Page 19 of That One Heartbreak

Pres and Cassie were both in the band, Altered Reality, along with Alex, the bassist who never knew how to shut up.

“Even though it’s atChairs?” Marley asked, a smile finally pulling at his face. Because he knew Presley dislikedChairs.Most of the men of the Hartson family did. It was a strange name for a strange tradition. Every Friday in spring and summer most of the townsfolk of Hartson’s Creek would gather together in the grass alongside the creek. They’d bring food and drinks and their own chairs to sit in and gossip for a while. The reason for the gathering having its name.

As kids, they’d loved running around by the water until the sun slid down under the horizon. Their parents would sit and chat while they played football or built forts.

And then they’d grown up. As teenagers, there’d been nothing more uncool than hanging out with your parents and grandparents on a Friday night.

But recently, now that he was a dad of three, Pres seemed to be hanging out with his wife and family there every week. Another sign that life for his brother was moving on.

He was happy for him, but he missed him, too. It was a strange feeling.

“Yeah, Mom and Dad said they’d keep an eye on the kids. Though of course Delilah wants to be on stage with us.” Delilah was Pres’ oldest, his daughter with his first wife, who’d sadly passed. She wasn’t far off from starting middle school, whereas Pres’ two other kids were still babies. Cassie, his wife, had adopted Delilah shortly after they married.

“Of course.” Marley smiled. This was better. He felt like he was back on an even keel. And after last night, he needed that. More than he’d realized.

Chapter

Six

Marley was half-asleepwhen the shrill sound of the fire alert echoed out of his phone. For once he’d managed to go to bed early. He blinked his eyes open as the high-pitched sound continued and instinct kicked in. He grabbed his phone and opened up the alert app the fire department had been using for the last few years.

Time was the biggest factor when it came to call outs. That’s why most volunteers lived close to the station. Before the first minute was up he was already dressed, pulling his shoes on and running down the stairs. He grabbed his keys because sure, he only lived a five-minute walk away, but it was a one minute drive to the station and every second counted.

By the time he parked, there were five other volunteers already there. Enough to send out the first truck. The second one would follow, just as soon as the other firefighters arrived, along with the EMT if medical assistance was needed.

As soon as they were in their protective clothing and in the truck, Tayto, their driver, pulled out and took a left. According to the alert, there was a fire in the cornfields right outside oftown. He winced because his uncle was a farmer. He knew how destructive fires could be in a tinder dry field full of crop.

“How bad is it? Anybody know?” he asked. Adrenaline was buzzing through his veins.

“Can’t see much smoke,” Tayto, the driver told him. “But it’s kinda cloudy. And dark.”

“Who called it in?” Sian, their youngest volunteer, looked at Marley. She was twenty-three and lived three doors down from the station. Along with Tayto, she was always the first there.

“Some neighbors,” Marley said, reading the details on his app. “Sounds like there’s some kind of party going on. Kids, they think.”

“Fuck, I hate kids,” Tayto groaned.

“You have three of them,” Sian pointed out.

“Exactly. Why’d you think I prefer fighting fires to being home with them?” It was a joke. They all knew that. Tayto loved his kids. He was always showing off photos of them and telling the crew about their accomplishments.

The road was clear – thankfully. From leaving the station to arriving on scene had only taken them eight minutes. By the time they were climbing out and unloading their equipment the second truck was pulling in behind them.

The fire wasn’t in the fields, which was a good thing. It was in an area of scrubland around a hundred yards from the nearest farm – presumably the neighbors who’d called them out.

It was the kind of land where long-abandoned rusty old trucks took up residence, and people threw their trash because they didn’t have the good sense to take it to the waste management center.

The fire was big – but not out of control. There were people standing by it, though, and that was their first priority.

Teenagers, by the looks of them. About thirty of them. Some were drinking. He could tell that from the bottles on the ground. Someone was playing music from Bluetooth speakers.

A fucking party where they thought lighting a bonfire would be a great plan. Jesus, didn’t he spend enough time at the local schools educating them about the danger of fire?

“Who’s in charge here?” Marley asked loudly. He pushed his way through the crowd of partying kids to the small speakers set up on a pile of logs. Flicking it off, he turned around, trying to keep his cool. He wanted them out of here before they put the fire out. So much easier to do your job when thirty drunk teenagers weren’t milling around, making problems.

“He is,” a girl said, pointing at a boy kissing a girl over by an old Ford truck. “Or he was…”

Marley didn’t recognize the kid, but that wasn’t a big surprise. “Hey!”

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