It was something I prayed like hell she’d do, because without him in my life, her too, I never stood a chance of being the least bit whole again.
“Yo, Pop,” Hendrix said, pulling me out of my fucked-up head. Leaning forward, he readjusted his ball cap, something he did all the time. “You know they might can our asses for this, right?”
I smirked. “I’d like to see them try.”
Nobody in that truck would get fired. For one, we weren’t venturing far, and for two, I was the most decorated fireman in Toluca County history.
Owning a cedar chest filled with medals I never bothered to look at, I would’ve had to kill somebody before they even contemplated letting me go.
It was a sad truth, but a truth, nonetheless.
“Alright,” I said, sliding on my sunglasses. “Everybody ready?”
“U-ka ready!”
That was all I needed to hear.
Hands on the wheel, I stepped on the gas, and away we went, leaving the rest of the guys at the station as we drove straight to Dairy Queen, where I bought Lucca a chocolate ice cream cone, and then laughed when he smashed it in Tuck’s face.
That day, as unexpected as it had been, ended up being one of the best I’ve ever lived.
For more reasons than one.
“Pop, get in here!”
A couple of hours after Shelby and Lucca left, I was getting ready to leave the station when Hendrix’s alarmed voice sent chills racing down my spine.
Dropping the duffle bag I’d been packing to the floor by my feet, I stormed out of the bunkroom and charged down the hall, hell-bent on reaching him quickly and finding out what was going on.
After nearly colliding with more than one body on the way, I found him standing next to Tuck in the bays, their curious gazes fixed on something—or rather someone—just outside the open doors.
Seeing that they were both okay, I let out a pent-up breath as I came to a sliding stop, something my six-foot-four frame wasn’t meant to do. That became clear when I almost tripped over my own two feet and nearly face-planted onto the concrete ground.
I was lucky I didn’t break my neck.
Not even kidding.
Chest heaving, I looked from one man to the next. “What’s the problem?” Before either of them could answer, I kept talking, letting the anxiety that had me in its unrelenting grip shine bright. “Neither of you knuckleheads appears to be bleeding; therefore, I’m assuming your stubborn asses hasn’t been stabbed or shot, so what the hell is all the hollering all about?” My heart was about to explode. “Are you two trying to kill me?”
Swear to Christ, they were.
It was always something with those two.
“Don’t be such a drama queen, old man. I told you I wasn’t in the mood to attend your funeral, and I meant it.” Smirking, my smartass kid nodded toward the place he’d been staring seconds before. “You know her?”
Eyes narrowed in response to his smartass comments, I followed his line of sight. Finally seeing what had captured his attention, I stilled, my body freezing because standing in front of my station was the woman I’d met the night I’d gone looking for Carmen.
The one who’d reminded me of my mother.
“‘Cause she said she needs to see you,” he continued, crossing his arms over his chest. “But she wouldn’t give me her name or tell me what business she had with you.”
The suspicion in his voice was clear.
“Yeah, buddy, I know her,” I replied, turning to face the woman. “You and Tuck head on home. I’ve got everything under control.”
My boy didn’t seem convinced.
Couldn’t say I blamed him.
Looking from me to the woman, then back to me again, he clenched his jaw. “You’re not fucking around with the wrong kind of people again, are you, Pop?” he asked, clearly judging the situation for what he thought it was.
A thought that was wrong, I might add.
“‘Cause if you go back down that road, then you’ll lose Maddie and me both. I won’t let anyone put her or our baby in danger.” Face reddening, he fisted his right hand. “Not ever again.”
I deserved his harsh words.
However, the woman standing forty feet away, her face twisted in apparent anxiety, didn’t. I knew my kid, and knowing him, I understood that he meant no harm. But she didn’t.
It was obvious her life was hard enough already. She didn’t deserve to be hurt because of past mistakes I’d made too.
“Lower your damned voice,” I said, my tone harsher than I intended. “You want to give me shit, fine, I deserve nothing less. But there’s no need for an innocent person to get hurt on account of the distrust that still lingers between you and me.”
Turning so the woman couldn’t read the words I was about to say, I whispered, “I know it’s obvious what she is, but that doesn’t matter. What does matter is that she’s a human being who possesses a beating heart, and because of that, you will straighten your ass up and show her some respect.”
My son flinched.
He may have been grown, but I was still his father, and I refused to stand by while he made harsh judgments about people he didn’t know.
He was better than that.
End of story.
Pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers, he dropped his gaze to the ground. “Fuck, Pop,” he said, tone loaded with remorse. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
I realized that, but if there was one thing I knew all too well, it was that words had the power to cut you, and the wounds they left behind were usually the deepest.
Squeezing the back of Hendrix’s neck, I nodded. “I know, son.”
And I did.
My oldest kid may have been the biggest smartass I’d ever met, but he also had one of the kindest hearts I’d ever encountered, and one I was convinced was plated with gold.
“You’re a good kid. Always have been. You’ve just got a mouth on you.” I know where you got it from too. “Now go on
