All Fired Up (7 page)

Suddenly, what looked like an apparition materialized from the fire. A man in once-yellow protective gear lurched toward her. Then came another, and another. Relief swept through her, making her hands tremble as she kept the hose pointing to the area. The first man came up to her, clapped her on the shoulder, and signaled with his hand for her to retreat. He turned her around, and kept hold of her shoulder as they made their way outside into the murky, smoke-hazed sunshine. Once clear of the building, she turned, seeing that the other two men were following close behind them. The one in front took hold of the backpack hose she was holding and trained it on the other two men, then himself. The black soot ran in rivulets down their suits. She was alarmed to see steam rising from some exposed parts of their suits, like the shoulders and sleeves. The special fabric looked as though it had actually melted in parts.

“Radio?” She was shocked to hear Warner’s voice. She’d thought the man who’d held her shoulder as they exited was Dave. “Quick, gimme the radio!”

She pulled it from her pocket and handed it to him. He changed the channel to the Dispatch Center and called for an ambulance, and a Code 1 fire unit, to come to the site. The other two men went to the broken fire hydrant, removed the threaded attachment, and replaced it with another from the truck. They soon had the main hose re-connected, and hauled it back inside the now fiercely burning building, while Warner manned the levers and talked on the radio.

Her head was spinning. What’s going on? Why are they going in again? Warner finished on the radio, and then she heard the wail of sirens. An ambulance arrived, followed closely by their other fire truck. Sheldon jumped out of the cab and ran over to where she and Warner were standing. She froze on the spot when she heard Warner speak to Sheldon.

“Dave’s still in there. We ran out of water, then the roof came down, pinning him under a heavy beam. Jones, Jerry, and me were trapped. Luckily, Reece came in with the hose pack and put the flames out enough for us to get out. The boys’ve gone back in for Dave.”

She held her breath, unable to let it go. She felt a heavy hand on her shoulder.

“Cindy?” She looked into Sheldon’s red, sweaty, and worried face. “You OK?” She nodded. “Right, stay here with Warner. Follow any instructions he gives you. The rest of us will go in and get Dave.”

She unclipped her breathing mask and let it fall to her chest. Raising her visor, she became aware for the first time, of the chemical stench oozing from the burning building. Her eyes stung as the smoke seeped into them, and unchecked tears flowed from her eyes.

“Put your visor down and pull your mask up again. It’ll stop the stinging.”

With shaky hands, she did as Warner told her, but her tears didn’t stop. They weren’t flowing because of the smoke; she knew that for sure. The next half-hour—or maybe hour, she didn’t really know—crawled by slowly. Warner efficiently manned the water pressure of the hose with one hand, while with the other he maintained constant radio contact with the guys inside. She felt superfluous, just standing there. Guilt seeped into her mind. Was it her fault? Did her inexperience with the hydrant cause this tragedy? What if Dave was…? A shiver ran through her and she felt faint.

“Reece?” She heard her name. Warner was looking intently at her. “I need you to get into the cab and monitor the dispatch radio. OK?”

As if in a trance, she did as she was told. Sitting there, she listened to conversations going on all around town, between all the emergency services. For a moment, she thought that maybe Warner had told her to do this to get her out of the way. But in her heart, she knew it was because he could see she needed to sit down before she fell. Despite all the bad blood between them, she had to admit that Warner was a good firefighter—efficient and experienced—and he was able to put their differences aside when it came to the important things about their job. It was odd, she thought, that she was now feeling admiration for the man who had caused her so much grief when she first started. Despite her worry about Dave, she was glad the tide had turned with Warner.

She jumped when a heavy thud hit the door of the truck. She looked out to see Warner pointing to the entrance of the building, where a team of firefighters was carrying out a stretcher with a heavy load. A sharp breath stuck in her throat. Lifting the lever of the truck door, she climbed out and landed on the ground. Ambulance officers, carrying boxes of equipment, raced over and began examining Dave as he was carried out. When they were a safe distance from the dangerously fragile building, the firefighters put the stretcher on the ground next to the ambulance, and stood back to let the paramedics do their job.

Her knuckles, white from clenching her fists, hung rigidly at her side. All she could see were his legs and big black boots, the yellow of his trousers blackened and smoking in places.

