my oldest brother, lives and has since the day Hollis turned eighteen and went off on his own.
Me leaving seemed to put a fire under Franklin’s ass, and he quickly changed his tone, promising me everything I ever wanted.
He came to visit. We talked about our future family.
We made plans, bought the house, and talked about adoption.
But it didn’t take long for things to go right back to how they were—how they still are, only we don’t fight anymore.
There’s no more screaming, no more arguments. It’s just silence. Indifference. Pain.
I didn’t want to leave Hollis alone in California when I left, but staying did nothing to help him or me.
I hardly saw him since he was in and out of treatment centers.
The few times he was clean, it was nice to see him, but it wasn’t worth being miserable for.
He’s an adult and needs to function on his own.
Nash and I help him out as much as we can.
I’d give him the shirt off my back, but I need boundaries too.
I can’t let his issues bring me down. Not the way I let Franklin bring me down…
for whatever reason that is. If anyone deserves to treat me like shit, it’s my baby brother. Yet Franklin gets that honor.
I should get divorced. I know that. Franklin knows that.
But I also know I can’t handle another fucking failure.
It’s all I see, day in and day out when I can’t save people.
Hoping that I can fix my marriage is one thing that keeps me going.
It’s the one stable thing in my life. I know what to expect from Franklin, as much of an asshole as he is.
It may hurt, but it’s familiar. That’s comforting for me.
It’s easier than being set free into this world with nothing to fall back on.
Maybe that makes me a coward. I’m fine with that.
The red digit on the clock on my nightstand switches, bringing me another minute closer to tomorrow. I should sleep. I need to sleep. It’s back to work in the morning, this time for my normal 24-hour shift. I’m going to be exhausted if I don’t sleep tonight.
My phone rings, and I frown, wondering who the hell could be calling me at this time of night. Hope flutters in my chest at the thought of it being Franklin. We’re in different time zones, him behind me, so maybe he’s awake and wants to tell me about the new restaurant.
But it’s not Franklin.
It’s my brother.
“Hey, Nash,” I answer, rubbing my hand over my forehead and rolling onto my back. “What’s up?”
“My ears were burning. You know what that means.”
I roll my eyes. “You and your weird superstitions,” I grumble.
“You okay?” he asks.
Nash is convinced that when his ears burn, there’s something wrong with me—like a burning sensation points to me because I put out fires. I think he’s fucking losing his mind.
Nash is the only person I know who’s seen more death than me.
Working as an undercover cop out here, he sees some crazy shit.
Together, we see the worst of the worst. I don’t know why we do it, put ourselves through this shit after everything we dealt with growing up, but…
maybe he feels the same way I do. Like he deserves the pain because of what we did…
or didn’t do, I guess. But Nash paid his penance.
He took on me and Hollis when he turned eighteen with not a clue on how to handle us or how fucked up we were.
We were just three boys trying to figure out how to survive in this cruel world.
“Fine. Just a long day. Nothing new.”
“I heard about that fire on Granite.”
I huff a humorless laugh. “Trust me, that wasn’t even the worst part of my day.”
“You talked to the Senator lately?”
“Don’t call him that,” I say, feeling more defensive of Franklin than he deserves.
“Well, the man always has something to promise but can never deliver.”
“I can’t wait for you to get married so I can point out all the flaws in your partner.”
“Well, that’s where you’re fucked—never getting married, so I guess I’ll have to make up for both of us.”
“Did you only call to insult my husband?” I ask.
I don’t know why I defend Franklin to my brother. Of all the people in this world, Nash is the one I can be honest with. Yet, just like I do with everyone else, I pretend I’m fine and marriage is great.
“You know why I called.”
“I need to get to sleep. I have work tomorrow.”
“What are you doing this weekend?” he asks.
“You’re not working?”
“Nah, I took a few days off. Rough case.”
I nod to myself, looking up at the ceiling.
Must be bad if he’s taking time off, something he rarely does on the off chance he can.
Going undercover means he goes dark. Sometimes I don’t hear from him for months, unsure if he’s even alive.
One time, I ran into him while I was putting out a fire.
Thankfully, I knew better than to talk to him and blow his cover.
I should invite him over this weekend. It would be the nice thing to do.
We don’t spend much time together. But my brother carries as much weight as I do, and I feel it too much when we’re together.
It’s easier to stay away from all the things that remind me of then, even if that means keeping up a wall between me and my family.
“I’ll see how I’m feeling. I worked a lot this week, too. I’ll call you.”
“That’s a no,” he grumbles. “Good night, JJ. Call me if you need anything.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I say before ending the call.
I turn to put my phone down, but before I do, I pull up Franklin’s number and press dial.
“Hello, Jericho,” he answers, his tone cold and distant.
“How was your day?” I ask, trying to sound bright. It comes out as more of a surprised tone, because I hadn’t expected him to answer.
He sighs, and I can picture him pinching the bridge of his nose the way he does when he’s tired and annoyed. “Long. Busy. Did you need something?”
“Just calling to talk to my husband. We haven’t spoken since last week.”
“Has it been that long?”
“Yeah, Franklin, it has.”
“Things have been hectic here.”
“Because of the restaurant?”
“Of course.”
“Why didn’t you tell me the new one was opening?”
“I did tell you.”
He always does this…
“No, you didn’t.”
He sighs again, but this time it’s more annoyed than anything else. “I don’t have time to argue with you, Jericho. Do you need something?” he repeats.
Emotion crawls into my throat, settling there and making it difficult to breathe.
I clear it, but it doesn’t help.
“No, sorry for bothering you.”
“As you always are.”
The call ends, and I stare at my phone, wondering what the fuck I did to deserve this.