Chapter 7

The buzz of the bar patrons talking battered Bryce, making him dizzy. He clung to Rollo's leash, frozen in place.

"Walk him out, and I'll settle up," Matt said.

Bryce wobbled drunkenly as he followed Toby to the door. Three beers shouldn't have done that to him. They were almost at Toby's truck when he realized he needed to pay his own tab.

"I'll be back in a minute. I've got to pay my tab."

"Matt will get it."

Bryce shook his head. "No."

"You can pay the next time."

Toby laid a hand on the small of Bryce's back, his touch warm and firm. Bryce lost the desire to protest. Toby pressed against Bryce's back, encouraging him to move toward Toby's pickup. Fuck, they'd all have to squeeze onto the single bench seat.

They waited by the truck and Matt joined them quickly. Bryce didn't even want to contemplate what Mason would say about Matt paying his tab, but he'd deal with that later. His heart hammered as he climbed in after Matt. Their thighs pressed together, and he practically had to feel up Matt's ass to get his seat belt buckled. Rollo jumped into Matt's lap and licked his face, demanding attention.

"Sorry." Bryce tried to pull him back.

"No, I've always wanted a dog." Matt scratched just behind the ears, instinctively knowing what Rollo liked best.

Bryce let his dog revel in the attention and didn't say anything for most of the short drive to Matt and Toby's apartment. He should be embarrassed to be there. They weren't his personal confessors, and he wasn't sure he'd be able to talk now anyway. He was about to ask them to take him home instead, when Matt patted his thigh. "You okay?"

"Yeah." And he was. Something about that touch, friendly, not sexual, but incredibly reassuring, relaxed him.

Toby pulled into the parking lot of their small apartment complex, and Bryce followed them up the steps to their second-floor loft apartment. The units in the complex were each painted a different cheerful color. Theirs was Carolina blue, which didn't seem right a few blocks down the street from Duke's campus, but who was he to judge. He still thought red meant Bulldogs, not the NC State Wolf Pack.

He'd not put a lot of thought into what Matt and Toby's apartment would look like. Matt was always excessively neat at work, and Bryce didn't think he'd let Toby be a total slob, but he certainly would've assumed their place would be more college-boy casual than the pristine, stylish apartment he stepped into. They had a tiny foyer, and on the left, steps led to the loft, which appeared to be a single room with a railing looking down on the floor below. On the right, a hallway led to an open-plan living room, dining room, and kitchen. The walls were painted a color that was neither coral nor brown and managed to feel soothing and beachy. There was art on the walls, actual art, not just cheap posters. The only exception was memorabilia from the Durham Bulls and the Braves, Matt's touches obviously. Their place was small, but they'd made it a real home.

"My sister," Toby said, obviously realizing how disconcerted Bryce was. "The one who's majoring in interior design. She insisted on helping us."

Bryce was seriously impressed. Toby's sister—Jenna?—had talent. "She did a great job."

"Yeah, she did." Toby beamed, obviously proud of her.

"What can I get you to drink?" Matt asked.

"Whiskey if you've got it. Straight up," Bryce replied.

"Perfect. Toby?"

"Just a beer for me."

"Okay."

Bryce sat on one of the two sofas that faced each other, and Toby settled across from him. Matt returned with beers for Toby and himself. Bryce's drink was in an actual highball glass. "Wow. Real grown-up glasses too."

"Yeah, Jenna said we had to get real dishes too."

Bryce laughed. "I'll have to meet her sometime. She sounds impressive." Suddenly he realized the intimacy his comment suggested and hoped he hadn't overstepped.

"I'd love that," Toby said. "She'd like you."

Silence descended. Bryce knew he had to talk or it was only going to get more awkward. He tossed back his drink and set the glass down.

"Another one?" Matt asked.

"Not yet. But when I'm done, you should probably just bring the bottle."

"Whatever you need," Toby said. Matt nodded and settled beside Toby.

Bryce ran his hands through his hair and took a deep breath. If he was going to do this, he had to plunge right in. "We couldn't have saved them, the family in that house. I know that, but I still replay it every fucking day."

