Erica's Choice (30 page)

It hurt like hell on earth. Yesterday it was exactly what she’d decided had to happen. And then last night Griff had shown her what it was like to have his loyalty, his love, for the three of them to really
work
. To have it ripped away now would devastate as utterly as Corey’s attitude had.

“It’s all right, Griff,” she murmured, her tone flat. She’d felt flat all day, as though she’d been run over by a steamroller. “I know what you’re thinking and you don’t have to be here.”

“Thank God,” he groaned in relief, bruising Erica’s heart further. “Because I was just thinking how much I hate this movie. Let’s go somewhere we can talk.”

Erica set him a sharp look. “Pardon?”

“The movie, it sucks. This is what you call an English class?”

Erica decided not to get into the unofficial last-day-of-school no-work policy at Ashton Heights High. “It’s based on
The
Taming of the Shrew
. It’s educational.”

“Pfft. I mean, what’s he doing there now? Singing to her in front of the whole school. You know a single high school kid who’d do that?”

Two rows in front of them, Tyler Hanley snorted. Griff made a gesture with his hand, as though the boy’s barely disguised mirth proved his point.

“It’s romantic,” Erica hissed. “There’s precious little romance in real life.”

“I don’t think it’s romantic.” Callie Pratt, who rarely said a word during class, was the one to speak. “I get sad now when I watch it, knowing Heath Ledger died. He was so young.”

Erica sobered. “You’re right, that is sad. Do you want me to turn it off, Callie?”

“’Sokay.” The teenager shrugged.

A moment later Tyler started making pretend sobbing noises, teasing Callie for her admission. Griff grabbed a sheet of paper from a nearby desk and screwed it into a ball. Then he tossed it at Tyler’s head.

“Hey!” Tyler exclaimed, shocked that some complete stranger, not even a teacher, had done such a thing.

Griff asked him, “Have you got your license yet?”

Tyler swallowed, his voice breaking a little at the intimidating look on Griff’s face. “Next year.”

“You know how many kids not much older than you I’ve seen wrapped around telephone poles because they thought dying young was something they didn’t have to take seriously?”

“N-no.”

“Hundreds, mate. That wasn’t funny teasing Callie like that, was it?”

Mutely Tyler shook his head. At Griff’s expectant look, the kid turned to Callie and muttered, “Sorry.”

“You’re forgiven, Tyler.” Callie sent Griff a blushing smile before turning once again to face the TV screen.

Erica sat in silence for several minutes, Griff beside her not saying a word either. At length she observed, “You’d make a pretty intimidating teacher.”

“I’ve done a few road-safety talks at high schools.”

“You’re really not supposed to throw wadded-up paper at the students’ heads though.”

“Rules suck. You know what else I think sucks?” Griff waited for her to turn his way. “
An Affair to Remember
.”

That long-ago conversation was burned into Erica’s memory. “You’re really not a movie fan, are you?”

The censure in his eyes knocked her flat. “Terri should have told Nickie she had a problem so he could have helped her.”

“Terri didn’t want to be
helped
. She wanted to be
loved
.”

“She was loved. Don’t you remember how it ends? The second Nickie finds out the truth he kisses her and promises never to leave her. It made no difference to him.”

Erica swiveled in her seat to stare at him, furious. “It’s too bad that life isn’t like that!”

“Corey stuffed up,” Griff conceded, his gaze narrowed. “But that’s what you were waiting for, wasn’t it?”

“You think I
wanted
him to react like that?”

“Yeah. Because then you get to be right. All men are bastards who can’t be relied on.” He pressed his index finger to her temple. “Isn’t that what you really think, up here?”

No. She wasn’t that judgmental. Was she?

The silence stretched on, underpinned by the chatter of the film and the distant rumble of thunder. She thought of her father, how it had made her heart sing each time he’d called that first year, promising to be back. But he hadn’t returned. He’d met another woman in Darwin and decided Erica was better off staying in school in Brisbane, but deep down she’d known the truth. He hadn’t done it so she didn’t have to move, but so he could escape the responsibility of a thirteen-year-old daughter.

She remembered the few lackluster relationships she’d had leading up to Doug, all men of the same type. Men who were so invested in their work they weren’t willing to give love a proper chance. And Doug. He was nothing to her now. Not even a blip on her emotional radar. Doug’s rejection hadn’t made her feel like
this
, like he’d broken her.

Because she’d refused to invest her emotions in their relationship, as surely as he had.

“Miss Shannon?”

Erica turned to see Callie staring at her instead of the movie. All five students were. Tentatively Callie asked, “Do you think it’s true? Can you ever really trust a man?”

Callie’s parents had divorced recently. She was another child of a broken home who’d begun to think of commitment as an illusion. That men left, every damn time.

Yet Griff was here, a warm solid presence beside her. When had he taken hold of her hand? Erica had no idea, but he clutched it in his as though letting her go wasn’t on his to-do list anytime soon.

“I don’t know, Callie.” Erica’s voice quavered. “I’ve had some bad luck in that department.”

Griff’s voice was a low rumble, like the thunder outside. “Luck changes.”

Callie looked at Griff. “It does?”

“Yeah.” Griff smiled at the girl, making her teenaged blood rush to her face. “But you have to learn to put your money on the winners, instead of the losers.”

Erica had been putting her money on sure losers all these years, and she’d thought Corey and Griff would be no different. She’d assumed anything she had with them was bound to be temporary—gorgeous firefighters didn’t fall in love with ordinary, damaged English teachers. How could she have anticipated what had happened? She looked at Griff and saw the love shining from his eyes, love that had been there for a while, but veiled, just as she’d tried so hard to conceal her own feelings. The truth was there for her to see. He loved her.

