Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Kace
We're home probably ten minutes before I hear someone roll up outside.
I'm in the recliner, leg out and head back, and still trying to cool down from the heat of the day combined with the sweat of exertion.
The AC is cranked and blowing, but between getting out of the car and then out of the wheelchair into the recliner, I feel like I've finished a marathon. Twice.
How is it possible to get so weak so fast? I hate to admit it, but my muscles are shaking and sore just from the little bit of exercise I've had.
This? This is not okay. And puts me even farther behind when it comes to returning to duty. How weak will I be after months in a cast? Will I get my range of movement back in my shoulder and neck? Reaching for Lindsey's hand earlier had cost me, and my shoulder and back are throbbing as a result.
A knock sounds at the door. Dani and Lindsey exit Dani's bedroom hand in hand to go answer it. Once we'd gotten inside and me in the chair, Dani had dragged Lindsey off to play.
I crank an eyelid to see who it is and attempt to muster some enthusiasm for my visitors.
Gabe steps inside, greeting Dani and Lindsey with a smile. He moves past them into the room when I hear Sully make a flirty remark about needing to break his leg so Lindsey can take care of him.
I give Sully my best glare, but he ignores me and continues to flirt with Lindsey. She's beautiful, no doubt about it. But I also think Sully's on such a comedic roll because firefighters get nervous when faced with the reality of their job. And me?
I'm that nonmobile reality, burns, broken bones and all.
But at least I'm not in the hospital anymore.
I'll swallow every freaking pill without protest to combat infection if it means staying out of that place. Or worse, having to go to a live-in rehab. A few weeks confined to a hospital bed was more than enough.
"McCallum!" Sully says when he finally takes his eyes off my—off Lindsey.
"Hey, Sully. What's your ugly mug doing here?
Shouldn't you be at the Pelican by now?" None of us could understand why Sully had suddenly developed a fondness for the greasy food at the Pelican, a combination dive bar and restaurant, but it wasn't long before we realized his fascination had more to do with the woman working the bar part-time in the late evenings—Violet Calloway.
"I'm not a stalker," he counters, sliding Lindsey a flirty glance. "It's close to my house and has good food."
"Yeah, that's why."
"Boys," Gabe says in his best chief's voice. "Now's not the time to be bickering. Kace, how are you doing? I'm sorry we got here too late to help you inside. The guys had a beach call. A four-year-old boy in a riptide."
"Did he make it?" I ask softly.
Gabe and Sully share another look, and I know there's more to the story. The bad kind of more.
"The kid's good," Sully says pointedly, sliding a glance at Dani.
"Hey, Dani," I say, "go to your room and grab your dinosaur pillow for me, would you? For my leg?"
"Okay, Daddy."
Dani takes off, and once she's out of range, Sully adds, "The dad died trying to save the boy. The lifeguards brought them in as we rolled up, but CPR couldn't bring him back."
It happens far too often on a beach every single year, but it never gets any easier. A happy family vacation turns into a nightmare, and the family is never the same. Left facing the same trip back home, reeling from grief and minus their loved ones. "Where were they from?"
"Here, actually," Gabe says. "The mom said they were playing right next to the shore because they saw the rip sign and thought they'd be fine. Then the kid ran to retrieve a toy and went down when a wave came in. He got sucked out, and Dad went after him. Happened fast."
"Always does," I mutter. My thoughts instantly turn to Dani and Mads. I've raised Dani as a beach native with all the warnings brought to my attention by my job, but she's a kid, and I wonder if the warnings will ever be enough. Ever sink in enough to keep her safe.
Now I have another worry. Madi is new to the area, and her arrival and all the drama that's come from settling in has left me reeling and neglectful. I've been lax in talking to her about safety stuff. That changes today. After the guys leave. After a nap. And after the family talk this evening.
"Lindsey, how's our patient? Is he giving you any trouble?" Gabe asks.
Gabe seems to sense my darkening mood and changes the subject. Not that it helps. I glance at the clock on the kitchen wall and wonder when Madi's shift ends at the bookstore.
"Not yet," she says, smiling. "But I'm sure that'll change with time."
I do a double take at the smile because that mischievous sparkle is back, at least momentarily.
But it does far more to distract me from the frustrating desire to gather up my girls and go into dad mode as far as protecting them when I can't even shift in the chair without pain.
Right now, I can't sit without pain. I feel like a grumbly bear with sore paws, and it makes me angry. Angrier.
"Well, you let me know if he gives you any trouble," Sully says. "I'll be over in a flash to set him straight and lend you a hand."
I glare at Sully again. "I'd like to see you try."
Sully laughs. "Dude, right now, all it would take is a finger to push you down. Don't forget that."
"Boys," Gabe says again, shaking his head at our bickering.
I can't help it, though. I don't like Sully's flirting with Lindsey. I also know I don't have a say either way. But Sully's been secretly crushing on Violet Calloway for as long as I can remember, so why is he suddenly making a nuisance of himself with Lindsey? And so what if he is? Why do I care?
"How about I go get some drinks? Maybe some iced tea? Water or lemonade?" Lindsey asks.
The guys give their requests for water, and I hear Dani running into the kitchen after Lindsey. The moment they're out of sight and hearing range, I round on Sully. "Do you have to flirt with every woman you meet?"
"I'm just being friendly."
"Friendly," I say with a snort. I stare at Gabe and jerk my head toward Sully, earning a searing flash of pain as a result.
Sully outright laughs. "Man, you're so easy."
I blink and then blink again. The pain definitely makes me feel muddled and prickly and out of sorts, but I'm not following.
"Dude, take advantage of this prime situation that's fallen into your lap," Sully says in a low voice. "Don't get all up in your grumps about it."