"There were bars on the windows?" Matt asked.

Bryce guessed he'd read about what had happened, maybe when he was still at the Academy and maybe after he found out Bryce was going to be the officer for his unit.

"Yeah. The neighborhood… it wasn't good. Lot of houses had them. Damn I wish to God they weren't allowed to. Better to be robbed than trapped like that."

Bryce leaned down and scrubbed his hands through his hair. His heart pounded against his chest, too hard, too fast. Was he about to have a fucking heart attack?

Toby moved to sit beside Bryce and laid a hand on his back. "You okay?"

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "It's… Fucking hell, it's hard to think about it."

"You don't have to," Matt said, moving to Bryce's other side.

Bryce nodded, acknowledging that. "I've gone this far. I might as well finish. I sure as hell don't want to start over." He drew in a shaky breath. Why did he feel like he had to do this at all, and why with these guys? He couldn't explain that. At least after they saw him looking so pathetic, they weren't likely to want him anymore.

"The fire had destroyed the kitchen and one of the bedrooms before we got there. The mother called it in, but instead of leaving the house, she went to get her children from their room. It was after midnight, so the kids were asleep. But once she got into their room, they couldn't get back out. The fire had spread down the hall.

"My unit was first on the scene. We tried as hard as we could, but the flames wouldn't quit. We knew the mother had refused to leave without her kids, and they weren't outside, so we were certain they were still in there. The heat outside the room where they were trapped was too high for the primary search team, and when we were able to go in for a secondary search, they found the bodies, a twenty-eight-year-old woman and her two children, ages six and four.

"If we'd gotten the fire under control faster… Or if we could've gotten into that window…"

"Bryce," Matt said, his voice low and serious. "Did anyone think you should have done something different?"

Bryce shook his head.

"Did you think you did everything you could?" Toby asked.

"Yes, but?—"

Toby interrupted him. "You did your job, and that's all you can do."

"They tried to get out, tried to break through the window. The woman's hands were around the bars when we found her and the kids. The little boy had his hands and arms wrapped around her leg, and the girl was across the room, like she'd run, like she was determined to find another way out. I just think about being trapped like that, knowing there was a way out but you couldn't access it, knowing that if only we'd gotten those bars off…"

Bryce dropped his head into his hands, fighting the tears that stung the backs of his eyes. He would not fucking cry in front of them, no fucking way. He hadn't cried since the night of that fire and he'd been drunk then, really goddamn drunk. He wanted to be that drunk again.

"Would now be a good time to bring that bottle?" Matt asked, as if reading his thoughts.

"Yeah." The word came out choked, and Bryce didn't dare look up. Rollo pressed his head into Bryce's lap, understanding he needed comfort. Toby stroked Bryce's back, the movement rhythmic and soothing. "Do you need anything else?" he asked.

Bryce shook his head, not ready to attempt words. Matt returned a few seconds later and set the bottle on the table in front of Bryce.

When he thought he could look at them without tears spilling over, Bryce drew in a slow breath and lifted his head. Matt and Toby were sitting close together on the floor by the coffee table, nearly touching. "Y-you guys want some?" He raised the bottle to indicate what he meant, inwardly cursing the weakness in his voice.

Matt glanced at Toby, and Toby nodded. "Sure. I'll get glasses."

Toby returned, and Bryce poured drinks for all of them. No one said anything for so long Bryce decided he'd made a huge mistake in spilling his guts. "Should I go?"

Toby's eyes widened. "What? No, we're just… We're honored that you felt like you could talk to us."

"I just made the night fucking depressing for you."

Matt shook his head. "No you didn't."

Bryce poured himself more whiskey, thinking how if he were alone he'd resort to drinking from the bottle at this point.

"Did it help? Saying it out loud?"

Bryce considered Matt's question, trying to force his now fuzzy brain to think clearly. The images in his head from the Atlanta fire still gave him a heavy, sick feeling in his stomach, but he didn't feel the need to flinch away from them like he had before. He wasn't at peace and he might never be, but… "Yeah, I think it might have."

Matt nodded. "Good."