Page 7 of Time Bomb
“Decker!” my battalion chief’s voice calls from the parking lot entrance when he sees me. “Get your ass in here.” Oh shit. If he’s swearing, it’s never a good thing.
“Coming, Chief!” I knew he was supposed to be here today, but there hasn’t been much talk about why. Firehouse 69 is one of the best in the city. We get shit done without the usual bullshit that goes along with thinking you’re the best and knowing it. We don’t just fuck around during our downtime, we train, then we train some more. There’s always room for improvement, and we strive to do better during every shift.
“You know what this is about, Lieu?” Our engineer strides up behind me. Kai Watson has been here as long as I have. He trained down in Orlando but abruptly transferred up here. Nobody knows why.
“You’re guess is as good as mine.” Clapping him on the back, I shoot him an encouraging smile as we enter the building. Finding some of our fellow brothers in the conference room already, we drop our gear on our bunks and join them.
“I’m sure you’re wondering what’s going on.” The chief enters the room and pauses at the front. “The firefighter’s ball is being moved up a month because of venue conflicts, and our very own Lieutenant Torque Decker is being honored for his quick thinking at the Hamptons fire two months ago that could have turned explosive instead of just being destructive.” A round of applause goes around the room as I sit in stunned silence.
“That was the whole team, sir,” I point out, but everyone ignores my protests.
Caleb Kelly, our house captain and one of my oldest friends, slaps my back. “Take it, bud. If not for you, that building would have been rubble and the same with every single structure surrounding it. You did good, Decker. Let us celebrate you.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I realize I won’t win this argument. The idea was mine, but without my team, it would never have been possible. “Do I get to bring a date?” What I wouldn’t give to have Ophelia on my arm that night.
Catcalls and whistles break out around the room before BC Hamilton quiets them down. “The whole family, Decker. I suspect your parents will already be there.” With a quick dismissal to expect the unexpected, we’re all hustling out of the room, getting our gear ready and planning the shift’s meals.
Typically, it’s me, Caleb, or Flint Evans, one of the firemen on my engine, cooking because the rest of them couldn’t make a meal to save their lives.
Growing up in the world of firefighters and protocol, I’ve been ambitious to rise through the ranks and become what my father was.
Fire chief.
When he took over twenty years ago, he rebuilt the department from the ground up, choosing the men he commanded with ruthless precision. While he wanted men dedicated to the job, he didn’t want those only worried about their next promotion.
I still remember the office firings. Numerous threats were made when he canned the then assistant deputy chief, district chief, and assistant district chief. Heads rolled that first year, but afterwards, as the fires died down and the dust settled, everyone saw the advantage to what he’d done. And when he retired a few years ago and backed our present chief, everyone else had as well.
Now, aside from my dedication to the JFD and my ambition to become the next fire chief, Ophelia has taken over my thoughts. There’s not much more I want than her, and that’s saying something.
Ophelia
Staring down at my phone in frustration, I shut the dumb thing off and shove it in my pocket. Baxter has been texting me all morning, attempting to be charming. He must have forgotten that I saw through his mask at the end of our date.
I’ve received four messages from him so far. All of which I’ve left on read with no intention of answering him back.
“You should just block him,” Laken mutters as she chews on one of the mini banana bread loaves I pulled out of the oven fifteen minutes ago.
“Where did you find him?” She still hasn’t answered that question.
“Church.” That surprises me. Trevor, the boring banker, I can understand meeting at church, but not Baxter. He doesn’t seem the type.
“I’m surprised he didn’t ignite the minute he stepped through those doors.” The man is pure evil. Maybe not pure, pure, evil, but something close. He’s inarguably a douchebag.
“God doesn’t see all evil in all men. That’s what husbands are for.” Laken grins as she rubs her belly. Hale is most certainly one of those husbands who sees everything. His obsession with my friend leaned towards some stalker tendencies in the past, which has had me wondering if his brother could be the same way.
I wouldn’t object to it. I know I should. But the idea of a good man being so obsessed with me that he watches everything I do is kind of hot.
“You’re thinking about him,” my friend points out, a huge smile on her face. I shrug and continue pouring the muffin batter into the pan before depositing it in the oven.
“Hey, Ophelia. Hey, Mom.” Jesse stalks in through the front of the shop, dropping his bag in the office on his way to give his mom a hug. “Do you need anything?” The way his hand goes to her bump is the cutest thing. Hale is not the only one under Laken’s spell and obsessed with her.
“I’m good, sweetheart.” Brushing her fingers through his hair, she leans forward to kiss his forehead.
“Got anything for me to do, Ophelia?” He looks back at me while getting Laken a glass of milk.
“If you want to take the garbage out, I’d appreciate it.” Pointing to the two trash bags by the backdoor, he nods his acceptance and gets right to it.
“Thanks for letting him help out. I think he feels helpless when it comes to what he can do for the baby.” Laken’s eyes don’t leave the boy until he’s out the back door.