Command to dispatch, do we know if the chief is responding?
Dispatch to command, that's negative, sir. Do you want the chief?
Command to dispatch, yes, I need the chief. This is an arson investigation as of right now.
Thursday, December 13, 2012
Aubrey
I
T’S NEVER
easy seeing someone you love pull away, and it’s worse when you understand why, I think, because you want so badly to help them and you know you can’t.
Nothing you say will make it any easier for them.
Every day seemed to go by faster than the next, but it made no difference to her. For Brooke, time had stopped since Logan died, as had her life. Hell, she was still wearing his clothes.
And I couldn’t blame her for that, either.
In days since Logan was buried, something had obviously changed in Jace. Instead of being this guy who teased me and made me laugh, looking for an angle to get a rise out of me, now he was lost, giving me long stares or ignoring me completely.
I knew that his friend had just died, but I couldn’t help but feel if we didn’t do something, this could be a permanent change.
The past few days he’d been tired. Sometimes it was less noticeable, but I still saw it in his all-too-sad eyes and his regretful posture. He felt like he had something to do with Logan’s death.
And sometimes I saw a spark in his eyes, but it was never lit. I wanted to scream for him to hold me and that he needed it as much as I did . . . but I didn’t.
Why is it that when something tragic happens, and the world moves on as if nothing happened, you can’t? You keep thinking to yourself, “How can they go on?”
Didn’t they realize what they’d lost, who we lost? Were they so easily forgotten?
How could they accept it so easily?
I struggled with even day-to-day things like getting out of bed or taking a shower. It seemed that if I went about my day, somehow I was disrespecting the fact that he was gone now, and I couldn’t do that.
Just two days after the funeral, Jace got back on the truck.
A firefighter puts his mask on to show the rest of the world what he can do. Save people. But when he emerges from the fire and removes that mask, he reveals a rare intimacy. He’s just like everyone else. He’s human. And that’s a hard thing for them to understand sometimes.
The boys on the truck dealt with it in different fashions, each one finding his own way.
If they could make sense of it, they could find a way to deal with it. Some cried. Some laughed and made jokes, speaking of a time when they were happy. Denny questioned it. Axe ignored it. And Jace? He shut down.
In some ways, they thought they were invincible. Then, when Logan died, they slowly accepted that they weren’t and could die.
One of the hardest parts for me was seeing what Jace was going through because it was there, right in front of me.
I hated it mostly because here was Jace, the man I would give everything to, my heart, my soul, my love, and he was ignoring me. I understood why, but at the same time it didn’t make the hurt any easier.
H
ERE WAS
where things started to change and everything I thought I knew was starting to be questioned. Again.
I’ve got your attention now, don’t I?
December 13, 2012. A date I remembered because it was a day when not reacting soon enough bit my ass.
Part of me hoped I would never see my mother again.
All
of me hoped I would never see Ridley Harrison again.
But any watchful eye could see that I’d been fragile lately and lacked a lot of confidence in myself. Ridley saw that. He was watching me.
Never far away, and always in the right spot at the right time.
He had no business doing what he was doing, and I knew just as well as he did that had Jace known, or saw him anywhere near my shop, he would have killed him.
The day at the shop was a slow one and dragged. By the time we were closing up for the day, all I wanted to do was get home and see my kids. It was nearing seven, and darkness had taken over outside, along with a bitter cold wind as we prepared for a snowstorm coming our way any day.
It wasn’t often that Seattle got snow, but when it did it practically paralyzed the city, with all the hills we had.
Just as I was getting ready to leave, the door opened. I thought it would be Jace, since he’d said he was picking me up.
It wasn’t.
It was Ridley Harrison.
“What are you doing here?”
Shanna came around the corner and then walked backward into the office. “I’m back here if you need me, Aubrey.” She waited for me to nod, and I did. Ridley was an asshole, but I wasn’t scared of him any longer.
“I’ve stopped by a few times, and you haven’t been here.” He was standing a few feet away from me, arms folded, looking at me curiously. “Came to see how you’re doing.”
