Chapter Twenty-Six
Dixon
As I charge into the burning building with my crew at my side, my respirator hissing like a viper, the words of Captain Reynolds — a grizzled, fifteen-year veteran — hammer inside my skull: fuck up one more time and I don’t care who you’re connected to or what your service record is, you’re off the crew. It becomes my mantra as we battle a blaze inside a five-story apartment building and race to evacuate every trapped resident before the smoke and the flames can snuff out their lives. Don’t fuck up.
In that hellhole, every time I see Lucas Reyes beckon me into the inferno, I shake it off.
Things are different now. I have a reason to live named Alexandra and a purpose: finding the truth about that fateful day my life went to hell.
It keeps me focused.
The building groans around us. We go deeper.
”Over here!” Reynolds calls out through the roar of the flames. His voice is strained but clear over the crackle and pop of burning wood and melting plastic. We pivot and hustle toward the sound. An old man sits huddled in a corner of his apartment, coughing violently, his dog — a small rat terrier — barking frantically at his feet.
I lunge forward with two other members of the crew, Lisa Alder and Danny McGraw, at my side. The old man”s eyes are wide with terror and gratitude as we reach him. The ceiling above us blisters and embers spit down upon like a hellish rain.
“Lisa, get him out of here,” Reynolds barks. “That clears this floor. Green, McGraw, we’re going up. The caller said there were two families upstairs.”
Lisa nods sharply, and with the man’s arm over her shoulder, guides him through the thick smoke towards the stairwell. We follow Reynolds up the crumbling staircase, each step groaning under our weight.
The heat intensifies as we climb, and my breaths grow shallow within the confines of my respirator. Beads of sweat roll down my temples, but I push forward.
As we reach the next floor, a sudden explosion of heat and noise erupts from an apartment ahead. I duck instinctively, the radiating heat blasts my back. My ears ring, but Reynolds’ hand on my shoulder steadies me.
”Stay sharp, Dixon!” he yells, pulling me up. “I can hear them up ahead. There’s a child up there. We have to get to them.”
There’s a dark voice in my head that tells me this could be the moment I’ve always sought after — the chance to go out doing something right, to die with a measure of respect after all the evil shit I’ve done. I see Lucas’s face once more, skull split open, blood oozing, and I feel the irresistible urge.
Then Alexandra pulls me back again.
We split up to cover more ground. Reynolds heads left towards a woman’s wailing cry while I move right with McGraw, kicking down doors and scanning rooms rapidly, hunting for any sign of life.
In the third apartment we enter, we find them — a young couple clutching their infant tightly, surrounded by a fortress of damp towels they”ve used in a desperate attempt to keep the smoke at bay.
”Hang on. We”re getting you out,” I shout over the din. McGraw wraps the baby in his jacket while I usher the parents to their feet. As we guide them out of their makeshift sanctuary, part of the ceiling collapses behind us, turning the room behind us into a death trap. On the way down, I spy Reynolds carrying an old woman with a cane.
“It’s all clear,” he shouts. “That’s the last of them.”
The flames and groaning building provide a chorus as we fight down to the exit, bodies in tow, the weight of their lives heavy on our shoulders. Through the haze ahead, the glow of blooming daylight outlines the exit. My muscles ache, my lungs scream within the confines of the mask, but I push on as I see Lisa in the entryway, watching for us.
”We”ve got more coming,” she yells to the EMS team stationed outside.
I can almost taste the fresh air when a thunderous crash echoes behind us — the building gives way to the inferno’s might.
”Move, move, move!” Reynolds shouts.
We burst into daylight like shipwreck survivors reaching shore. Emergency lights flash through the smoke; paramedics rush to meet us. The families we’ve rescued collapse into arms that pull them gently away from danger’s reach.
McGraw places the swaddled infant into a waiting ambulance as medical personnel swarm around to provide oxygen and first aid. I stand there a moment longer, watching the building crumble before an arm wraps around me.
“You did better this time, Green,” Reynolds says. “A few dozen more times like this one and maybe I won’t feel like I have to always be watching your ass.”
“We all know you’ll still be watching that ass of his, Captain. How many times have you wondered out loud about how much he can squat?” McGraw adds, chuckling.
“It’s a legitimate fucking question. And it’s workout related, not anything sick like that.”
“I swear, your mouth was hanging open, panting, when you asked me.”
I keep my mouth shut. Not that I want to let McGraw or Captain Reynolds get away with being fucking assholes, except they’re not — they’re right; I take care of myself and I’ve got a decent squat game. It pays off in having an ass that Alexandra appreciates. And, besides my glutes, I’ve put this crew through a fair amount of shit, and it will be a long fucking time before things are right between us. I’m silent on the ride back to the firehouse, not only lost in my thoughts, but doing my damnedest to keep from opening my mouth and starting a fight every time McGraw or Reynolds even look at me sideways.
“What in the hell is this?” Reynolds says as the fire truck pulls into the lot.
The parking lot around the firehouse is packed, full to the brim with folding tables, chairs, coolers, my brothers from the Steel Reapers, and, at the center of it all and looking fine as hell in her bartending outfit, is Alexandra.
Lisa nudges me. “Green, do you know what the hell is going on here?”
“They’re blocking the fucking garage,” Reynolds says. “Dixon, get your fucking block party bikers out of the damn way. We’ve got another firetruck behind us and an ambulance, too. They can’t be blocking the damn thing.”
“I’ll find out,” I say, sliding out of my seat and crossing the lot toward Alexandra, who has her arms spread wide and a big grin on her face that I can’t help but echo at the unexpected sight of her. “What in the hell are you doing here?”
Before she answers, she shoves a red solo cup into my hands.
“Saving your ass. I stalked your captain on Facebook and figured out what his favorite drink is. Now, go take that to him and tell him and the rest of your crew that Moose will be serving barbecue ribs, roasted potatoes, stewed collard greens, and charred corn for everyone on your fire crew, along with the rest of the whole damn department and any of their family or friends who want to come down here, too.”
“Why are you doing this?”
She cocks her head to the side.
“Really, Dixon? With everything you’ve done to help me, with everything we’ve done together, you have to ask that question? Let me put it this way, Dixon Green: I thought a lot about you, about the way you make me feel, about the things you’ve done for me, and about us… And I realized that simply saying ‘I care for you’ is a fucking understatement. It goes deeper than that. I’m not going to put a label on what we have, because the word it leads me to is big and scary, but you’re more than just a phenomenal fuck who gives me really great orgasms. You stir up some serious emotions inside me in a way that I never thought I’d feel after all I’ve been through. When all this is over, I want to see where things go with you. Make of that what you will, but don’t stand around trying to figure it out — get that drink to your captain before the ice melts and dilutes the damn thing.”
I should hurry back to the captain, but I don’t. Because there’s something more important to do first — I lean in and kiss Alexandra so deep that someone in the fire truck blares the horn at us. But I don’t give a damn. She’s put into words the same feelings that have been bouncing around inside my chest. Now that they’re out there, there’s no taking them back. It’s only a matter of time before those damn feelings turn into three little words that can’t be unsaid.
Our kiss lingers until a fierce hunger stirs inside me and my pulse races like I’m in the middle of combat. I look into her eyes, see the depth of affection within them, and realize I’m through with being a coward.
I’m going in.
“I love you, too, princess.”