Nothing Left to Burn (6 page)

“Come on, Gage. I know what he did, but it doesn’t matter. Chief’s not happy with John. He was outside, listening, and he says it’s up to me, to
us
, to turn this around.”

Gage rolled his eyes. “What exactly are we supposed to do?”

“What we’re trained to. Work as a team.” I lifted a shoulder. “Come on, you were here.” I waved a hand around the room. “You saw what he did. The lieutenant isn’t even teaching this class. He’s turning it into some kind of spanking. None of us are gonna learn anything like this.”

Gage sighed. “Yeah, that was kind of hard to miss. But what do you think we can do?”

“Work one-on-one with him, get him caught up to the rest of the squad.”

“Wait, you mean me?”

I shook my head. “Not just you. All of us.”

“What about the drill session?”

“That’s at the end of the month. And that’s a really good goal to shoot for.”

Gage grunted in frustration. “Fine. I’ll get the guys to help. Just do me a favor and don’t fall for this one too.”

My whole body clenched, and I gasped in a breath. I could feel my face flaming. I never should have told Gage I liked Matt Logan, never should have asked for his advice. Not that it helped. Matt never treated me like a girl. Neither had Gage. Maybe that’s the real reason everyone called me
Man
.

“Really, Gage?”

Gage put up a hand and shook his head. “Just looking out for you, Man.”

All of a sudden, I hated being called Man.

Chapter 5

Reece

I’m gonna make you see me. Make you hear me. Make you fucking acknowledge that everything I am is because of Matt and everything I’m not is because of you.

I kept my eyes pinned to my textbook, but I hadn’t been able to concentrate on a single word. Amanda and Gage had their heads together in a whispered meeting at the back of the room. I should get my stuff together and get ready to leave. It wouldn’t be long now. Christ, I knew he was pissed off, but for a minute, I’d been afraid that he’d say it—

No. Don’t go there.
I shuddered.

I wasn’t John Logan’s favorite person. I’d known that for—hell, maybe I always suspected, down deep inside, where I was afraid to look. Matt was a year older than me and Dad’s favorite. Mom had albums full of pictures of Matt in tiny firefighter costumes, mimicking Dad’s poses and expressions.

There weren’t many photos of me.

I tried to tell myself it was because I was the second baby. That my mother was exhausted from taking care of not one but two toddlers. If either of those reasons had been true, it would have sucked, but I could have accepted them.

Eventually.

But the truth was it was entirely my fault. My mom, my grandparents—both sides—even my favorite Aunt Sue all told me that when I was a baby, I’d screamed for hours, slept very little, and needed speech therapy just to say
da-da
. By the time I’d begun school, I’d been tested for Asperger’s and ADHD and didn’t have any friends. Dad and Matt had gone on countless camping and hunting trips—just the two of them. Every time I’d asked to come, Dad had told me, “When you’re older.”

That day had never come.

Things got way better by the time I’d hit fourth grade, when a particularly attentive teacher discovered I was “brilliant.”

Her word, not mine.

She claimed all those development problems were really just frustration. My brain was whipping along at warp speed, but my body couldn’t keep up, so I had a lot of meltdowns and tantrums. With the right guidance and structure, I thrived. I was put into a gifted program, and I loved it. I joined the chess club where I met Alex, the first real friend I ever made. But it turned out I wasn’t brilliant at all. I just tested well because I never forgot anything. My teacher said I have an eidetic memory.

But Matt really was special. I could have resented him or been jealous of him, maybe even hated him. But he wouldn’t let that happen. Maybe he felt guilty. Or maybe he just really liked me. The reasons didn’t matter much, but Matt used to do things with me that Dad never did, like take me to the lake and toss me a ball. Eventually, I learned to bypass Dad and just ask Matt whenever I needed something.

I shoved a hand into my pocket, took out my note, and scrawled a few more lines. I refolded the paper and squeezed my eyes shut.
God, Matt, I miss you so fucking much.

A throat cleared, and I jerked in my seat.

“Hey, Peanut.” A skinny blond kid smirked down at me, hands buried in his pockets—the same kid who’d managed to put on the entire bunker gear ensemble in one minute, fifty seconds.

“My name’s Logan.”

