Page 53 of Single Mom's Firemen

“No, no, hold on,” Chief Holt interjects. “Eric asked a fair question. How did you find Halle here, exactly?”

Harriet smiles. “I employ capable investigators, what can I say?”

“I wasn’t dodging the courts, Harriet. I have a certified restraining order against your precious angel, Colby,” I hiss. “Who, by the way, tried to choke the life out of me just the other day. Good and honorable man, my ass. Do you actually believe this BS that you’re trying to sell here? Or are you just afraid you’ll be embarrassed by your own progeny?”

“Helena, I honestly don’t like this new version of you. It’s all the more reason to take Luna and Sammy back where they belong. At home, with us, with their family,” Harriet says.

“The only way you’ll ever get my children is over my cold, dead body,” I shoot back.

Something shifts within me. The nausea swells into an overwhelming sensation. The entire firehouse is suddenly too crowded, and it’s getting harder for me to breathe, to focus, to stand upright. Eric catches on, squeezing my hand in a bid to keep me alert, but I can feel myself slipping away from him with each passing second.

“You won’t be able to find a job flipping burger patties by the time I’m done with you,” Harriet says, her voice low and her tone sharp. “What you did to my son is deplorable. Those children deserve a better life than what you’ve given them, and that diner fire is all the proof I need to convince the judge that you’re an unfit mother.”

Eric scoffs. “If I were you, I wouldn’t pull that thread, Mrs. Nash. Your son is currently on the run from the police. There’s a BOLO out on his name regarding his involvement in the diner fire. You should tread carefully at this point.”

“If anything, you should tell him to turn himself in at any police station in Dallas for an interview, sooner rather than later,” Wyatt adds.

If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Harriet seems surprised. Confused, even. But she can’t react, not here and certainly not now. Something tells me that Colby did what he did without her knowledge, and she has no idea that Colby was spotted on camera. There must be a fracture somewhere between them. I wonder how that came to happen.

But for now, I need her vermin face out of here before I puke my guts out.

“You’re bordering on false accusations,” Harriet tells Wyatt. “You’d better mind your tongue, boy.”

“We’re the ones who pulled Halle and your grandchildren out of that fire,” Wyatt replies. “And we’re the ones who saw your good and honorable son, on camera, mind you, running away from the diner with a gas canister in his hand.”

“I will not stand here and put up with this nonsense,” Harriet snaps, then points an angry finger at me, gold bangles jingling around her bony wrists. “I’ll see you in court, Helena. And rest assured, I will have your children. You’re unfit to be their mother.”

There’s a lot I’d like to say to her at this point but the ground keeps spinning. I hold on to Eric for dear life while Wyatt and Chase almost forcibly remove Harriet and her lawyers from the premises. The two suits look so uncomfortable; it appears they had no idea what they were walking into. “Don’t you dare touch me!” she barks at Chase. “Do you know who I am?”

“The widow of a washed-up mobster. Cool your fucking jets and get the hell out of my firehouse,” Chase replies with his usual bluntness.

I’d laugh but my knees are close to giving way. All I can do is watch as they’re escorted outside, thankful that I’m able to breathe again. The anger, the helplessness, the fear—all have built a strong relationship in my head, toying with my resolve and messing with my ability to make clear and informed decisions. I’ve been down this road so many times, I am almost clinically accurate in my own self-diagnosis.

“Are you okay, Halle?” Eric asks me.

“I need a minute,” I mumble.

“You don’t look so good,” he says, trying to keep me from fleeing.

I angrily push him away and dart right into one of the employee bathrooms, careful to lock the door behind me. My breathing is uneven and ragged, each lungful making my chest hurt. I splash cold water on my face, hoping to alleviate some of the symptoms. It doesn’t work, though. I still end up on my knees, hunched over the toilet bowl.

“Halle?” Eric calls out and bangs on the door. “Are you alright?”

“Just give me a minute please,” I shout with a trembling voice. “I’ll be fine.”

I won’t be fine. Harriet Nash found me, Colby has a line on me, and I’m likely pregnant. I don’t have Harriet’s money or her bigshot lawyers to fight her for custody. How the hell am I going to keep my kids if she and Colby come at me with everything they’ve got?

I’m terrified.

If Colby doesn’t kill me first, Harriet will certainly try every legal trick in the book to strip me of having custody over Luna and Sammy. And once she exhausts her legal options, she will no doubt switch strategies and pull a page out of her dead husband’s playbook—or worse, her son’s. Either way, I’m screwed.

19

Halle

After Harriet’s unexpected arrival and my sudden bolt for the bathroom, I give Chief Holt my apologies and leave the fire station early. The guys are out on a call, and as I leave, I make sure that no one is waiting anywhere nearby to follow me. They insisted on giving me a car to use, refusing to let me take the bus or walk anymore.

A million thoughts cross my mind, each more harmful than the other as I stop by the local drugstore, idling between the aisles for a while. It’s getting increasingly more difficult for me to focus, but I’ve decided to take my time with this unexpected afternoon off.

---