Chapter 2
TWO
An hour and a half after the call had gone out, Sam collapsed in one of the dayroom recliners. One building secured, one cat rescued. All in a day’s work. She sighed and lifted her hands to reset her ponytail.
Greer breezed into the dayroom. “Did you hydrate?”
“I just sat down.” She let her arms drop to the recliner arms. “I’m not getting up again unless the bell goes off.”
“You know hydration is important. Especially in our line of work. Equipment and gear maintenance.” He lifted a finger. “Debriefing, reports.” He lifted two more. “Hydrating while waiting for the next call.” He lifted a fourth finger.
“Yes, Dad.” She huffed as she stood. “Statistically speaking, the next call will be a medical call.”
“You still need to be hydrated.” He shot her a look. “Besides, statistics are changing thanks to a firebug making their home in Renegade.”
“Fine.” He was right, even if she had no intention of saying that out loud. “Do you think the fire we just put out was started by him or her?”
There had been a string of arsons in commercial buildings over the past few weeks. So far there had been no rhyme or reason to the fires, and thankfully, no one had been hurt.
But that could so easily change.
She, of all people, knew how quickly everything could shift trajectory.
“Most likely, but I’m not an investigator. I just put out the fires. We should probably eat now. No telling when we’ll get another chance.” Greer turned his head toward the bay door and yelled loud enough for those in the bay to hear him. “Who’s ready for some food?”
“Depends on who’s on kitchen duty.” Sam started after him into the kitchen portion of the open-concept room.
Greer turned around and walked backward. “Um, that would be me.” He smiled proudly.
Mason Greer was the station’s youngest firefighter at twenty-four. He was also the station health nut. That wasn’t a bad thing—health was important, sure. But some of the things he’d had them try had been a bit sketchy.
“I think I’ll pass on the swamp-water protein drink.” She followed Greer. “That slimy drink tasted like a dirt-covered rotten apple sprinkled with ash.”
She was more of a pizza and side salad kind of girl.
He rolled his eyes and passed into the kitchen. “Wheatgrass has antioxidants, is good for your immune system, and boosts energy.”
The dayroom, where she’d been sitting, was basically a living room. There was a couch, loveseat, and a couple recliners arranged in front of a television. A kitchen island separated the two portions, and the long dining table seated everyone if they all squeezed in.
She wrinkled her nose. “I’d rather eat chalk than wheatgrass.”
“I got you, Sammy. You can have my bacon sandwich.” Dean stuck a half-eaten sandwich in her face.
She flinched back. Where had he come from?
Caleb Dean was the antithesis of Greer when it came to nutrition.
His diet consisted of bacon and more bacon, and yet he seemed to remain fit despite the cholesterol clogging his arteries.
He stood a couple inches taller than her, and while he wasn’t quite as muscle-bound as Holt, you could tell he worked out.
When it was Greer’s turn to cook, he tried to balance out the meal and make it healthier for his coworkers. He’d tried to sneak some turkey bacon onto Dean’s breakfast plate one morning. That had not been a great morning. For anyone.
Sam figured the balance between the two men was somewhere in the middle ground—where she tried to live. Just your quiet, average life. Nothing to see here.
She pushed the sandwich in Dean’s hand away and frowned. “Where’s the bacon? All I see is mayo.”
Greer looked over from behind the counter, where he poured some oil into a pan. “Dude. We’ve been back from the call all of five minutes. How do you already have a bacon sandwich?”
“It’s an emergency bacon sandwich. I always keep one ready to go. You know, just in case.” Dean shrugged his shoulders and took a bite of the sandwich, causing mayo to dribble down his chin.
“Exactly what kind of situation requires an emergency sandwich?” Greer crossed his arms over his chest.
“That’s the point! You never know.” Dean slung his arm around Sam’s shoulders. “That’s why you’ve always gotta have one ready, right, Sammy?”
She shoved him away, and he finished the sandwich, licking his fingers like a little kid.
Sam gestured to the glob of mayo on his chin. “How does your wife put up with you?”
“She looks forward to his shifts.” Zachary Holt breezed in and sat on one of the stools around the kitchen island.
The guy had light-brown hair that he usually kept covered with a ball cap, was six-two, and looked like he could crush bricks with his bare hands.
Despite his scary appearance, he was a giant teddy bear.
“That way she has some peace and quiet.”
Sam lifted an eyebrow. “With two little kids at home? Unlikely.”
