Firefighter's Virgin

I watched him being escorted out in handcuffs and my automatic reaction was to look for Megan. But no matter where I looked, she was nowhere to be found. I left the courtroom with Victor beside me, and despite my newfound freedom, I didn’t feel as elated as I expected to.

I got out of bed, showered quickly and headed into work. Sarge had given me the option of taking a few days off, but I had declined. The best thing for me right now was to work, especially because it took my mind of Megan. I hadn’t seen or spoken to her since the verdict two days ago, and already I felt her absence so keenly that it hurt.

As I walked into the station in a sour mood, I noticed that the place was practically a graveyard. Then I walked into the day room, and the place burst into cheers and applause and hooting. Even Sarge was standing there, between Kendrick and Mel, clapping along with the rest of the men. There was a makeshift sign that had been hung up, and I recognized Kendrick’s untidy scrawl. His sign read, “We’re glad you’re not a drug dealer and you’re not going to spend the next ten years in jail.”

The sight of the sign made me smile, and I realized that there was a lot in my life I had to be thankful for. The boys took it in turns to congratulate me, and I took the opportunity to thank them for being there for me, for believing in me, and for supporting me through the whole process.

Sarge clapped me hard on the back. “You’re a good man, Phil,” he said. “I’m glad to have you back.”

“Thanks, Sarge.”

“I would have invited your girlfriend, too, only no one knew her number,” he told me.

I hesitated. “That’s… We’re not together anymore, Sarge,” I said, choking out the words.

He sighed. “I thought it

might be something like that…”

“She didn’t believe I was innocent.”

“I heard she fought for you in court.”

“Too little, too late,” I said harshly.

“Is that your pride talking?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Well, figure it out,” he told me commandingly. “Your pride is not worth losing a good woman over.”

A part of me knew that was true. But another part of me couldn’t quite get over the hurt. Added to which, Megan hadn’t tried to make contact with me since I’d been released. Maybe she wasn’t as invested in our relationship as I had originally thought.

I wanted to speak to her…but I had already been burnt once, and I wasn’t willing to taste fire again.

Chapter Thirty

Megan

“Megan?”

Marta’s voice reached me as though from a great distance, but I was grateful that she had interrupted my thoughts. These last couple of days, I felt like Alice falling through the rabbit hole, but there was nothing at the end to break my fall.

“Yes?”

“Honey, you don’t look good,” Marta observed, with concern. “You haven’t been yourself for the last few days.”

“I just… It’s nothing.”

“You’re still thinking about your brother, huh?” she asked. “Or is it Phil?”

And that was all it took—just the sound of his name, and I was a weeping puddle of tears with no control and no way of stopping myself. Marta looked startled for only a moment before she ran around her cubicle and came straight for me. She wrapped her arms around me, and I sunk into her warm embrace, feeling comfort for the first time in what felt like forever.

“There now,” she said, in a soothing maternal voice. “You just go ahead and let it all out. Cry until you can’t cry anymore.”

And that’s exactly what I did. It lasted almost six minutes, but when I was done crying, I felt both tired and relieved.

“Feel a little better?” she asked.