Chapter 10 #2
She leaves me at the table with a big hug and a promise to send pictures from the city. I quickly text Hugh, then go downstairs to greet him in the lobby when he and James arrive a few minutes later.
Hugh’s moving slowly—the effects of the fire coupled with the flu he’s not quite over, no doubt—but James greets me with a smile and a one-armed hug.
“Front row of the visitors’ lot, not a scratch on her,” he says, handing over the keys to my truck. “How’s our boy?”
“A little more than scratched.” I stick the keys in my pocket. “Ames won’t be pulling line anytime soon, but he should make a full recovery.”
“Thank fuck.” Hugh coughs into his elbow. “You seen Greene?”
“No.” My chest goes hot. “Probably for the best.”
He studies my face. “Kid feels really bad about what happened.”
“As he fucking should.” The words come out in a growl. “He ignored direct orders again . If I’d suspended him last time, none of this would’ve happened.” I gesture vaguely upstairs, to Ames. “That’s on me.”
Hugh shakes his head. “Now, there’s some bullshit. You gave him a second chance, Rob. Greene fucked up, and he knows it.”
I stare at him for a long moment. “If you’re trying to convince me that two strikes aren’t enough to kick him off our crew?—”
Hugh shakes his head. “Not trying to convince you of anything, buddy. I know Greene’s not ready for this role. Pretty sure he sees the writing on the wall too. So take a breath, okay? Emotions are high right now. Understandably so. But I’m with you here. All of us are.”
James nods.
Tears burn behind my eyes. “Okay.”
My gaze moves around the lobby, where sunshine’s pouring in through the skylights, then down to my hands. One of them’s still covered in nicks and tiny burns from last night, but the ER doc assured me that leaving them open to the air would help them heal faster.
I take a deep breath. “I, uh… I was thinking after I check in on Ames, I’ll head to the station?—”
“No way.” James claps me on the shoulder. “Did you sleep at all last night?”
“No, but?—”
“If you’re thinking you need to coordinate with the state investigators,” Hugh says, “I already called ’em. They’re sending someone later today. And I’ll handle it.”
“But—”
“Don’t even think about trying to write up your incident report when half the people at the scene are still in bed and haven’t submitted theirs, Robbie. No point.” James shrugs.
That’s… fair. I nod. “With Ames and Greene out, we’ll need to adjust?—”
“I talked to Nat Rivera,” Hugh says. “She recognized the scheduling problem before I did last night and volunteered to have her crews help cover us for the next few weeks, like we did for the Mabel FD a couple years ago, remember?”
“Yeah. Shit.” I push a hand through my hair. “Well, then I guess I’ll?—”
“I swear to god,” Hugh interrupts, “if you go in for an equipment inventory, I’ll beat you. I’ll ask Metier to do it on his next shift. He’s got a good eye.”
“Is the goal here to show me I’m replaceable?” I demand, only kind of kidding.
“The goal is to show that we know you’ve got other, more important shit going on—” Hugh tilts his head toward the elevator, toward Ames. “—and we’re stepping up to help you while you help him .”
“Yeah, who’s taking care of Axford when he gets discharged?” James asks. “Collarbone injury’s a bitch. Broke mine on a skateboard back in college, and my mom had to move in with me. Pretty humbling when a man can’t scratch his own balls. Of course, I didn’t have a pretty boyfriend to help me.”
“Auden’s not physically strong enough to help Ames with anything,” I say without thinking. “And he probably doesn’t realize how Ames will bullshit about being fine when he’s not.”
“True story. It’s rare to meet a stubborner soul,” James agrees.
“I’ll take care of him. Ames needs me ,” I say, defying either of them to argue.
To my surprise, neither does.
“Figured you’d say that,” Hugh says instead, “after the way you carried Axford out of that building.”
“Yep.” James slaps my biceps. “Like something out of that old bodyguard movie?—”
Hugh starts laughing before I even get the joke. “Oh, shit. Dibs on telling Axford he’s Whitney Houston in this scenario.”
Despite everything, I roll my eyes. “You two done? ”
“Yep.” Hugh grins. “I’ll put in for two weeks’ vacation for ya.”