Dean hopped up to sit on the counter. “She said the only way this marriage is ending is if one of us dies. And since she doesn’t look good in orange, she can’t kill me unless she figures out the perfect crime.” He shrugged.
“So instead, she feeds your bacon addiction, hoping you’ll have a heart attack one day,” Holt interrupted. “She’s in it for the death benefits.”
“You’re just jealous that I can eat what I want and still have this fabulously fit body.” Dean gestured to himself and sent Holt a kissy face.
“Barf.” Sam went to the coffeepot. If Dean was the antithesis of Greer, Holt was the military upgrade. His muscles had muscles.
“I have no desire for a dad bod like what you’re rocking.” Greer turned around and started pulling food from the refrigerator.
Dean sucked in his practically nonexistent stomach and then let it out. He was in shape, as they all were. They had to be to do this job. The team was only as strong as its weakest link.
As the lone female of Station 4, she’d been prepared to fight for their respect when she’d arrived four years ago, but they’d welcomed her to the family. She trusted each of these men with her life, and they trusted her with theirs. Now she didn’t want to go anywhere else.
“Williams.” Captain Bennett’s voice came over the speaker system. “Telephone call. Line two.”
Her stomach clenched as she jogged to the lobby for a little privacy. The only telephone call she would be getting at work would be from the school. Was Bella sick? She’d have to take time off to go get her sister and run her home.
She snatched up the phone. “Sam Williams speaking.”
It might have been years, but part of her would always hesitate before she called herself Sam and not Madison.
“Ms. Williams. This is Vice Principal Woodworth. I’m calling regarding your sister Isabella.”
“Yes, ma’am. Is everything okay?”
A list of illnesses rolled through her mind. It wasn’t quite flu season yet. Maybe strep or a sinus infection. Bella had seemed fine last night. Had she woken up ill? Maybe that was why the neighbor had noticed she’d been late this morning.
“Physically, she’s fine, but she is in trouble. We caught several young ladies vaping in the bathroom this afternoon when they were supposed to be in class. Isabella was one of them.”
Vaping was no better than smoking in the girls’ room. Hadn’t she taught Bella better than that?
“Since this is her first offense, we’ve only given her lunch detention. We just wanted you to be aware of the situation.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll have a discussion with her tonight. Thank you for calling.”
Isabella had been a good kid all her life. Was this the start of a teenage rebellion, or just a misunderstanding? Sam intended to quash this as quickly as possible so it didn’t disrupt the tenuous hold they had on the peace in their lives.
She headed back to the kitchen and ran into Dean in the hallway by the noticeboard, which was covered with safety posters someone had drawn mustaches all over.
“Everything okay?” He frowned.
“It will be once I talk to that sister of mine.” She gritted her teeth. “I taught her better than that.”
“Uh-oh. What happened?” Dean sidestepped to lean against the wall.
Sam moved with him and checked no one else was nearby. She didn’t want to talk about this in front of the others. “That was the school. Bella skipped class to vape in the bathroom.”
“Typical teenager doing typical teenage stuff? Might not be a big deal.”
“I’m hoping she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.
I’ll know more tonight when shift is over.
” It couldn’t be more than that, right? Isabella knew she had to mind her p’s and q’s.
She knew how essential adhering to the rules was.
Their lives depended on it. Depended on anonymity and flying under the radar.
Right now, it was a simple note in her school file, but if the behavior persisted and the police got involved, that would create official reports.
No one in WITSEC who had followed the rules had ever been located—or worse. It was when people broke the rules that their lives were endangered.
Part of following the rules meant staying out of trouble. Vaping in the bathroom was no big deal, but it could lead to a big deal if she kept hanging out with those girls.
“Ah, teenagers. Gotta love ’em. I know you like rules and all, but she’s a kid, and kids make dumb mistakes. They push boundaries and see how far they can get before it breaks.” Dean folded his arms over his chest.
“What do you know about teenagers? Your kids are little.”
“Uh, I was a teen. And I watch TV. She’s at that age where she’s learning about the world. She’s moving from being a kid to an adult.”
“She’s fourteen. She’s not an adult, Dean. She’s a kid I’m responsible for.”
“To you, she isn’t an adult. But in her mind, she’s close. She’s going to make some dumb decisions in her life. Didn’t you when you were her age?”
“It’s hard to find the time to make dumb mistakes when you’re working a full-time job and raising your sister.”