Three
DANIEL
The morning light filters in through the windows, and the gentle rise and fall of the soft body next to me reminds me that I never made it to my own bed last night.
I don’t mind.
I’d rather wake up with Ali in my arms than sleep in my own bed ever again.
Her breathing loses the regular rhythm, giving away that she’s awake, and I fight against the tension that wants to build in my shoulders as my body braces for her to push me away again.
I’d give anything for her to roll over, smile at me, and tell me she loves me and she’s been just as miserable these past few months as I was.
I want her to tell me she’s done hurting us both.
I don’t want her to question the perfection of last night.
Or worst of all to regret it.
I don’t want her to dash the small flicker of hope that settled in my chest when she ravaged me with a hunger she’s never had before.
Neither of us move, and I start to believe that maybe the magic of last night will carry through this morning—until my phone alarm goes off, signaling that I need to head to the station in an hour for my next shift.
I roll over, turn off the alarm, and then roll back, wrapping my arm around her again.
“Do you have to go in?” she asks.
Of course she knows. We were together for over a year, and no one knows my routines or schedule better than she does.
“Yeah.”
“I’m guessing since you didn’t work yesterday or the day before, that this is the end of your four days off.”
“Yeah. I’ll be alternating twenty-four on, twenty-four off for the next five days.” I hesitate—the words I’m desperate to ask clogging my throat. I drop a kiss to her shoulder, close my eyes, and push the words out. “Can I see you again when I get off shift tomorrow?”
The seconds tick by in slow motion as I hold my breath, waiting for her response, fearing I already know what it is.
“Yeah,” she whispers so low I almost don’t catch it. She clears her throat. “I’d like that,” she says a little louder, but her voice is still soft and maybe even a little unsure.
But it’s the opening I need and a step in the right direction. I can work with unsure.
Happiness fills me until I think I might burst from it.
“I would too,” I tell her, keeping my voice low so she can’t tell how giddy I am at the idea of spending more time with her.
I kiss her shoulder one more time—because I can’t help myself with her this close—and then pull away, even as my body aches to remain wrapped around her.
“Just maybe not right when you get off. Seven in the morning is too early to go on a date.”
I drop my forehead against her shoulder as my body shakes with a laugh. “Noted. How about brunch then?”
“It’s a date,” she says, her voice soft and her words a balm to the ache that’s been in my heart all these months without her.
“I should get going. I gotta pick up some stuff from my house before going in.”
She turns over and her beautiful eyes trap me in their gaze. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“You can count on it.”
I get dressed and then head toward her front door when her voice calls out my name, causing me to turn around.
She’s right there, covered only by the oversized shirt that was in the box I brought over last night under the guise that it was hers.
It falls to midthigh and teases me with the nakedness I know is underneath.
With three steps, she’s in front of me, her hands sliding up my chest and only stopping when they graze the short hair at the back of my neck. She pushes up on her tiptoes and plants a kiss to my lips that isn’t nearly enough.
“I don’t regret it,” she whispers against my lips.
Tension I didn’t know I’d been holding immediately releases, and with a groan, I wrap my arms around her body and plunder her mouth, kissing her with a hunger and desperate need that rivals her own.
Leaving is torture, but this time is different from all the other times I’ve had to walk away from her the past five months.
Only a little over twenty-four hours before I’ll have her back in my arms. If the last five months have taught me anything, it’s that I can be patient.
I’ll wait a lifetime for her if that’s what it takes.
I enter the station with an extra spring in my step and a smile on my face.
“Well, looks like someone had a good night,” Tommy says with a wide, knowing grin.
I keep my mouth shut because what I do with Alison is no one’s business but ours, but I can’t wipe the smile from my face to save my life. Tommy just shakes his head and lets out a chuckle before slapping me on the back.
“It’s good to see you happy again.”
“Thanks, man.”
He leaves the room, likely to get started on checking equipment, and I put my things in my locker. My phone rings, and I glance down at the caller ID to see my sister’s name flashing on the screen.
Sadie and I didn’t have the best upbringing.
Our parents divorced when I was ten and Sadie was five, just old enough to remember the fallout.
They used us like pawns on a chessboard—not important enough to protect, but useful for their end goals.
Our only constant source of unconditional love and support was each other, and I vowed never to make Sadie feel like she wasn’t important.
My parents did that enough with the both of us.
So, of course, I answer her call.
“Hey, Kid, what’s up?”
“You realize I’m not actually a kid anymore, right?”
“Spoken like a true smartass. What can I do for you?”
“I wanted to see if you were free to grab some lunch or something.”
I lean against my locker. “Can’t. I just got on shift.”
“Bummer. Okay.” I can hear the disappointment in her voice that she tries to hide with her verbal acceptance.
“Is everything alright?”
It’s been a long time since I’ve felt the need to worry about Sadie, but there’s something in her voice that tugs at that brotherly concern in my chest.
“Yeah, everything’s fine.”
“Why don’t I believe you?”
She huffs out a laugh, but then sighs. “Probably because you know me too well.”
“You gonna make me guess?”
“How’s everything going with Operation: Get Ali Back?” There’s something in the way she says it that rubs me the wrong way, but instead I focus on her avoiding my question.
“I know what you’re trying to do.”
Her voice gets low, borderline pleading. “I’m not ready to talk about it, okay? So will you just let me change the subject and focus on you for a minute?”
I scratch at my jaw, torn between wanting to share with her that Ali’s giving me a shot but also wanting to make sure my sister’s okay.
“You’re sure you’ll tell me when you’re ready?”
“Don’t I always?”
