Chapter 8 #3
I was glad for a couple days off, but when I came back on shift today, it was like her attitude toward me had gotten worse, which I didn’t think was possible.
And her blatant flirting in the firehouse with Dean has been sickening.
When Dean and I were in a relationship, we kept our public displays of affection out of work.
Just the occasional kiss or Dean would put his arm around me on really tough days, but other than that, we were just coworkers.
I’m not the only one becoming uncomfortable with this constant public display. I heard Rosco tell them to knock it off earlier, and that’s unusual for him to say something.
Walking into the locker room to grab my iPad from my bag, I hear footsteps behind me, which isn’t abnormal. We’re all in and out of our lockers during the day, getting things to occupy ourselves after we’ve done all the equipment maintenance, especially if it’s a slow day for call-outs.
Reaching in, I grab the iPad, and as I close my locker, turning to walk back out to the rec room, I almost walk straight into Dean.
“Hey, Pops.” His use of the nickname he used to call me when we were together makes my whole body shudder with a feeling of disgust. I hated the name back then but never said anything because I had on those rose-colored glasses you get when you think you’re in love.
But the sound of that name slipping off his lips now actually makes me feel sick.
“Poppy,” I grunt.
“Oh, come on, Pops, don’t be like that. You used to love it when I was screaming that name while I was fucking you in our bed.” He leers at me, and I recognize the lust in his eyes.
I hold my hand in the air in front of him to signal stop.
“Don’t you ever speak to me like that again.
You gave up that right a long time ago. Remember when you were more interested in a younger, tighter pussy and told me I just wasn’t doing it for you anymore?
So, if I ever hear words like that out of your mouth to me again, or you speak about me in that way in this firehouse to anyone, I will report you for sexual harassment.
” Taking a step around him, standing tall, I try to give the impression of confidence and that I’m deadly serious.
He reaches out and grabs my arm, leaning his body in close to mine, and whispers into my ears, “Where was this sexy feistiness when we were dating, Pops? If you’d shown me this side of you then, I might not have gone looking elsewhere.”
I can’t stop myself. On reflex, I slap him across the face as hard as I can. He stumbles back a little and drops my arm.
“What the fuck,” he whines as his hand moves to his red cheek.
“Feisty enough for you, asshole?” I hiss at him.
“Dean, shit,” Kyra shrieks from the doorway, rushing toward him. I don’t know how long she was there or how much she heard.
Pushing past her, I leave him there looking at me with a stupid smirk on his face which just infuriates me more.
“He doesn’t deserve your sympathy,” I mutter at Kyra as she starts fussing over him, which has her turning on me.
“Jealousy looks ugly on you. He’s mine now, so just back off and stop trying to flirt with him.
Why would he want your old pussy when he can have this?
” She stands in front of Dean and runs her hand up and down her body like she’s showing off a prize in a game show.
But all I see are her fake perky tits, Botox in her lips, and very little muscle on her body, which is the total opposite to me, all natural from head to toe.
Her words enrage me further, and I take three steps back toward her so I’m right up in her face.
“Oh, you naive little thing. You are so far from the truth. I. Don’t. Want. Him. Not now. Not ever. I deserve better.” I point my finger and push it into her chest, accentuating every word so she gets the message.
I don’t wait for either of their responses, as I can hear voices getting closer. Stepping back from Kyra, I turn and walk out of the locker room as Adams and Russ come in arguing about some basketball game from last season.
They both look at me weirdly as I storm past them, but they’re smart enough to just let me go and not ask any questions.
Instead of going to the rec room where everyone else is, I walk outside to the grill at the back of the station.
Sitting down on the metal bench, my heart is racing, and I try to take a few deep breaths to slow it down.
I’m only on my own for a few minutes, just long enough to calm down, when Rosco walks outside. Taking a seat beside me, he doesn’t say anything initially, just gives me a little longer to collect myself.
“May I?” he asks, holding his hand out for my iPad, signaling he wants it for some reason.
