Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
It took a week. Seven days of churning stomachs, nervous poops and the inability to eat anything except Breeze’s chocolate caramel slice.
I felt airily calm as I flicked on the indicator and turned towards Bellamy Lane.
Traffic management trucks cordoned the entire block off.
Their colourful cones and security stationed at every street entrance.
The disruption to residents was minimal—the area was mostly farmland and reserves, just beyond the main drag of town—but I could see why Denis had needed to alert them.
The most exciting thing to happen in Glades Bay most weeks was the bet going on how many times Meryl would take a tumble on the street in a given week.
A few drops of rain hit my windscreen as a man in an orange high-vis jacket shone a torch.
Finding my number plate on his clipboard, he moved a few cones aside to let me through to the darkening street.
He pointed towards a paddock behind his truck, where a handful of emergency vehicles, a bus, and other cars sat, and I pulled in beside the recognisable black Jeep.
June was sitting inside furiously sipping at a bottle of water.
“Ready to fuck shit up?” I asked after I’d ripped the door open.
She smiled at me in her hot pink pencil skirt and camel-coloured cashmere jacket, then took another swig of her water.
“Thought you’d never ask.”
She eyed my outfit—strapless, fire-engine red maxi dress, split to the thigh, finished with red low-top Converse—and frowned as she stepped out of the Jeep.
“Fitting,” she said, sipping again. We both wore clothes that were not remotely appropriate for what was ahead. But this wasn’t a training session for me. It was revenge. Closure. Destiny. And I was going to look hot as hell while I created it.
“What’s with the water?” I asked, nodding at the bottle still at her lips. “You packing vodka in there?”
She snorted—then immediately spluttered, liquid spraying from her nose and mouth. I doubled over, laughing.
“I wish,” she choked, hands braced on her knees as she let it drip off her face, careful not to ruin her makeup. “Just plain old water. Every time I want a cigarette, I take a sip instead.”
“That doesn’t sound like much fun. What else have you tried replacing smoking with?”
“Crying,” she said honestly, standing upright and smoothing down her jacket. “Didn’t go over well with the kids.”
A hoot burst out of me. “Oh dear. Still, you picked a good night to bring water.”
I linked my arm through hers and patted her hand.
We made the trek down the long road towards Bellamy Children’s Home.
Vehicle parking was part of the safety precautions that had been taken in the weeklong prep to reduce the risk to participants if things got out of hand.
I didn’t care though. The walk was useful for gathering my thoughts, and I realised it was the first time I had travelled this road without a rising pain in my stomach.
The sky was dark, and a partial full moon was appearing from beyond the clouds as it began to rain. I laughed and looked up, letting the drops fall on my face, and June laughed beside me.
“Think the rain gods want us to stop?” I asked.
“Nah. They know I really need a fucking cigarette,” she replied, pulling me closer.
The air was cool, but I couldn’t feel it. I was running on pure adrenaline—I think I had been since my world crumbled less than two weeks ago.
“The guests of honour,” Denis Gavellin greeted us as we slipped through the open gate. He gave our outfits a once-over but said nothing. Good man. Someone had clearly trained him well.
He wore a navy-blue service jacket and slacks—the kind of formal uniform you’d expect at a funeral. It stood out among the others in turnout gear.
“You're not going in for the training tonight?” I asked as the bear-sized man swayed slightly on his feet. I hoped I’d concealed my relief.
“Supervising,” he said, tapping the two-way clipped to his chest. “Are you ladies ready to get started?”
Any problem with him making orders on that thing and make no doubt, I’d be yelling commands into it.
June and I both looked at each other. I could see the mixed feelings in my sister's eyes, and I felt them myself.
The familiar dread of being here. The excitement of the evening.
Add to that the grief of everything that had come out over the past couple of weeks and the determination to finish this right.
“Absolutely,” I said, hoping to reassure him for the last time.
Denis led us over to a large table that several important looking people hovered over papers at. People precariously balanced umbrellas between their knees. From what I could tell, the training was divided into three areas: domestic house scenario, fire behaviour, and fire investigation.
None of the officials looked up when we approached.
A twitchy woman in a brown pantsuit stood to the side, scribbling notes.
June’s hot pink heel tapping on gravel and the energetic swigging of her water bottle caused the older woman with the box dye brown hair to look up, noticing us for the first time.
She looked from June to Denis, to me, her eyes making a not so well-hidden criticism of our outfit choices.
“You two must be our guests of honour,” she smiled, and the braces on her teeth glinted in the portable LED lights that had been brought in for the occasion. Turns out vanity didn’t have an age limit.
“This brick house of a man has already used that line,” June snapped. “Tell me where we need to be.”
Three heads lifted at once, mouths agape like she’d just called the Pope a pagan.
“I apologise for my sister.” I let my perfectly executed winged eyes narrow as my mouth curved. “She’s giving up cigarettes.”
The woman with the brown hair and braces stood up and turned to June, her face transforming into the same expression mine does after running distance on the treadmill.
“You have my condolences,” she said, popping a piece of gum into her mouth. “One year, one month, twenty-two days. They say it gets easier.” She shrugged.
I didn’t turn to look at June—she was either feeling deeply validated or fully crushed by that information.
One of the suited men finally stood and extended a hand to each of us.
