Finally, we’re getting to the heart of the matter. “I know you hated that she was a firefighter, Dad. That she didn’t fit inside the cage you made for her.”
His eyes flash. “All I wanted was for her to be safe. For you both to be safe. But she always thought she knew best. She had a rash streak a mile wide, and you have it, too. You like to push back against authority which I assume is related to your attitude to me. When someone tells you no, you see my face and give them the bird.”
Is he blaming Mom for what happened to her? Did she make a mistake the night she died? So today I disobeyed an order, went back up that stairway. Perhaps I should have left it to someone more experienced on the team, who could have helped Roman instead of hindering him. Maybe a more seasoned firefighter could have hauled them both down the stairs before the bannister gave way.
“It’s not always about you, Dad.” But even as I say it, I see it through his eyes. Not just the pain of knowing someone you love is in danger, but also the risks I’m willing to take to prove my father wrong.
And taking that risk might have seriously injured Roman.
He ordered me off those stairs, and while I believe my return to that spot saved him, it might also have forced him to second-guess his decisions going forward.
He had already told me he’d worry about sending me into a dangerous situation.
On the stairs, he scouted ahead, checking that every step could hold our weight.
The man said he loved me, for God’s sake!
Those weren’t merely the actions of a commanding officer. His feelings for me dictated his choices in the field and who’s to say they didn’t break differently than they would have with another crew-mate? When we crashed over that rail, he went first and twisted his body to break my fall.
I close my eyes and pinch the spot between them where a headache is starting to form. When I look up, I meet frost in my father’s gaze.
“Maybe I screwed up. I don’t know anymore.”
“You’re suspended pending an investigation into this incident and what just occurred in that waiting room when you assaulted a fellow officer. Your behavior with Rossi will also be addressed.”
No, Roman can’t be hurt because of my actions.
“This isn’t Roman’s fault. He wanted to report it but I asked him not to.”
“So it’s not serious.”
“I didn’t think so …” Until today.
Until I thought I might have lost him.
Until I went ape shit on a fellow officer.
Until I exposed my underbelly for all to see.
“Roman can’t be in trouble for this, Dad. He didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Except cross a line with you, a direct report. He knows better than that.”
He did but he did it anyway. And I knew better but I let it go too far, caught up in the craziness of my attraction for him. My love.
Because that’s what it is. A love that hurts more than heals.
“It doesn’t feel good, does it?”
“What?”
“Waiting to hear if someone you care about is going to be okay.”
No, it doesn’t.
“He’ll be okay,” my father continues. “This time. But do you want to experience that 24/7? While you’re on suspension you’ll have time to think about whether this is truly the right career choice for you.”
Thirty-six
Roman
Fifteen minutes ago, I opened my eyes to the room spinning, a pounding headache, and a body that felt like it had been through a meatgrinder.
But I’m alive. Which is not what I was thinking when I took a header off that second floor landing with Abby wrapped around me.
I tried to push her back as I fell but she was holding on too tight, tying her fate to mine. I had just enough time to twist as I fell … and that was the last thing I remembered.
On waking and learning I wasn’t in imminent danger of dying, I went looking for her. Seeing her going toe to toe with Wozniak—and that prick laying a hand on her—had me moving faster than the docs would probably recommend given my battered body.
I hated to see her upset, but I figure it’s a good thing for her to let it out. More than that, it tells me what I need to know: this woman cares about me.
So much so that she freaked out and took a walk. While I wanted to follow her, it’s probably best she takes a moment to breathe. It’s a lot to take in.
We’re both alive and now we have to deal with the consequences.
“Don’t know what you have to be so smug about.” Venti stands by my bed like the Grim Fucking Reaper. “The doc says you have a concussion, a broken wrist, and two cracked ribs from Sullivan using you as a gym mat.”
None of that matters. “She’s okay?”
“You saw her. Physically, she’s fine.” He raises an eyebrow. “Don’t know how much you witnessed out there, but she punched Wozniak.”
“Bet no one rushed to stop her.” God, I’m so proud of her.
“And there’s that smug expression again, Rossi. Give me the broad strokes on what happened in there.”
I do. Abby took it upon herself to come back when I told her to book it out of there, but she also saved my ass. I’m not sure I would have made it across that landing if she hadn’t been there to haul me back up.
“So Sullivan disobeyed an order. Again.”
“She should be written up,” I say, which is pretty much my stock speech where Abby is concerned, “but in the circumstances she went with her instincts and it played out for the best. She saved my life, Cap.”
Venti doesn’t look like he agrees or is even glad I made it out relatively unscathed, but it’s my report that will go on the record. I’ll defend her to the last no matter what anyone else tries to make of it.
“I need you to answer a question and don’t bullshit me.”
“Okay.”
“Are you in a relationship with Sullivan?”
Ah, so any hopes of keeping that under wraps are dead in the water. I’m not going to lie, not even hedge. “I am. We are.”
“And you didn’t think to report this?”
“She wanted to stay on my crew and we weren’t sure where it was going.”
Well, I was sure. But Abby needed time.
“That’s supposed to make it right? There are rules for a reason.” He holds up a hand. “And the reason is not that they should be broken, asshole. Now all I’m going to hear from Chuck Sullivan is that I have no control over my firehouse.”
He grumbles some more but I barely pay attention. I’m anxious to see Abby and soothe her after her freak out. Let her know it’ll be okay. All of it.
A nurse comes in and makes some adjustments to a pillow, then Simpson, Brooks, and Acosta put their heads around the door to check up on me. No sign of Woz, probably because he’s not in the mood for his second fist of the day. Soon the nurse is shooing them all out, and all I can think is: where is she?
While waiting, I call Chiara and tell her what happened and that she should stay home with Lena. (My sister freaked out for about sixty seconds, but calmed down enough to call me “a fucking asshat.” Twin dynamic restored.)