Chapter 11 - Cade
The fire station is quiet when I arrive Monday morning, that peaceful lull between the chaos of Sunday night calls and the start of a new shift rotation. I texted the crew last night, asked them all to meet me here at nine. Didn't give them a reason, just said it was important.
My truck feels like it's driving itself, muscle memory taking over while my brain runs through different versions of this conversation.
None of them feel right. How do you tell the men who've been your family for eight years that you're leaving?
How do you explain that the life you've built with them, the one that saved you when you were drowning, isn't enough anymore?
Dallas's truck is already in the lot when I pull in, along with Hudson's SUV and Griffin's sensible sedan. The bay doors are open, and I can see Asher and Rowan inside, apparently having beaten me here despite both of them being notorious for sleeping in on their days off.
They know something's up. Of course they do. We don't do Monday morning meetings unless something serious is going down.
I kill the engine and sit for a moment, gripping the steering wheel.
Yesterday with Sierra and Ruby was perfect, showing them the waterfall trail, getting ice cream, watching Ruby's face light up every time she called me Dad.
We had dinner at a little Italian place on Main Street, and for those few hours, we felt like a real family.
Then I took them back to the Blackwater Inn, kissed Ruby goodnight, and stood in the hallway with Sierra trying to figure out how to say goodbye when neither of us wanted to.
"I'll call the old fire chief tomorrow," I'd told her. "See if there's any chance of a position opening up."
"And I'll start looking into what we'd need to do to enroll Ruby in school mid-year, just in case you can move before September." Her hand had been in mine, our fingers intertwined like we were afraid to let go.
"This is really happening," I'd said, more to myself than to her.
"This is really happening," she'd agreed, and then she'd pulled me down for a kiss that made me want to forget about propriety and follow her into that hotel room.
But Ruby was on the other side of that door, and we had time now. All the time in the world to figure this out.
Now I just have to tell my crew that I'm leaving them.
I force myself out of the truck and into the station.
The guys are gathered in the common room, coffee in hand, looking varying degrees of curious and concerned.
Dallas is leaning against the counter, his captain's face on, the one that says he's already guessed what this is about and is preparing himself.
"Morning," I say, grabbing my own mug and filling it from the pot. My hands are steadier than I expected.
"Morning," they chorus back, and then silence falls.
Nobody's making jokes. Nobody's ribbing me about spending the weekend with my surprise daughter and ex-girlfriend. The usual banter is noticeably absent, replaced by a tension that makes my stomach churn.
"So," Rowan says finally, unable to stand the quiet. "You going to tell us what this is about, or are we playing twenty questions?"
I take a sip of coffee, buying myself a few more seconds. Then I set the mug down and look at the five men who've been my brothers for eight years.
"I'm leaving," I say simply. "Moving back to my old town. Back to where Sierra and Ruby live."
The silence that follows is deafening. Asher's jaw drops. Griffin's eyebrows shoot up. Hudson just nods slowly, like he saw this coming. Rowan looks between me and Dallas like he's waiting for someone to say it's a joke.
Dallas doesn't look surprised at all.
"When?" he asks quietly.
"As soon as I can arrange it." I lean back against the counter, crossing my arms. "I'm going to call my old chief today, see if there's an opening.
If there is, I'll give you proper notice.
Two weeks, four if you need it. Time to find and train my replacement.
I'm not going to leave you in the lurch. "
"Fuck proper notice," Asher bursts out. "You're leaving? Just like that? After eight years?"
"Not just like that," I say firmly. "Nothing about this is 'just like that,' Ash."
"But you're choosing her," he continues, his voice rising. "Choosing them over us. Over the crew."
"That's not fair," Hudson cuts in before I can respond. "He's choosing his daughter. His family. That's not the same as choosing against us."
"Isn't it though?" Asher looks genuinely hurt, and that makes this so much harder. "We've been his family. We've been there for him when—"
"When I was a mess," I finish for him. "When I showed up here eight years ago running from my past. I know.
And I'm grateful, more than I can ever express.
You guys saved my life. All of you." I look at each of them in turn.
"But that little girl, she's my daughter.
And Sierra—" My throat tightens. "She's the woman I should never have left in the first place. "
"So, you're going back to the place that almost destroyed you," Griffin says, already working through the logistics.
"Yeah." I don't flinch from it. "I am."
"That's either the bravest thing you've ever done or the stupidest," Rowan observes. "I'm not sure which."
"Both, probably." I manage a weak smile. "But I can't ask Sierra to uproot Ruby's entire life if I'm not willing to face my demons. That's not fair, and it's not the kind of father I want to be."
"The kind who tortures himself?" Asher's still not letting this go. "Because that's what's going to happen, man. You're going to drive past those buildings every day and fall apart."
"Maybe," I admit. "Probably. At least at first. But I'll have support this time. Sierra, her parents, therapy. And I'll have a reason to keep fighting, Ruby. Everything I do from now on is for her."
"Noble," Griffin says dryly. "Also potentially catastrophic for your mental health."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence."
"I'm being realistic." But Griffin's expression softens. "I get it though. If I had a kid I didn't know about, I'd probably do the same thing. Doesn't mean it's not going to be hell."
"Nothing worth having ever is," Hudson says, and we all turn to look at him. He doesn't talk much, but when he does, people listen. "Cade's been running for eight years. Maybe it's time he stopped. Maybe facing it head-on is exactly what he needs."
"Or maybe it breaks him," Asher counters.
"Then we'll be there to pick up the pieces," Dallas says, speaking for the first time since his initial question. "Just because Cade's leaving doesn't mean we stop being his crew. Distance doesn't change that."
"Three hours isn't that far," Rowan adds, warming to the idea now. "We could visit. Make sure he's not completely losing his shit."
