America's Bravest (34 page)

“Hero of the day,
bombero,”
Gabe
said, toasting Tony with his coffee mug.

“
De nada
.” But it
was
something. It was the greatest feeling in the world and about the
only time he felt…capable. Like he was enough.

Felicia smiled. Because she lived in the
O’Malley duplex, she and Brody were the only ones so far who knew
he was living apart from his family. “It
is
a big deal,
Tony. And I’m gonna exploit your success.”

“With Parker Allen?” Brody asked. His face
was alight with confidence. A save made everybody feel like
Supermen—and women.

“Uh-huh.” Felicia was practically dancing
around the table. “I’m gonna write one hell of a blog on this,
complete with you puking your guts out afterward.”

“Up to no good again?” The voice came from
behind and Tony looked over to see Ryan O’Malley, Brody’s twin and
Felicia’s guy.

Without reserve, Ryan approached Felicia and
kissed her cheek. She eased away from him. “Not here,” she
hissed.

“Oh, yeah, I forgot. Sorry.” His eyes shone
with mischief and negated his apology. He stood close to her, too.
“Hey bro,” he said to Brody. Then he crossed to Tony, clapped him
on the back and smiled. “Great job, Ramirez. Amazing, really.”

“Tony?”

Ryan stepped to the side and Tony saw his
wife, still in her scrubs, in the doorway of the kitchen. Holding
Marianna’s hand. His daughter’s tear-stained face and frown alarmed
him.

“Soph? What…?”

Marianna broke away from her mother and
dashed toward him. He stood in time to catch her. He swooped her up
and she got a stranglehold on his neck, not unlike the little girl
he’d saved; her legs clamped around him.

“
Carina
, what’s wrong?”

She buried her face in his shoulder. And
started to quietly cry. His heart beating at a clip, he looked to
his wife.

“I’m sorry to bring her here,” Sophia said
wearily to him, then scanned the guys. “But she wouldn’t calm down
and I didn’t know what else to do. She saw the TV segment of your
rescue.”

“
Dios mio
.”

As he murmured to his daughter, Tony saw Gabe
cross to Sophia and slip his arm around her shoulders. “No problem,
Soph. I hope you feel free to come here anytime. And if there’s an
emergency at home, we can get immediate coverage for Tony in the
event of a call. Any officer can sub in a pinch.”

His wife seemed embarrassed. Her dark
complexion reddened. “I know.” She shrugged. Tony couldn’t tell if
she was trying to control her own fear and anger, or if she meant
what she said.

One by one, the group started to wander off
to give his family privacy. Sydney stopped to squeeze Sophia’s arm
while Tony sat down and settled Mari on his lap. “Can you let go of
my neck, sweetheart?”

His little one nodded, then gradually eased
her arms from around him. She looked up at him and her tearful
expression almost broke his heart.

Fuck, maybe he
should
quit this job.
Maybe being on the line
wasn’t
worth causing his daughter
this kind of trauma.

oOo

“Thanks for coming, Mr. and Mrs. Ramirez.”
Miguel’s teacher, Anna Pearl, smiled from across the table from
where Sophia and Tony sat. Sophia glanced around the room at the
brightly colored bulletin boards sporting student work, maps and
pictures on the wall. She didn’t feel good about being here,
though. They should have been home with Mari, but this visit
couldn’t be helped. Tony had kept their daughter with him until his
shift was over, taken her home, eaten chicken in paprika sauce, one
of Tony’s favorites, which Louisa had prepared, and by the time
they left, their little girl was excited to be watching an old copy
of
Finding Nemo
with her grandmother. Miguel had been in
his room.

“Of course, we’d come,” Tony said, always
polite, always respectful to teachers. Even though his job was
tough, he believed teaching was one of the most important
professions in society. “You said you wanted to talk about
Miguel.”

“Yes. His grades are slipping.”

“Miguel’s grades?” Tony’s shock was evident.
“He’s a straight-A student. And he loves school.”

Mrs. Pearl frowned. She was one of the good,
new teachers who was devoted to the job and had implemented a lot
of creative techniques into her instruction that Sophia
appreciated. “That’s why I’m concerned. Something’s bothering him.
He’s not causing trouble, but he’s aloof. He doesn’t play at
recess—he loses himself in a book instead—and his mind seems
somewhere else. I don’t mean to pry, but usually when things turn
around for a good kid like Miguel, something’s going on at home. Is
that the case?”

