Chapter Four
Angela
I checked my gold wristwatch again. I wore it because I liked the way it looked against the sleeveless white flowy top I wore, with a pair of skinny sky-blue jeans that were ripped at the knees. On my feet, I wore a pair of platform white, strappy sandals. I wasn’t sure how to dress for the evening since Eric didn’t tell me where we were going. I hoped I dressed appropriately for our evening out. It was about ten ’til six, which meant I had just enough time to freak out about our impending date.
I checked around the bar to see Stephanie and Walter behind the bar serving the happy hour customers who’ve begun to trickle in since our four o’clock opening. I liked having the bar closed during the day. It left me some free time in case I needed to come in and do paperwork, pay bills, make orders, or anything else with less of a distraction. I checked my watch again.
“Keeping time?”
A chill ran down my spine. I turned on the bar stool I was sitting on and my breath caught as Eric’s tall, muscular build came into my line of sight.
“Just making sure I was on time,” I lied. “I hope this is okay. I wasn’t sure what to wear.” I held out my arms, displaying the outfit I chose.
“It’s perfect.” His eyes perused the length of my body, a whisper of a smile forming on his lips.
Suddenly, I felt warm despite the air conditioning in the bar. I, too, scanned his body and was relieved to see he wore a pair of dark blue jeans and a V-neck black T-shirt.
“Now, are you going to tell me where we’re going for the evening?”
“Are you worried?”
I paused, taking in the smile that lingered on his lips, as his dark eyes studied me. I could get lost in those dark pools, and the mischief swimming in them. In a husky voice, I asked, “Should I be?”
His grin widened and he stepped forward, running a long finger down my jawline. “You can trust me. I’m a firefighter.”
“I bet those same lines have been used on many women right before they dropped their panties for you.”
I noticed a few patrons glance our way when Eric let out a belly laugh at my comment.
“But they all were left satisfied, Angel. Shall we?” He held out his hand for me to walk ahead. When I did, his other hand went to the small of my back and that warm sensation I normally felt whenever he spoke occurred, only tenfold.
I bet they were. If his touch had me feeling like this, I couldn’t even fathom what the main event was like. “Thank you,” I stated, my voice sounding hoarse, as he held his passenger side door open for me.
“My pleasure.” He closed the door and rounded the front of the vehicle to reach the driver’s side. “It’ll take about thirty minutes to get where we’re going due to rush hour. I figured we could have dinner there unless you wanted to do a sit-down dinner.”
“No, I’m game for whatever,” I answered honestly. I liked the idea of him keeping our date a secret for as long as possible. And despite the quip he made earlier about being firefighter, I did feel safe with him. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t stupid. I told a friend I was going out on a date tonight and I’d give her a call by a certain time, just in case. But as I eased back into the leather seat of his car I wasn’t worried or in fear of what Eric had planned for us.
“Is it too hot in here for you?” he asked his eyes on the road. “I can turn up the AC.”
I took that as an opportunity to stare at his profile. I’ve always had a thing for men with strong jawlines, and Eric’s was beautifully chiseled.
“It’s perfect,” I mumbled.
When he glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, smirking, I knew that he knew I wasn’t referring to the temperature.
“No, I’m fine,” I tried to cover up my little flub.
“How long have you owned the bar?” he inquired, turning his attention back to the road.
I continued to stare at him. Hell, since he already knew I was looking, might as well get my fill. “A little over a year and a half.”
“You’ve always wanted to bartend?”
I shook my head even though he wasn’t looking at me. “No, I went to school for restaurant management. Well, I got my associate’s degree in cooking and then my bachelor’s in restaurant management. I did that for three years after college. Worked at one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city as a supervisor, working my way up to become a manager.”
“What happened?”
“Hm?”
“I mean, what made you leave that to open the bar?”
“Oh. Well, I enjoyed the job at first and gained lots of experience, but I realized that I enjoyed interacting with people more, you know? As a supervisor or manager in a restaurant, the only real time you get to spend with customers is if there is a complaint. Otherwise, you’re overseeing the kitchen and waitstaff, putting out fires behind the scenes, or doing a bunch of paperwork. The job can be very demanding, and you work lots of long hours. It got kind of humdrum after a couple of years, and then I had the opportunity to quit, so I did.”
“Why’s that?”
“Why’s what?”
