Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Preston chuckled. “When is she not upset?”
The door opened and Jake walked in. He looked refreshed and wore a smile on his face.
“Hey, sleeping beauty. How are you feeling?”
Giving Jake a fake smile, I tried to give him peace of mind that I was somewhat okay. Once I had calmed down after learning about TJ, I knew almost immediately that Trey had also died in the wreck, only to have Jake confirm it for me. My crying had given way to exhaustion, then sleep. I’d woken up off and on and, at one point, heard Preston telling Jake to go get a few hours of sleep.
“What time is it?” I asked as I glanced back at Preston.
Pulling out his phone, Preston said, “It’s five thirty in the morning.”
Squeezing his hand, I smiled bigger. “Preston, go home to your girlfriend. I promise you, I’m all right.”
His eyes searched mine. He knew I was lying, but he nodded and said, “Okay. But I’ll be back later to check on you and Jake.” Preston looked over at Jake, who gave a wide grin and a thumbs-up to Preston.
Oh yeah. My brother was for sure trying his best to put up a front. I didn’t have the energy to even think about it.
“Sounds good,” I said as I closed my eyes and let sleep take over again.
I was soon lost in the most amazing dream. I was chasing TJ in the backyard as we played chase.
My baby. I miss my baby.
Chapter 4
Falling Apart
Preston
Walking through the front door, I dropped my keys on the small table. The kitchen light was on, as was the one in the living room. Sherry came walking around the corner wearing nothing but a long T-shirt of mine that she liked sleeping in.
“It’s about damn time, Preston. What in the hell? You have never gone and stayed at the hospital like this. I mean, what does this family think of you hanging around?” Rolling her eyes, she walked up to me and scrunched up her nose. “Son of a bitch. You stink. Go take a shower and we’ll talk.”
Pushing out a breath, I walked past her. “Nice to see you, too, Sherry.”
“Oh, don’t even lay a guilt trip on me, buddy. I took the time to go pick up dinner, set it all up, get dressed in a skimpy new dress, and—hell, I even lit candles, for Christ’s sake. And for what? Nothing! You decided you wanted to play pity party with some chick who got in a car wreck. What, were you fucking her before the accident or something, you asshole?”
Gripping my hands into fists, I turned and walked up to her so fast she began walking backward until she hit the wall.
“I couldn’t save her eighteen-month-old baby. Her husband died and all she has is a brother who is so fucking freaked out he couldn’t even tell her that her son died. I had to be the one who told her. Me! The fucking firefighter she begged to save her son’s life had to be the one to tell her I failed. I failed to save her baby. Failed!”
Sherry jumped when I screamed out “failed.” “So don’t stand here and give me some goddamn sob story about what a fucked-up night you had. And no, Sherry, I wasn’t fucking her. I didn’t even know her name until yesterday.”
Spinning around on my heels, I stormed into the bedroom and to our bathroom. Slamming the bathroom door shut, I stripped out of my clothes and walked into the shower. The water was hot and felt good on my aching body.
Closing my eyes, I stood there and tried to block out her screams. Block out the look in her eyes when she found out her son and husband had died.
Sherry’s arms snaked around my waist. Grabbing her, I pushed her against the wall and kissed her. I needed to forget. Even if it was just for a few moments, I needed it all to go away. I lifted Sherry up, and she let me do what I needed to do.
Forget.
—
Walking into the firehouse, I looked around. Everyone was moving about their business like normal. Making my way to the bunkhouse, I tossed my bag onto my bed and dropped down as I let out a sigh.
Sharp, another firefighter and one of my best friends, stuck his head around the corner and shouted, “Ward, Cap wants to see you right away.”
I stood and said, “Thanks, Sharp. I’ll be right there.”
Giving me a quick nod, he turned to leave but stopped. “Preston?”
Looking back at him, I said, “Yeah, what’s up?”
When he looked away briefly, I knew what he was about to say he had been struggling with probably all day. Mitchel Sharp and I had started here at Firehouse 37 together. Same day, same scared look in our eyes.