CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
LACEY
TWELVE WEEKS LATER
I stand at the podium looking out over a sea of eager faces. Down at the front sits Pemberton’s graduating class of 2017, and what a proud bunch we are, none more than Payton.
I begin my speech, a cloudless sky watching on. “True heroism is remarkably sober. It is not the urge to surpass all others at whatever cost, but the urge to serve others at whatever cost. My father was a firefighter. His name was Gregory Davis Nelson, and he was a hero.”
Through some divine miracle I manage to keep my composure through this first part of my speech, going on to discuss the merits of our class, the effort we’re put in, the many hardships we faced. At the end, I speak about Mateo Hernandez and his contribution to the class, inviting those gathered to take a moment of silence to remember him.
I finish with another quote, focusing on Payton and his beaming smile. “For many of us, it was not an easy decision to come here. To arrive, one must leave the city of their comfort and go out into the wilderness of their own intuition. The place we came looking for is not one you can reach by bus, only by hard work and risk, and by not quite knowing what you’re doing. But find it and what you discover is wonderful. What you discover is yourself. Thank you.”
The applause is thunderous, the Captain nodding as I step down from the podium.
The Dean takes my place. “Pemberton Fire Academy Class of 2017, it is my great honor to welcome you as probationary firefighters to the great institution that is the US Firefighting Service. Congratulations.”
Graduation caps whip into the air. I walk down from the stage and throw mine away, Payton pulling me into his arms and spinning us around as the class continues to whoop and shout. It’s a wonderful feeling, especially knowing I’ve found more than purpose these last sixteen weeks. I’ve found the love of my life.
We’re deep in a kiss, almost doing it on the quad, when I spot Mom walking over out the corner of my eye. Reluctantly, I peel myself from Payton. “Mom. Hi.”
She looks up (way up, given she’s barely five feet tall). “And you must be Payton.” She takes in his arms. “My, you are a strapping lad.”
“Mom!” I protest.
Payton extends his hand, smiling. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”
“Ma’am!” she gushes. “And a gentleman, too!” She winks at him. “Maybe I’ll take you home for myself.”
“Mom! God,” I exclaim, mortified.
“It’s okay,” laughs Payton. “Beauty runs in the family, it seems.”
I roll my eyes. He’s playing Mom like a freakin’ fiddle.
By the time we make it across to the new Dante’s, now a café, they’re basically besties.
If only you met him when I first got here, I think.
It seems like forever ago now.
I’d never met anyone so arrogant, so full of themselves in all my life, but I’ve come to know a different Payton, a man of kindness and purpose and utter devotion… not to mention endless stamina. If I was to add up the amount of orgasms I’ve had these last few weeks it would make for a mile of O’s.
We sit at a table outside, Payton with a lemon, lime, and bitters. I don’t think he’s been too keen on heavy drinking since our little vodka showdown.
Mom’s not holding back. She has not one, but two cocktails lined up ready to go. “Are your parents here today, Payton?”
I stiffen, but Payton places his glass down, taking a moment to compose himself before replying. “I’m afraid not. We don’t exactly see eye to eye when it comes to my career choice.”
“I can understand,” says Mom, happy to have a confidant. “I basically begged Lacey not to come home, especially after what happened to her father,” she looks at me, “but I’ve come around. He would have been so, so very proud, kiddo.”
I take her hand and squeeze, close to tears. “Thanks, Mom.”
“My pleasure, pumpkin. Now, if we can only find you a nice desk job…”
“Mom…”
She waves it off. “I know, I know, but I’m a mother. It’s my job to worry. When you two have kids—”
Thankfully, Payton cuts her off. “You don’t need to worry about a thing, Mrs. Nelson,” Payton cuts in. “I’m going to take very good care of her.”
The innuendo goes right over Mom’s head; she happily sits there sipping on her piña colada.
While the two of them continue to chit-chat, I look around at the others. Jackson’s parents are completely not what I expected—stiff-backed and dead serious. He sits in their company like a schoolboy.
I have to laugh when he sees me watching. “Kill me,” he mouths.