“Why’d you have the chance to quit?”
“Oh, um…” I paused, pulling my lips in, mulling over my next few words. I dropped my gaze down at my hands in my lap. “My parents died. They left Sean and me their life insurance and some investments.” I cleared my throat. “I decided I wanted to go back to what I found fun, so I started bartending as I’d done in college, and when the owner of the bar said he was thinking of selling I didn’t give it a second thought. I bought it, and the rest is history.”
“I’m sorry about your parents. Were you close with them?”
I peered up at him. “They were my best friends.”
He gave me an empathetic look. My heart jolted against my ribcage.
“They died in a plane crash. They took a trip for their thirtieth wedding anniversary and were taking a small plane to an island destination in the Caribbean, and it crashed.” I stopped talking before I did something completely embarrassing like start tearing up. I was a talker, but I rarely talked to people about my parents. My head lifted when I felt a strong hand cover mine and squeezed, comfortingly. The balm of his touch was something I’ve never felt before. I wanted to pocket that feeling so I could pull it out on sad nights to keep the tears from missing my parents at bay.
“Ready to go in?”
I turned to stare out the window at the crowd entering underneath the neon sign ahead of us. “The fair?” I asked.
“You seemed like you’d like the fair.”
My somber mood of a few moments ago evaporated as I gazed up at the lights and huge Ferris wheel. “I’ve wanted to get here all summer, but no one would come with me.”
“You were just waiting for me. Don’t move.” He cut the engine off, got out of the car, and came around to hold the door open for me.
“Thank you.” I swooned a little when he held my hand to help me down from the SUV.
“It’s been so long since I’ve been to a fair,” I commented as we entered the fairgrounds.
“Are you hungry or did you want to ride the rides first or play games?”
“Umm.” I looked around and went to point but realized Eric still held my hand in his. I felt like a kid in a candy store. “Cotton candy, then the Ferris wheel, then that target practice game, then maybe those chili dogs.” I added the last one a little sheepishly.
“So be it,” Eric chuckled, pulling me by the hand toward the cotton candy stand. “Did you grow up in Williamsport?” he asked in between bites, as we walked.
I swallowed the mouthful of the super sweet and fluffy candy, and my eyes surveyed the passersby as they walked around the fairgrounds. I noticed a few couples, walking hand-in-hand, similar to Eric and me. The weather was in the eighties but thankfully it wasn’t humid.
“Yup. My parents met in the same neighborhood they raised my brother and me in. We went to the same schools they went to growing up. The only time I moved away was to go to college in Boston. My mother told me going away to school was a good opportunity to find out who I was and what I wanted. She was right. I discovered that I’m just a Williamsport girl, so afterward, I came back home and never regretted it.” I continued to talk about my adventures growing up and my family. It felt good sharing the happy memories of my parents with someone. Usually, I kept them hidden and locked away in my heart, only pulling them out when I was alone at night. To most people, I was the bubbly, spirited girl who rarely stopped talking or could be a listening ear when needed. I didn’t let too many people know my sadder moments though. Eric rarely interjected, save for a probing question here and there. At times, I was in awe that he seemed to be listening.
“This line is pretty long,” I commented. We were waiting for our turn on the Ferris wheel.
“Do you mind if I run to the restroom while we wait? It’s right over there.”
“No, of course not. I’ll hold our spot.”
He gave me a skeptical look. I found it sweet.
“Go. We’ll be waiting here are at least another fifteen minutes in this line.”
He inclined his head and turned toward the restrooms. I watched him walk away, taking in the bulges of his strong arms in the T-shirt and his long legs. My tongue snaked out to lick my bottom lip when I thought about the contours of his body hiding beneath his clothing. I fanned myself with my hand and then chastised myself for such lustful thoughts in public. About a man I barely knew. It was then I realized how much talking I was doing on our date so far. I talked so much about myself, I neglected to ask him anything. I bit my lower lip, feeling foolish.
“So much for being asked out again,” I mumbled.
“Angela?”
I turned to the male voice that just called my name, and my stomach dropped. Shit. What’s he doing here?
“Marshall. Hi,” I greeted, trying to infuse my voice with a cheeriness I wasn’t feeling at the moment.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, the dark brown skin of his forehead wrinkled in confusion.
“You know… just having fun at the fair.”
