Into the Fire (First Responders 3)

Chris was in a private room for the night, awa

ke, alert and finishing up his dinner when she walked in. The room smelled of cafeteria food, and she saw remnants of mashed potatoes on his plate.

His arm was wrapped but not casted, and he had it elevated in a sling as he sat up in bed, still in the hospital johnny shirt. The bruise on his cheek had deepened to a nasty purple, and there was a cut on his forehead. But the smile on his face when she walked in lit up the room. Her heart gave a welcome leap at the sight of it, but was soon chased off with despair over what she’d ultimately come to say.

“I didn’t expect to see you tonight,” he said, pushing the tray away awkwardly. “How’s Moose?”

“He’s had a long walk followed by a shameful number of treats. I’ll go over and let him out again before I go home, but do you think he’ll be all right overnight?”

“I’ll be home in another twenty-four hours if all goes right,” he answered. “He’ll be okay for one night, I think.”

“I’d take him home with me if I could.”

“I know that.” He patted the bed. “Come sit down.”

She pulled a chair close to the bed instead, and saw the moment his eyes grew wary.

“This isn’t going to be good, is it?” he asked.

She paused, unsure of how to start. But she didn’t expect Chris’s anger to flare.

“Goddammit, Ally. If it was always going to be like this, why the hell did you let things go as far as they did?”

“I don’t know,” she answered. But she did know. Because she’d wanted him so much. Because she’d fooled herself into believing it was okay.

“Do you love me?” he asked.

“Don’t ask me that,” she replied, staring at the bed sheet. “Loving you has never been the problem.”

“It was okay until this.” He lifted his bandaged arm a bit. “Hell, it’s just a broken arm. I’m going to be fine.”

She looked up. “This time.”

“You never wanted me to become a firefighter. You told me that you couldn’t marry me because you didn’t know what you wanted, but what you meant was you didn’t want me.”

“That’s not true!”

“Ally,” he said gently, “Why do you think I came back here and volunteered rather than going somewhere else with a bigger, paid department? I wanted to be near you.”

“Then that was your mistake,” she replied.

“Most of the time there isn’t even any danger,” he said. “You’d give up on us because of this?”

“You don’t understand,” she whispered.

“Then make me. Because if you’re walking out the door again, it’s going to be for good. I can’t go on this way. I at least deserve to know why.”

The words hurt her deep down inside, an ache that spread from the very centre of her. “This morning you talked about that call you were on this summer. The one where the girl died.”

“It was a terrible call. The kind that haunts you for a long time.”

“That’s right. But once the accident scene was over, your job was done. You didn’t have to notify the family that their daughter was dead. You weren’t on the other side of the door, hearing the knock, seeing the uniforms. You didn’t have to listen to the words. But I did, Chris. I did when Becca drowned. You didn’t have to watch that girl’s family be torn apart. And I was one of those families. So while from the outside my fear might seem slightly irrational, let me say right now that once you’ve been through something like that you’d do anything not to go through it again.”

“I know Rebecca’s death had to be hard…but I’m not her, Ally.”

“And yet last night I heard the knock on the door and I saw the uniform. What do you suppose went through my mind?” She couldn’t stop the tears forming at the corners of her eyes. Even now, the feelings of fear and helplessness and shock came back to her. That empty despair wasn’t a feeling someone forgot. It was so tied to memory that all she had to do was think about it and it was there again, ruthless and unforgiving.

“You thought I was dead.”