Chapter 3
Amaris
With her duffel bag hanging from her shoulder and a coffee spilling in her hand, Amaris fumbled with her key in the worn lock. The rickety porch squeaked as her feet finally shuffled into the house.
She was immediately hit with the smell of cinnamon rolls and a fresh brew of coffee.
After the fire yesterday, she was ready to shove a fat cinnamon roll in her face and guzzle some piping hot coffee.
She’d gotten her ass ripped by her chief, and if that hadn’t been enough, Charlie had caught her bawling her eyes out in the utility closet.
Thankfully, he’d stepped out and hadn’t asked why, but he’d wanted to.
His pleading eyes had given him away when he’d handed her a bowl of ice cream while they’d watched the television after dinner.
Amaris dropped her bag and shoes in the hall and leaned into the wall, picking at a spot of chipped off-white paint.
No amount of ice cream or cinnamon rolls could take away the writhing in her chest. She’d played the scenario in her head all night, and no matter how terrible she’d felt, she wouldn’t have done it any differently.
They’d gotten the couple out, but whether they survived was a different story.
She’d ignored the outcome report. Enough morbid thoughts had already consumed her mind.
She peeled herself from the wall, taking more paint with her with the elevated humidity plastered across her sweaty body.
She rubbed at her sleepless eyes and the dark bags as her feet carried her through the living room and over the stained shag carpet toward the bittersweet smell beckoning her.
Her legs were leaden from the fire as she stumbled to the kitchen.
She stopped before the swinging door, allowing the mask to settle over her, to harden like armor.
It’d become routine now, bracing herself for which Derek she was about to get.
With the stress of planning the wedding and work, his moods were growing unpredictable.
Swallowing the lump in her throat each morning was growing more difficult, but cinnamon rolls were usually a good sign.
She pushed open the door and was hit with an even stronger aroma.
“I’m glad I get to see you before work.” Derek poured a thermos of coffee. “I made your favorite.”
A smile flourished his features, capturing the perfection of his ensemble with his slicked-back, chestnut-colored hair and his button-down and slacks.
She missed the police uniform he used to sport and the tight fit around his ass, but she didn’t care as a weight released from the massive boulder sitting on her shoulders.
She couldn’t help her cheeks growing rosy at his peace offering.
He gestured to the folding table with the mismatched chairs they’d acquired through various garage sales. The counter creaked under his weight as he leaned against it and screwed the lid on his thermos.
“How was work? I was out of the station for most of the day and didn’t hear anything,” he said, further bearing his weight against the peeling white countertop.
“Fine,” she began. Her teeth nibbled at the edge of her lip as she debated whether it was a good idea to mention the fire or not. “Just a normal day.”
Derek didn’t bat an eye as he plated her breakfast. She hated lying to him, to anyone. She was pathetic at it.
He laughed, sucking a bit of the icing from his thumb. “I’ll never understand how any of you are willing to enter a stranger’s house without a gun.” His lips curled into a smirk as he patted the police-issued weapon strapped to his side.
Gainesville was a small department, which meant minimal staffing and cross training. Amaris wasn’t only a firefighter but also a paramedic. She might have had the occasional combative patient or two, but no one had ever pulled a gun on her.
“They’re usually not calling us because they want to hurt us,” she said, sliding into a chair. “They want our help.”
“So you say.” The corners of his lips turned up, and he placed a plate of cinnamon rolls and a fresh cup of coffee in front of her.
“Thank you,” she said, a plea for a truce.
Derek planted a kiss on the top of her head, stopping a moment before slithering over her neck to plant several wet kisses.
Her hand slid into his hair as her pulse thrummed.
The woodsy musk of his cologne filled her senses, relinquishing the hold the cinnamon rolls had.
His arms slid around her body, embracing her in his warmth.
His fingers twirled with the end of her ponytail as his lips nibbled at the edge of her ear.
“You know I only want you safe,” he whispered. “I don’t know what I’d ever do without you.”
It was nice to enjoy a moment without arguing. His nose tickled her ear as he snuggled into her neck. Amaris couldn’t help releasing a sigh, blowing out her anxiety for how the morning could’ve gone.