Yeah, she does. So instead of pushing further, I tell her about Ali—not the sex stuff because she’s my sister and that’s gross, but everything else. I expect her to squeal with excitement, but instead the line is silent.
“Sadie?”
“Are you guys getting back together?” There’s a hint of concern in her otherwise neutral voice.
“That’s the goal. It’s always been the goal.”
She hesitates again, and the concern is crystal clear when she speaks this time. “I love Ali, you know that, but it’s been hard to see you hurting so much these past five months. I really don’t want her to string you along and then have to watch you heal all over again.”
My good mood threatens to disappear, but I hold on to the hope I woke up with this morning.
“It’s not going to be like that. She loves me, Sadie.
I know she does. She’s fucking scared, and she has every right to be.
What I do is dangerous, and she just lost her brother.
She’s allowed to grieve however that looks for her, even if I hate it.
But I belong to her. My heart is hers and has been since the moment we met.
That’s not going to change whether she’s ready for us to get back together now, or if I need to wait another thirty years.
Although I hope I don’t have to wait that long, I sure as shit will if it means I get to be with her in the end. ”
She hums, but it’s clear she doesn’t get it. She’s never loved anyone like this. All her boyfriends have been weak little shits who didn’t appreciate how amazing she is.
But someday she’ll find the love of her life and she’ll understand. She won’t be able to let him go any more than I can let Ali go.
The heart wants what the heart wants, and all that nonsense.
“I don’t want to argue with you about this, Danny. I love you. You’re really the only family I’ve got that matters. I don’t like to see you hurting, that’s all.”
“I know you don’t.” My chest squeezes painfully as all the hope and conviction I had this morning starts to wane. What if Sadie’s right? “It’ll all work out,” I say, less confident than before.
It has to.
I don’t want to live my life without Alison by my side, because what kind of life is worth living if you can’t be with the person you love?
A couple of the guys getting off shift come in to grab their shit from their lockers, and I say a quick goodbye to my sister and then hang up. The guys look exhausted.
“Long night?”
They both nod. “Arsonist struck again. Hardin is going to debrief you once you get out there.”
Two months ago there was a fire at an abandoned building that had some telltale signs that it could be arson.
Stacy Everett was the arson investigator on call and agreed with the initial assessment that things weren’t quite right, primarily the burn pattern, color of the smoke, and evidence of accelerants that wouldn’t have been natural to the building.
Two weeks later, there was another fire.
Then another one. Each fire has increased in intensity and size and not only become more dangerous for us to fight, but have been started in buildings that are increasingly populated.
We’ve got to find this guy before someone gets hurt. I slap my comrades on the back in solidarity and then head out to find our captain.
Captain Hardin is a burly man who’s been doing this job longer than I’ve been alive.
He’s slightly taller than I am, with a gray mustache that always makes me think of Sam Elliott.
He probably could’ve been promoted up to one of the chief positions, but he always says he prefers being closer to the action.
No one does more for his firefighters than he does.
When I find him, he’s talking to Stacy, who took point on the investigation and is leading a team as they examine any of the fires that we suspect are tied to this arsonist.
“Captain,” I say with a nod.
He turns to me, his lips curving up in a slight smile but his eyes weary. “Hey Daniel.”
“I heard the arsonist struck again.”
He nods, rubbing at the back of his neck, but it’s Stacy who answers my unspoken question. “It was pretty bad. He’s escalating dangerously, whoever he is,” Stacy adds, her face set in a somber expression that immediately puts me on alert.
“Was anyone injured?” A frisson of fear tingles down my spine—something that got worse after Mark died.
“Not this time, but it was too close for my comfort,” Hardin says.
We move toward the kitchen where the other firefighters on this shift are grabbing coffee before we get to work checking inventories.
“I’ll make this quick so you guys can go home,” Hardin says. “The arsonist struck again—this time on an apartment building that was fortunately cleared out due to a severe water pipe leak on the upper floors that had just been repaired. Residents were supposed to move back in today.”
“The building is a complete loss,” Stacy adds.
“We’ve been taking pictures of the crowd from the past three fires hoping this firebug wants to watch his work, but don’t have anything definitive yet.
He is definitely escalating; to what purpose, we aren’t sure yet.
There’s no apparent rhyme or reason to the buildings or locations, at least none that my team’s been able to find. ”
Captain clears his throat. “Long story short—be vigilant on fire calls. If anything seems off to you, get out of there until we can assess if it’s safe.”
We already take lots of precautions, so his comment shouldn’t even be necessary. “Is there something you’re not telling us, Captain?” I ask.
He and Stacy share a look, and she nods at him, albeit reluctantly. “It appears that whoever this fire starter is, he might be targeting firefighters, specifically.”
“What makes you think that?” I ask.
“The last three fires have had evidence that an electrical timer of some kind was used to set off an additional point of origin. The last one went off as soon as our guys were inside the building.”
“We suspect that it went off earlier than it was supposed to, but the intention was to cause more damage and potentially even casualties.”
“What makes you think it went off early?”
“One of our guys thought he saw someone. He went to check it out in case they needed a rescue and nearly got trapped. We later found that door had been secured from the outside, and two eyewitnesses reported seeing someone dressed in dark clothes running from that direction. If that was our fire starter, I don’t think they planned for it to go off while they were still inside the building,” Hardin says.
“I know that’s not much to go on, but with how this person is escalating each fire, we’d rather play it safe than sorry and consider all questionable instances suspect,” Stacy adds.
Captain clears his throat again. “Alright, let’s get back to work. You’ve all got inventories to do.” It’s not surprising that he wants us to focus on our daily tasks. Arson cases rarely get solved, and there’s no point worrying before something happens.