Page 4 of Raging Inferno

Her eyes dart back to mine and rage radiates from her irises.

“You think I want to be here?” she spats, waving a hand around. “I hate this place,” she confesses. “This place, that uniform,” she pauses, shoving a hand in front of me. “… it robbed me of everything I ever wanted. So, no, Jimmy, I don’t want to be here. As God as my witness, I don’t want to fight with you either. We’re over and done with and you’re right I have moved on. Sal is a good man. He loves me and the girls. He puts us first all the time.”

Another twist of the knife.

“But Sal isn’t their father, and it isn’t his place to answer the damn phone when Gabriella’s school calls.”

“Wait, the school called?” I question, patting my pants for my phone as she rolls her eyes at me.

“Yes, something you would’ve known if you weren’t so absorbed in your job,” she sneers. “The dean called, she’s in trouble for crying out loud.”

Lifting my phone from my pocket, I glance at the screen and see several missed calls from both the school and Lisa. I force my attention back to my ex-wife and watch as she takes a step backward. Shaking her head in disgust, she hitches the strap of her purse onto her shoulder and drops her sunglasses back onto the bridge of her nose.

“For once in your life, pretend it’s your daughter trapped inside a burning building. Listen to her cries for help Jimmy because if we don’t act quickly we’re going to lose her,” she says before turning on her heel.

Her words are vicious and they cut through me but before I react, I think. I think about our youngest daughter and I wonder if her mother is right. Unlike her sister, Gabriella never truly accepted the divorce. In the years since the ink has dried on the papers, there have been several calls from Lisa regarding Gabby’s behavior. I was always quick to chalk it up to Lisa being a drama queen and told myself she was overreacting. Having the girls more than me made it easy for her to lose her patience and me to point a finger.

Lifting my head, I watch Lisa strut across the firehouse.

“What did she do?”

Pausing at the door, she glances over her shoulder and lowers her sunglasses.

“They wouldn’t say over the phone but, it can’t be good if they’re threatening to expel her,” she says as she moves to start for the exit.

“Where are you going?” I call out, forgetting about the tribute and the men who just witnessed an ugly exchange.

“Where do you think I’m going?” she retorts. “To the school.”

“I’ll meet you there.”

For a moment she simply stares at me and I see the doubt reflected in her eyes.

“I’ll be there,” I assure her.

Without a word, she turns around and I watch her walk away.

Out of sight.

Out of my head.

Out of my heart.

But never out of my life.

Before I hated her, I loved her and from that love came two amazing girls, one of which is crying for help. I never cared for being called a hero but, at this moment all I want is to be my daughter’s.

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