“You’re here by yourself?” He glanced over my shoulder. Seeing I wasn’t with anyone, his gaze returned to me.
“No,” I answered honestly, suddenly feeling silly for feeling guilty. “I’m here with someone.”
“Oh.” His face was a mask of confusion as he turned his head, again. “A male someone? As in a date?”
I swore I heard a slight edge in his tone, but I brushed it off. “Yes, I’m on a date with someone.”
He remained silent for a moment, peering down at me from his five-foot-nine height. His confusion gave way to understanding and then his eyebrows pinched in what seemed to be anger.
“I thought you had to work tonight. When I asked you out yesterday—”
“I never said I had to work, just that I wouldn’t be available tonight.” I lifted my chin to meet his gaze. I didn’t lie to Marshall, and we never discussed exclusivity. I didn’t want to hurt him, but we were still in the “getting to know one another” phase, and well, I was having doubts as to whether or not I wanted to take it any further with him.
“Well, where’s your date now? Doesn’t seem like he’s much company at the moment,” he countered, a little snark in his tone.
“I’m right here,” a deep voice responded just behind Marshall.
My stomach lurched at the sound of his voice. There was something underlying in his tone. Something that didn’t bode too well for Marshall.
“Something I can help you with?” Eric positioned his body between Marshall and I.
I attempted to take a step back to give him more room, when I felt a long arm around my waist, holding me in place.
Marshall’s eyes traveled up the full length of Eric’s body, and he unwittingly took a step back of his own.
“I was just talking to my, uh, friend.”
Eric gave a tight smile. “I see. Thanks for keeping her company while I was away.”
Marshall was being dismissed.
“Yeah, okay.” He paused, then turned his eyes to me. “Angela, I’ll give you a call sometime this week,” he said before tucking his tail and walking away.
I peered up at Eric to see his jaw tightly clenched as he watched Marshall’s back. I swallowed, hating the awkwardness of the moment.
“You should tell him not to bother calling you,” Eric said.
“Huh?”
He didn’t respond to my inquiry.
“We’re getting close.” He nodded toward the front of the line, jaw still rigid. I turned, and sure enough, it was almost our time to be seated onto the Ferris wheel.
Minutes later we were on the Ferris wheel being secured in. As soon as we were seated and buckled in, Eric asked me about something and I went on to answer, giving him another long, drawn out spiel about some aspect of my life. When he put his arm around my shoulders as we reached the very top of the Ferris wheel, I leaned my head against his shoulder. The awkwardness of Marshall’s appearance evaporated. We fell into a comfortable silence, looking over the river running along the east side of Williamsport. I couldn’t think of a time when I felt this safe and comfortable with someone I barely knew.
****
Eric
“Thank you for taking me out. I had a wonderful time.”
To my surprise, Angela smacked her free hand across her forehead, eyes squeezed shut, mouth twisted up. “That sounded so lame and cliché.”
My hands twitched and I couldn’t stop them from reaching up and cupping her face. “Sounds like the truth to me.” I brushed my lips against hers.
We were standing on the porch of Angela’s two-story home. I insisted on driving her home instead of dropping her off at the bar where I picked her up. It was well after ten o’clock at night, and there was no way in hell I was about to let her find her way home on her own.
Her arms came up, gripping my wrists. “It was the truth. I mean it is the truth,” she giggled, and that funny thing in my chest happened again.
“Good. As long as you had a good time.”
“I did. I hope you did, too. I know I ramble a lot, so I apologize if I talked too much.”
I frowned, giving her an incredulous look. “Talked too much?”
“Yeah, I tend to do that. An ex of mine broke up with me because he said I talked too much and that most guys don’t like that sort of thing.”
“He was an ass.”
She gasped before letting out another round of laughter. “You’re right; he was an ass.”
“I enjoy the sound of your voice.”
Her tawny brown eyes gazed up at me, a doe-eyed expression emerging. “You do?”
“What’s not to like? It has an airy, melodic sound to it.”
She gave me a shy smile before lowering her lashes. I loved that I could make her feel shy. I’ve watched her in her element at the bar, welcoming every patron who visited, there didn’t seem to be a shy bone in her body. Dancing, serving up drinks, and conversation in one fell swoop. She has a magnetic energy about her that most people wanted to be around.
