Jonah's Return (Detroit Heat Book 3) (2 page)

Clay watched me for a long time after I said my piece.
 
I didn’t name any names, I just said that I couldn’t take the atmosphere any longer.
 
He was aware of it, but it wasn’t so personal to him.
 
He hadn’t lost someone because of it.

“Well, I can’t stop you.
 
If your heart’s not in it, I don’t want you out there.
 
Not trying to cut you down, Jonah, because you are a hell of a firefighter, but I need guys that are dedicated one hundred percent.
 
I feel like I’m losing a brother, and that’s after one hell of a string of bad luck this year.”

Clay spoke with genuine wisdom.
 
Between Kade and Rico, Engine 37 was hurting.
 
It only made things harder for me to see the rest of the guys not dealing with that hurt.
 
They were covering it up and over-compensating to the max, but it was like Rico never existed; it was like Kade’s accident never happened.

“It’s not just this year, Cap.”

Clay gave a knowing smile.
 
I hadn’t mentioned Abbey once during my speech, but he knew.
 
When it all went down, Clay did everything he could, but in the end, I had already been defeated.
 
The pressure caused me to break up with her, and a few months later, she transferred from Engine 37 and out of my life.

I heard from friends that worked at headquarters that she was doing well, and it made me happy.
 
Well, happy tinged with sadness and regret.
 
I
knew
she’d do well, but it stung, anyway.

“I know it’s not just this year.
 
Jonah, life is messy.
 
Some lives are messier than others, and it’s not all our own mess.
 
If you really want out, I’ll autograph your request.”
 
He pulled a pen from his desk drawer.
 
“But my autograph doesn’t take you from point A to point B.
 
It takes you from point A to who-the-fuck-knows what point.
 
I hope you find out what it is you really want.”

I nodded.
 
With nothing more to say, I stood up.
 
Clay handed me the transfer request, his signature at the bottom.

I knew what I really wanted.
 
I was going to do maybe the hardest thing ever: I was going to try and convince Abbey to give me a second chance.

The start of another week slapped me around a little until I beat it back with coffee.
 
I had a few appointments lined up.
 
Workman’s comp, transfer requests, and any number of other forms that required interviews with the fire fighters submitting them.
 
My current job wasn’t nearly as exciting as my previous one, but it paid the bills.
 
I told myself that I was still making a difference in my community, even if it was behind the scenes.

When Jonah dropped down into the chair across from my desk, I was shocked.
 
Shocked and then embarrassed.
 
I had completely forgotten about the form he submitted weeks before.
 
His smile reminded me of everything in a heartbeat.

That stupid smile
, I thought.
 
It brought back so many memories.
 
I remembered the first time I saw it.
 
I was a rookie and nervous about my assignment to Engine 37.
 
Its reputation had been spread around the academy.
 
When my assignment was handed down, I was fearful.
 
That fear must have been tattooed all over my face when I met the crew, because Jonah gave me a warm smile that managed to set me at ease.
 
Not only did it set me at ease, it also set our relationship in motion.
 
Despite all my fears and the bad that went along with being a fire fighter, Jonah had been able to wash all that bad away.

As soon as the crew found out what we did on our days off, they set to work splitting us up.
 
Women can't fight fire; couples can’t fight fire; men can't do their job with a woman around.
 
We heard it all.
 
At first, Jonah didn’t pay it any mind, but the weeks dragged on, and it wore him down.

It hurt when he ended things between us, even though in retrospect I saw it coming.
 
I guess at the time, I thought we’d be strong enough to make it through.
 
Jonah must not have shared my thoughts.
 
He ended it quickly.
 
He used the usual lines:
It’s me; I can’t handle this pressure.
 
Bad work environment, blah blah blah.

I knew he was right, but it was still crap.

One month later, I couldn’t take it anymore.
 
I got no respect from the guys, and I felt awful working with a man that I had fallen for.
 
He had made me feel welcome at a station where no one wanted me.
 
He had made me feel competent when everyone else called me “girlie.”
 
He had made me feel sexy when everyone else called me a distraction.
 
What made it all unbearable was that I know he still felt the same way I did, we just couldn’t be together.
 
My transfer was accepted quickly.

Sexual harassment is something the department doesn’t like to mess with, so if they have a request to get women out of station, they don't waste time.

Two years later, and I still thought about him.
 
I thought about him on dates with other men, and I thought about him when I was in bed with other men.
 
God damn Jonah Swain.

I stared.
 
He may have been stuck on my mind, but I wasn’t a pushover.
 
He’d be the first to speak.

“Good to see you, Abbey.”
 
He was telling the truth.
 
I could hear it in his voice.
 
There was embarrassment mixed in, as well.
 
Jonah had been thinking about me.
 
Maybe not regret, but at least I wasn’t just another ex, or even worse; a faded memory.