The truth balmed her heart, soothed her soul. She wanted so much to cling to the belief that one look could change everything. But she knew Griff loved Corey too. If Corey truly couldn’t accept her the way she was, flaws and all, Erica would never ask Griff to choose between her and the man he’d already loved for five years. She would have to release him.

Griff’s appearance here today didn’t really change anything.

Fingers trembling, Erica withdrew her hand from his. The tears that hadn’t threatened all day welled in her eyes now as she excused herself and all but ran out of the classroom.

Corey really had thought Erica must be exaggerating when she’d laid out her situation. Everyone had a certain likelihood of getting cancer, but surely no one had to deal with odds so steep that removing perfectly healthy body parts was their only chance of avoiding it.

He’d gone online while he was changing for work at his apartment, searching frenetically for options he could present to Erica. He’d very quickly realized the depths of his idiocy. As if Erica wouldn’t have already done the same thing. She wasn’t stupid. She would have investigated every single option before landing on the one she had. Corey found out about the BCRA1 gene mutation and read the information with a growing sense of despair and dread, knowing those same emotions must have blackened Erica’s thoughts for years.

Do you have any idea what it’s like to live with an axe hanging over your head?

It shamed him now that he’d thought he did know what that meant. That occasionally risking his life on the job was the same thing. But he
chose
to be a firefighter, and with the kind of safety equipment they used the danger was minimal. Erica hadn’t chosen this, and her risk was greater than anything Corey had faced for the fire service.

If she didn’t have the operation—Corey made himself learn the term bilateral prophylactic mastectomy and even look at pictures—her chances of contracting cancer in her lifetime where around eighty-seven percent.

And he’d told her to wait, take her chances. What kind of life was that for her?
It’s not living, Corey.

Corey had never felt like a bigger idiot. He’d treated Erica as though she were crazy and had made Griff so angry he probably wouldn’t speak to him again. He’d ripped apart everything he’d been trying to build with them, everything that he’d finally started to believe was coming together so perfectly. Because Erica had scared him with the C word.

He really was a piss-weak prick.

Now, having done his bit and helped Steve check the rig, Corey finally slipped into the break room. He’d already thought about calling Erica a hundred times, but was afraid she’d give him the short shrift he deserved. He hadn’t yet worked out how he was going to make it up to her—or Griff. He needed something bigger than a simple “I was wrong”.

But he had to make a start. He couldn’t squander this chance at real happiness with Erica. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing Griff either, and Corey was painfully aware that it was possible he could lose them both…to each other.

Finally he understood what it must have been like for Griff, having to watch Anna and Jack walk out of his life at the same time, and why he’d fought so hard to protect himself these past months.

Gathering the courage he should have shown this morning, Corey speed-dialed Erica’s mobile number. The phone went straight to voicemail. Of course, she’d be in school now. When the beep sounded he began, “Baby, it’s me. I just wanted to say…”

What? That you’re a fucking moron who doesn’t deserve her? That you’ll do anything if she’d just give you another chance? What was it going to take?

All he could do was speak from the heart.

Corey was halfway through leaving his message when the shrill peel of the station alarm pierced the air. The disembodied voice of a Firecom dispatcher filtered out from the PA system. Corey was on his feet and getting into his turn-out gear by the time the details of a three-vehicle traffic incident were relayed. He stowed his phone in his bag, praying it was enough to pry open the door to Erica’s heart.
Erica, please hang on. Forgive me. Let me be a part of your life. I want it as much as Griff does.

The truck’s siren wailed as the team pulled out of the station and into the afternoon traffic. When they arrived at the accident scene, any hope that their biggest problem would be angry city drivers died a quick death. The accident was bad, involving three vehicles, one of which was driven by a pregnant woman who looked about ready to pop.

Corey and Steve headed for the sedan. Corey introduced himself as though they were having a perfectly normal conversation. “My name’s Corey and I’m with the Queensland Fire and Rescue Service. Can you hear me and understand what I’m saying?”

The woman nodded almost imperceptibly. “I hit…that truck.”

“I can see that. Not to worry, we’ll have you out of there in a jiff.” A jiff was a nice vague term that suggested brevity, one Griff tended to use in situations such as this and that Corey had picked up on over the years. Corey wished Griff was here now; he was so good with accident victims. Sometimes he actually managed to get them laughing.

Damn it to hell, he loved that man. Would love him still, even if he managed to steal Erica away.

Additional police crews arrived to deal with the traffic situation, the paramedics soon after. Corey and Steve set up the hydraulic extraction equipment, the device better known as the Jaws of Life. A light rain started falling partway through the maneuver, adding to the challenge of forcing the mangled door open with the spreader. By the time Corey managed to get the ram in position, the shower had turned into steady rain, hampering visibility.

In time, the ram did its work, moving the compressed dashboard apart enough that the pregnant driver’s legs could be freed. Corey breathed a sigh of relief when he and the paramedic got her onto a stretcher and wheeled her away.

What happened next seemed surreal. Corey caught sight of a vehicle moving forward, when traffic had remained at a standstill during the entire operation. The car was looking for a way through the accident scene, moving up onto the median strip, travelling too damn fast. The roar of a V8 engine rent the air. The car was heading for the left-hand lane.

Where his accident victim was about to be loaded into the ambulance.

There wasn’t enough room to get through. If that car kept speeding forward, it was going to crash into the ambulance, perhaps crush the stretcher, the paramedic and his pregnant victim.

Corey reacted faster than he could think, sprinting as quickly as his legs could take him. He screamed a warning. Through the haze of his vision he saw the female paramedic turn, her expression mystified. She hadn’t seen the car yet. She wasn’t going to make it out of the way in time.