Chapter 4
Steel
Wham!
“What the fuck?”
As Denver tumbled against the shower wall, I turned off the water for the showerhead, smirking as I shook my head. The assholes were snapping wet towels at each other like we used to do after a high school gym class. “How old are you?”
My shout was met with Denver throwing up his middle finger, the jumper wearing a wide grin. He wound the soaking wet material, the crack of his wrist louder than the sound the end of the towel made as it slapped across Raptor’s leg.
I walked around them in a wide arc, hopeful to miss their foray into an early onset midlife crisis.
Unfortunately, our spotter, Mr. Kevin Daniels himself decided I deserved to have my backside christened.
“Ouch!” I yelled, spinning around and rubbing my ass before pointing my finger toward his face. “You had better watch your back, buddy.”
Kevin backed away, offering a loopy look as he beckoned me with both hands.
I was eager and willing to take him on when my brother popped into the shower room and the shit-eating grin on his face indicated pure mischief.
His phone was in his hand and I had a sense he couldn’t wait to ruin my damn day.
After being gone for four days at the fire in California, all I craved was a burger, a beer, and a bed. He had way too much energy, likely given he was going home to his beautiful wife.
And unborn child. All the self-pity from before was gone.
“What?” I barked while moving into formation for a quick hit with the towel. At least my boxing experience came in handy for something useful.
“You’re looking pretty good, brother. But I look better.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Pictures from the rodeo. Remember that?”
How the hell could I forget? He’d talked me into doing a little roping and riding, both of which had left me sore as shit for a full week. At least the proceeds had gone to an animal rescue.
“How could I forget you dragging my ass into a competition I had no business being in.”
“Don’t look at me,” Axe chortled, the grin on his face about to be smacked off. He was the former rodeo champion. Not me and not a good portion of the Zullie team who’d been talked into participating or helping with the event. “Blame my wife. But you did look good in a pair of chaps.”
“Who are you kidding?” Rock tossed out. “He was a pansy ass in them.”
“What rodeo?” Viper asked as he wrapped a towel around his waist. Our soon to be off rookie status jumper had been locked up in prison when the rodeo had occurred, one of the biggest events in Missoula history. We’d even caught a notorious serial arsonist at the same time.
“This was for charity,” I lamented, tossing the wet towel in the laundry dump and grabbing a clean one. “Seriously, what are you looking at?”
“I don’t know for sure. Kenzie sent me an email with a couple pictures as an attachment. See what you think.” Axe handed me his phone.
A few of the other guys crowded around me as I stared at the photograph. “Fuck me,” I groaned just as the whistles started.
Some photographer had caught me after taking my shirt off.
Between the sweat and the way the sun was beating down, I’d been a fucking mess.
“What am I looking at?” I threw out, cringing inside.
An entire year had gone by. Why bring it up now?
There were two photos, the horrible one of me and one of a group of us, all jumpers dressed up like cowboys. Which we were not.
“The photos were suddenly posted on a few Instagram accounts, Facebook too from what Kenzie told me. They went viral.”
“Meaning what?” Rock asked.
“Old man,” Axe teased. “The photos were liked over a million and a half times. There went another thousand likes. Same with the picture of all of us.”
“That’s crazy,” Denver offered. “Why now after a year?”
My brother shook his head. “I don’t know. Plenty of offers from some sexy ladies though.”
“Yeah, and Kenzie will kick your ass back to California,” I told him.
“What about you, bro? You haven’t had a date since the dinosaurs were in existence.”
Everyone in the shower room laughed at my expense. They weren’t wrong, but my brother of all people knew the reason why. I shoved my way around them, heading to the locker. The cold brew was calling my name and I didn’t give a damn what time it was.
My brother was still scrolling through social media. “Hey. There’s a third photo. Remember that smokejumper promo the cap’n asked us to do?”
How could any of us forget?
“What about it?” I don’t know why I was bothering to ask. I couldn’t care less. Being the center of attention wasn’t on my bucket list and had never been. Although I wouldn’t admit it to anyone, I’d had a damn good time participating in the rodeo.
Except for one thing.
Seeing my ex.
Fuck. Now I was in a shitty mood.
