Page 11 of Avery's Hero

“I know this is going to make you furious, but you’re going to have to do a medical and psych eval before you can go on any active fire scenes. Until then, you’re on the desk.”

She glares at me for a tense sixty seconds. Then roughly says, “Brock. Please.”

“No. Don’tsay my name like that.Or beg me. I’m serious about this. I’m responsible for your safety and the safety of everyone on this team.”

The thought of Avery having a debilitating panic attack in the midst of a dangerous fire chills my blood. I’ll never let that happen on my watch.

I don’t care how angry she is.

I scrub my hand over my face. One more problem on a stack that’s as tall as this fire house. “I’ll set up the appointments with the department’s doctors.”

Bitterly, she says, “Your call. Chief.”

When I leave, she’s still standing against the sink, a paper towel clutched viciously in her hands. The expression on her face is one part pure rage, one part pure agony.

Mine probably matches. I’m pretty sure that we’ve both just boarded the same train to hell.

And I’m pretty sure it’s my fault.

I nearly run smack into Reeves when I fly out of the women’s room.

Stopping in his tracks, his face screws up, “Chief, why were you in there?”

“It’s not important. But I need you to do something. The new hire is here. Show her the unoccupied bunk room,she’s going to be staying there. Put a sign on the door that says ‘Women Only.’ Get her set up with a keycard and log-ins. Introduce her around.”

He gives me one of his easy going smiles. “Sure, Chief.”

“But don’t set her up with turnout gear.”

His smile drops, but he doesn’t dig. He says, “Uh… okay. Where is she?”

“She’ll be out in a minute.”

He glances at the ladies' room door. I walk away before I’m expected to explain anything else. Because what happened behind closed doors is going to stay behind closed doors.

CHAPTER FOUR

Brock and I managed to avoid each other for the entire rest of the day. I have a feeling I won’t be so lucky on day two of my job. Trying to focus on the positives, I close the bunk room door, and head into the main part of the station.

The building is elegantly quiet when I take a walk around the trucks. My work boots leave no marks on the spotless, painted concrete floor, but make little squishy sounds with each step.

Early morning sunlight streams in through the tall glass panes of the bay doors, gleaming off the chrome on the equipment.

The sight hits me right in the chest.

I’ve always loved the order and tidiness of a fire department.

The quiet, too, in moments like this. But, I also love the controlled chaos when that alarm sounds.

The desk that Reeves pointed out as mine sits in the corner of a shared office. This morning, no one else is around when I ease into the old wooden office chair and open the center drawer of the desk.

I shudder and make a face as I stare down at the catastrophe of office supplies.What a mess.Pens, pencils, loose thumb tacks, crumpled pads of sticky notes. Dust bunnies fill the corners. The paper clips are dumped out of their tiny cardboard box.

It’s enough to give me sweaty palms. Ick.

First order of the morning, take care of this disaster. I won’t rest until it’s all separated and perfectly arranged.

“You’re at it early.”

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