Sophia gripped Tony’s hand.

Tony squeezed her fingers, guessing she’d
feel guilty for causing Miguel’s issues. She was the one who
insisted on the separation. “His mother and I are having some
difficulties. I’ve moved out for a while.”

“Ah, I see. And I’m surprised. Miguel has
painted his family as indestructible. But that’s none of my
business. I assume he’s talking about this.”

“Not much to us. We’ve tried to get him to
open up.” Sophia’s voice was tinny even to her own ears.

“Maybe he should see a counselor.”

Sophia stiffened. She was against outsiders’
invasion of their privacy. Besides, there were other reasons she
wouldn’t get professional help, no matter how trusted or kind the
counselor seemed to be. “We don’t believe in that kind of
thing.”

Her husband didn’t agree, she knew, but went
along because he was aware of what had happened to her as a child.
So she was shocked when he said, “
Querida
, maybe we should
consider it for the boy. This is so not him.”

“We have a wonderful psychologist here at
school. Bonnie Campbell. She loves kids and works well with
them.”

“How old is she?” Sophia asked.

The teacher’s brow furrowed. “I’m not sure.
But she’s got grandbabies. Mostly, though, she’s good with
students. She does workshops in our classes about difficult topics,
and Miguel seems to like her.”

“I read the note she sent home when she gave
a presentation on the meaning of terrorism because the kids kept
hearing the term on TV,” Tony said. “It seems like a good program.”
He faced his wife. “What do you think?”

“Can we have some time to discuss this?”

Mrs. Pearl tried to hide her surprise. “Of
course. But I wouldn’t wait too long. Miguel’s floundering.”

“We’ll let you know soon.” Tony stood along
with Sophia. “Thank you for caring about my son.”

“And his family. I hope you two work this
out. In the few times we’ve met, you four have always seemed so
close.”

They left the school holding hands. Sophia
marveled at how connected she and Tony could be amidst this mess,
and the teacher had picked up on it. As they approached the parking
lot, the night air was cool and darkness had settled around them.
Stars dotted the sky, but Sophia couldn’t take pleasure in
them.

“Want to go home?” he asked. “Or we could get
a drink and talk.”

“Not home. Mama’s staying all night because I
have an early surgery. Let’s go for a drive. Park a while and
talk.”

They drove to Hale’s Haven, closed now for
the fall and winter. Like most firefighters and cops, Tony loved
the camp for the kids of slain firefighters and police officers,
and he and Sophia volunteered here when their kids went to summer
camps of their own. They parked the car down by the water and Tony
turned the motor off.

Silence. Then she heard him sigh next to her.
So she said, “I know he needs help.”

“So do you, Soph.”

That pissed her off. She felt her blood
pressure rise, and the rhythm of her heart pick up. “This isn’t
only my problem, Antonio.”

“I know. Let’s talk about Miguel.” He turned
to her in the dimness of the car and grasped on to a lock of her
hair. It was long and straight but curled on the ends, the way he
always liked it.

“I want what’s best for him, Tony. But a
school
counselor…”

“Baby, what happened to you was criminal. I
know. I was there to pick up the pieces.”

Though she tried not to think about the awful
incident, Tony had resurrected the memory. She envisioned herself
finding out she was pregnant, telling Tony and their parents, then
being sent to see her beloved school counselor in order to get into
the program for mothers and their babies. The man had assaulted her
and she’d gone to Tony with the story.

“This woman comes highly recommended,” Tony
continued. “And we can take precautions. Ask Miguel questions about
her behavior in the sessions without telling him why.”

“I guess.” His calm assurance, his reasoning,
his gentle concern for her brought on an overwhelming sense of
loss. She couldn’t remember a time when they weren’t together—or
foresee one when they weren’t.

“What’s wrong?”

She leaned over and buried her face in his
shirt. “I’m so sorry about all this. I wish I was stronger. I
practically fell apart when I saw you on TV. And in front of
Brock.”

“Who’s Brock?”

“Dr. Carrington. He was in the lounge where
there’s a TV, and he was watching the news when I went inside.”

