2011: It's been ten years since the sky literally came crashing down around Yael Malkah and upended her world. Now she's returned to New York to visit her ailing grandmother. With no other family, it's up to her to take care of the family business...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The fire truck lurched to a stop in the vehicle bay, jostling Haustin's sore body, and he groaned, biting his tongue to keep from lashing out at Carl's heavy brake foot. Not the guy's fault his back felt like it'd been tap-danced on. Four hours of nonstop calls, one right after the other. Two gas leaks, a water main break, a nasty car crash, and a big fire, one where they got stuck with cleaning up, hauling damn furniture to the curb and gutting the ceilings and walls to make sure no trace of fire lingered. Haustin slid from the rig, stretching the kinks from his muscles. Each step felt as though he was sloughing through knee deep mud and his joints cracked in protest. His years on the job were catching up to him, and it sent him flirting with an epic bad mood. Getting old sucked, not being able to do the job he loved sucked worse.
After hanging his bunker jacket on its peg, he stepped outside to call Lindsey. They hadn't spoken since he dropped his emotional bomb in her kitchen and he wanted to check-in. She'd been a constant presence in his mind, her voice in his ear, her touch on his skin when she'd soothed his injuries. It was driving him mad, considering he should be more attentive to his current relationship. All last night he'd had to work to put himself in the moment with Yael, not let his conscience wander to his marriage.
"Haustin?" she greeted.
"Hi. I, uh, how are you?"
"Good, you?"
"Bone tired. Busy shift." He searched for something to add but came up with nothing. Thankfully, Lindsey broke the uncomfortable silence before it suffocated him.
"Are you okay?"
"Jittery." Haustin sighed. "Not sure if it's the exhaustion, lingering hangover, or the fact I haven't had a pill in twenty-four hours. Whatever it is, it's kicking my ass."
"Well, if it's the latter, I'm proud of you. As long as you don't forget, it'll only get harder."
"That's what I keep hearing," he muttered. "So, about the other night—"
"Let me stop you there. I know you're beating yourself up about it, doing your guilt thing, but it was good, Haustin. I'm glad you finally opened up to me."
"Better late than never?"
"I know you're being sarcastic, but yes, exactly. At least I know what it was that took you from me."
From the day they were married, she'd possessed the trait of knowing right where to hit him, and he found himself asking, "Would it have been easier if it was a woman instead?"
"Yes."
He blinked in surprise. "Why?"
"If it was someone else, I would have known how to fight. A person is easier to compete with than something I can't see or punch."
Haustin chuckled, despite the image of Lindsey and Yael engaging in a mud fight. Then, he sobered. "Wonder where we'd be now if I'd just opened up to you?"