"I'd appreciate that," I say honestly. "Because I'm probably going to need you guys. All of you. This isn't going to be easy."
"Nothing in your life has ever been easy," Griffin points out. "Why start now?"
That gets a real laugh from me, and some of the tension breaks.
"How's the kid?" Rowan asks, changing the subject slightly. "Ruby, right? She seem cool with having you as a dad?"
"She's incredible." I can't help the smile that spreads across my face. "Smart, funny, fearless. Looks exactly like me, which terrifies Sierra. And she bonded with Scout in approximately three seconds, which has never happened with anyone else."
"Scout likes her?" Asher's eyebrows shoot up. "Your demon cat who hisses at everyone?"
"Ruby's apparently a cat whisperer." I shake my head, still amazed by it. "Scout was purring in her lap within minutes. It was surreal."
"That's actually kind of adorable," Rowan admits. "What else? What's she into?"
"Wants to be either a vet or a firefighter. Plays soccer, loves science, asks about a million questions a minute." The words come easily, and I realize I could talk about Ruby for hours. "She's got Sierra's kindness and apparently my complete lack of self-preservation."
"God help Sierra," Griffin mutters. "Raising a mini-you must be exhausting."
"She's managed for seven years." My smile fades slightly. "Seven years of doing it alone because I wasn't there."
"Because you didn't know," Hudson corrects firmly. "That's on Sierra, not you."
"Is it though?" I run a hand through my hair. "She made that choice because I was a mess. Because I left her and the town and everything we had. If I'd been stronger, if I'd stayed and dealt with my shit instead of running—"
"Then you might have dragged them both down with you," Dallas interrupts. "Or you might have resented them for trapping you there. Or a hundred other scenarios, none of which happened. You can't rewrite the past, Cade. You can only move forward."
"I know." I do know. Sierra and I talked about this yesterday, about forgiveness and second chances and not dwelling on the what-ifs. "I'm trying to focus on the future. On being the father Ruby deserves, the partner Sierra deserves."
"Partner?" Asher perks up. "So you and Sierra are… What, back together? After one weekend?"
"It's complicated," I hedge.
"Bullshit," Rowan says cheerfully. "You spent eight years celibate because of her. That's not complicated, that's 'completely and totally still in love.'"
"Did you—" Griffin starts, then stops. "Never mind, none of my business."
"We slept together," I admit, because there's no point in hiding it from these guys. "Yesterday, when Dallas took Ruby to the station."
"Called it!" Rowan crows. "I knew that's why Dallas offered to take the kid. He was giving you time to—ow!" He rubs his arm where Hudson just punched him.
"Show some maturity," Hudson says.
"I'm plenty mature. I'm just also observant." Rowan grins at me. "So? How was it? Eight years of buildup, that must have been—"
"Rowan." Dallas's voice carries a warning. "Maybe let's not interrogate Cade about his sex life."
"I'm just saying, eight years—"
"We're happy for you," Griffin interrupts loudly, shooting Rowan a look. "For both of you. And for Ruby, who gets to have her dad in her life."
"Thank you." I look around at all of them. "I mean it. Thank you for understanding. For not making this harder than it already is."
"Oh, we're definitely going to make it hard," Asher says, but he's smiling now. "You think we're just going to let you leave without a proper send-off? We're throwing you the mother of all goodbye parties."
"That's really not necessary—"
"It absolutely is," Rowan insists. "Eight years, man. Eight years of you being part of this crew. We're celebrating that, and we're celebrating you finally getting your shit together and going after what you want."
"Even if what I want is three hours away," I say.
"Even then." Dallas claps a hand on my shoulder.
"You've earned this, Cade. Earned the right to be happy, to have a family, to stop punishing yourself for things that weren't your fault.
We're going to miss you like hell, but we're also proud of you for finally choosing to live instead of just survive. "
The words hit harder than I expected, and I have to blink back the sudden sting of tears. These men, this crew, they've seen me at my worst, have pulled me out of dark places more times than I can count, and they're letting me go without guilt or resentment.
"I'm going to miss you guys too," I manage, my voice rough. "More than you know."
"We'll visit," Hudson promises. "Make sure your new crew is treating you right."
"And that you're not spiraling," Griffin adds. "Because we all know you're going to have hard days."
"Lots of them," I agree. "But I think… I think I'm finally ready to face them. With help, with support, with a reason beyond just making it through another day."
"Ruby," Dallas says with understanding.
"Ruby," I confirm. "And Sierra. And the life we're going to build together. The one we should have had eight years ago."
"Better late than never," Rowan offers. "And hey, at least now you know you can survive anything. Even three hours away from us."
"Barely," I say, but I'm smiling.
We talk for another hour, about logistics, about timelines, about how I'm going to approach my old chief and what I'll say to the crew I abandoned eight years ago. They offer advice, support, and the kind of merciless ribbing that comes from genuine affection.
By the time we're done, I feel lighter than I have in years. Leaving is going to hurt. It already does, but it's the right kind of hurt. The kind that comes from choosing growth over comfort, from choosing love over fear.
My phone buzzes with a text from Sierra.
**Sierra: Ruby wants to know if you can video chat later. She has something important to tell you about the fire trucks.**
**Cade: Tell her absolutely. 7pm?**
**Sierra: Perfect. Miss you already.**
**Cade: Miss you too. Both of you.**
I pocket my phone and look up to find five pairs of eyes watching me with varying expressions of amusement.
"That's the face of a man who's completely whipped," Asher observes.
"Yup," I agree cheerfully. "And I'm okay with that."
Because for the first time in eight years, I'm not just surviving.
I'm actually living.
And it feels damn good.