Confused, I punch in my passcode and hand it over anyway.
He opens Google and pulls up the recruitment page for the Rochester-area firehouses. Clicking on something, he hands it back to me.
“You are one of my best firefighters in this house. And your lieutenant qualification that you worked so hard to get last year is wasted while you sit back and wait for me to retire.” He points to the iPad screen.
“I’ve known this position was coming up and haven’t said anything before now because I don’t want to lose you.
” He places his arm around my shoulders as I look down at a lieutenant’s position over at Station 135 that has just opened for applications.
“I spoke to Captain Halpin yesterday. We go way back, and he’s a good guy.
He’s very excited for you to apply on the recommendation I gave him.
” Lowering his head closer to mine, he adds, “Because nobody deserves to be treated like he treats you. And even if I get rid of Kyra, we both know there will always be another just like her.” I lay my head on his shoulder because he has always been a kind of father figure to me ever since I arrived in Rochester.
He was the first boss I didn’t have to prove myself to, just because I’m a woman.
He simply treated me like any other firefighter.
“I’m not telling you to apply for it or pushing you out in any way.
Like I said, I want you here, but I want to see you happy and thriving.
And I think you would do that at Station 135 under Captain Halpin.
Just think about it, and know that no matter what, I have your back here.
” He squeezes my shoulder with his big, rough-skinned hand, giving me comfort and letting me know that I’m not alone.
He then stands and starts to walk back inside.
“Rosco,” I call to him.
He looks back over his shoulder at me.
“Thanks.” There’s a mix of emotions racing through me from everything that has happened in the last thirty minutes, and I try to hold back the tears that are threating to escape.
He just gives me that dad smile he has, the one I see him get every time his kids turn up to visit him at work. He nods at me and then is gone.
Reading over the job, it actually sounds perfect.
Far enough away from this firehouse that I wouldn’t have to work on joint calls with these crews.
But I wouldn’t need to move houses. Life could be the same, but I would get the shot at my dream: Running my own crew.
Making my mom and heavenly dad proud that I achieved the same rank as Dad did before he died.
Before I second-guess myself, I start filling in the application, and I press submit just as the bells go off and we’re called to a job.
Jumping out of the truck as we pull up at the scene, I focus on Rosco’s voice and what role I’m being assigned. The fire is a single-level factory fire, so no need for the ladder just yet.
“We have multiple people trapped in the back corner of the building. Ladder crew, you’re on search-and-rescue.
Russ and Bert, Whits and Adams, Volk you’re with me.
” I try not to laugh on the inside that he has swapped and put Dean with him so I don’t have to worry today.
“Engine crew, get those water lines in there and be ready to knock that fire down so ladder crew can get to where the people are stuck.”
Everyone starts moving with speed and purpose into the building. It’s a flurry of activity in poor visibility. Internal walls are starting to crumble, and the fire is creeping into the roof cavity, which means we’re on borrowed time.
Thankfully we get to the cool room at the back corner where there are four workers bunkered down because they were trapped.
The fire was between them and the escape doors.
As the crew starts pulling them out one by one and heading out of the building to safety, Rosco gives the order to the truck crew to start hitting the fire hard with water.
Everyone has a patient except Dean and me.
There’s just one small room to the side that we need to check is empty before we can pull out too.
“I’ll go left, you go right,” I yell into my radio, knowing Dean is right behind me.
“All clear,” he calls from his side, and I reply the same.
We start making our way to the door. He’s out and clear of the room when there’s a loud crack above me.
It comes from just outside the doorway. It’s the last thing I remember hearing, but the vision in front of me is clear as anything and imprints in my memory just before the wooden beam strikes me.
Falling to the ground, I watch Dean’s back disappear into the dense smoke about ten steps in front of me, and then I see a devilish look of satisfaction in Kyra’s eyes. She raises her Halligan bar above her head and pulls down the burning roof beams that run across the room, directly above me.
And then the world goes black.