Up in my grumps?
"How are you really doing?" Gabe asks in a tone that won't carry through walls. "Pain manageable?"
"Yeah," I lie.
"Just remember how dangerous those magic pills can be."
I nod, because I appreciate the reminder from my best friend.
Not that I need one. Dani's mom jumped down that rabbit hole after a car accident left her with whiplash, and while she was off the pills now, they'd still destroyed our life.
She went from being an okay wife and mother to a nonexistent one more interested in herself and chasing a new high by cheating with the doc prescribing her the pills.
"Doc says I shouldn't be on them much longer. "
"Any word on how soon you'll be back in the game?" Sully asks.
I knew the question would come up. I just wasn't expecting it the day I'm released from the hospital. "Depends on how rehab goes."
"But you think you'll be back?" Sully presses.
Gabe just stares at me and waits for a response like Sully. Gabe and I were friends long before he became chief, but I can totally feel the chief sizing me up on whether he'll have to replace me.
The thing is? I don't know. I mean, off the cuff, my response is simple. Sure. I'll be back. But ever since getting caught in that fire, I've had nightmares and flashbacks. Even dreamed scenes where I don't make it out at all, and I feel myself burning alive. Feel my skin melting. Smell it burning.
And like it or not, that's not a scent that's going to go away anytime soon. Despite numerous sponge baths in the hospital, I still smell it. Sometimes I think I even taste it.
I shift in the recliner to try to get comfortable and flinch from the pain and the images in my head.
The nightmares and hurt shooting through me from the burns and broken leg.
That fire—as many fires as I've battled in my career—was the first to really remind me of my mortality.
And it's come with a cost I can't ignore, no matter how hard I try.
It's easy enough to gamble and enjoy the adrenaline ride when I'm not responsible for a family, but—I am responsible. Fully responsible since I'm not married. And not only for one kid but now two, both abandoned by mothers doing their own thing. They could've lost me. They could've—
I run my good hand over my face and try to rub away the wooziness mixed with frustration.
Dani's mother doesn't want to keep her even on a temporary basis because it might ruin her vacation plans.
I realize she's living her best single life, but that says everything, doesn't it?
She'd never want a kid impinging on those plans full-time should something happen to me.
Even if she took Dani in as her biological mother, an unwanted child is an unwanted child, and that's not something I want for my baby girl.
It's a reminder of how I wound up with Dani to begin with.
Custody was never an issue because Dani's mom cited her need for "time" and freedom to rebuild her life post-divorce and midrecovery.
So she'd walked away, like the end of our marriage meant the end of her being anything but a fair-weather mother who visits occasionally when the mood suits.
Not exactly how the whole parenting thing works.
It's not how any of this works, and for the first time, I'm really questioning my choice of career. I'm down for the count with the leg and burns, but what if it had been more? What if it had been deadly? Where would Dani and Mads be right now?
That question doesn't leave me. But for the first time, "later" stops feeling like a reasonable time to think about a safer future. Still, what's the alternative? Become a used-car salesman? Nothing wrong with the job, but it's not something I want to do day in and day out for the rest of my life.
I open my mouth to respond when Dani's giggle fills the room.
"We have cookies!" Dani says, entering the living room and balancing a plate full of store-bought cookies.
"Well, bring those right over here," Sully says, patting the coffee table in front of him. "But you'll have to get more for everyone else."
Dani's giggle shoots through me, and I revel in the sound.
She carefully carries the plate with her tiny hands and sets it on the coffee table, sneaking the top cookie for herself with a mischievous glance in my direction.
I don't point out the fact she seems to have forgotten all about the mission I sent her on, which was to get me one of her oddly shaped pillows.
"Lindsey, you need a hand?" Sully asks, standing and taking a step forward.
"No, no. I've got it. Sit down. Enjoy your visit."
Lindsey brings all three drinks at once, carrying the lot of them with her hands in a triangle of balance. She serves Gabe and Sully and then carries the last to me. "Thanks."
"No problem. Need anything else?" she asks.
Nothing I want to ask her to help me with, I think, aware of the growing need for the bathroom. "No, I'm good."
"Well, while you've got company here to keep an eye on you, I thought I'd take Dani to the bookstore and…you know."
Yeah, he did. She needs to tell Bronwyn she's moving out. And in with me.
"Can we get ice cream?" Dani asks around a mouthful of cookie. "Can I ride my bike?"
I falter at the question. Given my daughter's penchant for ignoring my commands to stop before going through stop signs, it's not a good idea. Lindsey is new to the whole kid thing. Will she be able to keep a close enough eye on her?
"How about we walk?" Lindsey counters. "So I can keep up?"
"Okay. But can we please go get ice cream?"
"Only one scoop if you listen to Lindsey and behave the entire time." To Lindsey, I say, "I'm not sure where my wallet is, but keep tabs of everything so I can pay you back."
"I've got this one," Gabe says, shifting on the couch to retrieve his wallet. "My treat."
I want to argue but know it won't do any good. Gabe spoils Dani every chance he gets as her pseudouncle and godfather. Kidless himself—at least for now—Gabe takes his spoiling duties seriously.
"You," Gabe says to Dani, "stay with Lindsey, and don't leave her side even for a moment. You hear me?"
"I won't. Thank you, Uncle Gabe," Dani says as she takes the money and gives Gabe a hug.
The girls head out, and I wait until I hear the door close behind them. I hate to ask, but—I'd rather ask the guys than Lindsey. That's a bridge I'll cross when I have to. "Sully, you're it. Help me up."
"Why? What's that mean?"
"It means I gotta hit the head, and since you're so ready to help out—this is all you, buddy."