First

‘Have you called Catherine yet to tell her you’re safe?’

I shake my head.

‘What about that girl who was here tonight? Maya, wasn’t it?’

‘No,’ I croak, throat sore. ‘I haven’t called her.’

Captain Blake leans back in his chair, looking down the hall behind me. ‘You’re good at this job, Jacobs,’ he finally says. ‘You’ve said before you’re in it for the long haul. I know this isn’t the first person you’ve lost. But sometimes certain fires hit us harder than others.’

He looks at me and in that moment I know he saw my stumble at the fire. He saw my brain shut down and he must have recognised it had nothing to do with the physicality of the job. I appreciate him waiting to bring it up until now.

His expression is a mixture of sternness and concern. ‘When that happens, you need to take the time to process. Okay?’

‘Yes, sir,’ I reply.

He nods once and stands. ‘Get home safe.’

Once he’s gone, I lever myself out of the chair. Everything hurts. Even my stupid freaking chest, where my heart feels like it’s trying to bust its way out from behind my ribs. I grab my bag from my locker and stare at my phone. It’s off and I hesitate to turn it back on. I’m sure Cat will have texted me. Probably a lot of texts. I don’t think I can handle that right now.

Instead, I pick up the station’s landline and call the house. When she answers, she’s groggy. ‘Hello?’

‘Hey, sis.’

‘Jake! Are you okay? It sounded like a huge fire—’

‘Yeah, I’m fine. Just got back to the station. I’ve got a few hours’ worth of work to do here though.’ The lie slips out far too easily.

‘I’m just glad you’re safe. Do you want me to drive over and pick you up when you’re done so you don’t have to drive?’

‘Nah. I’ll catch a nap here and head home after. Everything’s fine, I promise.’

But it’s not.

‘Thanks for calling,’ she murmurs. ‘I know I shouldn’t worry about you, but I can’t help it.’

‘Love you, Cat. Go back to bed.’

‘Love you too.’

I hang up, but tap my fingers against the phone. Why did I tell her I wasn’t going home? That’s where I should go. I’ve got no reason to avoid it.

My truck’s in the parking lot, one of the last vehicles from my shift left. Getting in is easy. But when I stick the key in the ignition, my hand shakes so badly I can’t start the damn engine. And then it spreads.

God only knows how long I sit there, body shuddering, before the adrenaline finishes its rampage. The moment I can manage it, I start my truck and leave the station. The roads in town are quiet, not a surprise given the early hour, and I drive aimlessly. Sites of previous fires pass outside my window, my memories rising and falling like the quiet drone of the country music playing on my radio. The college passes on my right, campus streetlamps creating trails of light.

I turn down the street, again heading away from my house. A red light finally halts my progress and I come out of my thoughts enough to recognise this spot. This is the intersection where my parents were killed.

I was in Houston when it happened, a nineteen year-old adrenaline junkie who believed he ruled the world. A single call from California Highway Patrol shattered that illusion. The rest of that day was a blur of talking. Talking with police, with lawyers, with the trainers running the academy. When Dallas finally got through and convinced me to stay for the last two weeks, that he’d take care of Cat, I’d agreed.

There hadn’t been a choice. If I’d gone home, the time I’d already spent at the academy wouldn’t have counted. Returning again to run the whole course would have been the only option. With my parents gone and Cat to worry about, I wouldn’t have ever had time or money to go back. The choice was clear: leave and face an uncertain future, or be responsible, hold in the grief, and return home later with a career that would support my little sister.

I’ve never looked back. Not once.

But for some reason, sitting at this red light at the very place where my parents’ car was hit from behind and forced into the middle of the intersection where they were then t-boned, I have a moment of clarity. I’ve never looked back, but I’ve never looked forward either.

Life’s been at a standstill for years. Now, with Cat mere months away from her college graduation, I’m going to wake up one morning and discover my life is mine again. I don’t regret the close relationship I’ve created with my little sister, or the bond I’ve strengthened with my best friend thanks to his help in the accident’s aftermath. I’m grateful for the life I have. It’s better than what I thought was possible.

But being with Maya … For the first time, I wonder if I’ve missed out on something the past eight years.