Chapter 37
Hayes
“All units be advised. There has been a collision on Main Street. Condition of those involved is unknown.”
Pushing the button of my radio that’s clipped to my vest, I respond to dispatch, “This is Miller. I am two streets over. I’ll respond and update.”
This is my second night on shift.
It’s been a couple of weeks since my date with MJ. Our schedules haven’t aligned between work and football, but we text and talk on the phone as much as possible.
I never dreamed of getting a second chance with her, but I won’t throw it away now that I have it.
She opened up to me, and I don’t take that for granted. We’re doing things differently this time, being honest with each other about what we need, and I’m thankful for that.
My time with MJ isn’t the only thing going right, either. Things are starting to look up for the team, too. We’ve won the last two games, and they weren’t against easy opponents. The boys are beginning to work as a team—especially Tanner.
I nearly cried walking off the field on Friday.
Flicking my lights and siren on, I turn left on a side road that leads me toward Main Street. Sirens sound from behind me, and I turn my head just in time to see a fire truck fly by me.
Irritation flickers in my chest. It’s not that the fire department is en route, but to pass a police car with a siren on that is clearly en route to the accident just seems reckless.
I’m on the scene within minutes, and my irritation is quickly directed elsewhere. The sight before me is not what I would consider a wreck.
Two cars sit in the middle of the road facing one another, their bumpers barely touching. Standing outside of the vehicles, the respective owners are giggling like school girls, only they aren’t. They are each at least eighty years old and menaces to society.
Throwing my car in park, I call dispatch, advising that backup is not needed and step out of my vehicle. My sirens are off, but I leave my lights on so anyone coming into town knows to slow down.
As I approach the two women, I notice the firetruck sitting on the other side of the road, and I watch as enemy number one steps out.
Theo.
It’s odd he’s here with the crew. One, because this wreck is not big enough to call for the fire department in the first place, and two, because it was rare to see the last Fire Chief outside his office.
Figuring that it’s best to deal with him first before the troublemakers down the street, I direct my steps in that direction.
He sees me approaching, and recognition sparks in his eyes before his face turns cool and professional.
“How can I help you?” he asks when I’m closer.
“Well,” I say, keeping my voice steady, which is a miracle because the guy gets on my nerves just looking at him, “as you can see, the fire department isn’t needed for this. I have it under control. You can head back now. And hey, next time, tell your driver not to take unnecessary risks when getting to the scene.”
His lips tilt up. “I was driving.”
I shrug, still remaining calm. “Message still applies.”
“Why? Afraid you won’t win?”
Suddenly, it doesn’t feel like we are talking about driving anymore. My mind races back to when I was furniture shopping with MJ. He’d said something pretty similar that day, too.
“No, I know who the better man is here, and it’s not you. Now, if you’ll excuse me—”
“Actually,” Theo says with a smirk, “I think I’ll accompany you. Consider it training.”
I grit my teeth and ball my fists, knowing there’s nothing I can say. Technically, as fire chief, he outranks me on the scene.
He’s close on my heels, following me to the two waiting women. They are no longer giggling, which should be a relief, but the way they stare at Theo and me with a mischievous glint makes me want to run in the other direction.
“Ethel. Muriel. How are you ladies today?”
They smile at me, pretty as a peach, as if their cars aren’t on the road bumper to bumper.
“Oh, we’re fine now that we’ve got some eye candy to look at. Two for the price of one,” Ethel says, knocking Muriel in the ribs with her elbow.
“Ow, you old hoot. Your elbows are sharp. Eat some carbs. No man likes a bony lady. Ain’t that right, Mr. Fireman?”
Beside me, Theo’s face has turned to the color of his truck, and I have to say, I don’t regret him tagging along now. If he hadn’t, their focus would be on me.
Ethel and Muriel are known for their antics around town. To find them here in a “wreck” does not surprise me.
“Ladies, can you tell me what happened here?” I ask, pointing to their cars behind them.
