Page 55 of Single Mom's Firemen

I stop in my tracks and slowly turn around. “Yes, Chief?” I ask, my voice on a higher pitch than usual.

“About the whole Harriet Nash thing, I need you to—”

“I’m so sorry,” I blurt out, cutting him off. “It’s a personal problem, it spilled into your house, and it will never happen…” My words fade as Holt laughs lightly. “Chief?”

“Still apologizing for things that are out of your control, I see.”

“I don’t understand, sir.”

Holt leans forward, elbows resting on his desk. “Halle, I’m not mad. I’m not even mildly inconvenienced by Harriet Nash’s presence in this firehouse. If anything, I’m irked by her audacity. Eric and his brothers told me everything I needed to know about your situation long before that woman showed up.”

“Oh…” My face flushes as I look down.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he says, his tone and gaze softening as he measures my reaction. “Halle, you were the victim of a terrible man and clearly his mother isn’t much better. The Nash name bears an ugly reputation because of her and her husband’s deeds. These are bad people, Halle. You’re working hard and doing your best to provide for yourself and your children. There’s no doubt in my mind that you have nothing in common with these folks.”

“You give me too much credit,” I mumble, briefly recalling some of the things I witnessed and never told anyone about. “I’m not without my flaws, sir.”

“Nor was I insinuating that. Nobody in this house is pristine,” the chief replies. “But we do our best to not let our past mistakes define us while we build better versions of ourselves for the future.”

“Thank you, sir,” I say. “Even so, I apologize for the unwelcome intrusion. You hired me to get a job done, not to stumble over lawyers and sociopathic ex-mothers-in-law.”

“I just want you to know that this firehouse stands behind you,” Holt says. “You have our full support, no matter what. Legal resources, financial aid, whatever we can provide through our operations and our grants, I will make sure you have all the tools you need to fight your battle in court and keep custody of your children, Halle. Character witnesses—those we have aplenty. Every single firefighter in this station will vouch for you.”

“Sir, you’re too kind.”

“You’re one of us, Halle, and not just by blood. Not just because of who your dad was. You’re one of us because you work here, with us. You’re part of this team. We protect our own. Is that clear?”

I nod slowly, blinking back tears.

“Then you should know that I alerted all shifts at this station to stop Harriet Nash or any of her legal representatives from entering the premises without the police and a warrant present,” he says. “I’ve also sent word to an old friend in Organized Crime to take another look at any cold case files that they have regarding any of the Nash family members. If that shrew wants to take you to court, we’re going to give her one hell of a headache in return.”

I’m so overwhelmed with emotion that I feel like I could collapse, right here, right now, and cry my heart out. These are good people. Strong spirits, kind hearts.

“I’m speechless, sir, thank you,” I manage. “Can I get back to work now?”

“Sure. Just take it easy, Halle. You’re not alone in this,” he firmly states.

They keep telling me that yet I still feel alone. Chief Holt, the Danson brothers, Marie. They’re all correct in the fact that I’m truly not alone in this. I’m just used to feeling that way because it was Colby’s weapon of choice to manipulate me, to keep me by his side. He made me feel useless and helpless, lonely, unseen and unheard, because then he could step in and say he was saving me from the evils of the world. There was nothing to save me from except himself.

Oh, the irony.

I give the Chief a subtle nod and go back to my desk. Less than a minute later, Eric comes up from downstairs. I didn’t even hear the trucks pull in but upon seeing him I immediately smell the smoke and burnt wood. “Hey,” he says, smiling softly as he strolls over. “How’s it going?”

“Good. Just busy, busy,” I reply, barely able to look him in the eyes.

It’s been this way ever since I took the pregnancy test. I’ve been keeping our conversations to a minimum. Intimately, we’re still hot and heavy, still consuming one another with impunity. It’s easier to be physical. Fewer words are needed when the three of them are fucking my brains out and draining me of energy I’d otherwise burn on negative thoughts. But Eric can always tell when there’s something off about me. It’s why he keeps checking in on me.

“Why don’t I buy that?” he asks, carefully sitting on the edge of my desk.

I feel so vulnerable under his gaze. His concern should elicit a positive emotion, yet in the given circumstance, it’s bringing about getting sent to timeout vibes instead. I try to keep my eyes on the computer screen but his musky scent toys with my senses. His cologne blends with the charred wood in a strangely sexy way. It’s a familiar fragrance to me, one that speaks of home. It’s an odd thing, how much scent can bring about memories and nostalgia. More than our eyes ever can.

“I’m okay, Eric,” I say after a long pause. “It’s just a constant buildup of stress and anxiety on account of Colby still being out there, somewhere, biding his time, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike.”

“He’s never getting anywhere near you, ever again,” Eric replies.

I give him a doubtful look. “Neither you nor your brothers can be with me twenty-four-seven, every day. We can’t keep living like this, always on edge, always waiting for the monster to come back. Sammy and Luna can’t live like this, either.”

“Colby will make the wrong step, soon enough, Halle. And when he does, Dallas PD will be there, waiting for him.”

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