“He’s alive, Cindy.” She hadn’t heard Sheldon come over to her. “He’s suffered some bruising and a possible fracture of one arm from the beam that fell and pinned him down, but he’s gonna be OK.”

It took a minute or so for Sheldon’s news to sink in. She’d thought Dave was dead. Or at the very least, burnt or had inhaled too much smoke.

“He’s an experienced firefighter. He kept his breathing apparatus on, and his protective gear basically saved him.

“But the radio. I tried to get him on the radio.”

“Ah, now that’s a fatal, I’m afraid. The radio was totaled by the falling beams.”

Her shoulders slumped and she felt dizzy. Managing a small smile at Sheldon’s attempt at humor, she looked up into his face. “Thanks.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

He put a hand on her shoulder. “Come on. I’ll take you over to see him.” Sheldon gently but firmly led her over to where the paramedics were preparing to load Dave into the back of the ambulance.

“Dave. It was Reece who put out the flames to let the others escape.”

He peered at her, his eyes half hidden by an oxygen mask, his face blackened. One arm lay across his chest in a big bandage. He raised his other hand slowly and gave her the thumbs up. Next thing, he was put in the back of the ambulance and driven away.

Sheldon tapped her on the shoulder. “Go back to the station with Warner now. The rest of us’ll finish up here.”

In a daze, she walked over to the truck. Warner, his helmet now off to reveal his bright red face, opened the door for her. She climbed up into the truck and the door shut tightly behind her. She stared out the windshield at the still smoldering building, hardly noticing Warner climb into the cab and kick the engine into life.

They drove in silence back to the station, the dispatch radio still crackling with voices. Warner reached over and turned the volume down low.

“No need for us to have to listen to that now.” Warner sounded different—almost friendly. He cleared his throat, then continued.

“Reece…um, I owe you an apology. Several apologies actually.”

She said nothing, unable to find any words to make this moment easier for both of them.

“Look, I’ve been a total jerk. You didn’t deserve it. You’re as good as any man.” He hesitated for a moment. “I-I’m sorry.” He took his eyes off the road ahead for a moment and looked at her. She turned and, seeing the genuineness in his eyes, nodded.

Chapter Six

On the third morning after the fire at the factory, Cindy arrived at the station, parked her car, and walked up the hallway to stow her bag and grab a coffee. As she was about to pass by Dave’s office, his large frame filled the doorway, surprising her.

“So, not gonna stop in and ask how I am, eh?”

Her mouth hung open as she stared at him, not expecting him to return to work so soon. His well-tanned face shone from a recent shave, and his eyes seemed to glow emerald green. He wore his usual blue trousers and white T-shirt, but his left arm was resting in a sling. One eyebrow rose as he inspected the shock his appearance caused her. “Don’t like what you see, huh?”

With an effort, she closed her mouth and tried to look nonplussed, doubting very much if she succeeded. Still unable to speak coherently, she stared at him, wishing he would stop looking at her with his amusement evident, as a small smile lifted one corner of his mouth. She stared at his lips, a sudden impulse to kiss them overwhelming her.

She tore her eyes away from him and glanced up and down the corridor. Nobody there. With one stride, she was in his office, and heard his door shut with a bang. Dropping her backpack on the floor, she flung her arms around him, holding him tightly to her.

“Hey, hey, steady. I’m wounded you know.” His one good arm wrapped around her and he pulled her close, lowering his head to her upturned face. His kiss was gentle at first, then hungry. She tried to hold back her tears, but they rolled out of her eyes and dribbled down her face. He pulled back, looking intently at her, then kissed her tears.

“Dave.” Her whisper, shaky and muffled, was all she could muster. He kissed her again, gently, as though she were a child.

“I’m OK, Cindy. Really.” His voice was thick with emotion. “Look, I need to see you—need to talk to you—soon. Can I see you tonight?”

“Yes.” Before she could say anymore, there was a brief knock on his office door, then it swung open. She and Dave sprung apart, but Sheldon was already in the room. He looked shocked and embarrassed as he stood there holding a plate bearing a cake with amateurishly applied frosting, emblazoned with ‘Welcome back Dave’.