With a freezing cold voice, I said, “Jonah.
 
Give me a minute to dig up your request.”
 
I turned to the stuffed filing cabinet behind me.
 
I could have pulled up the digital copy, but I didn’t want him to be just in and out of my office.
 
I don’t know why.
 
Maybe to torture, maybe for a bit of sport.

Jonah must have felt the tension, because he broke the silence, “So, how’ve you been?”

Without turning back to him, “Hanging in there.
 
Hanging in there.”
 
I wasn’t about to give him anything but ice.
 
My fingers found his file, but I kept flipping.
 
I took a little bit of pleasure in dragging things out.

After my nothing-reply, I thought he’d stay silent, but he didn’t.
 
After he cleared his throat, Jonah asked, “You like this job?
 
I mean, is it satisfying?”

My fingers stopped flipping through the folders.
 
It was a plain question.
 
Just an ordinary one, but it buried itself beneath my skin.
 
I probably shouldn’t have taken it so personally, but I felt like Jonah was rubbing salt into the wounds.
 
I thought those wounds had healed over, but a few sentences from my old lover, and they were torn open as if no time had passed.
 
Two years on, and they were as fresh as ever.

I spun around, my finger aimed right at him.
 
I was ready to lay into him with every bit of my being.
 
The sexism, the elitism, the “brotherhood;” I was ready to trash it all and lay the blame on him for everything.

Jonah saw it, too.
 
He moved back in his chair, no longer leaning towards my desk.
 
His eyes widened in panic.
 
It must have all hit him in that moment.
 
The lingering doubts.
 
I hope that’s what hit him the hardest.
 
He and I had been amazing together.
 
Amazing for forty-eight hours, terrible for twenty-four.

There was no plan.
 
I didn't have some grand speech rehearsed.
 
Stream of consciousness got the better of me.
 
“Is that why you came here?
 
To see what I’m like now?
 
To see what it means to say goodbye to your dreams and a relationship?
 
Well, here it is.”
 
I would have liked to have made my voice get lower, but it did the opposite as emotion began to well up inside.
 
It grew louder as I went on, “Here’s my office.
 
My desk that I never leave.
 
Christ, Jonah.
 
Still an inconsiderate dick two years later.
 
I just didn’t think it would still hurt.”

With the outburst over, I looked around.
 
I was leaning over my desk, yelling at Jonah like he was an employee being chastised.
 
Beyond him, another office worker was frozen in the hallway right outside my open door.
 
She stared until I met her eyes with an unwavering glare.
 
They quickly found the floor, and she moved on.

“Uhh.”
 
Jonah was stunned, and to be honest, so was I.
 
I was upset with him being dragged back into my life, but he didn’t deserve it.
 
“I meant how do
you
like it, because that’s what I’m wanting a transfer to.”
 
He looked baffled, and I felt so embarrassed that I couldn't stand it.

My face flushed to the point where I had to turn away.
 
Oh god, so stupid.
 
The requested department jumped out at me on Jonah’s form: HQ.
 
How did I miss that? Jonah was transferring out of line-of-duty work?
 
I didn’t understand.
 
He lived and breathed for fighting fire.
 
Half the time, I wasn’t even sure if he could read, and now he wanted to work downtown.

I had to turn back to him, and I had to apologize.
 
It was hard, but I managed.

“Jonah, I'm so sorry.”
 
I let out a heavy breath.
 
I had made a complete fool of myself.
 
Nothing like letting someone know you don’t forgive and forget.
 
“I...I thought you were throwing this in my face.”
 

I turned and waved a hand around my small office.
 
I had grown to love it, but thinking about being on the front lines, battling blazes, and helping people when they needed it most made my office feel drab and unimportant.
 

I’d lived in my own head for far too long.
 
The breakup ached and tore at my insides, and within five minutes of sitting down with Jonah, I was unloading some severe hostility onto him.
 

I watched him.
 
My heart twisted inside my chest as he spoke.
 
“It’s all right. No, I’d never do that to you, Abbey.”
 
He had always been so patient with me, and it only twisted me up all the more inside.
 
He didn’t deserve that hostility.
 
Not
entirely
anyway.

Sitting back down, I said, “I know you wouldn’t.
 
It’s just been so long, I don’t know.
 
There’s no excuse for it.
 
I’m sorry.”

Jonah had taken so much abuse from me in the past.
 
My frustrations were vented as soon as we got off shift, and I carried that through our days off.
 
I tried not to, but it wasn’t easy for me.
 
I wanted to fit in and be just one of the guys, but it was hard to accept that it would never happen.
 
The other men who worked on my shift would never get comfortable as long as I was in the room.
 
It was obvious that I’d never earn their respect.
 
Our breakup was the last straw.
 
There was no way I’d ever be accepted after that.