“Also viral,” Axe mused. “There’s something weird about this.” He really seemed concerned. “And wow. Here we thought guys were assholes when it came to flirting. These women are wild.”
I shook my head and grabbed my jeans, groaning more than usual. Working the massive fire had taken a lot out of me. Maybe I was just getting too old for twenty-five-mile hikes. In the blazing sun with smoke billowing around us. With little water and all uphill.
Then the earthquake.
Chuckling, I could only imagine the way my father would tell the story.
Even after I’d yanked on my clothes, Axe was still reading comments. So were Denver and Viper.
“This is a good one. I’d have Steel’s baby any day.” Viper winked when he tossed me a look.
Snorting, I grabbed my keys and wallet, even more eager to get the hell out of here.
“I’ll ride that wild beast,” Denver cooed in a voice that I never wanted to hear again.
“Just cut it out. One and done. Don’t you dare ask me to do shit like that again.” I gave my brother an evil eye, which only made him laugh even harder.
“A few of the guys are stopping by Ziggy’s for a couple brewskis,” Viper offered. “You want to go?”
Normally, I would say yes, but for some reason, I was more exhausted than usual. “Not this time.”
“The guy is a dud,” my brother tossed out. “He’s getting old.”
I acted like I was going to break his neck while grinning.
Axe and I had grown closer over the last year since the death of our older brother.
But even he could be a pain in the ass. Especially on the mission, but what was said was between the two of us.
“Maybe I have something fun to do, unlike all you assholes,” I threw out as I backed away.
“Come on. Live a little,” Axe called after me, but I waved him off with my hand, grabbing my duffle and heading toward the parking lot.
Once outside, I took a deep breath of the late afternoon air while watching one of the helicopters taking off.
That had been Will’s place, the main helicopter pilot.
God, how my brother had loved being up in the air in his bird.
It didn’t matter that the multimillion-dollar piece of equipment belonged to the city of Missoula. It had always been his bird.
He’d babied her to death, insisting he was the only one capable of washing her the right way. Hell, he even had a name for her. What was it? Well, shit. I couldn’t remember.
Well, his fucking damn bird had failed him.
I waited until the bird was out of sight before heading toward my truck. How many times had I told Will to change the name because females were bad luck and bad news? He hadn’t listened.
Oh, yeah. He’d called her Violet. How the hell could I forget?
Maybe I’d ditch the nap and take a ride. Beer and burger. A long bike ride to nowhere. Decisions. Decisions. Maybe the ride would wait until tomorrow. I was still laughing at myself as I jumped into my truck, starting the engine.
A couple of days to myself. Exactly what I needed.
With Bullet for My Valentine on the satellite, I didn’t waste any time heading toward the mountains.
While I’d always told myself I’d move away from Missoula as soon as I was old enough and had been for a couple of years, I’d finally realized the mountains were in my blood.
There was no peace in a big city, just noise and traffic, assholes thinking they were better than me, and expensive food.
I preferred the peace of fishing, motorcycle riding, and being all alone.
The heavy metal music was exactly what I needed to expunge the horrific images from the fire that would haunt me for days to come.
Even though I’d seen it all during my illustrious career, nothing ever prepared you for finding a victim.
Nothing.
With a quick swing by one of the local grocery stores, I was more than eager to get home.
When I was on the mountainous two-lane road, I rolled down the windows and allowed the band to entertain the critters living in the woods.
The drive usually relaxed me, but even as I rounded the bend leading to a road containing only three houses, one of which being mine, I was more aggravated than usual and there was only one reason why.
Memories of Tanya.
I could call her a real bitch and not feel any regret about it, but my mama had taught me never to use the bad word for a woman. But since my mama had done it for me after being told what the woman had done to me, I felt it entirely appropriate to do so now.
“Fucking bitch!” How fascinating it coordinated with some lyrics the lead singer was belting out. Did reminding myself of one of the worst moments in my life make me feel any better?
Hell, no.
The memories only brought back a level of anger I’d fought on and off for two years. As I passed by the first house on the street, I was struck by how peaceful the environment was. Maybe because the couple who lived there was always traveling, currently vacationing in Switzerland.