Chapter 29
STELLAN
This shift’s been slow; sunlight seeps through the tall bay doors and spreads across the concrete floor.
I sit at the kitchen table with a mug in my hand and pretend I’m paying attention to the conversation happening around me.
Jake and Hayes are leaning over the counter arguing about whose turn it is to restock the medic bags.
Thorne is digging through the fridge looking for something that probably disappeared three shifts ago.
The television murmurs in the corner while the news anchor talks about traffic.
None of it sticks.
My mind keeps drifting back to Hartley.
The memory of last night sits in the front of my mind and won’t go away. The way his shoulders finally loosened when I pulled him close. The quiet sounds he made when he forgot to hold them back. The way he curled into my side afterward like that space belonged to him.
I take another drink of coffee and stare into the mug.
People do long distance relationships all the time.
Rockford isn’t even two hours away.
The thought sits there for a second before the next one pushes it aside.
Seeing him every day is different. Walking into his apartment and hearing Alaska running to the door, sitting at the small kitchen table with them like a little family, and feeling him around me every night has become something I didn’t expect to need.
The memory makes my shoulders relax, but then the other thought creeps in.
He thinks I’m leaving.
I rub a hand across the back of my neck.
Across the room Hayes watches me over the rim of his coffee cup. “You look like you’re solving a math problem in your head.”
Jake glances up from the counter. “Or like someone got laid.”
Thorne laughs from the fridge.
I shake my head and stand up to rinse my mug.
“You guys have the emotional range of middle schoolers.”
Jake grins. “That isn’t a denial.”
Rhys walks through the kitchen and pauses just long enough to take in the scene.
“Whatever you idiots are talking about, better not follow you onto my rig,” he says.
Jake points toward me. “He’s smiling at the wall.”
Rhys looks at me once, then nods toward the apparatus bay. “Take it outside before I make you run drills.”
I grab a towel and head for the bay.
The trucks sit lined up exactly where they always do, red paint catching the sun pouring through the open doors. Ladder 99 stretches nearly the length of the bay with Dark already leaning against the side rail drinking coffee.
Phoenix stands near the rear compartment checking tools. AJ and Hank are pulling gear out of the storage bin while Wes climbs into the tiller seat to run through his controls.
Routine of a normal shift.
My brain still drifts back to Hartley anyway. The way his expression changed when I mentioned houses. The careful tone he used when he tried to pretend it didn’t bother him.
Phoenix shuts a compartment door and glances over. “You planning to stand there thinking all morning,” he asks, “or are you going to help check the saws?”
“Working on it.”
“You good?”
“Yeah.” I grab the saw and start running through the inspection. Gas level, chain tension, safety trigger.
Feeling Hartley around me last night was addictive.
I still can’t decide what I like more. The way he responds when I bury myself in him, or the way he looks when he fucks me. Both leave me in the same place afterward; calm and steady.
AJ walks past carrying a hose bundle.
“You’re smiling again,” he says.
“I am not.”
“You definitely are.”
Hank snorts. “Man looks like he found religion.”
I shake my head and set the saw back into its mount.
“You guys need hobbies.”
The tones drop before anyone answers. Every sound in the station cuts off instantly. The alert echoes through the bay followed by dispatch.
“Engine Ninety-Nine, Ladder Ninety-Nine, Rescue Ninety-Nine, Battalion response. Structure fire reported. Multiple callers reporting flames through the roof.”
Conversation disappears as boots hit the floor and gear comes off racks. I pull my turnout coat on and clip my helmet strap while Phoenix swings into position beside me.
Jake and Hayes are already sprinting toward the medic unit.
Engine 99 rolls first with Captain Rhys riding shotgun and Thorne climbing in behind him.
Dark slaps the side rail. “Let’s go.”
The engine roars to life and the bay doors roll open as sirens rip through the morning air. Traffic parts while we push through the intersection, and smoke becomes visible two blocks away. Thick black columns that push into the sky above the rooftops.
Dispatch updates the call. “Additional companies responding. Mutual Aid requested.”
Mutual aid means this one is already spreading.
Dark swings the tiller smoothly as we turn the corner.
The house is fully engulfed, along with the homes on either side. Flames punch through second floor windows across all three buildings, orange light rolling through the smoke in violent bursts. Heat pushes across the street in waves strong enough to sting the skin on my face.
Engine 99 is already stretching multiple hose lines across the yard. Thorne disappears behind the engine pulling a hose while Captain Rhys shouts assignments into the radio, his voice sharp over the noise of the fire.
“Protect the exposure on the Bravo side. Get water on that second house now.”
Rescue 99 slides in behind us, and the doors fly open before the rig even settles. JJ jumps down first with JC, Denver and Gage right behind him, all of them moving fast toward the neighboring house where flames are starting to climb the siding.
Captain Dark scans the roofs once, quick and focused.
“Truck work,” he says, pointing toward the center structure. “Phoenix, Stellan, AJ. With me.”
The ladder swings into position and locks with a heavy metallic snap.
Phoenix grabs the saw, and I start climbing.
Smoke pours from the attic vents before we even reach the top of the ladder. The heat builds with every step upward, pushing against my turnout gear like a living thing trying to shove us back down.
By the time we step onto the roof, the shingles feel soft under my boots.
Phoenix positions the saw and yanks the cord.
The blade screams to life and bites into the roof while I brace beside him, and AJ clears space around the cut. Below us, hose streams hammer the front of the house while another line opens up on the exposure next door.
The first section opens, and smoke erupts upward through the cut like a released pressure valve.
Then the roof shifts.
Just enough that I feel it through my boots.
Phoenix grabs my jacket. “Stellan!”
The structure groans beneath us.
And the roof drops another inch.