Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 73794 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73794 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
“That sucks.” I stepped closer, risking putting a hand on his shoulder. “And I get it. Here, we talk more about the hard calls, but there’s still a line I know not to cross with most of the crew. Keep it topical, don’t be too emotional, store sentimentality for later, be a professional.” I rattled off a summary of the advice I’d heard over and over, from my dad to his friends to the fire academy to Sean. While we all supported each other on the crew, there was an unspoken agreement to not dwell on the bad things.
“Exactly.” Tony turned to peer closely into my eyes. “And sometimes it’s harder to let a particular mission or call go. Like tonight?”
“Yeah.” I exhaled, shoulders relaxing and knots in my gut loosening. “Apartment complex fires are always hard because they can spread fast and be highly unpredictable. Plus, there’s all the people for us to manage, like victims, residents, and bystanders, along with the scope of the blaze. And this particular complex had a lot of non-English speakers. We sent for Russian and Spanish translators, but time was also a factor in needing to get everyone out.”
“That sounds tough. I’ve been there with a language barrier.” Mimicking my earlier gesture, Tony squeezed my shoulder, but where I’d quickly dropped my hand, he started a light massage. “Do you know what caused the fire?”
“Likely faulty A/C wiring made worse by an extra-dry July.” I leaned into his touch.
“But everyone made it out?” he asked with the gravity of someone who knew loss all too well.
“Yeah.” I could have left it at that, but having someone to talk to about the hard parts was a rare gift. I paused, trying to figure out how to explain the thing that haunted me the last few hours. “You ever scare someone? Like a kid being frightened of the uniform, I mean?”
“Oh.” Tony’s eyes widened with understanding. “Yeah. Part of the job, but I hate it.”
“Me too. We had to go from apartment to apartment to get folks to evacuate. There were two kids home alone, maybe twelve and nine. We needed to get them out right that minute. No time to waste as they were closest to the spread of the fire. But the kids were terrified of us.” I swallowed hard, hating every bit of this memory. “Not only the fire. Us too. Our turnout gear, all of it. The younger one wouldn’t let me come near him, and I finally had to just grab him and go when Sean ordered me to pick him up.”
“Been there.” Tony tightened his grip on my shoulder, his own voice going rough. “The moment you realize you’re the reason they’re screaming…” Trailing off, he looked away for several long seconds. “Yeah, it sucks. No easy way about it.”
“Usually, I’m pretty good with people.” I wasn’t sure what I was justifying, only that the incident had left a deep bruise on my soul. “Kids. Cats. Dogs. Whatever needs rescuing. But seeing those kids so scared of us really messed with my head.”
“Trying being the one holding a weapon.” Tony’s voice was dry as kindling wood.
“Fuck.” I drew the word out. My gear might be frightening, but Tony’s job was a whole different level of scary and deadly. “Yeah, that would be hard.”
I was undoubtedly underplaying it, and Tony merely nodded, eyes keeping a faraway look.
“If you ever want someone to talk to about stuff that happened out there, I’m not some active-duty psych. I won’t judge, and I won’t repeat it.”
“Thanks.” Tony returned to counting items in the med kit, going silent for so long that I assumed the topic was dropped, but then he looked up. “I think the worst thing is feeling like emotions are dangerous.”
“Yes, that’s totally it.” I came up behind him, needing the contact as much as this conversation. “Like you need to push down the rough days, minimize the hurt and toll they take.”
“And everyone acts like strength is not letting any of it get to you.” He leaned back against me, and I wrapped my arms around him. Dangerous territory but need outweighed risk.
“From where I stand, you’re pretty damn strong.” I squeezed him tightly. “And you’d be even stronger if you talked to someone about the stress symptoms. Me. Someone. Keeping it bottled up isn’t healthy.” I breathed in his scent, absorbing as much of his nearness as possible. “Talking to you helped me tonight.”
“Me too.” Tony tipped his head back, making my lips graze his earlobe. “I’m sorry it was hard, but honestly, it helps a little to know others have had that issue with scaring the people they’re trying to help.”
“I have to believe intentions matter.” I met his gaze, trying to will him to be gentler with himself and to keep talking to me.