"Fuck me sideways," he grumbled, lumbering down the stairs.
Alisha was midway through rehearsing All That Jazz when her voice cracked unexpectedly.
Random flashes of her time with Big flooded her mind—their fight from the night before; him telling dirty jokes until she couldn't breathe; watching him perform Thunder Road; their first real kiss as snow fell around them.
She tried to shake it off, to maintain her composure and her professionalism (two things she prided herself on). More flashes. Singing with Fire Extinguishers; the Colts game; after the Colts game; seeing him exit that bathroom stall the night of Maggie's birthday; that woman answering his door while wearing his t-shirt.
Her face flushed hot and her throat tightened with tears.
Then the floodgates opened.
For the first time ever in her life she let her personal problems affect her performance. She stopped on stage and doubled over, choking on sobs.
How did everything get so messed up so fast?
Big stormed into the station and jerked open his locker, pulling out his gear.
"Big, hey!" James called, walking into the room.
He shrugged out of his jacket and spared his friend a quick glance. His response was a non-committal grunt.
"Did you and Alisha work things out?" The murderous look he received in turn told him the answer. "Oh—um, well, what—what the hell happened?"
"My goddamn sister happened," he spewed venomously, pulling on his protective gear. Knowing James wouldn't let it go until he had the whole story, he gave him a quick synopsis of the details.
"Dude, just explain that to Alisha. I'm sure she'll understand."
Big rolled his eyes. "Thanks for the tip, Einstein," he said acidly. : She won't answer her goddamn phone."
"Biggerman! Keller! Let's get a fucking move on!" the Captain bellowed.
Slamming his locker closed, he headed for the rig with James and the other guys close behind. Not even fighting a big blaze was going to improve his mood today.
Three hours later, Big was hot and tired and really motherfucking pissed at absolutely anything and everything—the sound of fire, the smell of the fire, his sister, Alisha for not answering her phone, James for his constant everything will be okayand the sun shines out of his ass attitude, his captain, this old ass musty warehouse for catching fire, faulty wiring, Chang's jokes, Matt's excessive silence, Jack Daniels for his fucking headache (himself, but that went without saying).
He turned the nozzle on the hose and blasted a wall of flames, the tension in his jaw coiled so tight he thought the bones would snap if he bit down any harder. The only tiny silver lining to this shittastic day was that this fucking fire was just about contained. Once their unit arrived and started working in tandem with the other firemen, things progressed quickly. Big guessed that another hour or two and they could go the fuck home.
"More slack, Rutherford," he barked, pulling on the hose. He turned the corner and heard a loud, thundering rumble overhead. Stopping, he looked up just in time to watch the ceiling cave in before his world went black.
Alisha walked back stage with a smile on her face. The show had gone off without a hitch and if she had to critique her own performance, she'd have to say that it was one of her best. (seriously) The earlier bout of extremely unprofessional behavior could now be swept under the rug.
She was Alisha Larrington.
And she was a star.
"Great show, Lisha," Alice grinned, hugging her quickly.
"You, too, Ali," Alisha replied. "Thanks for everything earlier," she told her earnestly. (Just because she was ready to move on didn't mean she was ungrateful for her co-stars' kindness)
"Oh, honey, absolutely. You let me know if I need to kick some ass for you. I'll do it!"
Alisha chuckled. She had no doubt that the little spitfire meant it. "I will. Have a great night."
"You, too."
She grabbed her bag and pulled out her phone. She expected to have missed calls (he'd called her all morning, but had stopped trying after the voicemail he left that she hadn't bothered to listen to), but there were five from Maggie and ten from James. Her phone vibrated in her hand and she saw James's name pop up on the ID.
So, what? Big was having James do his dirty work for him now? Rolling her eyes, she hit accept and decided to give him a piece of her mind. "James, whatever it is that your best friend has to say, I don't want to hear it. The woman in his apartment this morning made it abundantly clear that whatever we had is officially over."
"Alisha, listen—"
"No, you listen, James, and perhaps you should put this on speaker, so he can hear this, too. I'm sure he's with you. I want nothing more to do with Jake Biggerman. I was a complete fool to ever start anything with him in the first place and—"
"Goddammit, Alisha!" James barked. "Shut the fuck up and listen to me for a minute."
Alisha's mouth snapped shut and she heard the panic in James's voice. She'd never heard him speak that way before. (to anyone ever)
"There was an accident at work today."
Her throat went dry. "An accident? What kind of accident?" An accident like Big tripped over a hose and chipped a tooth? An accident like he got hit by a bus crossing the street? An accident like his dick caught fire from fucking that other girl last night? He didn't have his protective gear on and has smoke inhalation?
There was a long, pregnant pause. "Dammit, James, what kind of accident?"
"How fast can you get to Lenox Hill Hospital?"
His avoidance of any kind of answer made her heart stop. "On my way," she blurted, ending the call.
She grabbed her bag and her coat and flew out the door.