Pulling her face closer to mine, I took her lips. I lined her bottom lip with my tongue before going all in, allowing myself to get acquainted with her taste. Her soft hands tightened around my wrists, and I pushed my body in closer to hers. When she moaned into my mouth, the sensation shot straight to my cock.
Shit. I rarely had this much of a reaction to a woman so soon. It was time to say goodnight. I reluctantly pulled back.
Her surprised eyes looked at me, questions swirling in them. Instead of answering them, I asked one of my own.
“The guy at the fair… what’s the story with him?”
“Oh.” Her eyes widened as if she forgot all about him. “We’ve gone out on a couple of dates. He asked me to go out tonight, but I’d already said yes to you.”
I poked out my lips and stared at her contemplatively for a second. “That’s too bad.”
Her eyes drooped, a sullen expression appearing on her face. “I wasn’t leading you on. He and I aren’t―”
“I meant, that’s too bad for him.”
Her head popped up.
“I was raised to be a gentleman. Ordinarily, that would mean being okay with you dating Matthew―”
“Marshall.”
“I don’t care.”
Her mouth snapped shut.
“But I’m not feeling very gentlemanly or patient when it comes to you.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “After only one date?”
“My parents were married after only knowing each other for two weeks. We move fast in my family.”
She dipped her head but not before I caught her grin.
“Don’t worry,” I moved in close to her ear, “I’ll give you a little more than two weeks.” I pressed one last kiss to her lips, unable to stop myself, and then paused to rein in my unruly emotions. I meant it about not feeling very gentlemanly. My brain was screaming at me to stake my claim already right here and now, but I knew that would be moving entirely too fast for her comfort. Summoning all the strength I had at my disposal, I let my hands drop before taking a step back, putting much-needed distance between us.
“Go inside.” I jutted my head to the door.
She hesitated but eventually turned and used her key to unlock the door. She flicked on the light just inside the door, illuminating the living room.
“I need to give you my phone number so you can text me that you got home safely.”
I stared at her for a moment before pulling out my phone. I scrolled to the contact section and typed in the name “Angel” before handing it to her to put her number in.
Her face lit up when she saw the nickname.
“I’ll text when I get home,” I stated when she handed me back my phone.
I waited for her to go inside and shut the door behind her before I bounded down the stairs and crossed the residential street where my car was parked. Inside my car, I just sat, staring at the relatively small home, adorned with dark grey paneling, white painted wooden porch, complete with a swing on it. The house was no more than a stone’s throw away from neighbors on either side, leaving little room for a yard, like most of the houses and neighborhoods in this city. In a city with the population of more than four million people, space could be difficult to come by. There was something comforting about this home. Instinctively, I knew it was the woman who lived in it. Yes, she talked a lot, but that was fine with me. I enjoyed listening. I wasn’t much of a talker myself, not with most people anyway. I was always more about action than talking. Guess that was why my job fit me perfectly.
You’ll know when you know. My father’s words echoed in my head. He’d been talking about how he decided to marry my mother. I had half a mind to call him and have him describe what he felt because I’ll be damned if it wasn’t something similar to what I felt at that moment, as I sat and stared hard at Angela’s house.
For the first time in a long time, I was looking forward to something other than fighting fires.
****
“Well, look what the cat dragged in. Hey, Corey, I thought we said we were done letting strays just walk up in here!” I could hear Don’s boisterous voice all the way in the back where I sat cleaning my equipment.
“No shit!” Corey chimed in.
I wondered what the fuss was all about. Standing, I placed a fire extinguisher, hatchet, and other equipment back in the storage area where we kept them.
“They’re still letting you bums fight fires, huh?” The voice made me pause in my tracks. I was grateful and excited the owner of that voice was back. However, the last time we spoke―over six months ago―the conversation didn’t go well at all. In fact, we almost came to blows. I was never one to hide, so I again moved to go out to the garage where a few of the rookies were cleaning off the rig, while Corey and Don stood around, welcoming Carter back to the station.
“Harvard, bring your ass over here. Look who the hell just walked into Rescue Four,” Don laughed, clapping Carter on the back.
“Welcome back, man,” I greeted with my hand out. I waited for a heartbeat to gauge his reaction, but before I knew it, Carter had wrapped me up in a warm hug. It only lasted for half a second. We weren’t the touchy-feely type around here, but that brief embrace was enough.