“Thanks for this opportunity,” he said, running a hand over his slick black hair. “Not often does the crew get to simulate a real scenario like this. We train them well, don’t get me wrong, but nothing compares to the real thing. It’s a game-changer for the new recruits.”
“And some of the oldies—getting complacent, aye,” said a bald man, reaching over to punch Denis lightly in the arm.
Denis let out a loud laugh and, in a flash of camaraderie, pulled the man into a headlock, giving his shiny scalp a noogie. Then, just as quickly, he returned to neutral. It was a fleeting moment—but it was nice to see the big man had a soft spot.
“It’s time to begin, Mayor Akari,” said the twitchy woman, glancing at her watch.
“Thank you, Elise,” the mayor replied with a dip of her head.
“Trust you to snap at the bloody mayor,” I hissed into June’s ear as everyone at the table began exchanging last minute directions.
Her eyebrows curved skyward. “How was I supposed to know? Shouldn’t she be wearing a special necklace or something?”
“Detective!” the mayor’s voice sliced behind me at the approaching man.
“Mayor,” a gravely tone that sent a tingle up my spine echoed past me, and the mayor giggled.
“I’ve told you to call me Akari,” she said breathlessly, her cheeks glowing red.
Was the mayor of Glades Bay melting into a puddle over Dax Holmes?
I mean, I couldn’t blame her—but still.
The rest of the group exchanged awkward glances. I cleared my throat, breaking the tension that had formed in the space between the voices.
“I didn’t know you were the officer on duty tonight,” I said. My voice came out unrecognisably high, so I cleared it again and looked anywhere but at him.
June’s brow creased as she took in my fidgeting, then flicked her gaze to Dax, who had quietly wedged himself next to Denis. He was wearing sweatpants. Again. Was that even legal while on duty?
I could see why the mayor was flustered. His black sneakers stepped forward as he politely shook hands with everyone, and I tried not to stare at the ripple of muscles under his t-shirt sleeves every time he moved.
“This is my sister,” I squeaked, as he reached June.
Her brows lowered suspiciously at my odd tone. Great—she was going to give me hell for this.
“June,” she said coolly, meeting his gaze. “You two know each other already?” She asked, cocking her head in my direction.
“A little,” Dax replied, with a soft smile tugging at his lips. Whatever June saw in his eyes made her smile too—though hers leaned towards mischief.
“You all good that it’s me?” he asked seriously, withdrawing his hand. “I’m senior on duty tonight, but I can call someone else if you’d prefer.”
“I wanted it to be you!” I blurted—and then instantly clapped a hand over my mouth as my eyes bulged in betrayal.
Excellent. Just brilliant.
That was twice now my mouth had acted out like a traitor around Dax. Move over Akari—I was officially turning into a lovesick teen.
“I mean to say…” I exhaled, starting again. “I’m glad it was you, because you’ve been here before and are familiar with the house from the break-ins and everything. Saves having to explain it to someone else.”
June snorted, and I glared up to see her spin, her back facing me as she covered her mouth and her shoulders heaved. Bitch. She was having a great old time. Dax dipped his head, ignoring my comment and allowing me to maintain a shred of dignity, like the gentleman he was.
“Now that everyone’s here, shall we make a start?” Mayor Akari clapped her hands together, her professional disposition recovered.
Final instructions were exchanged between the important people before teams were clicked over like servers at a restaurant.
The firefighters in turnout gear formed themselves into three groups, fifteen per team.
I tried not to focus too hard on the uniforms. I mean, who didn’t have a thing for firefighters?
A caramel-skinned man with full lips caught my eye. He winked. I coughed, clearing my throat again, and June patted my back with a grin.
Okay, not a great start. But honestly, what expectations did I have of myself? My body was grasping at comfort wherever it could find it. That was its oldest habit. Even so—there was only one man whose comfort I truly wanted.
“Before we get too far into things,” Denis’s voice boomed, silencing the crowd, “let me introduce you to Riley Walls, who has kindly donated her property for this training. And next to her is her sister, June. Let’s give them a round of applause.”
Scattered clapping followed. Some firefighters were genuinely grateful, while others looked downright confused.
But looking at the direction of their stares, it was more because of our outfit choices than anything else.
The man with the full lips winked again, and I felt Dax’s skin brush up against my arm as he moved closer to me. I instinctively leaned into him.
“They will take care of their affairs while we talk training. I ask you to respect these women and the importance of their experience tonight. Many people have walked these halls, I’ll remind you. We don’t know their stories, but I ask that you remember that each of them has one.”
I swallowed hard. There was more depth to the big bear than I’d given him credit for.
My throat tightened as I dipped my head in quiet thanks.
Some recruits clapped again and nodded solemnly. Others looked like they’d rather get back to their Netflix binge.
“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get your hand off me!”
The voice cracked through the air like lightning.
Ice surged through my chest. I snapped my eyes to June, who stiffened beside me.
“I don’t need an escort!” Miss Lissy growled at the poor man in a high-vis vest. His cheeks flushed red. He wouldn’t be the first man to unravel in her presence.
“It’s like a nightmare,” June whispered.
Despite the weight loss, she’d recognised her instantly.
“Miss Walls!” Miss Lissy beamed as she approached.
“This is a private event,” I said flatly, turning away. I didn’t have the patience for her mental gymnastics tonight.
“I thought you’d like to know we’re fining you,” her voice sliced over my shoulder.
I turned back to see the darkness behind her smile.