Chapter 7
Sam
Hose work, ladder sequences, equipment checks.
Cap called instructions from the bay floor while Tyler, Sean, and I moved through the routines we'd done a thousand times before.
My arms burned from hauling hose. Sweat dripped down my back despite the winter chill coming through the open bay doors.
The work was physical and repetitive and exactly what I needed.
That was how Havensworth firefighters were. We coped with movement, not words. Grief was something you carried quietly, buried under the weight of the job, and if you needed to fall apart you did it somewhere no one could see.
I was grateful for it. The drills gave me somewhere to put my body while my mind tried not to think.
"That's good," Cap called out. "We're done for the morning."
Tyler dropped from the ladder and stretched his neck. Sean killed the pump and headed inside without a word. I coiled the hose and followed them toward the locker room, my legs heavy, my chest looser than it had been in days.
The locker room was quiet. Just the hum of the fluorescent lights and the familiar smell of sweat and old gear. Tyler grabbed a towel from his locker and disappeared toward the showers.
I stopped at mine. Pulled it open. Reached for my water bottle.
And then I saw it.
Three lockers down. B shift. Jack’s locker.
The lock was still on. His things were still inside. No one had touched it yet.
I made myself look away. Grabbed my towel and headed for the showers.
The card game had been going for twenty minutes.
Tyler was up. Sean was complaining about it. I had a hand that should have had me talking trash, but the words weren't coming the way they usually did.
Sean threw down a card and looked at me. "You gonna play or just stare at your hand all day?"
I tossed a card onto the pile. Didn't say anything.
Tyler and Sean exchanged a glance.
"Come on, Reeves." Sean leaned back in his chair. "You're killing me here. At least pretend you're trying to win."
"I'm trying."
"That's trying?" Sean shook his head. "I've seen you play better half-asleep after a double shift."
I almost smiled. "Maybe I'm letting you win."
"Bullshit." Sean grinned. "You don't let anyone win. You're a sore loser and a worse winner."
I was about to remind him that I'd taken his money three weeks running, but Sean's grin faded. His eyes drifted over my shoulder and stayed there.
I knew that look. It was the same one he got when a girl he was about to make a fool of himself over walked into a bar.
I turned to see what the fuss was about.
It was Jamie.
She saw me at the same moment I saw her, and something in her expression softened. She took a step forward, her mouth opening to speak.
"Miss Donovan."
Cap was already crossing the bay toward her. Jamie turned.
"Captain Sutton."
"Come on in." He gestured toward his office. "We can handle the paperwork first."
She followed him across the bay. The door closed behind them.
Sean let out a low whistle. "That's Jamie Donovan? Jack's little sister?"
He'd been on shift the day of the funeral because someone had to man the station, so he hadn't seen her.
"Down, boy." Tyler smirked. "She's got a boyfriend."
"I'm just saying." Sean shrugged. "Jack never mentioned she looked like that."
I shoved his shoulder hard enough to knock him sideways in his chair.
"Easy." Sean laughed, righting himself. "I'm just appreciating the view. Didn't know that was a crime."
We went back to the card game. Or they did. I held my cards and stared at them without seeing a single one. Tyler won the next two hands and I couldn't have told you what I played.
Cap's door opened a few minutes later. Jamie emerged first, Cap behind her.
"Boys." Cap looked over at the card table. "Miss Donovan needs to clear out Jack's locker. One of you want to help her with that?"
Sean started to stand.
I shoved him back down before he got halfway up. "I got it."
Jamie's eyes met mine as I crossed the bay toward her.
"Hey," she said.
"Hey."
We walked to the locker room together.
Jack's locker had his name on the tape in his own handwriting. I stopped in front of it. "Do you have the combination, or do you need me to get bolt cutters?"
"Cap gave it to me." She pulled a slip of paper from her pocket.
She worked the lock with steady hands until it clicked open. She pulled it off and set it on the bench behind her.
I thought I was ready for this. I wasn't. It hit me all at once.
All of Jack's things were still inside exactly as he had left them.
A spare uniform shirt. A pair of sneakers he kept for after-shift runs.