“Um. Sorry for barging in like that. Didn’t realize you were, um, here already.” He looked at the ground. “Rosie made this for ya, Dave. Made me bring it in so we could all share it at coffee break.”

Dave reached over and clasped Sheldon’s shoulder. “Thanks buddy. Give Rosie a hug from me. I really appreciate it.”

Cindy saw her opportunity to go, so she picked up her bag and went to the door. “See you later, guys.” Feeling the flush of embarrassment creep rapidly up her neck and face, she exited without a backward glance. Hopefully Sheldon would keep what he’d seen to himself.

The day went slowly, the clock creeping sluggishly toward knock off time. At last she was able to get away, and drove home, excitement building as she pondered what the evening ahead would bring.

She showered and took care with her hair. Choosing a flattering dress and matching stilettos, she dressed slowly, checking herself in the mirror often. He always saw her in her work clothes—or in none at all. Tonight she wanted to look feminine, beautiful, for him. Not long after she finished applying her makeup, the buzzer sounded from the entrance to her apartment block. She jumped up and pressed the button.

“Hi. Come on up. Number 223.” Without waiting for his reply, she went to the refrigerator and put the bottle of Moët in a silver ice bucket, grabbing two tall flutes from the cupboard. A few minutes later, the doorbell rang, and she quickly opened it, a broad smile spread across her face.

She froze as she stared into brown eyes, a smirk on the face of the man standing before her.

“You should be more careful, you know. It could’ve been anybody at all you let in.”

Her breathing halted as she gaped at Pete Monaghan.

“Well, honey, aren’t you gonna let me in?” He pushed past her, entering her apartment, and looking around as if he was a potential buyer, inspecting everything in the room.

Eventually she found her voice. “What the fuck are you doing here, Pete?” Bubbles of anger started to build within her, her voice low and menacing. “Who told you I live here?”

He rounded on her, narrowing his eyes as he looked into hers, then traveling down her body, taking in the low-cut dress, her slender waist, then gliding over her tanned, smooth legs.

“Aw honey. Aren’t you glad to see me?” He stepped close and rubbed the back of his finger down her cheek. In a flash, she whipped his hand away with hers, and glared at him.

“Get out! Right this minute!”

He took another step closer and grabbed both her shoulders. “Now don’t be like that! What’s got your feathers ruffled, baby?”

She twisted out of his grasp, rounding on him, her eyes blazing and her face flushed. “You know damn well what’s got me pissed with you! Who took that photo, and who gave it to someone at Hillwood?”

For a fleeting second, he looked less sure of himself, then, recovering quickly, his plastic smile again graced his face. “No idea what you’re talking about, baby…”

“Cut the shit, Pete. And don’t call me baby.” Waves of anger and newfound confidence caused her voice to rise. “You think it’s OK to do that? You seriously think it’s funny?”

“Hey, I just wanted a little…souvenir.” She shifted her eyes from his face and took in his puny physique in the tight T-shirt and jeans. Being a tour guide obviously didn’t require him to workout, she thought. She glowered at him with loathing and repugnance.

“Who took the fucking photos?” Anger seethed within her, her voice raised now in fury, the disgust she felt for him overwhelming. He heart raced as she stared him down, her face close to his while she prodded him hard in the chest with her finger. Did she imagine it or did his eyes suddenly flick away? Hmm, she thought, he’s actually frightened of me.

With lightning speed, she reached up and grabbed the neck of his T-shirt, scrunching it up in her fist, and forcing his head up. “Answer me!”

“It was just one of the other recruits.”

“Who?” She tightened her grip on his shirt, twisting it. “Who was it, goddamn it?”

Pete made a grab for her, pulling her face even closer, his lips clamping hard on hers as he held her in a vice-like grip with one hand, the other diving up under her short skirt, trying to touch her pussy. She let fly with a left hook, connecting with his chin at the same time her knee jerked briskly and solidly up into his balls. He reeled from the shock and pain, eyes bulging. No noise escaped his open mouth, his face contorted in agony.

Loud footsteps thundered up the stairs and, shaking, she turned slightly to see Dave take one giant step into the room. Relief overcame her as she watched Dave pick Pete’s crumpled body up by the scruff of the neck, and propel him down the stairwell of the apartment building. Pete landed with a crash on the next landing. Dave went after him, his jaw set hard.