Firefighter

People who respond to fire alarms and other emergencies for EMS, fire suppression, rescue, and related duties.

 

I hate going to Callahan’s on holiday.

Actually, I don’t like going any day, but on a holiday, or the days leading up to it when everyone thinks drinking is the answer to deal with their fucked-up lives, it’s crowded, and I despise crowds of people. They get in your face, say stupid shit, and cause problems.

I also don’t know what it is about me and my brothers, but anytime we’re in a bar, people like to start shit with us. And by shit, I mean fights. Every goddamn time.

Do you know how many bar fights I’ve been in?

Too many.

Do you know how many bar fights I’ve started myself?

Not as many as you might think, but I’ve been known to throw the first punch more times than not because my bullshit tolerance is nonexistent.

Us Ryan boys, we don’t take shit from anyone, and we’ll fight our way through a bloody brawl to prove it.

Jay and Owen, they might as well be Ryan boys too because they’ve gotten in their fair of shit too. Only Owen’s usually the one befriending the guy he just rearranged the face of because he doesn’t like to have enemies. Finn, he’s still learning, but we’re training him well.

Firefighters work in shifts. We work one twenty-four-hour shift, have two days off, then work another twenty-four shift and then have four days off. Some think that’s a lot of time off. Well, sure it is, but we pick up overtime here and there too.

For the most part, we work the same shifts. I’m on A (Red) shift. Jay, Owen, Finn, Evan and me . . . we’re all on the A shift and have been for the last three years. You know what that adds up to?

A lot of fucking time together.

All this leads me to where the three of us are sitting, tucked away in the back of Callahan’s in a booth near the dance floor. It’s definitely not a table you want to approach unless you have a tough shell and willing to be the brunt of the joke a time or two and not get offended.

“All right, boys.” Jay downs the rest of his beer, slaps his palms down on the table and smiles. “It’s time for me to get home to the wife.”

I smile at him while amusement flashes in Owen’s eyes. He’s always the one pitching him shit. He raises his beer to his lips in an attempt to keep his smile at bay. “Hey, it’s Christmas Eve. Maybe she’ll blow you.”

Six months ago, Jay’s wife gave birth to his daughter. Since then there’s been a lack of sex we’ve heard all about.

I’ve heard guys around the house complaining too that once their wife has a baby, sex goes out the window. Actually, Owen says that but Jay’s confirmed the theory.

Jay stands beside the table and reaches for his jacket draped over the back of a chair. “Maybe if I’m home when she gets back from her mom’s, I’ll get some.”

“Doubt it.” I chuckle, shifting in my seat to stare at Jay. “They probably spent the night talking shit about you. Her mom hates you. Why do you think you weren’t invited?”

By the dejection on Jay’s face, I’ve destroyed his hope of getting some. “Damn you, Caleb.”

I hold my palms up. “I’m just being honest. Wouldn’t want you to be let down.”

“Too late,” he barks, leaving Owen and I laughing at the table.

“Hey.” Owen slaps his hand down on the table and then points to a chick at the bar. “Isn’t that the cheerleader we helped the other day? The one where her boyfriend was ready to cut your nuts off for giving her mouth to mouth?”

My eyes follow his to a tiny blonde girl bouncing around in the corner with a guy. She’s definitely a fucking cheerleader, though when I met her, she wasn’t doing much of anything. She had been at a party and passed out from alcohol poisoning. Sure, she’s hot, but I distinctly remember her vomiting on me too. “Yeah, that’s her.”

“The only reason you volunteered to give her mouth to mouth was so you could slip her the tongue, wasn’t it?” Owen teases.

Yeah, until she puked on me. But then I remember what he’s talking about. The time I did slip a girl the tongue. I don’t regret that day because if I remember correctly, she thanked me a few times the next week for saving her life. You do something one time around these guys, and you’ll never hear the end of it. “That was one time.”

“One time is all it takes,” Owen points out. “You’ll never live it down now.” Standing, he gets up and takes a step toward the bar for what I assume is another pitcher of beer.

“Kinda like you pissing on the side of a building while King 5 News filmed you,” I add before he walks away, hoping to have the last word with him for once, and knowing damn well I won’t.