Photos taped to the inside of the door—Rosie on his shoulders, both of them laughing at whoever was behind the camera.
Sarah smiling at something off-camera. Jack and Sarah on their wedding day.
Jack and Jamie as kids with their arms around each other.
A coffee mug that said WORLD'S OKAYEST FIREFIGHTER, a gag gift I'd bought him three Christmases ago.
Jamie stood there for a long moment, just looking.
I didn't say anything. I stood beside her and let her take as long as she needed.
She reached out and touched the photos first. Her fingers traced the edges, gentle, like she was afraid they might disappear.
"He was a good dad," she said quietly.
"Yeah. He was."
She set the photos carefully in the box Cap had given her. Then she started on the rest. The shirt. The sneakers. The mug. Each item placed gently, deliberately, like she was handling pieces of something that couldn't be replaced.
I watched her hands move through Jack's things. The truth sat in my throat like a stone.
I asked him to cover my shift.
He was there because of me.
He's dead because of me.
And now Jamie was packing up what was left of him, and I was standing beside her like I deserved to be there.
When she finished, she closed the door and stood there for a moment with her hand resting on the metal.
"Thank you," she said.
I nodded. The words I should have said stayed locked behind my teeth.
"Come on," I said instead. "I'll walk you out."
I carried the box to her car and set it in the trunk beside a stack of folders and Rosie’s car seat.
Jamie closed the trunk and turned to face me. The wind caught her hair, blowing a strand across her face. She tucked it behind her ear.
"I'm off on Thursday," I said. "I could come by. See you and Rosie."
Something shifted in her expression. Softened. "Rosie would like that."
She slipped into the driver's seat and pulled the door closed. I stepped back onto the sidewalk and watched her pull out of the lot.
Her car turned the corner and disappeared.
I stood there longer than I needed to.
Amber's car was in the driveway when I pulled in.
I sat in my truck for a moment, staring at it.
The key. I needed to get that damn key back.
But to do that, I had to end things with her properly, and Amber wasn't going to let me go without a fight.
I'd been avoiding her. I didn't have the energy to deal with her while I was still trying to hold myself together.
She'd make it a thing. She'd cry. She'd push back.
She'd tell me I was stressed, that I didn't mean it, that we just needed to get through this rough patch together.
And I couldn't handle that on top of everything else.
So I'd kept my distance. Let her texts go unanswered for hours. Made excuses when she wanted to come over. But Amber kept showing up anyway.
The other day, she'd been in a fender bender.
Nothing serious. She was fine, the other driver was fine, both cars barely scratched.
But she'd called 911, and Station 33 happened to respond.
Afterward, she'd insisted on buying food for the whole crew as a thank you.
I couldn't exactly say no in front of everyone.
She had a way of inserting herself into my life in ways that were hard to refuse.
This had to stop.
I got out of the truck and walked inside.
Amber was in the living room. Her face brightened when I walked in.
"There you are." She crossed the room and kissed me. "I was starting to think I'd miss you."
"We need to talk."
Her smile flickered. "Will it take long? I only stopped by to see you before I left. The girls will be here any minute."
Right. Hilton Head. Amber had mentioned it last week after she bought the station takeout. She'd tried to convince me to go with her. Said it might take my mind off things. Like a beach trip with her friends was going to fix the hole Jack left behind.
"This can't wait, Amber."
Something shifted in her eyes. A flicker of recognition she quickly buried beneath a bright smile.
"Okay." She stepped closer, her hand finding my arm. "What is it?"
I took a breath. This was it. Three months of putting it off, and I was finally going to say it.
A horn honked outside.
"That's them!" Amber's head turned toward the window. "Can we talk about this when I get back?"
Every damn time.
She rose on her toes and kissed my cheek, then wrapped her arms around me in a quick hug. "I'll call you when I land."
And then she was gone. The door closed behind her, and I stood there in the silence of my own apartment, listening to the car pull away.
I walked to the couch and dropped onto it. Leaned my head back against the cushion and stared at the ceiling.
A week. Amber was going to be back in a week. We could have the conversation then.