Chapter 18

18

Silas

I walk into work on Thursday morning, still not feeling right about the conversation with Myles the other day. Thankfully, Kara had to work late that night, then wanted to work on her music for a show she has on Friday, so I haven’t seen her since I dropped her off after our trip. It’s killing me, not being with her, but I also don’t know if I could have played off how bothered I was.

In my line of work, I’ve seen all kinds of destruction, even in the short amount of time I’ve been here, and it was pretty easy for me to decide I didn’t want kids, but it never crossed my mind what that really meant.

I never imagined finding someone I’d even think about settling down with, but Kara is making her way into my heart so fast that I’m not sure I can stop it. Actually, I’m not sure if I could even if I tried.

Kids were the absolute last thing on my mind when we spent time together, but Myles is right. She probably is thinking about wanting kids one day.

So, how do you tell someone you just started dating that you don’t want kids?

I pour myself a cup of coffee and stand in the kitchen, staring down at my phone, aimlessly scrolling through social media.

“Morning,” Asher says.

I don’t respond, just nod my head.

“What’s up with you? Did the happiest place on earth not go too well?”

“It was fine.” I push off the counter and head to the other room, not wanting to talk about Disneyland or Kara right now.

Our day goes by pretty normally with medic calls and one stove fire that was out before we even got there, until we’re awoken at five in the morning by the ringing tones above us.

“Station 47, code three with a multi-car accident, one driver pinned between a big rig and the guard rail.”

We all hop out of bed and race to get in our gear, then to our spots in the engine.

With lights flashing and sirens blaring, we speed to the scene.

Over time, I’ve gotten pretty numb to these calls. I remember the first time, my heart was pounding out of control, as I didn’t have a clue what we’d be coming to. Now, it just feels like I’m onto the next call, hoping I can save a few souls, but knowing we all die in the end anyway.

We arrive to a massive clusterfuck of mangled cars. Other engines are on scene, so we hop out, heading to our chief for him to tell us what needs to be done next.

“Station 47, Jaws of Life to the white truck,” he yells before we even get to him.

Hayes and I run to get the massive device and carry it in unison to where the white truck is smashed to all high hell against a big rig.

I climb through on the passenger side to assess the situation. There is an old man in the driver’s seat, not looking good, so I press my fingers to his neck.

“We have a pulse!” I yell out.

Since there’s a sign of life, we move a little faster with a little more intensity, knowing all too well that the pulse could disappear in an instant.

I climb back out of the truck and hurry to the driver’s side with Hayes getting to work on prying the door open. It takes a few tries, but he gets it open, and I move in to see what else could be blocking the trapped driver.

To my surprise, the driver opens his eyes and looks right at me.

“Help me,” he’s barely able to get out.

“I got you. My name is Silas, and I’m getting you out of here. What’s your name?”

“Fred.” His voice is scratchy.

I talk as I work, making sure all his limbs are attached and that we’ll be able to free him easily once we’re all set up. “Fred, don’t you worry. I have my whole team here, and we’ll get you to the hospital. Can you feel your legs?”

He moves to check. “Yeah.”

“And how about your neck?” I place my hands on either side of his head.

He nods. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Okay, good. Let’s work on getting you out of here.”

I reach for my tool to cut his seat belt. It slices through the chest portion, and as I have my hands on the lap portion, I hear Hayes yell, “She’s going to blow!”

Before I know it, I’m thrown from out of the cab of the truck and tossed to the ground just as a huge explosion erupts in front of us from the big rig’s gas tank exploding.

I scramble to my feet, racing back to the truck, but Hayes stops me.

“He’s gone.”

I push him out of the way. “We don’t know that.”

“Fed, yes, we do!” he screams, yanking me back. “I can’t let you get near that.”

“So, you’re just going to let him burn to death?” I fight back, trying to get out of his hold.

“Feddeler!” he shouts, throwing me to the ground. “It’s too late.”

The chief runs to where we are. “You two okay?”

Hayes responds, “We’re fine. One casualty in the truck.” He looks at me. “There was no one else in there, right?”

I stand with a huff. “No,” I respond before walking away.

I get it that Hayes is twelve years older than me, so he’s even more hardened than I am, but I’ll never understand not trying.

We spend the next few hours helping to clean up the mess and put out the fire.

Once we’re back at the station, I grab my stuff and head to my truck, not even stopping to take a shower to clean off the filth from the morning.

Before I open my truck door, Brax stops me. “Hey, you can’t be mad at Hayes.”

I push his hand off of me. “Yeah? Why not?”

“Because he saved your life, asshole!” he shouts back. “You would have died right alongside the guy if Hayes hadn’t stopped you from going back there.” He pushes me in my chest. “And don’t fucking forget that!” He storms off, leaving me standing there.

I open the door in a huff, throw my stuff in, and climb inside. Once I do, everything from the morning washes over me, and I completely lose it. Tears fall from my eyes as I punch the steering wheel. All I keep picturing in my head is the guy asking me to help him and I didn’t. I’m a fucking failure, and now, someone is living their worst nightmare of losing a loved one because I didn’t do my job fast enough to get him out of there.

I must be causing a scene because I look up and see Hawk and Hollywood heading my way. Before they can say a word though, I start the truck and squeal my tires as I leave the parking lot, not wanting anyone to say shit to me right now.

I drive into my garage, not feeling one ounce better, so I cut the engine and head straight to the house, kicking off my shoes. I take my clothes off in the laundry room and throw them in the washer before I enter the rest of my house.

Turning on the shower, I step in, not giving a shit how cold it is, hoping the water will shock this feeling inside of me.

It doesn’t.

I stay there for twenty minutes, just letting the water hit me as I replay every second in my mind, wondering if there was a way I could have done something different.

Frustrated beyond belief, I get on with my shower routine and shut the water off, not having a clue what to do with my life now.

As I’m getting dressed, I hear my garage door open.

“Fed,” Myles yells out.

Should have known he’d be here.

“I’m back here,” I respond, knowing he won’t leave until I do.

He stands in my bedroom doorway and just stares at me.

I hold my hands out to my sides. “What?”

He raises his eyebrows. “You good?”

“Do I look fucking good?”

He sighs. “Come on. Marchy is opening the bar for us. Choir practice we go.”

“It’s ten o’clock in the morning,” I state like that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.

“Yeah, and you almost fucking died today. So, special circumstances call for going a little early. Let’s go. I’m driving.”

I reach in my drawer to grab a pair of socks, knowing there’s no way he’ll take no for an answer.