Owen’s shoulders lift carelessly. “Could be worse things in life.”

He’s right about that.

While Owen’s getting a beer, Evan and his girlfriend, Daphne, approach the booth. She hits my hand on the table, smiling brightly at me like I should be happy to see her. I’m not and pull out my cell phone like I’m busy.

“Caleb, is that Gemma over there?”

Can you see why I don’t like her now?

I don’t look up from my phone in my hand. “Fuck if I know.”

Daphne laughs as if that’s funny and shakes her head. “Well, you dated her for a year. You’d think you’d know her.”

I snap my eyes to Daphne. I know that’s Gemma in the corner of the bar and I don’t have to look over there to know. But I also don’t want to be talking to Daphne about Gemma, like we’re fucking friends. We’re not. Which translates into, I don’t want to have a conversation with her.

“I don’t care if it is her,” I finally tell her, slipping my phone into my jacket. “We’re not together anymore.”

Evan let’s out a sarcastic laugh, leaning back in the booth. He finds amusement in my words. Running his fingers along the rim of the glass, he stares me down.

Fuck him.

Evan reaches for his drink he brought with him and then slowly takes a drink, watching Jacey out of the corner of his eye.

I know I shouldn’t say anything, but I do because it pisses me off that I’m constantly immersed in the middle of their shit.

Remember when I said Jacey and Evan fuck around? It’s how they started. Well apparently, he hasn’t changed because he’s with another girl now, Daphne, and he brought her to a bar Jacey works at.

And he did that, why? To rub it in that she’ll never have the relationship with him she so desperately wants? Because I think that’s why I’m a dick to him. I know it seems harsh, but what other reason would there be to bring your current girlfriend into a bar where your fuckbuddy works?

Just as I’m about to say something to Evan, Daphne stands and smiles at him, her hands lingering on his shoulders. “I’ll be right back, babe.”

Evan says nothing in response but nods.

“Stop leading Jacey on,” I grumble when Daphne leaves the booth and Evan’s attempting to drown memories by lifting his drink to his lips. “You shouldn’t have brought Daphne here.”

His glossy stare meets mine, then flicks away. “I didn’t bring her. I didn’t even know she was going to be here.”

I roll my eyes. “Sure you didn’t.”

Evan cocks his head as if he’s shocked by what I said. “What?”

I snort. “You heard me.”

Ever since Jacey and he hooked up ten years ago, he’s been leading her on only to make her settle on being friends with benefits and assuming no one knows. But we all know. It’s a fucked-up situation.

Running my hand over my jaw, I settle back in the booth letting out a heavy sigh, wishing my thoughts would go with it as Owen returns to the booth with the beer, Jacey following behind him.

When I look at her with what I’m sure was an easy to read “what the hell are you doing?” question on my face, she turns to me barking out, “I’m on a break.” She doesn’t look at Evan and sits next to me and smacks my thigh with her hand. “Caleb, check her out.” Jacey points across the throngs of bodies swaying to the beats of the music in the club to a brunette standing with a group of women near the door. “You should go talk to her.”

Part of me doesn’t want to look where she’s pointing.

Jacey is always trying to set me up with chicks, and for a few months of my life, men. She had this ridiculous assumption I was gay for a short time.

No doubt thanks to Owen and Evan. Fuckers won’t let you live anything down.

It’s a long story, but about a year ago during a raging fire we were called to assist with in SoDo, Seattle’s Industrial District, I had to carry this dude down like ten flights of stairs. To thank me, he bought me coffee every morning for a month. An entire fucking month.

Rumors flew around the fire house he’d turned me to the other side, but clearly by the way I’m watching this chick by the door, that’s pretty far from the truth, don’t you think?

Despite not wanting to look, my eyes deceive me.

By the way she’s standing by the entrance, I can’t tell from here if she’s leaving or just arriving, but she catches my eye for sure. It’s the legs first in her skintight jeans and relaxed gray top clinging to her chest in all the right places under her black leather jacket.