The chuckling returns, turning into all-out giggles as they try to catch their breath to explain what happened.
Theo is quickly losing patience with the two women, and I’m reveling in it. I let the giggling go on longer than I usually would because I can see it getting under his skin.
“Enough,” he says, authority deepening his voice.
The giggling stops, and I step to the side, not wanting to be in the crossfire.
“What did you just say to us, young man?” Ethel asks.
She’s the more diabolical of the two. Get on her bad side, and revenge is sure to come your way, usually with a spark of Ethel fashion.
“Officer—” he pauses to read my name tag, “Miller, here, asked you a question. Unless you want him to arrest you for public disturbance, it would be advisable that you answer.”
Two sets of eyes flick my way. I throw my hands out in front of me, showing them I want nothing to do with the claim Mr. Fireman just made on my behalf.
Ethel steps forward and grabs hold of Theo’s ear, twisting. “Boy. You better watch your tone.”
I cough, trying to cover up a laugh and failing spectacularly.
Theo sputters as Ethel gives his ear another hard twist, then releases it, giving his cheek a nice hard pat before stepping back.
“Now, Hayes,” Muriel says, the more practical of the two, “would you like to hear about our wreck?”
Looking at Theo, I offer him a smug grin. “Boy would I.”
______________________
Last night was rough. After the wreck at the beginning of my shift, dealing with Theo, and several other crazies coming out of the woodwork, I was ready to come home.
But after a nap and some food, my day has significantly improved.
I’m sitting on my couch with MJ in my arms and Kota at our feet.
It’s my first night off in a long time, and I’m ready to enjoy it with my girl in my arms and my dog by my side.
“How was your night?” MJ asks as she snuggles deeper into my side and clicks through the channels on the television.
“Pass,” I say, yawning into my hand.
She stops clicking, turning so that she can see my face. “That bad, huh?”
“Nah, just a little crazy. Plus, my sleep schedule hasn’t adjusted to the night shift yet.”
Another yawn, and I lean my head back against the couch cushions, closing my eyes.
“I can go if you need to rest.” She’s being nice, but what she doesn’t get is that I would spend a hundred nights without sleep if it meant I could keep her by my side.
“I’m fine. You stay.” I don’t open my eyes to answer her, keeping my head tilted back.
“Okay.”
The room goes quiet except for the sound of the television.
I’m nearly asleep—in the land between dreams and reality—when MJ jumps up, startling me.
My arms fly up, trying to gain my bearings, and when I finally do, she’s staring down at me with amusement playing on her lips.
“Stay right here,” she says like I had any intention of going somewhere else. Then she’s running out the door, returning moments later with a book.
“What’s that?” I ask, my interest piqued.
She sits back down beside me, tucking her feet underneath her and leaning into me. My arm is slung across the back of the couch. I bring it down, wrapping it over her shoulder and pulling her close.
“It’s Langston’s journal. My mom gave it to me. I thought we might look at it together. I’ve only looked at a couple of entries.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to just keep it for yourself?”
Swiping the hair out of her face, she says, “I’m positive. I want to share this with you. Here, take it.”
My fingers tremble as I take the leather-bound book from her hands and open the first page. Langston’s handwriting is neat and smooth, filling the page with his emotions.
I flip through the pages, skimming over the content. When I reach the fourth page, MJ’s hand shoots out, stopping me.
“That’s where I left off. Will you read it to me?”
I nod, emotions threatening to smother me.
Focusing on the page in front of me, I begin to read.
July 8th.
Today was a good day. I spent it at the falls with my best friend and little sister. Even if we had to cut it short because I had lost my cool. I don’t regret it, though. MJ always protects me, and it’s the least I can do to protect her from guys who aren’t good enough for her—not that I think any guy will ever be good enough for her. Although, my best friend might be if he ever gets his head out of his butt. I see how he looks at her—well, I see how he looks at her now. I didn’t see it in high school, and I said some awful things to MJ. I should apologize to her. I should apologize for a lot of things, but will it mean anything if I continue to make the same mistakes? I’m stuck in this cycle I don’t know how to get out of.