We’ve been through a lot, the bunch of us. I meant what I said in that speech—every word. No other class in Pemberton history has faced the difficulties we have, but we’re going to be stronger for it.
There is one glaring absence. Last I heard, Ryan had been moved interstate to a proper penitentiary pending trial. There was talk he might try and plea down to manslaughter, even push for insanity. Maybe he is insane, but he needs to face the consequences.
It’s likely we’ll be called to trial to give witness, but for now I simply want to enjoy this moment and move on.
I see Mom off and head in to start packing up. It’s not like I had a lot of things here to begin with, but there’s a certain sadness knowing this is all coming to an end.
For some bizarre reason, I decide to keep the neon thong from The Juicy Lucy. I’m about to toss the latter into the box on the bed when there’s a knock against the doorframe.
Payton walks in, nodding at the thong. “Now there’s a sight for sore eyes.”
I stretch it out. “At least it got your attention.”
He grabs my ass from behind. “This got my attention long before that strip club.”
“It did?” I tease, running my hand up his side.
“Yes, ma’am.”
A voice comes from the hall. “Get a room, you two.”
I see King standing there with a box of his own.
Payton continues to watch me. “You know, Jackson, maybe we will.”
Together, we pack the last of my things away.
We bump into the Captain in the hallway.
“Hold up there a moment,” he says, blocking the path.
I place down the box.
Hands on his hips, the Captain looks to Payton first. “Son, you put me through the wringer, you really did, but you know what?”
“What’s that, sir,” replies Payton.
A smile opens up on the Captain’s face, perhaps the first real smile I’ve seen him give. “I’m damn proud of you. Hell, I might even shed a tear when you’re gone.”
Payton smiles back. “I wouldn’t want you crying over me, Captain.”
He laughs. “Tears of joy, maybe.” He extends his hand, Payton taking it. “Well done, recruit.”
The Captain looks to me. “And you, Nelson. I don’t think I’ve seen finer in all my twenty years here at the Academy. Your dad would be proud. Top of your class, hard-working—You’ll make a fine firefighter. Money well spent,” I say,” he winks.
Money well spent?
And then I realize.
It was the Captain. He paid my fees.
“You—” I start.
He takes my hand. “Take care of yourself now.”
I shake. “Thank you, sir, for everything.”
“My pleasure, Nelson.” He takes a step back. “Now, get the fuck off my turf before I sign you up for another year.”
“Yes, Captain,” we reply in unison.
PAYTON
Lacey rolls off me breathing hard, her chest flushed. “That was…”
“Incredible?” I offer, lying there with the hands behind my back.
We’re in a five-star hotel by the airport, the only place that had accommodation this close to the holidays.
Lacey wraps the sheet around herself and stands, walking over to the window. “As for the view…”
The airport parking lot doesn’t make for a grand vista, planes soaring to the sky on the horizon beyond.
“So,” I ask her, “where do you want to go?”
“Go?”
“You didn’t seriously think we were going to hang around here in the desert for our eight weeks of freedom, did you? We are at an airport.”
She looks through the window. “You want to get on one of those planes?”
I point to the far right where the private jets are located. “No, I’m talking about one of those planes. I had the family pilot fly in this afternoon. He’s refueling right now ready for the morning.”
I can see the shock. “What exactly is it your father does again?”
I laugh. “He’s head of one of the biggest hedge funds in America.”
“Oh.”
“So believe me when I tell you you won’t be flying coach again. But you didn’t answer my question.”
“Where do I want to go?” She shakes her head. “I have absolutely no idea. This is a bit overwhelming. What about Mom?”
I toss Lacey her cell. She catches it with one hand. “What about her? Search ‘Random place generator.’”
“Like spinning a globe and pointing a finger at it?”
“Precisely.”
She starts to tap the screen. “O-kay.”
“Well?” I ask.
She tosses the cell back to me. “Somehow I don’t think the middle of the Pacific Ocean is going to make for a great getaway. You try.”
I pick up the cell and start to tap the screen, speaking aloud. “Random place generator, do your thing.”
The first search comes up.
“Where is it?” she asks.
My lips span out in a smile. “Oh, you’re going to love this.”