If I look closely—and I do—I can see her nipples when her jacket shifts out of the way which tells me she’s either not wearing a bra or is really fucking cold. Both intrigue me. If she’s not wearing a bra, I’d like to ask her out on pure principle. And if it’s because she’s cold, well, I can certainly warm her up, can’t I?

“She’s out of your league.” Owen laughs after pouring me a beer and then taking a seat across from me. “Way out of your fuckin’ league. And besides that, I bet you fifty bucks I can buy her a drink before you do.”

I slide the beer toward me, my eyes remaining on the dark-haired beauty by the door. He’s probably right, in some ways. I’ve no fuckin’ doubt in my mind she’s out of my league, but I know I’d be able to show her a night she’d never forget before he does.

“She might be out of your league, but it’s time to get some,” Owen adds. “What about that chick?” And then he points to a blonde on the dance floor to our left, eyeing me while she lets her friend grind on her.

Two chicks. Hmmm. Possibilities sure, but my eyes automatically drift back to the dark-haired woman with the olive skin.

Owen knows I’m on a bit of a dry spell since Gemma and I broke up.

We constantly have this conversation, too. When you’re with a group of guys as often as I am, it gets talked about. Around the table, on the truck, and watching television, we bullshitted, and our personal lives are never far from the topics. Including who’s gettin’ some and who’s not. I’m on the “who’s not” list lately and Owen, well, he’s always jumping around from one list to the next. He’s probably one of those guys who’s had more pussy than the quarterback of the Seahawks. I honestly don’t doubt it. He can walk into a bar and sweet talk ‘em right out of there and into his bed. I know this because he lives with me. Being in the loft, sound carries, and I hear him all the time. Let me tell you, it’s depressing as shit when you’re not getting some yourself.

Finn approaches the booth, drink in hand and in no condition to drive home later. “Hey, fuckers, did you see this shit?” He slams his phone on the table. “Chief’s wife made cookies for the guys working C-shift tonight. How come she doesn’t make anything for us?”

Evan shrugs. “She made me spaghetti the other day.”

She probably did. Old ladies like Evan. True story. He once rescued this sixty-year-old lady from a fire, and she asked him out every day for three months. Turns out she was loaded too. There’s talk around the house he fucked her, but no one knows for sure. I don’t ask because I don’t want the details.

Owen picks up his phone and glares at the screen. “Goddamn, those lucky bastards. C-Shift is always braggin’ about her cookies, and I’ve never had one. It’s like she hates us.”

“No.” I shake my head at Owen. “It’s because you and Jay are always mauling her with hugs when she shows up.”

Finn smiles, his cheeks pink. Look at him. He’s embarrassed by the conversation turning sexual. He’s such a pussy. “Do you, you know, like her?”

What is he, thirteen?

Owen lets out a loud laugh and slides probie’s phone back to him. “Well if she ever needed her lawn mowed, I’d gladly bring my mower.”

Jacey makes a gagging sound beside me and then stands up. “Gross.”

Finn decides to take her place, and I’m once again trapped in the booth. “She’s like in her late forties.”

“Women are like a fine wine, kid,” Owen tells him before taking his mixed drink from his hand and replacing it with a beer. “They get better with age.”

“And some age like milk,” I say, getting a laugh for the distraction.

Finn contemplates this for a moment, his confused gaze darting from me, and then back to Owen. “So I should date older women?”

I smile and take a drink of my beer but don’t say anything.

Owen shakes his head immediately. “No. Date the young ones while you can. I’m twenty-eight. If I went after an eighteen-year-old, she’d laugh in my face. But a forty-year-old woman, I’m still in prime condition for her.”

I can’t hold my laughter in anymore. You can see the gears working in Finn’s mind as he makes mental notes. Poor bastard has no clue.

“As fun as these conversations are with you sick fucks, I have to get home.” Daphne reaches for her purse, one hand on Evan and the other on the table. “I gotta be at my parents’ house in the morning and then I’ll meet you at your parents’ later?”

I stare at my brother in disgust. I can’t believe he’s bringing her to Christmas morning when he knows damn well Jacey will be there.

Evan nods for her to get up. “I’ll take you.”

Daphne immediately shakes her head. “No, you stay and hang out.”

