Chapter 18 Warren
EIGHTEEN
WARREN
“You’ve obviously attended hundreds, if not thousands, of calls in your career. Are there any you still think about to this day?”
I resist the urge to clutch the sides of the leather chair at Doctor Brunswick’s—or Kevin’s, as he prefers me to call him—question.
“You’re right. There are hundreds. Too many to count.” I’m avoiding answering, and, rather than poke me, he waits. And waits. And waits. Until the unnerving silence and his resigned stare force me to speak.
He’s good, I’ll give him that.
“It was six weeks into my probation. The call was to a property where two kids were trapped in a house. The entire first floor was burning, and it was slowly spreading to the second. The big sister made the call. She was only six and left in charge of her two-year-old brother.” I shake my head slowly, anger flaring at the memory.
“The parents were out on a bender. Apparently, it wasn’t the first time, and it took them three days to show their sorry faces and realize their house burned down.
It was no surprise when they lost custody of their kids. ”
This call is one few first responders ever forget, and discussing it reignites old rage. It burns differently with the knowledge I’m going to be a father, a detail I should probably share. Just not today, especially as the news is still so fresh.
“What happened to the children?” Kevin asks.
“They survived. Both came away with third-degree burns and scars they’ll live with for the rest of their lives, reminding them how little their piece of shit parents cared about them.” I wince. “Sorry for the profanity.”
The corner of his mouth lifts. “Cursing isn’t banned.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I’ve worked a lot of fatalities, but the memory of their terrified faces screaming for help through the window is an image I’ll never forget.
They put their trust in people who didn’t deserve it.
The girl was in the hospital recovering for two months.
Me and some of my crewmates visited her when we could. Took her candy and toys.”
“Do you know what happened to them once they recovered?”
I nod. “Ended up in the foster system for a couple of years until a nice family adopted them in Brentwood. Clarissa, the girl, graduated from nursing school a few years ago, and her brother, Layton, got a full ride playing baseball in Washington.”
Kevin’s smile is genuine as he taps his pen on his yellow legal pad. “You keep in touch with them?”
“Their parents.” I shrug. “Things could’ve gone a lot worse for them. It’s nice knowing life re-dealt them a good hand.”
“Because of you and your crew. They must be very grateful to you all.”
My eyes narrow. “No. We were doing our job. I don’t need praise and thanks. That’s not why I do it.”
“Then why do you do it?”
I hadn’t realized how relaxed I was until now. My spine snaps straight, muscles tensing, jaw grinding. “Once upon a time, I knew why. Now, I’m not so sure.”