“And what did Brock do to comfort you,
Sophia?”

Damn it. In some ways Tony was typical Puerto
Rican male, with the possessiveness and jealousy of one. “Nothing,
hombre.
You know how much I love you.
Tenecisito
.”

His anger abated at her profession. “I need
you, too. And I miss you.”

Swamped by sadness, Sophia felt physical need
well up inside her. She raised her mouth and pressed her lips
against his. He responded by tugging her closer. The kiss was
tender at first, comforting. Then desire took over and the contact
turned hot. His hands roamed her back, covered her breasts; his
mouth traveled to her neck. He mumbled words of love, as did she,
but she was filling up with fire and was about to explode. Images
of him in danger today conflated with images of a young boy
defending her honor, standing by her, marrying her at fifteen.

And when she lost the baby who caused the
hasty marriage… No she wouldn’t think about that. Instead, she let
her feelings take over. “Put your seat down,” she demanded
hoarsely. When he did, she came up on her knees, lifted herself
over the gear shift and straddled him. She was barely aware of
ripping at his belt, raising herself so his big hand could slide
beneath her skirt. He ripped off her panties, then he freed his
penis.

In an instant, she impaled herself on
him.

“Slow down,
mi amore,”
he said
against her mouth
.

“No, no slowing down. Hurry. I…
Dios
Mio
.”

Soon oblivion overtook her.

Afterward, after she’d come and he’d
practically exploded inside her, she lay limp against his chest.
They were almost prone and she could feel his heart beat a wild
tattoo. His hand brushed down her hair. The scents of their
lovemaking filled the confines of the car.

Neither spoke for a long time. Finally, he
said, “We always do this to make things better. I’m not sure it’s
helping our situation.”

“I don’t care,” she mumbled against his
sweaty skin. “I don’t care. I need you. I need to be connected to
you. Please, don’t take this away from us, too.”

“I won’t.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Battalion Chief Ian Woodward stood in front
of the class of seasoned firefighters and smiled sardonically.
“Welcome to the Academy. I know you’re all dying to be here for
training.”

As usual, Mitch Malvaso took the lead. “We
are, Chief. Right, ladies and gentlemen?”

All forty-five seasoned firefighters cheered.
Their enthusiasm was a sham—basically the group hated classroom
days—but they also revered Ian, who’d been a victim of the 9/11
terrorist attacks and was now in a wheelchair. He’d told them
teaching antiterrorism techniques made him feel like he was paying
the enemy back. Most of the multi-house guys here today were
willing students because of him.

Sitting next to Tony, Sydney yawned. She
looked tired today. He wrote on a paper, “You okay?” then slid it
to her.

She scribbled back, “Daisy’s having
nightmares. I slept in her bed.”

He grinned, remembering those days. Longing
for them in some ways, he mused, thinking of Miguel. That problem
was yet to be solved.

Ian began again. “So this class covers bomb
threats from terrorists and techniques to handle them. How many of
you have had training on bomb search and rescue and diffusion?”

Gabe had done a few things in their house, so
his group raised their hands. Ian asked Gabe to explain.

After Gabe’s summary, a big, beefy man with a
permanent scowl on his face raised his hand and began to speak. “No
offense, Chief, but we got the Hazmat Team housed at Engine 4 for
things like this. Why do we all need training?”

He heard someone mumble under their breath,
“Asshole.”

From three seats down, Casey Malvaso had made
the comment. Her husband Zach gave her a small smile. It was common
knowledge that the complainer, Ed Snyder, had transferred out of
Firehouse 7 when Casey came on board because he hated working with
women. He’d been called on the carpet a couple of times for his
misogynist attitude.

With the expertise of a diplomat, Ian said
easily, “Ed, calls come in all the time and we have no idea
Hazmat’s needed. Your group will go and you won’t know what you’re
walking into. Everybody needs training in what to do until
specialty teams get there—and afterward.”

Snyder grunted but shut up.

And Tony realized that this training meant
another responsibility for firefighters that would be another thing
for Sophia to worry about. Pushing thoughts of his wife from his
mind, he watched as Ian called up a chart on the screen in a Power
Point presentation, then rolled aside to give them a clear view.
“This is in your packet, too, so no need to take notes.”