I’m sure he doesn’t mean for it to happen, but Evan’s eyes dart to Jacey’s at the bar where a guy is trying to hook up with her. And then they find his girlfriend’s. “Okay, I’ll call you in the morning.”

Just as Daphne’s leaving, Gemma approaches the table and all eyes are on me, waiting to see what I’m going to do next.

I get up and leave is what I do. To the bar for something stronger.

“Goddamn her,” I mumble, pushing through throngs of people.

Of course she fuckin’ shows up here. It’s what she does since we broke up. Follows me around town, calls me . . . anything she can think of to annoy me.

Despite me walking away, she follows me to the bar with her own drink in hand.

I take a moment to look at what she’s wearing because you’d be surprised. Black leather pants with a low-cut red top. Fuck, she’s got amazing tits. Think of Jennifer Lopez’s body, but a five-foot-two version and you’ve got Gemma Rae. I’m not denying she’s hot and despite my distaste for her, I’d probably, with a few Jack and Coke’s in me, fuck her. Just being honest. My dick doesn’t hold as many grudges as I do. But, I haven’t had whiskey tonight, so I’m still capable of making my own decisions. For now.

“What do you want?”

She pulls the black straw between her lips. “You wanna be my Christmas present?”

“No.” I snort. “Shouldn’t you be working the room? Rubbing against poles or something?”

Her lips thin. I’ve offended her. And believe me, it’s pretty fucking easy to do. We went out to dinner once, and I offended her by not letting her order first. Can I add that it was fucking McDonald’s?

She blinks, twice, and puts one hand on her hip. “What’s your problem?”

“You are.” I look away toward Jacey who’s leaning over the bar. The guy she’s talking to is staring down her shirt and Evan, who’s at the end of the bar, seems to have an eye on her too. “So leave me alone. Stop following me.” I tap the side of the bar. “J, can I get a Jack and Coke?”

Jacey frowns. She knows my decision making isn’t good with whiskey.

“I didn’t know you were going to be here,” Gemma adds, placing her hand that was just on her hip, on my stomach. “It’s not like you ever came out.”

One of her complaints when we were together was me being old beyond my twenty-six years. I didn’t agree with that assessment, but whatever.

I remove her hand and let it fall away. “But yet you had to come over and talk to me.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re such a dick.” And then walks toward the dance floor, probably to find someone to fuck.

Jacey hands me the drink but keeps a hold of it until our eyes meet. “You leave with her and I will have Owen shove a halligan up your ass when you get home.”

As we glare at one another, the guy who was just looking down her shirt steps in front of me. “Hey, baby, can I get a drink and you?”

How original. What a tool.

Jacey doesn’t miss a beat and winks at the kid, pushing her black-framed glasses up her nose. “I can get you a drink. What’ll it be?”

“You,” the kid says boldly.

Jacey’s eyes flick to mine. She’s not asking for help but I also don’t feel like listening to her. She did just threaten to shove a halligan up my ass.

Leaning into the bar with my arms rested on the leather edge, I assess Jacey’s reaction to this Abercrombie wearing douchebag in front of her. I wouldn’t care if she left with him, but I sure as shit ain’t letting him treat her like crap. She gets enough of that bullshit from Evan.

Taking a glance in Evan’s direction, he’s white-knuckled, jaw’s clenched and watching this, but he doesn’t react.

I’m not so calm and collected as he is.

Reaching out, I shove the guy away from the bar. “She’s not interested.”

By the way his body jerks back, he felt the sting of my hand hitting his chest.

Our eyes lock, and I give him one last warning to walk away. Let’s hope for his sake he takes it. I get a good look at his face now. He’s a kid with a baby face and arrogance I guarantee his fists can’t back up. Probably just turned twenty-one, out with his friends to party. Maybe he’s friends with the guy from this morning who took a ride up the guy-wires.

“Get lost.” And then I stand there, as if I’m not afraid of anyone, because I’m not.

“Girl like her, she doesn’t know what she wants until she gets it.” He laughs. “Then she’ll be begging for it.”

My eyebrows raise coolly. “Is that so?”