“Bullshit. You gotta stop showing up here.”
He stepped closer, smiling. “Have you seen your mom around?”
“Not that I should answer you . . . but no. Haven’t see her since she fucked up my Thanksgiving.”
I had my purse on my shoulder, ready to leave, when he moved from his place by the door and picked up a glass jar candle. “Has she asked you for anything?”
“What?” My confusion was evident, and he knew we weren’t on the same page, his focus then shifting.
Setting down the candle he stepped closer, stopping just a few feet from me. His eyes were focused behind me, watching the door to the office. With a sharpness to them, they fixed on me. “Do you think about me when you’re with him?”
“No.” I looked him in the eye, wanting him to see the truth. “I never have.”
“Bullshit. You’re lying.” He watched my mouth, and then my eyes. “I was your first.”
“I don’t think of you. And if I do . . . I assure you, they’re not good thoughts.”
He licked his lips, nodding. “I don’t think you’re telling the truth.”
“Things change, Ridley. People change. I changed. I’m not the girl I was in Boise anymore.”
“Oh, I think you are.”
“No.” My voice started to shake. “That’s where you’re wrong. I’m not.”
And then his gaze, which had shifted behind me again, returned. He said nothing. Then suddenly my face was between his palms, his fingers like iron clasps holding me face close to his, close enough his breath burned my skin. His lips barely touched mine, feather-light touches that made my stomach turn and my heart race. It was a touch he thought I wanted.
And then the pressure was harder, demanding something from me I would never give him, wetness coating my lips as he tried to get me to give in.
I refused, my hands desperately pushing against his chest. “Stop it,” I mumbled against his mouth, and if he didn’t stop, I intended to bite him. During this process my purse was knocked to the ground, my right hand reaching for anything on the counter that I could get to as a weapon.
Just then, Jace walked in. And I was relieved. For a moment. His reaction was not what I expected him to do.
When I saw Jace standing there, I couldn’t speak or move. Ridley didn’t turn around, but he looked over his shoulder at Jace.
Jace didn’t look at Ridley. He didn’t need to. Everything he wanted to say was going to be directed at me, and through that one look.
He turned and faced the door. It was then, even from fifteen feet away, I could see him shaking, his body vibrating and his hands fisted.
As Jace walked out, he slammed the door behind him, shattering the glass in it. The sound shot through the shop, rattling my eardrums. I flinched back, covering my ears as the tears started to form.
My heart constricted in my chest, beating so fast, so hard, that it hurt.
Shanna came running out of the back room. “What the fuck happened?” Her eyes went from Ridley to the shattered glass door. “Are you okay?”
I gasped, unable to do anything else, and used the counter to hold myself up. “What have you done, Ridley?”
The back of his hand brushed over his lips. “See you around, Aubrey.”
He knew Jace would come in here. He
knew
.
If I hadn’t been so stunned by what just happened, I would have gone after him and kicked the living shit out of him for destroying my life.
Shanna reached for me, her arms helping me up. I couldn’t stop the tears.
They were blameworthy tears I couldn’t control.
“I have to get home.” I started scrambling for my purse, which had dumped everything out completely, frantically stuffing all my crap back in there. “I have to . . . ” My tears took over again.
Shanna looked at me, her eyes wide. “I should call the police.”
“On who, Jace?” I gasped, choking on my tears.
“No . . . Ridley.” Shanna seemed concerned. “What if he’s waiting for you?”
“He’s not. He did what he intended to do.” I was sure of that. It turned out I was wrong, but I was sure at that point.
Shanna took a deep breath. As she knelt next to me, her hands found my shaking ones. “Just calm down, honey. Breathe . . . okay.” Our eyes met. “You need to be careful. Just let me call Rusty so he can help us clean up, and then I’ll take you home so I know you’re safe.” I didn’t reply. Soft fingers touched my face where Ridley had touched me. “It won’t take long. I’m sure once you explain what happened, he’ll listen to you.”
