Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
“Up either side and tie it off at the top?” Todd finishes for me.
I nod.
Three hours later, we have a completed line, and we break for food. I update dispatch and recheck my phone. No new messages, but I also don’t have any bars.
“You good?” Erin asks. She’s a second-year rookie. A true talent. She’s also the most emotionally in tune with everyone, which isn’t always a good thing in a male-dominated profession of blowhards who pride themselves on not showing emotion. Most of the women keep that shit locked up, too, but not Erin. She can relentlessly tear into the earth with her Pulaski one minute and rock a baby to sleep the next.
“Yup.” I nod several times, but I don’t make eye contact.
Everyone chuckles when I pull out my favorite snack, a frozen bean-and-rice burrito. It’s good and warm by the time I get a chance to eat it.
I find a believable smile to give them before getting back to business. “We need to get the burning snag down. Todd and I have the crosscut. You two make the bed.”
As soon as our break ends, we return to work, felling the burning snag, throwing dirt on it, and tearing it apart.
“Dispatch said we’ll be picked up at oh seven hundred. Grab dinner, and get some sleep. We’ll be up early for another check, gearing up, and a four-mile hike to the helispot.”
Todd, Alan, and Erin share stories during dinner. I stare at my phone and play every scenario in my head. Where was Jaymes attacked? Why? And why wouldn’t she want me to know?
By 0500, we’re grabbing food and checking for hot spots.
“You good?” Todd asks.
“Jesus, I’m fine. Should I make a public announcement?” I pack the tools.
“So you’re not good. That’s all you need to say.”
I feel his gaze on me, but I don’t have the time or patience to make him feel okay about asking me anything.
After we get picked up, I muster as much professionalism as possible to discuss everyone’s performance, which was good. If there is such a thing as textbook, this was it.
An hour later, we’re back at the base for a shower, and all personnel gather for a debrief.
“Go.” Gary grabs my arm before I take a seat.
I narrow my eyes.
“Do you know about Jamie? Her friend messaged Evette this morning.”
After a beat, I nod.
“Then go. Take whatever time you need.”
“I’m fine. I’ll text her after we finish.” I pull away from his hold.
Again, he grabs my arm. We have a silent standoff.
I glance at the door. “I need you to let me do this my way.”
Gary frowns, but he releases me.
This is my life. And when I read the message from Melissa, I was reminded why this is my life.
The debrief is quick. I finish my day like it’s any other day. And I do it under the scrutiny of Gary’s watchful eye.
I go home.
I make dinner.
I wash my dishes.
Will arrives home from his tai chi just as I head up the stairs.
“Hey.” He tosses his keys on the table.
“Hey,” I say, making it halfway up the stairs before stopping. “Listen.” I turn. “Melissa, Jamie’s friend, messaged me. Two days ago, Jamie was accidentally attacked—”
“What the hell?!”
I shake my head. “She’s fine. It was a concussion and a broken nose. I haven’t had a chance to get back with her, so that’s all I know.”
“Well, how long have you been home? What do you mean you haven’t had a chance to get back with her? When did you get the message?”
“Yesterday.”
“What the fuck, Fitz?” Will pulls his phone out of his pocket. “Does Maren know?”
“I was on a call. I couldn’t exactly leave or send out a group text.”
“Hopefully, Maren will see my text and reply.” Will lifts his gaze and eyes me with disapproval. “She’ll go see her, or I could take a few days off to go see her.” He heads toward the kitchen.
I run a hand through my hair and follow him. “I’m going to go,” I say.
Will pulls his empty water bottle from his bag. “I’m sure she’d rather see Maren, no offense.”
“No, she wouldn’t,” I counter with slow, calculated words.
Will eyes me. “What do you mean by that?” He pulls his phone from his pocket. “It’s Maren. Hey.” He answers it on speaker.
“Jesus Christ, what do you mean Jamie was attacked? What the hell? Are you with Fitz? God, I hope he’s already with her.”
Will squints at me. “Why would he already be with her?”
The line goes silent.
“I’m here, Maren. Will and I were just starting to discuss why I’m going to visit her. It’s a broken nose and concussion. I’ll let you know when I find out any more information.”
“Okay. Well, I’m sorry, Fitz. But it’s time,” Maren says.
“Time for what?” Will narrows his eyes.
“I’ll be home tomorrow. Give her my love.” Maren ends the call.