“Knock it off, Caleb,” Jacey warns, gripping the edge of the bar. She knows where this is going. I’ve been in a few fights in this bar.

The thing is, I can’t knock it off. My body trembles, war I don’t understand raging inside my head.

The guy with the white hat and a too tight Abercrombie shirt eyes me carefully, then Jacey. “This loser your boyfriend?”

“No, he’s not,” Jacey growls, still glaring at me.

I smile, coldly, letting him know I don’t give a shit if I’m not her boyfriend. It has nothing to do with that. My jaw tightens to the point my teeth hurt, and then I shove him again. “Don’t listen to her. I’m talking to you and I told you to walk away.”

I wasn’t going to throw the first punch. In my experience, it’s best to get them to throw the first one. Gets you out of a lot of trouble.

“You should listen to the bitch,” Abercrombie pops off with.

Jacey snorts and slaps the guy with a dirty rag from behind the bar. “Who you callin’ a bitch, asswipe?”

Abercrombie grins and raises his palms to her. “Ah, come on, honey. I didn’t mean it.”

Part of me wants to see what Jacey will do now. She’s started a few bar fights herself. She grew up with the likes of the Ryan boys around her. Girl knows some moves. I’ve seen her bust a beer bottle over a guy’s head before, but I don’t think I’m going to let that happen tonight. Mostly because it was my head she busted the bottle over, but also because this guy pissed me off and he’s going to find out what pissed off me is like. He’s a blast. Just wait.

Instead of shoving the guy again, I take a step in his direction. My chest isn’t touching his, but it’s pretty damn close. “What’d you say? I don’t think I heard you correctly. I think you called her a bitch, am I right?”

“No, actually I was referring to you.” And then he shoves me away from him and my back hits the bar.

Jacey tries to grab onto my shirt and stop me, but she doesn’t have time before I’m back in his face. He’s got balls, I’ll give him that, but I apparently get to him because as soon as I’m in his face again, he takes a swing.

His right jab catches me on the chin and knocks my bottom teeth into my upper lip.

After he hits me, he stares at me, waiting for my reaction and I take that moment to show him just how skilled I am in bar fighting.

Within a minute, I have him up against the bar with a broken beer bottle against his throat.

Remember when I said I’d been in a few bar fights?

I’d learned a few things over the years, but I also know I’m moments away from being thrown out of here. Not that it would upset me because I don’t want to be here anyway.

“Goddamn it, Caleb!” Jacey yells, throwing the dirty towel at me. It hits my shoulder and falls to the ground. “Knock it off!”

I smile at the guy, winking, my busted lip dripping blood. “Now who’s the bitch?”

Someone grabs my shoulder from behind, and I know who it is. “All right, man. That’s enough.”

It’s Owen. He’s always breaking up fights.

Running the back of my hand over my mouth, I don’t back up nor do I let the bottle go. Instead, I press harder into his throat until the glass punctures through the skin just a touch.

Owen tries again. “Dude, stop!”

Unfortunately, I can’t.

“Get out of here, Ryan!” Jacey’s manager yells at me. He’s not serious. I get kicked out of this bar all the time and never leave. But it’s enough to snap me out of it.

Taking a step back, I let the bottle fall to the ground, crashing around us.

Jerking my shoulders up, I shake away from Owen’s grip on my arms now. “Get off me.”

Abercrombie scrambles around, feet sliding against the concrete as he holds his hand to his bleeding neck. He wipes his hand over the blood and then stares at me. “You crazy son of a bitch! You could have killed me!”

I laugh and shake my head. “Oh please, it’s a flesh wound. You’re fine.”

My eyes shift to Jacey and then away; she’s pissed and so is her manager.

Owen steps in front of me again, stares at me, trying to make sense of what just happened. “What the fuck?”

I smile again, winking at my friend as I’m walking away. “Just having a conversation.”

“Conversation?” He snorts, following me back to the booth as I examine my bloody knuckles. I really should have paid attention when I broke the beer bottle. Cut the shit out of my hand doing it. “Is that what you call breaking a guy’s jaw?”

“Yeah.”

He laughs. “Thought so.”