I hesitate for a fraction of a second because I really do suck at stepping back from my job. But for Ames?
“Yeah,” I say. “That’d be good.”
James’s smile spreads across his face slowly.
“What?” I demand. “It was pretty much your idea.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t think you’d do it. Only person stubborner than Axford is you when you get an idea stuck in your head. You guys are a matched pair that way.”
In other ways too.
My throat goes tight. “Thanks. Thank you. All of you. For having my back.”
“Don’t get weird and weepy, man, or you’ll make me weird and weepy.” Hugh sniffs. “You fucking know I’m a sympathetic crier. Jesus.”
I shake hands with each of them while Hugh grumbles and coughs about how the flu makes a man sentimental. Then I excuse myself and head for the stairs. I don’t wanna wait for the elevator, and I need the movement, the physical action.
I’m rounding the second-floor landing when my phone buzzes. Wondering if it’s something with Ames, I pull it out, but it’s a text from Mike.
Mike
Bro, I know you said no more money, but my car’s FUCKED. Mechanic wants $3k down before they’ll even schedule repairs. Without it, I can’t help Anna with the girls! If you can Venmo, that’s easiest.
I stare at the screen, there in the cold stairwell, for the longest time .
Three thousand fucking dollars? Is he kidding?
No, “Hey, how are you?” No, “Robbie, I heard about the fire. Everything okay?” even though I know that’s probably all anyone in town is talking about right now. There’s nothing about me here at all… except the part where he needs me to bail him out again.
I think of my fire crew having my back, stepping up to take weight off my shoulders. I think of Vivian, frantic with worry over Ames, asking me if I’m okay. I think of Anna taking her break to come check on me last night.
My hands shake as I punch the Call button.
“Rob!” Mike sounds relieved when he answers. “Did you get my text? I know it’s a lot, but Jesus, it’s highway robbery what these assholes charge?—”
“I’m okay, by the way,” I interrupt. “I mean, you didn’t ask, but just in case you wanted to know.”
“Uh. Okay. What do you?—?”
“There was a fire last night. A bad one. I had to pull my best friend out of a burning building.”
“Ames? Was he at the mill fire? Damn. I didn’t know.”
“Because you didn’t ask. Because you never ask. You went straight to asking for what you need.”
“Robbie, that’s not fair. I’m desperate here?—”
“You always are. But when was the last time you called me to talk? When was the last time you asked what was going on in my life?”
“I… I’ve been busy. Fucking Luc Tremblay fired me, and?—”
“And there’s always someone else to blame, isn’t there?
Jesus Christ, Mike, we’re all busy. We’re all tired.
We all have bad shit happen. But we make time for people we love.
Like me, making time to send you money for fucking years , bailing you out every time you got in a jam. You know why I did that?”
“Because you love me. Because you’re my brother?—”
“Because I kept hoping if I helped you enough, you’d become the brother I need. That you’d start to give a shit about me. But you never have. And I’m understanding, finally , that you never will.”
“Robbie, come on,” Mike pleads. “Don’t do this now, okay? You can be mad at me later, but right now, I really need?—”
“Don’t call me again, Mike. Don’t text me. I’m blocking your number. Until you’re ready to have a relationship that doesn’t involve me bailing you out, we’re done.”
I end the call and climb the rest of the stairs to the fifth floor. The door to Ames’s room is partially open, and I hear him talking—maybe muttering to himself and trying to get out of bed. I have one moment where I let myself imagine his eyes lighting up when he sees me like they did last night?—
But when I push the door open another inch, I see that Auden’s still here. He and Ames are listening to a comedy bit on Auden’s phone and chuckling together at whatever the comedian is saying.
My stomach, which has been in free fall since lunch, hits bottom. And I force myself to turn away and walk back down the stairs and out to my truck, alone.
What I thought before, with Lissa, was right. I’m not in the headspace for serious conversations, and the last person who deserves my emotional overwhelm is the sweet man in that hospital room already dealing with enough discomfort .
Just because I want to be Ames’s number one person right now doesn’t mean that’s what he wants.
And what Ames Axford wants is my priority, no matter how much it kills me to walk away.