“Feels fucking good to be back,” Carter replied, his blue eyes circling the station, savoring everything. He stood about an inch taller than me at six-foot-three, but the expression on his face gave away his boyish admiration for where we stood. “Not much has changed, I see.”
“You’ve only been gone six months. You know how slowly shit changes around here,” Corey spoke up. “But we were about to run some drills. Perfect time to see if you’ve still got it,” he challenged.
“You can’t lose what you were born with,” Carter replied.
“That’s the spirit. Let’s show these rookies how it’s done!” Don yelped.
That was my cue to start giving out orders. “Rookies, back the rig up and then grab your gear. We’re running drills.”
“Still the unofficial lieutenant, I see,” Carter said.
“Unofficial.”
“Don’t you think it’s about time you made it official?”
I looked at him but said nothing. I’ve been thinking about it. The lieutenant’s exam was months away, and I still hadn’t committed myself to taking it. Instead of answering, I went over to the wooden table sitting in front of the flat screen television on the wall and picked up the clipboard to begin filling out names for the drills we were about to run.
Carter pulled me aside. “Hey, Harvard, I want to speak to you later on when you’ve got some time.”
“Sure thing. After these drills.”
“Thanks.”
“Now, get your shit and put it on so we can show these rookies what real firefighters look like.” We both laughed and headed out to the back of the station house where the mock obstacle course was set up. About ten years ago, some of the older guys at Rescue Four set up this obstacle course complete with rope ladders, mock fire hydrants, and all types of other shit to train on during the downtime. It was the responsibility of the men at the station to maintain the equipment for future use. I went and retrieved my stopwatch. We spent the next forty-five minutes running drills, timing one another, and showing the rookies some things that weren’t taught in the academy.
Just as we were heading back inside, the siren in the station house went off, alerting us to an incoming call.
“Class B fire at Mike’s Auto Shop,” a voice came through the walkie-talkie I grabbed on instinct from the counter. A whirlwind of activity started around me as each man began grabbing their equipment and rushing to the rig. I threw on my gear the same way I’ve done hundreds of times, barely flinching at the nearly hundred pounds of equipment I was now carrying. Knowing the keys to the truck were in the rig, I ran to the driver’s side door, just as the garage door was raised. Closing the door behind me, I went to start the engine and… nothing. What the fuck?
“Where the fuck are the keys?” I bellowed.
Don echoed my question, and one of the rookies called back, holding the keys in his hand.
“Toss ’em!” I yelled. “You stay your ass here!” I pointed at the rookie. “Never fucking take the keys out of the rig. Carter, get your ass in here!” I yelled. I didn’t give the disappointed rookie a second glance. Seconds later, I saw Carter climbing in the back of the rig with all his equipment on. I wasted no time peeling off, as Corey to my right pulled the lever for the horn, alerting the entire neighborhood we were on the move. I was honking the horn on the steering wheel, still pissed at the rookie’s mistake. It was an unspoken rule. We never removed the keys from the rig, unless it was during shift change. Looking for keys could cost us time—time that could be spent fighting fires or pulling someone out of the flames. It may seem minor, but in this job, even the little things mattered. I left the rookie at the station to ponder his fuck up, and let Carter come on this ride because, despite his absence in recent months, I trusted him with my life and the life of every man in this rig.
When we pulled up in front of the auto shop, I hopped out of the rig and quickly assessed the situation.
“Corey, you and Kyle man the hose. Don, grab the hatchet. Carter, you’re on me,” I threw out orders left and right. We were the first truck on the scene. I surveyed the scene and saw the police with a young male in custody, handcuffed behind his back. That wasn’t my main concern at the moment, however.
“Anyone inside?” I asked the cop and the young boy, who presumably started this fire.
“Nah, man, I ain’t set anyone on fire,” the boy who appeared to be no older than sixteen answered, squirming in the officer’s grasp.
I didn’t know if I could trust his answer, though. On the one hand, he could be lying. On the other hand, there may have been someone inside that he didn’t know about.
A round of sirens brought my attention behind me where I saw another rig pulling up. I made my way over to the captain of that rig and told him the situation.
“Your men are going to be on the hose while we go in.” He nodded in agreement and then ordered his guys to take over hosing down the fire. It appeared to be a little more under control than when we first pulled up. I had my guys grab the fire extinguishers to use inside instead of the water hose.