The kid’s grin got wider. “Your dad calls you
Peanut
. He really hates you.”

You
have
no
idea.
For as long as I could remember, Dad called me
peanut
butter
cup
because of my name. I never understood it. Did he name me Reece just so he could make fun of me? I said nothing as the kid’s eyes raked me up and down.

“Did you really kill your own brother?”

“Back off, Kev.” Max, the kid with all the muscle, came to my rescue.

Kev shot a nervous look at Max, the tall, older guy kicked back with his feet on the table. A diamond stud glittered in his ear. He looked like he was twice our age. I nodded my thanks. All I got back was a shrug.

“You’re taller than your brother, but skinnier. Probably can’t even lift a hose line.” The skinny kid tried to rile me again, but this time in a lower voice.

“Won’t know until I try.”

“I can lift the two-and-a-half on my own.”

“Bullshit.”

I turned at the sound of another voice and watched another boy approach. Not very tall, but he was built like a bull, all shoulders and broad chest. He had dark, buzzed hair and shuffled when he walked. “Don’t listen to Kevin, dude. The only thing he can lift around here are the doughnuts.”

Kevin punched the wide kid’s shoulder.

“I’m Ricky Acosta, but everyone calls me Bear. That’s Kevin and Ty.” He pointed to the kid I’d met earlier. “And that guy’s Max.” Bear shuffled around and jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the guy I’d figured was already a full-fledged firefighter. Tall, dark, and ripped, with a line of fuzz outlining his entire jaw, Max looked like one of the guys in the last firefighter calendar Matt brought home, pissed off he wasn’t in it. It hung over the dartboard in our basement—one of the things Mom absolutely refused to get rid of.

“He’s a junior? I thought he was, like, twenty-five.”

Bear held up his hands with an anxious glance over his shoulder. “Shhh, don’t say that too loud. It’ll go straight to his head, and there’s no room in there for more.”

Max lifted his middle finger and went back to reading the text.

I snorted. I knew the type well. “Are those two a couple or something?” I lifted my chin toward Amanda and Gage, still whispering at the back of the room. It had been five minutes already.

Bear laughed. “No way. Man doesn’t date, and Gage does whatever she needs him to do.”

“She’s in charge. The squad captain,” Kevin added.

I looked from Bear to Kevin to Ty. “Man?”

“Amanda. We call her Man. Makes her feel like one of the guys,” Ty said proudly.

So noted. “Is she really in charge?”

“It’s not official or anything. Every year, we all vote which kid is the best leader. That’s Amanda now.”

He didn’t need to tell me that Matt used to be the squad’s captain. Kevin slid my book across the table and leafed through it. “So what’s your deal, man? Why you here?”

I eyeballed all three guys. I stood up, slowly eased a hip to the corner of the table, and stated the obvious. “I want to be a firefighter like you guys.”

“Bullshit,” Bear said again. “If you wanted to be a firefighter, why didn’t you start squad when you were twelve, like everybody else?”

Crossing my arms, I shook my head. “I wasn’t allowed. My dad wouldn’t sign the form.”

Ty and Kevin exchanged shocked looks. “Your dad? Lieutenant John
I
eat
fire
for
breakfast
Logan actually said no? Why the hell would he do that?”

I ground my teeth together. Because Matt wanted to be a firefighter first. And Dad always gave Matt what he wanted. “Doesn’t matter. My mom signed the damn form this year, so I’m ready to catch up.”

Another loud laugh, another round of exchanged glances. “Yeah. Good luck with that.” Kevin snorted. “So what’s the real story with your brother’s crash?”

“Shut up, Kevin.” Bear nudged him, and the skinny kid almost fell. Then he glanced at the wall clock. “Five minutes left. Better start reading.” He slid my book back across the table and then angled his head at me. “You got any idea what causes green fire?”

I shook my head. “No. Why?”

Bear lifted his massive shoulders. “I heard the fire marshal talking to the chief and—”

“Oh, the arson?” Kevin’s eyes went wide.

“Shhh.” Bear looked over his shoulder. “We’re not supposed to speculate, remember?”

“What arson?” I didn’t hear anything. Then again, it’s not like my dad ever talked about stuff with me.

