1. Raven #2
It takes seconds for him to crack. “I started the fire.” His voice is soft, like he thinks being all sweet will get him out of trouble.
I open my mouth to give him hell, but Sawyer holds up a hand, cutting me off. I’m not good at this stuff. This was usually Kris’s department. So I’m actually thankful for the assist.
He squats down in front of Jonah. “Hey, buddy. What’s your name?”
“I’m Jonah.”
“Hi, Jonah, I’m Sawyer Bett, but everyone just calls me Chief Sawyer.” He holds out his hand, but Jonah just stares at it. He recovers quickly, his gaze turning toward me, a flirty smile on his face. “And you are?”
I narrow my eyes, unsure how introductions will help. “Raven.”
He turns back to Jonah. “Jonah, I understand the fascination with fire. I do.”
“You do?”
“Yeah.” He points at the team behind him putting out the last of the embers. “We’re all just big kids who liked playing with fire when we were little. But now we know how to do it safely.”
Jonah perks up. “That’s so cool.”
This is all I need, some asshole firefighter telling my kid playing with fire is cool. Jonah’s on the spectrum and takes everything literally.
The chief holds a finger up as if to silence me. The nerve of this guy.
“But you should know how incredibly dangerous this was.” He gestures to the ashes that used to be my oasis. “You could have burned the whole house down. Someone could have gotten hurt. Or worse.”
“I think we get the point,” I say, cutting him off before he can bring up the D word.
My kids still struggle with their father’s death, and I don’t need this smug prick reminding them.
I turn to McKenna. At ten, she’s only eighteen months older than her brother, but she’s so mature, I often forget that.
“Why don’t you two go play on the swings so I can talk to the firefighter? ”
Jonah takes off for the play set, shouting behind him, “Dibs on the good swing. Come push me.”
McKenna offers me a conciliatory smile. She’s run interference for me so often, she’s used to this by now. I hate that I have to depend on her help so much, but she knows Jonah better than anyone.
Once she rounds the corner of the house, I turn on Mr. Smug Smile.
“While I appreciate your quick response, I’ve got it from here.
They’ve been through a lot the past few years after losing their dad, and Jonah is on the spectrum so the last thing I need is you talking about death and setting him off. ”
“Sorry, I didn’t know.” He looks so sincere I almost feel bad for coming at him so hard.
Fuck, this is awkward. I glance behind him, anxious to hurry this along. “Is there anything else you need from me? Any paperwork I need to fill out? If not, I need to get back to work.”
He rubs at the back of his neck. “We have a junior firefighter program for kids. It teaches all about fire safety. It might be worth looking into for him.” He nods in the direction Jonah went.
“Thanks, but we’re good. I don’t need some man telling me how to raise my kid. We’ve gone over fire safety before.”
There. That should do it.
Instead of taking my not-so-subtle hint, he just stands there with a goofy grin on his face. “Think about it.”
Why is he smiling at me? Can he not take a hint? Do I have something on my shirt? I look down to assess. Nope, all clear.
Something churns in my gut, and I rub my stomach, hoping it passes. The longer he stares at me, the faster my heart races. I feel out of control.
I mean, he’s not bad to look at. A ridiculously charming smile that lights up his whole face each time he flashes it, exposing the wrinkles around his mouth.
Light blue eyes that feel like he’s truly seeing me.
I don’t like it. Wrapping my arms tighter around myself, I shake off the foreign sensations bubbling inside of me as I stare him down. “Are we done here?”
He opens and shuts his mouth several times as if he wants to say something and thinks better of it.
“House is clear, Chief,” one of the guys calls over his shoulder.
I glare at him. “You went in my house?”
He holds up an instrument. “No, ma’am. Just ran my thermal imaging camera along the porch to check for hot spots. All clear.”
All the air I’d been holding in escapes in relief. I don’t like strangers in my space.
Chief Sawyer clears his throat, getting my attention. “If you need any help—”
“I don’t need your help.”
He hands me a card. “If you change your mind, that’s how you can reach me.”
Once the crew loads back onto the truck, I let out a deep sigh and turn back to my house.
I need to get back to writing, but the flow is gone, so I sit on the porch next to my charred swing.
There’s nothing in my head except that stupidly handsome fire chief and his slutty little mustache.
I don’t even like mustaches. They remind me of seventies porn stars.
I only give them to my heroes because readers like them so much.
I need help. Clearly, I can’t keep up with all of Jonah’s needs if he’s setting fires to get my attention. But he demands so much of my time that it’s hard to balance both kids, my books, the newspaper, friendships, and time for myself.
“MOOOOOM!” McKenna shouts, running around the side of the house. The instant I see her face, I know something’s wrong. “Mom. Fire. Back of the house,” she pants.
“Where’s your brother?”
She shakes her head, holding up her hands in a silent effort to let me know he’s fine. “He’s fine. Out back.”
I race around the house and see Jonah on the swing, blissfully unaware of the massive flames licking up the side of the house as a plume of dark smoke rises from the roof.
“Shit!”
“Shit,” Jonah parrots.
I don’t even have time to correct him. I dig the card out of my pocket and frantically dial the number.
“This is Chief Sawyer.”
“It’s Raven. I need your help.”
“I knew you’d c—”
“My house is on fire.”