“Carter!” I called.
“Right here,” he answered.
I didn’t need to say much more than that to continue inside the entrance with Carter behind Don and me and Corey and Kyle behind him. I steadied my breathing and lowered my face mask to utilize as little of the oxygen from my tank as possible. Our tanks were supposed to last up to sixty minutes, but in a grueling fire where we’re working overtime, it could run out in less than twenty. Thick smoke coated the air, and I used my hands as my eyes, feeling for the walls, cars, canisters and anything else that was in the shop. I felt an arm to my left and knew that was Carter. I’ve come to know the feel of everyone after doing this hundreds of times over the years.
“Check to the left,” I told him.
I heard a noise in front of me. Something fell or got knocked over. I knew it wasn’t one of my guys who did it since they were behind me.
“What the fuck was that?” I yelled, then got quiet to listen for it again.
“A fucking cat!” Don yelled out at the same time I heard the meowing sounds.
“I got it!” Carter called out.
We made our way to the opposite side of the auto shop, Don and Corey putting out flames with the fire extinguishers as we moved. Thankfully, no one else was inside, just as the kid said. Twenty minutes later, I was lifting my face mask over my head as we stood outside the auto shop.
“I think he belongs to the owner,” Carter stated, holding the frightened cat up.
“Pretty sure that’s him over there.” I tilted my head toward the man who was now talking with police, or rather yelling at them to let him get to the kid who now sat in the backseat of their car.
“I’ll take it to him.” I took the cat from Carter, who hissed at me. “Oh yeah? I don’t fucking like you either,” I growled back. I hated cats and the thought of us risking our lives to save a damn cat caused me to chuckle. But when I saw the owner of the shop’s face when he saw what was in my arms, my attitude changed.
“Thank you!” The man was almost in tears. “He was a gift from my wife. She died earlier this year,” he explained, cradling the fur ball as if it were the only thing that mattered to him.
“Our pleasure, sir.” I inclined my head at the officer before turning and walking back to the truck. Corey was overseeing the rookie who came on this run while he put the hose away, while Don and Carter put the extinguishers up.
“Who’s hungry?”
“I am!”
“Fucking starving!”
“Grub time!”
They all shouted at once.
“It’s your first day back, you get to pick where we eat,” I told Carter.
He grinned. “Lorenzo’s.”
“Of fucking course,” Don stated as he shut the side doors of the rig.
“Best pizza in the city!” Carter replied.
“Up yours, Carter. Best pizza in the city is DiMaggio's, and I don’t wanna hear any shit from you either,” Don pointed at me, causing me to laugh.
“Fuck you, and Lorenzo’s it is,” I replied.
I called back to the station and had the rookie we left there order two pies from Lorenzo’s, one plain and one filled with sausage and pepperoni. By the time we got back and took off and stored all our gear, the food was delivered, and we sat down at the table to eat. The rookie who was left behind was made to restock the equipment in the truck while we ate. We spent the next forty-five minutes recounting tales of the last six months to Carter to catch him up on what he missed. By the time we were done, I was stuffed and ready to call it a night. I was working the overnight shift, which meant another night on the bed that could barely be described as a cot on the second floor of the station.
“Hey, can I talk with you?” Carter asked, catching up with me in the hallway.
“What’s up?”
“Thanks for letting me go on that run today. I know it wasn’t protocol.”
“Don’t sweat it. The rookie fucked up, and I knew you’d be in position.”
Carter looked at me before lowering his head, not wanting to reveal too much emotion. At the station, telling a man he was “in position” is one of the biggest compliments you can give. It said that he was reliable because he was always where he needed to be. It was akin to telling a man you trusted him with your life.
“I know the last time we spoke, I was really fucked up. You were telling me what I needed to hear at the time and I didn’t want to listen. I said some shit…” He broke off.
“I’ve only got two questions for you.”
He waited.
“Are you clean now?”
“Hundred percent.”
“You plan on having my back and every other man’s back like you did today?”
“Every single time.”
“That’s all I need to know.” I clapped him on the shoulder. “You and I are good.”
No hard feelings. We yelled and cursed at each other, and on the rare occasion even fought―it was what brothers did―but at the end of the day, I’d walk into a burning building knowing these men stood shoulder to shoulder with me.