Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

Jackson

Training went as smoothly as it could go considering the fact that none of these inmates had any sort of exposure to firefighter procedures before in the past.

I had to say, out of any of the groups we'd had come through here over the last few years, none of them had ever been as proactive as these guys were.

Sure, there was plenty of bumbling and knocking things over but aside from that, we had a good group this time around. It was rare to see so much cooperation among a bunch of criminals who were used to doing things in their own way, on their own time—which was most likely part of the reason they were even here in the first place.

But still, it was a nice change of pace for once.

I'd been careful to mind myself when walking around the groups as they'd broken up to practice what they'd learned, keeping a careful distance between me and Gonzalez for the time being.

Whatever had possessed me to walk up to him during breakfast and slather a bunch of burn cream all over him like I was trying to perform some type of fucked up version of a Thai hand massage had me frustrated.

And not just mentally.

Not just for my lack of boundaries that I'd been forcing myself to abide by since he got here, but because seeing his eyes widen at the sight of my fingers carefully moving along the ridges of his hand and working between the tendons had turned me on more than I'd expected it to.

What I wouldn't give to see that same expression while I ran my hands along his body, feeling out which parts of him were oversensitive and watching him squirm when I finally found them.

It was fucked up—all of it. Yet my mind had completely attached itself to the idea and no matter what I did, it continued to play over and over again. A non-stop loop that was driving me fucking mad. I kept rolling the fantasy over and over in my head as I made my rounds and steered clear of him and his friend.

What I actually needed to do was head to the bar after this and go get laid.

Clearly, I was pent up for whatever reason and needed to clear my head. Once I was done, I could come back to the station clear-headed and focused and not continue to obsess over a pretty little inmate that I was growing suspicious of being a sub.

Because what else would he be with how obediently he'd let me touch him and seemed to lean into the heat of my body so close to mine?

Ugh.

Fuck…

When the sun finally set, we called it enough for the night.

Inmates filed into the mess hall to grab dinner and settle down for the rest of the evening while I headed to the staff cabins to grab my things. During these programs, I tended to opt for staying on property. More as an ease of convenience than anything else. My house was more in the city and battling traffic everyday just to arrive at the ass crack of dawn was bad for my blood pressure.

Tonight, though, I'd stay in the city and deal with fighting my way back to the sticks in the morning. It was worth it in the end if it got me to stop focusing so heavily on Gonzalez and take my desires elsewhere.

A casual hookup hadn't ever failed me from working out my frustrations in the past.

"Going somewhere, Hall?"

I looked over to my colleague, Ryan, as we entered the staff section of the training grounds. "Yeah, into the city."

He raised a brow at me. "You're going back home for the night? That's rare."

"No, just the bar. You want to hitch a ride?"

He laughed and slapped me on the back on our way in through the doors of the main pavilion. "Not a chance. Last time I went with you, I could barely function the next day. You drink like a fucking ox and my liver can't handle that right now."

"Least I got you laid," I quipped back and headed into the locker room. Mine was toward the back of the row with a beat up looking door and a lock that liked to jam on me sometimes. I found mine and quickly rotated the dial for my combo.

"Yeah, as well as a concussion from falling face first on the pavement the next morning from my hangover."

"Hey, that was after your hookup," I pointed out. "So, I'm still taking credit for a job well done."

My locker creaked as I opened it. Stripping out of my gear and hanging it up, my shoulders began to relax instantly. Rolling them back a few times felt nice, along with my neck cracking on each side as I rotated it.

Next to me, Ryan pulled open his own locker. The bright fluorescent lights above us bounced off his bald head, still slightly slick from sweat from being under his helmet all day in the hot California sun.

Even though up here in the more forested parts of Sacramento was a lot cooler than in the city, we still got those massive heat waves that were brutal under all of our gear. These past few days we could get away with the bare minimum coverage but starting next week, some of us were going to need to gear up completely when the real training began.

"Have fun on your escapade," Ryan shot back. "Just make sure you're still functionally drunk when you come back tomorrow. Wouldn't want you to get burned like that inmate."

His chuckle had my hand clenching around the side of my locker door tight enough to hurt.

A harmless joke, that's all it was. There was no need for the sudden anger that flared through my chest. I probably still had some residual guilt left over from the incident brewing in me that was causing me to have such a knee-jerk reaction.

Gonzalez was fine.

Honestly, his hand looked almost healed aside from the still pinkened skin when I last saw it.

During training today, he hadn't made a peep at all.

Not that I was really paying attention to him to notice.

Still, he was an adult. If he really needed medical attention, he knew how to get it.

I ignored the small voice in the back of my head that whispered doubt about that—given his shy and passive nature. I had to trust that if there was something going on with him, either someone else would notice or he'd actually pull on his big boy pants and deal with it.

Chewing at the inside of my cheek, I slammed my locker shut a little harder than necessary.

"You good there, Hall?" Ryan raised a brow at me again.

"Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow," I said as I waved and headed back to my cabin to change into something more fresh and say goodbye to Roxy for the night.

I hadn't felt this kind of protective instinct over a man like Gonzalez in a long ass time and it was really beginning to throw me for a loop.

He reminded me so much of my cute little submissives that I loved to take back home with me from the clubs I frequented all throughout my twenties. Back then, I had a lot of misplaced emotions over what had been going on at home.

Being a young, gay college kid who'd been essentially disowned by his only parent had rocked my world more than I really ever realized until later in life.

I'd wanted to save the subs I took home. Do the one thing for them that I'd wished someone had done for me.

Learning the hard truth that not everyone wanted that had been a long and grueling lesson. In the end, I'd turned my passion toward firefighting, teaching new recruits, and rehabbing criminals through work placement programs.

It was better this way. It kept me busy and I got to see people strive to meet their goals and push them until they were across the finish line instead of trying to placate myself in another relationship with a doomed timeline.

Roxy growled happily at me as I entered my cabin, a toy stuffed in her mouth while her feet tapped against the hardwood floor. I swept my hand over her head a few times before shedding my sweaty clothes for something fresher.

Tonight was all about getting my head back on straight. No more of this obsessing over an inmate business.