Chapter 5

I've been sitting in this goddamn bed all day, seeing that look on Harlow's face when I asked her about Micah over and over and over again in my mind. And it's not the hard anger etched into her otherwise soft, round face that's bothering me. After the sort of acrimonious breakup she and Micah had, that's to be expected. What's bothering me and what I can't get out of my head is seeing the unmistakable shine of fear and pain in her eyes when I brought up my son's name.

Seeing that fear in her eyes tells me that Micah did something to her. Something awful. Something she can't or won't talk about. Something that still hurts her, even several years later. I know my kid. I know that he has zero motivation and has no real plan for his life. I know that all he wants to do is smoke, surf, and party with his friends. I try to tell myself he's twenty-three, and that's just how kids his age are. I keep hoping, however, that he's going to wake up and realize he's going nowhere and then do something to change that.

Aside from all that, I know Micah can be an asshole. He can be sarcastic. Vindictive. He has a horrible temper and is prone to saying some of the most fucked up things. God knows when he and I have gone at it, some really obnoxious, hateful shit has come flying out of his mouth. It's like his default setting. Especially when he's not getting his way about one thing or another. Micah can be rude and even cruel. He can be a bully. I know all this about my son and more.

I've learned to accept these things about Micah while continuing to hope that he changes. That he grows and becomes a better man. Until then, I'll continue to weather that storm. I've got thick enough skin to deal with all the slings and arrows Micah throws my way. But the thought of him turning that acidic tongue and hateful temperament on a sweet, innocent girl like Harlow fills me with an irrational and uncontrollable rage that I don't know what to do with.

"How long are you planning on milking this shit, LT?"

The voice pulls me out of my head, and I look up to see Darnell and a few of my men coming through the door. They're all warm smiles and greetings. Most of the guys from the firehouse have stopped by in shifts over the last few days as they've had time to check up on me and make sure I'm doing all right. Most of them have smuggled in food, bourbon, or some other illicit contraband that would give my doctors fits.

"It's good to see you assholes," I say.

"You too, LT."

That's Daniels, the newest member of my truck company. He's a good kid. Solid firefighter with great instincts and bigger balls than I think even I have. The kid isn't afraid of anything. Ordonez, Mack, and of course, Darnell, stand at the foot of my bed, talking and laughing, regaling me with stories of calls they've been on while I've been laid up. It's a reminder to me just how much I hate being stuck in this bed instead of out there on calls with my guys.

Laughing and joking with the guys is making me even more anxious to get the fuck out of here and get back to work. It's only been a few days, but I'm really missing being at the firehouse. I miss the guys and the camaraderie. More than anything, I'm already missing that rush of adrenaline I get whenever the bells go off. It's a high that's better than any drug. There's nothing even close to it.

"So, how much longer are they keeping you, LT?" Ordonez asks.

"Hopefully not much longer. I'm ready to go."

"Better manage your expectations," Darnell says. "You're still going to need to be cleared for duty by the department doctors."

"Like I can't badger and berate them into clearing me. They'll clear me just to get me out of their goddamn faces. I guarantee it."

Laughter erupts all around me, but when the door opens again, the room falls instantly silent. The small crowd parts as Harlow makes her way over to the bed. Her cheeks are bright red, and she's got her head down, doing her best to keep from making eye contact with the crew gathered in my room. All eyes are on her, though. She offers me a small, shy smile then looks down at the chart in her hand again, jotting down a couple of notes.

The air in the room is thick with a strained tension, the absolute silence making it awkward. I see the hungry, lustful looks on the faces of my guys as she does her thing, and it stabs me with a sharp lance of jealousy. I don't like the way they look at her. Their gazes linger on her like they're a pack of ravening dogs and she's a juicy piece of meat they want to devour.

I clench my jaw. Harlow is so small and delicate that standing next to the guys makes me think of Little Red Riding Hood surrounded by a pack of big, bad wolves. It's an image that only seems to be pissing me off even more than I already am.

"How is your pain level today?" she asks, her voice soft.

"It's fine. Better every day," I reply.

"How long until you kick his lazy ass out of here, Doc?" Darnell asks.

"Oh, I'm not a doctor. I'm just a nursing student," she tells him. "But I did hear the doctors say Lieutenant Weston was making significant progress and that if all goes well, he could be out of here in the next day or so."

"I'm sure you'll be glad to get this freeloader out of your hair," Darnell says.

"He hasn't been so bad," Harlow says with a mischievous grin.

"You say that because you obviously don't know him very well," Ordonez cracks.

Her cerulean eyes linger on mine. "I'll check back with you in a little while."

"I'll be here," I say.

Harlow turns and gives the fellas a nod before leaving the room. When the door closes behind her, Ordonez, Mack, and Daniels start oohing and aahing with each other while making suggestive remarks about Harlow.

"Hey LT, she give you a sponge bath yet?" Daniels asks.

"I'd happily let her give me one," Mack says. "With her tongue."

Mack's remark touches off a fit of laughter and even filthier comments among them all that set a dark rage bubbling in the pit of my belly. My pulse is pounding so hard in my ears I can't hear the rest of what they're saying. I don't need to hear it to know it's sexist and degrading. Not that I haven't made some of the same kind of jokes myself when I'm out with the guys, so I know I'm being hypocritical as shit, but hearing them talk that way about Harlow hits differently.

"Okay, knock it off," I growl. "Have a little fucking respect."

Mack turns to me, still grinning. "Come on, LT?—"

"I said shut the fuck up. I've known that girl for years, and I'm not going to sit here and let you all disrespect her like that, so shut the fuck up."

A chill descends over the room, making the smiles and laughter dry up faster than a puddle in the Mojave. The guys all exchange awkward glances.

"Sorry, LT," Mack mutters. "I didn't mean anything."

"Come on, fellas, let's get out of here," Darnell says. "The old man's getting cranky and obviously needs a nap."

"Get better quick, LT," Ordonez says then grins as he gestures to Darnell. "Truck ain't the same with this prick running the show."

"Be back before you guys know it," I say.

The guys say their goodbyes and shuffle out of the room, the good vibes from earlier seemingly restored. Darnell hangs back and gives me a strange look.

"What?" I ask.

He pointedly looks to the door and then back at me, a faux thoughtful look on his face.

"The nurse… Harlow," he says. "It only just hit me. That wouldn't be the same Harlow that was dating Micah a while back now, would it?"

"One and the same."

"Interesting."

"What's interesting about it? She's my nurse."

"It's just interesting the way you jumped to her defense," he says. "Not to mention the way you were looking at her when she was in here. She's also literally half your age."

"You're seeing things."

"Am I?"

A wry laugh spills from my mouth. "Shut the fuck up and get out of here."

"Kind of seems like you're playing with fire here."

I shrug. "Isn't that what we do for a living?"