I hated this. If it wasn’t one thing, it was another. When would it end?
Everything around us tests our will to see right from wrong.
The problem was, I wasn’t sure if Jace would see it for that right now. What he’d just seen, the pain he was holding in from his friend’s death, and now this — it could just be his breaking point.
A
S SOO
n as I walked through the door, I saw Jace sitting on the couch. The apartment was a disaster, toys and two plates of half-eaten food left on the table. A look down the hall confirmed he had the kids in bed, hopefully sleeping. I was grateful for that. We needed to talk.
After everything. We needed to talk so badly, and not just a few words. We had a lot that needed to be said.
When I approached him, his head was in his hands, elbows on his knees, as he sat on the sofa. “Jace?”
His head snapped up, and I was met with a pair of bloodshot eyes. And then his gaze fell to the floor.
Look at him now.
He’s there, head in his hands with that regretful vulnerable way his shoulders slumped forward, revealing his sorrow and his pain.
“Where were you?”
“I had to clean up the glass from the window you shattered.” I shrugged. I had no explanation for anything that happened today, nor could I even begin to comprehend how or what we should do.
“Were you with him?”
“No.” I couldn’t understand where this was going or what he was thinking. How could he honestly think I would want someone else in any way?
“Why not?” He smirked, taunting me just a little more. He knew I didn’t want Ridley, but this was his way of torturing me, making me believe he didn’t care, when in all actuality this, tonight, was controlling him in ways he didn’t want it to.
It had simply happened over time, and now here we were, drawing lines that should have never been there.
“There’s nothing more you can say to me that would make me feel any worse than I already do.”
“Oh, I bet I could.” He was such a dick when he wanted to be. Right now he wanted to be. He was hurting, and in turn, he wanted me to hurt a little.
My eyes drifted from his to the window, the first snowflakes sticking to the balcony outside.
Sighing, I wanted to just breathe for a moment. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. We’re not the people we’ve become. The worst part, the one who can put out these flames of doubt, the ones destroying us, is the very person who started it when he stole my red crayon.
I thought with Logan dying maybe we could see what was right in front of us, but now we’re right here, and I wasn’t sure where this would take us.
He knew I didn’t want Ridley to kiss me. I knew that deep down he understood that. This, what we were feeling in this room right now, had more to do with everything we’d ignored.
Our arguments grew heated, until one day they stopped. And this was what we were left with.
“Did you want him to kiss you?” He hadn’t moved from his place on the couch. Instead, only his eyes watched mine.
A mixture of shame and regret took over. “No,” I eventually answered without meeting his eyes.
His anger was an illumination of flames, smoldering, intense, and so bright it hurt to look at. “Bullshit,” he snapped, spitting embers that could have set the world on fire.
“
He
kissed
me
.” I tried to keep my voice down. I didn’t want to wake the kids, but I really wanted to scream this next part at him. “I didn’t ask for that, Jace.”
He nodded, tight and tortured, but he didn’t say anything.
Let me tell you something about Jace here. He could be a real asshole sometimes. Maybe he didn’t mean to be, but at times he was just, because of his sarcastic demeanor. His dad and brother were the same, dry and mordant. Lovable guys, but lacking subtlety at times.
I got up, intending to just walk outside and get some air. So much had already been said that I was afraid of what was to come.
“If you’ve got something to say to me, say it. Don’t leave.”
“Okay. You’re being an asshole.” The words burned in my throat.
“I know that.” And if I didn’t know any better, I’d think I heard a smile to his voice. Turning to confirm my suspicion, I saw his stupid grin held at bay only by the darkness of the room. “I’m allowed to be an ass when someone threatens to take away my family.”
“Why are you acting like this about Ridley kissing me . . . and not what it’s really about?”
“Goddamn it!” he said through gritted teeth in a shouted whisper, his tone harsh and louder than before.
Pressing my finger to my lips, I pointed to the door. Jace lowered his voice.
“I’m struggling, and this is how you fucking repay me? This is the shit you fucking hand me?”