My stomach rolls, and it takes all my effort not to puke.
He knew—Langston knew that I was in love with his sister, and he would have been okay with it.
We spent all that time hiding it from him, and he knew.
Flipping the book closed, I lean forward and sit it on the coffee table. With my elbows on my knees, I try to process.
MJ’s hands fall into her lap. “We messed up more than we realized, didn’t we?”
Turning my head, I look at her over my shoulder. “Not you. Me.”
“No, Hayes. We screwed up together. I hid it from him, too.”
Her hand finds my back, rubbing in comforting circles, but I jerk away, standing up. I can’t handle her touch right now. I failed her. I failed her in so many ways that I didn’t even realize.
Kota lifts his head, watching me walk to the window and pace, but he doesn’t move, staying beside MJ. She’s watching me, too. I can feel her eyes burning into my skin, but I can’t bring myself to look.
So many times after our day at the waterfall, she begged me to tell her brother about us. But I always put it off for later. I was scared of—I’m not even sure what I was scared of now—Langston’s disapproval, maybe.
“Hayes, don’t do this.” There are tears in her voice, and it rips my chest wide open, but how can I face her now?
If we had just told Langston, things would be different. He would be alive. It’s my lies that killed him.
“I’m not doing anything.” I deny it—even though I know I’m lying—to her, myself, God.
That’s what I am—a liar.
Silas is wrong. There’s no redemption for me, even if I had started to feel like maybe there was.
Being with MJ these past couple of weeks and seeing the difference in Tanner, the guilt had started to become muted. But now it’s so thick I’m choking on it.
Soft footsteps pad against the floor until I can feel MJ standing behind me, but she doesn’t touch me.
“You know what, Hayes—I won’t do this with you again. I love you. I always have, but you push me away. You did after Langston died, and you are now.”
My lungs burn with how badly I want to say those words back to her.
I love her, but how can I tell her that when her brother would be alive if it weren’t for me?
“I’m not,” I croak.
She huffs, stomping her foot, but I still don’t look at her.
“Then look at me. Turn around and tell me that you aren’t going to push me away because you are taking all the blame now. We both messed up—not just you. There are so many things we should have done differently—so many reasons we shouldn’t be together, even before reading that journal entry—but I was willing to heal, Hayes, because I love you. So turn around and look at me. That’s all I’m asking. Just look at me.”
The raw pain in her voice feels like claws scrapping down my chest. I want to turn around. I want to heal with her, but my feet stay planted to the ground, unable to move.
Her sigh is like a slamming door on the life she was offering me.
“Call me when you are done playing the martyr because I can’t play it with you anymore, Hayes.”
She gathers her stuff, but I still don’t move.
I’m sinking in my self-loathing, letting the girl I love slip through my hands again.
It’s not until my front door slams closed behind her that it pulls me out of my fog.
What am I doing?
She’s leaving, and if she leaves this time, I won’t get her back.
Moving faster than I ever have before, I rush out the door, Kota on my heels.
MJ is halfway to her car by the time I make it out the door.
With long strides, I overtake her, wrapping her in my arms.
“Don’t go. Please don’t go,” I say, burying my head into her hair. Her cheeks are wet from the tears she held back inside the house. I lift my hand, wiping them away. “I love you, MJ, and I’m sorry. I just—I wasn’t ready for that. All this time, I thought he didn’t know—that he wouldn’t approve of me. And to find out he did—I didn’t handle it well.”
Tears still stream down her face.
“You’ve never chased me before,” she says, a shaky smile on her lips despite the tears.
“And I’ve regretted it every day. I won’t keep making the same mistakes with you, MJ. I might never get over the guilt of your brother’s death, but I won’t let you suffer anymore because of it. I’ll chase you to the moon if I have to.”
“Because you love me?” Mischief shines in her eyes.
“Yeah, baby, because I love you.”