Chapter 13
I’ve wasted half my life telling people how to pronounce my name.
— Brecken to Shasha
brECKEN
I hated teacher work conferences.
I hated even more that continuing education was mandatory for a job that I already worked a whole lot of overtime for.
Yet, there I was, at a teacher conference with ten other teachers from my school and was getting separated from them into ‘houses.’
See, to make it “fun” the organizers of this conference had a great idea.
That ‘great idea’ was separating us ALL up and putting us into Harry Potter houses. Or, maybe not actual Harry Potter houses—I was loath to admit this, but I’d never read Harry Potter once—but houses that were loosely based on Harry Potter houses.
Protos, Altruismo, Reveur, Amistad, Isbindi.
The only reason I knew the names at this point—even though they were said about eight thousand times by the organizers—was because I had a pamphlet in front of me explaining what was about to happen.
“I don’t understand why this is something that we’re supposed to find entertaining. Just teach the lecture already,” my seatmate, who also happened to be in the Amistad house with me, said.
That was something I could agree on wholeheartedly.
I knew that the organizers were trying to make this fun, but seriously.
Just let us sit in our chairs with the teachers we know and get on with the day.
“Do you think that this is going to go into lunch?” the same teacher asked.
“God, I hope not,” I grumbled. “I’m starving.”
“Same,” she sighed.
“All right, teachers!” the organizer bellowed through the microphone, making all of us flinch with the intensity. “Let’s hear you chant!”
The chant was pitiful at best, and the organizer narrowed her eyes, ready to double down and ask for us to try it again.
But luckily, there was one good thing in the world.
And that, my friends, was the fire alarm.
I’d never been more excited to hear it go off in my life.
Usually when this happened, it happened at school, and I had to deal with getting the kids out—though, in the five years that I’d been at the high school, it’d gotten a hell of a lot easier to get my students out since they were almost all functioning adults.
Regardless, though, it was hectic getting them out because I was worried about them all.
Now, all I was worried about was myself.
I hurried out of the row, thankful to A, be at the back of the auditorium, and B, be at the end of the row.
The woman who’d been bitching with me followed suit, and the two of us walked out into the foyer.
Teachers filed out behind us, and my gaze settled on the small restaurant across the street.
Eggs Bitch.
That was, in fact, the name.
Eggs Bitch.
I’d seen it and nearly laughed my ass off at the name, and knew that before this was all over, I’d be going to check it out.
I looked at my watch and wondered how much time I had.
“There’s gonna be at least thirty minutes to wait,” the woman at my side said. “I…”
She trailed off, and I looked at her.
She had her eyes trained on a man across the room, his arms crossed across his chest, and his gaze focused on her.
“What did you do?” she asked, though I knew it was directed at the man across the room.
The guy was jacked.
He was wearing jeans, boots, and a navy-blue fire department sweatshirt, though the font was too small for me to see the name of the fire department.
Since he was in the direction of the door, I headed toward him along with the woman.
“Why do you look like you just did something bad, hubby?” she asked.
I looked at her, then at her husband, and realized that they definitely fit together well.
“What makes you think I did anything, angel?” He grinned.
“Because you have that ‘I’m guilty’ look you have when you’ve done something you don’t want me to find out about. I’ve been married to you for twenty years, bruh. This ain’t my first rodeo.” She snickered.
“You know they have a fire alarm in a closet here?” he questioned. “Why would someone put that in a closet?”
My eyes focused on him, and I nearly laughed.
The man had pulled the fire alarm.
“And what the hell was up with those houses? They were supposed to let you out ten minutes ago for lunch. I was so bored,” he continued.
“You did not.” The woman gasped.
The man, older with a little silver at his temples, shrugged.
“Tiago Spada, you’re a freakin’ firefighter!” she gasped, clearly outraged.
I looked at the man and felt my lips splitting into a grin.
“It was lunchtime, Addy.” He chuckled.
I loved it.
I loved everything about the two of them together.
They were a perfect couple, and I loved how open and honest they were.
A giggle escaped my mouth, and his eyes went from his wife to me.
“I see you made a friend,” he surmised. “You out here thinking you weren’t going to meet a soul because your precious sister didn’t need the hours, and you did, so you were forced to come alone.”
“I…” She looked at me then. “What’s your name?”
“Brecken.” I answered. “I will tell you my last name as long as you never put my first and last name together, please.”
The man’s brows rose. “Why do I have a feeling you have a crazy name?”
I sighed. “Brecken. Brecken Sweat.”
There was a pause as both absorbed the shock of my name and then the man, Tiago, said, “That’s an unfortunate name. I have a buddy named Sue.”
I blinked. “What?”
“Really,” he confirmed.
Before anything else could be said, a firefighter came out and said, “Everyone needs to get out of the foyer! This is a fire alarm, folks!”
Whoops.
“Take the two-hour break, teachers!” I heard called. “It’s lunchtime anyway!”
Thankful for the break, I smiled at my new friend and said, “I am dying to go try that place out right there. I’ll see you in two hours!”
The man’s face went funny as he said, “Have fun.”
I slipped out of the foyer of the hotel we were staying in, then jaywalked across the street to the place called Eggs Bitch.
When I got inside, there was not a single soul either behind the counter or in a seat.
I frowned and looked around, my gaze settling on the menu by the cash register.
I picked it up and scanned the menu, loving all the names of the sandwiches.
I finally settled on a french toast “Sammie” and found the bell at the counter and tapped it.
There was a sound from the back and then a scuffle.
I frowned and looked toward where I heard the sound.
I waited for a good while before I started to let my imagination get away from me.
What if something was wrong?
What if there was a person hurt back there, and that was why they weren’t answering?
I knew that I should probably stay right where I was, but I couldn’t help it.
I skirted around the counter and allowed my eyes to dart around.
I was in an industrial kitchen.
I…
“Where is he?” I heard a man seethe.
Words that were said between clenched teeth.
And whomever had said it was mad.
Like mad , mad.
A choking sound, somewhat like someone trying to talk, and being unable to.
I moved more cautiously toward the sound now and came to a sudden, abrupt halt when I got to what looked like an office.
In that office were two men.
One of those men had his back to me.
The other man had a hand wrapped around his throat, was dangling a foot off the ground, and was looking a little purple.
“Now, I’ll give you one last chance to tell me…where is Cayden?”
That voice.
It was…
I gasped, the voice finally hitting its mark.
The man doing the strangling turned, and a pair of angry, navy-blue eyes met mine.
They were also spitting fire.