“I’m sorry about the other night. You know the scotch throws words into my mouth.” He breathed into her neck, prickling the goose hairs down her spine.
“Let’s forget about it.”
His hand slid to her chin, grasping it between his fingers as he turned her to face him. His gray eyes gleamed against the fluorescent light overhead, and his prominent jaw angled forward as he slipped his thin lips over hers.
“That’s why I love you, my beautiful Amaris,” he whispered against her lips.
“I love you too.”
She slid her arms around his neck and pulled him in for one more kiss.
She wished every morning was like this. He was too charming for his own good, but he was right.
The drunken fit had passed. He hadn’t meant to say any of it, and she’d said things she wasn’t proud of either.
She sensed him smile as he pulled back, pressing his shirt of wrinkles and tending to a few stray hairs.
She missed the shaggy mop he’d sported in high school.
It’d made him more rugged, not as clean and put together.
She debated bringing up what was really on her mind, since it’d caused a fight the other night, but with his sober state, there was a chance he’d agree.
“How about you take a break from your cases for the night and we wedding plan instead?”
He cringed, his grin vanishing. “Now is not a good time to be planning a wedding.”
She set her fork down. “Derek, we’ve been engaged for two years. How long are we going to keep pushing it off?”
“You know how busy I’ve been since I got promoted,” Derek said. “I have to prove myself and at least close one of these missing persons cases. How can I call myself a detective if I haven’t even solved one?”
“What about me? I got promoted and have more work than ever, but you don’t see me stalling this wedding.
Am I supposed to sit here and wait around for you to finally have a break in a case to buy a wedding dress?
” she said as he grasped his temples, massaging the vein on his forehead. “Do you even want to marry me anymore?”
His face snapped toward her.
I shouldn’t have said that. She gripped the edge of the table, waiting for him to clap back with something venomous.
“Of course I want to marry you. I love you, for fuck’s sake, but I can’t handle planning a stupid wedding while also juggling these cases. Doesn’t the woman usually take care of everything anyways?”
Her heart plummeted with resignation into the knot claiming permanent residence in her stomach.
Apparently, it was her job to plan alone what was supposed to be the start to the rest of their lives together.
Forget that she’d spent years working her ass off too.
She was just a helpless woman who couldn’t perform her job without her fiancé worrying she’d be killed.
She wanted to make him realize what he was doing to her.
Why couldn’t he see it hurt, and he was pulling a piece of her heart each time he pushed the wedding off?
She understood why he wanted to bring these people home, or at least give the family some resemblance of peace, but she couldn’t take it anymore.
She was here now. Why couldn’t he see that?
“Can we talk about this later?” he said, grabbing his thermos. “I’m going to be late.”
“Fine,” she breathed, grabbing the ceramic mug and taking a swig of coffee like she was downing a shot of whiskey.
He leaned and pressed a kiss to the top of her head before running through the house. His footsteps carried him over the creaky wooden floors, over the ugly carpet, and out the front door.
Her hands wrapped around the mug. Its heat penetrated through the walls of the cup. Was it selfish to want his time and to pull him from his cases? She shouldn’t have to battle it, begging for his affection one minute and working an extra shift to avoid him the next.
She dropped her head against the table, groaning as her fork bounced next to her. Derek hadn’t remembered what yesterday was. She’d hoped for a text last night or something this morning, but he’d forgotten.
§
Amaris walked the same path as always, hopping the back fence leading to the park behind her neighborhood. She slipped through two large bushes and emerged onto the dirt trail, brushing off the twigs and leaves sticking to her shirt and jean shorts.
Each morning after shift, she took a trek through the woods, where she was free to be herself. Where she didn’t have to wear a lieutenant’s cap or a mask to hide her frustration or grief. She was free.
The discovery of the never-ending road had been a mystical moment when she’d raced after a rabbit in the backyard she’d grown up in.
Gran and Grandad’s old house was only a block from hers and Derek’s.
She’d been young then but had felt an instant sense of relief from whatever seemed to trouble a ten-year-old at the time.