Page 21 of Chasing Danger

I didn’t realize how worried I’d been until Rowan safely reached the lower half of the ship. It had worked, just as D’Angelo promised. We finished the tour of the first ship and moved on to the next one without issue, and I began to realize that D’Angelo might be much more dependable than I first thought.

When he promised something, it happened.

The first ship was my favorite, but the others were interesting as well. By the second ship, it was clear that Rowan was too invested in what the tour guide was saying to pay much attention to us, so D’Angelo and I had a chance to talk. I told him about how I first met Ashes in elementary school, as they were the only kid who didn’t bully me over my scars. That, of course, led to a discussion about what caused my scars in the first place.

“It was a house fire,” I said, instinctively bracing against the memory of pain.

My arm was looped through D’Angelo’s with my hand resting in the crook of his elbow. As soon as the word “fire” left my lips, my skin began to feel hot all over, and I gripped the sleeve of his suit hard enough to crease the fabric.

“I was only seven. I was supposed to be at a neighbor’s birthday party, but I came home early because the other kids were making fun of me. Rowan was only a few months old. As soon as he was diagnosed, my dad left. I guess he didn’t want to deal with a handicapped child. Seven year olds can be cruel. My father was gone, and my new brother was disabled. It gave them too much ammunition. They couldn’t help teasing me. I didn’t want them to see me cry, so I just left and went home since it was only a few houses away.”

So wrapped up in my memory, I didn’t notice the coil of rope lying stacked on the floor. I nearly tripped, but D’Angelo guided me around the obstacle. He didn’t say a word, just silently kept his arm looped with mine and let me talk.

“I was tired from crying and fell asleep in my room. When I woke up, everything was on fire. I think the fire department later said something about faulty wiring in the walls, but I’m not sure. We had fire drills at school occasionally. I knew I needed to leave so I started trying to make my way downstairs on my own. One thing they never get right in movies. How loud fire really is. The air is so dry it seems to amplify every vibrational echo until the crackle of burning wood is all you can hear.”

At this point in the story, my chest felt heavy and my breathing strained. I had to pause and step to the side of the ship to look out over the water and catch my breath.

D’Angelo joined me, peering over the railing as well so our reflections floated next to each other in the harbor.

“Where was the rest of your family? Surely your neighbor would have told them that you went home.”

“I don’t know,” I shook my head, dislodging the image of fire dancing in front of my eyes and focusing on the salty smell of the harbor. “It wouldn’t have mattered, though. My mother and grandmother were outside the house when the fire started. It spread so fast, the whole house was burning by the time they realized what was happening. I’m told that my mother tried to go back inside, but the fire department stopped her.”

My lungs felt clear again, no longer choked with the memory of smoke, so I stood taller and looked D’Angelo in the eye.

“I’m not sure how I heard my brother crying over the sound of the fire, but I did. I remember turning away from the stairs to go to his room instead and picking him up out of his crib, but after that it’s all kind of a blur. The smoke was getting to me by then and I was having trouble staying on my feet. I’m told I came stumbling out the front door with my clothes on fire and my brother clutched in my arms.”

I gestured at the scar on my face. “Treatment for my injuries took months, but I’m glad if someone had to get burned it was me. Rowan didn’t need to deal with this on top of his own illness. I should warn you now, the scars on my face aren’t the only ones. Just the most prominent. If that bothers you, then you should walk away now. I’ve had someone throw up when they saw me shirtless before, and I’d rather not have to deal with that kind of blow to my ego again.”

D’Angelo regarded me for a moment with a serious eye, then suddenly started unbuttoning his shirt.

“Wh-what are you doing?” I stuttered and tried to pull his shirt closed.

He shrugged me off, but he didn’t remove his shirt all the way, just pulled it aside enough to reveal the left side of his chest. A cluster of small round scars marred the skin there.

“My grandfather used to put his cigarettes out on me because he thought it would toughen me up.”

Without even blinking over such an admission, he rolled up one of his sleeves to expose his forearm and the long scar running all the way from wrist to elbow.

“The first person I slept with stabbed me with a kitchen knife because I wouldn’t agree to marry them. Scars are just skin with memories. There’s nothing inherently wrong or ugly about them, and there’s no reason to be ashamed of them. If anything, people without scars should be the ones ashamed. It means they haven’t really done anything worth remembering.”

I ran one finger over the scar on his arm, feeling the way the flesh rose up like a rope embedded under his skin. A strange desire overcame me. I wanted to kiss it.

I wanted to kiss him.

On instinct, I leaned closer to him until I could feel the natural heat radiating off his body. He was taller than me, so kissing him would be difficult, but if I tugged on his lapel I could probably convince him to lean down.

I would have kissed him right then on the deck of the USCG Cutter, if it weren’t for Rowan’s timely return. The sound ofmy brother’s voice reminded me that we were in public where anyone could see us. Now was not the time for intimacy.

Running my hand over his suit, I tried to smooth out the wrinkles I’d left in the fabric, but it was a lost cause. We returned to the tour guide, a little more rumpled than we had been before.

Out of all the ships in the harbor, the last one, the USS Torsk, was the most modern. At least, modern in comparison to the other ships, being only eighty years old.

It was also a submarine, which automatically made it Rowan’s favorite. He was starting to get tired. I could tell from his slumped posture in the chair, but he refused to take a break. The nurse hovered close by Rowan’s side, assisting him however she could, and I found myself immensely grateful that D’Angelo had brought her. I was used to taking care of my brother, but it was also nice to let someone else take the responsibility.

Inside, the submarine was much darker than the other ships had been. Every doorway had a six-inch bulkhead that would have been a nightmare to maneuver a wheelchair over, if not for the boards laid over each one to create a small ramp.

The control room of the submarine was definitely the most interesting part of the whole thing, but it was narrow and small. There was just enough room for Rowan, the nurse, and the tour guide, so D’Angelo and I waited in the hallway outside.

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