Bear glanced around again. Amanda and Gage were still talking quietly at the back of the room. Max, the tall kid, was still kicked back in his seat. “Three so far this year. All empty houses.”

“How were they set?”

“Don’t know. The chief won’t talk about the details with us. All I know is that there was green flame at the last one. It was up on the north side of the lake, on Greenley Street.”

Before I could say anything, Amanda was in front of me. Bear shuffled to his seat, taking Kevin and Ty with him.

“Hey, Logan. He’ll probably look to trip you up again.” She shifted her weight and looked over her shoulder at the door.

I folded my arms. “So?” What the hell did she care?

“Here’s what you do. In two minutes, when he starts firing questions at us, questions that aren’t in this book, you remember this. The most important thing you have to know about SCBA is how to take care of your tank. It holds maybe twenty minutes of oxygen. You check it before and after every shift. Make sure all the pieces are working and not cracked—face mask, hose, gauge. Make sure the harness straps aren’t tangled and the buckles are intact. Check the test date, and make sure your cylinder is a hundred percent full. If it’s not, you need to recharge it.”

Jesus. I could only gape as Amanda rattled off all the SCBA maintenance tips. “Recharge it. Right. How?”

“I’ll explain that when we have more time.” She waved a hand. “Next, you should always make sure the cylinder and the remote pressure gauge’s readings match within ten percent. Got that? Ten percent.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay.” I’d never needed to take notes before. So why was I suddenly wishing I’d written all of that down?

“Last one. If he asks you when you should wear SCBA, the answer is
always
, okay? Even outdoors.”

“Okay. Why are you telling me this?”

“Because outdoor fires can still burn toxic.”

“No. I mean why are you doing this? You made it pretty obvious you don’t like me and don’t want me here, and now you’re helping me. Why?”

She glanced over her shoulder again. “No, I don’t. But I also don’t like the way John’s using my class to get back at you. So don’t let him, okay?”

Don’t you let him. Promise me!

The scrape of her chair jolted me out of my memory. Amanda took her seat just as my father strode back into the room, glaring holes through me.

Amanda was right; Dad did fire questions at the class, his face growing redder with each answer I nailed. By the time class was over, I was smiling.

Dad wasn’t.

Chapter 6

Amanda

“I’m sorry.” Gage pulled the car to the curb and shifted into park. “About before. What I said about Matt.”

I lifted a shoulder and just kept looking out the passenger side window. I heard Gage sigh heavily.

“Man, listen.” He shifted. “I miss him. A lot. Matt was…God—”He pounded the wheel. “He was the best. But Reece
isn’t
him. I keep seeing you stare at him with hope in your eyes.”

My head whipped around. “You’re seeing things, Gage.”
Hope
was something I hadn’t had since I was nine and a lawyer promised me my mom would come home soon.

Gage held up both hands, surrender style. “You gonna be okay?”

Slowly, I nodded. “He’s ours now, Gage. Like it or not.” And I really, really did not.

“A brother, Mandy.”

I twitched. Oh, I knew he meant a member of our brotherhood. But it felt like another reminder. Like I’d ever forget Reece was Matt’s brother? I flung my head back against the seat and groaned. “This sucks, Gage. Did you see the way John looked at him?”

“Did you see the way Reece looked at John?” Gage countered, shaking his head. “That kid’s messed up. I just—” He broke off, biting his lip. “Forget it.”

“No, what?”

He searched my eyes. “Mandy, just…just stay out of it. You always get all messed up over family stuff. It gets into your head,” he said, swirling a finger next to his own.

“No, I don’t.” I looked away.

Gage cocked his head and smirked. “Oh really? So you’re saying that the time Kevin’s mom flipped out when he got hurt during class had no effect on you at all.”

I blew out a loud sigh. Okay, so maybe I was a little upset when my guys had problems with their parents or something. Didn’t mean it messed
me
up. “I was worried for him. She said he had to quit.”

“Man, you threw up. You actually puked and don’t think that has anything to do with your own mother? Denial much?”

I shot him a glare. “She had nothing to do with that.”

Gage shook his head. “Really? So why haven’t you gone to see her?”

I sucked in a sharp breath. “That’s really none of your business.” I hadn’t seen my mother in a year. As far as I was concerned, I’d never see her again.