Page 3 of Judgments of Fire and Desire

I quickly removed my respirator before responding. “You’re very welcome, sir. Genesis Farris. And yours?”

“Kyrie Patrick.”

“Judge. I’ve heard your name before. You don’t play in that courtroom. Let them check you out, and we can talk when they’re done.”

He nodded and released me from his grip. They immediately put an oxygen mask on him. As I watched them, a fellow firefighter nudged me. I turned to see Micah standing there. She was another female firefighter at our station. She and I were the only two in the city.

“You seem to be smitten.”

I gave her a side-eye and said, “I wouldn’t say smitten but definitely intrigued.”

“Well, I heard he was a jackass, so be careful.”

I glanced at her, taking her words at face value. I would much rather find out for myself. Prejudging people based on someone else’s experience with them was something I tried not to engage in. Just because they didn’t have the greatest experience didn’t mean I wouldn’t. She should have known better than that. People talked badly about her before she joined our station. Had I listened to them, she and I wouldn’t have been friends.

As I watched them give the judge oxygen, my chief approached. “Good work, Farris.”

I tore my gaze away from the judge and nodded, then followed him to the huddle of firefighters. The fire was just about out, and we had successfully removed everyone from the building safely. There was a slight debriefing for us, then we left the rest to the firefighters that were already there. My shift was about to be over, and I was grateful. I was ready to see the inside of my house for a change.

I was so behind on housework, despite my grandmother doing my laundry. She said it gave her something to do. However, my furniture was dusty, the floors needed mopping, and the refrigerator needed to be rid of leftovers since before my two-day shift started. That food probably had my entire fridge stinking. At least I had four days off. It would only take one day to catch up on housework.

I would use the other days to spend time with my mama, grandma, and my brother. I tried to remain close to my family. Death had visited us when it took my father from us. He was killed in the 9/11 terrorist attack. It was why I was a first responder. My dad was a fireman. We were living in New York, and when the first building collapsed, my father was crushedbeneath the rubble. It was my fourth birthday, and my party was supposed to be that weekend. Instead, we were mourning the loss of my dad.

I didn’t remember all the details of that day, but I remembered the most painful parts: the phone call saying my father was missing, the search for him, and that night learning of his death. It was the most horrible time of my life. My memories of my dad seemed to be fading daily, and I hated that. After the one-year anniversary, my mama packed up my brother and me and moved back to her hometown of Beaumont, Texas.

She’d met my dad in college at NYU, and after falling in love and marrying him, she stayed there to start a family. She figured she could teach anywhere. Her mother had assured her that the family she was born into came second to the family she created. Whatever was best for her and my father was what she should do. I loved my grandmother for that, because she didn’t make my mom feel guilty about staying away from home.

My mama said she visited twice a year and that had worked for her. So once my dad was killed, after everything was handled, including the sale of our house, it made sense to return home where her family was. Although she’d made a lot of friends, none of them were as important as her family. My dad’s family was from Georgia, so she didn’t really know them well. They visited them only once a year.

All of that was the reason I wanted to be close to them. I never knew when death would come knocking again. I didn’t want to have any regrets. Spending time with them was a joy anyway. My brother, Samuel, was a police officer, trying to make his way to detective. We had the typical big-sister-little-brother bond, but I loved him to pieces. I knew he felt the same way. We fought all the time, and I typically tried to boss him around, even now.

It was really hell if we ended up on the same crime scene or were both first responders to an accident. I pushed him out of my way and engaged in all the bullshit big sisters put little brothers through. Even at my big age of twenty-six, whenever I was around him, it was like we both reverted to our teenage years. He’d just turned twenty-four a couple of months ago, and I was going to be twenty-seven next week, so we were nearly three years apart in age. Our ages of sixteen and thirteen were the absolute worst. That was when he started feeling himself.

Once we got back to the fire station, I packed a few things then made my way to the chief’s office. He was on the phone. “Yes, sir. I promise to pass the message along.”

The smirk on his lips as he beckoned me inside made a smile appear on my face. It wasn’t often that he laughed or even smiled, so this had to be good. I was only here to let him know I was headed out, but I knew he would be sharing whatever that phone call was about just by the way he was biting his bottom lip, trying to restrain his smile.

“Again, great job today, Farris.”

“Thanks, Chief. I was just stopping by to let you know I was leaving. I’ll see you guys in a few days.”

“Okay. Well, that phone call was about you.”

“Me?” I asked with a frown of confusion.

“Mm hmm. Judge Patrick was trying to track you down. He wanted your contact information. Calvin told him which station you were at.” He chuckled. “So there will be some type of communication from him by the time you get back.”

The frown had left my facial expression. I was flattered. I figured once I left, he would forget about contacting me. “I think he’s just grateful for me rescuing him. Why is that funny?”

He slowly shook his head. “You can’t be that naïve, Farris. From the stories I’ve heard about that man, he is a total jackass. He barely says thank you, let alone reach out after the fact.”

“He told me thank you. His life was being threatened. That’s a totally different beast.”

He lifted his hands in surrender. “Okay. If you say so. Enjoy your time off.”

I playfully rolled my eyes as I turned to leave his office. I knew he was right, but I was afraid this was simply a trauma bond the judge was feeling. He was a very attractive man, but it seemed in my line of work, men never took me seriously. It was like their masculinity was threatened because I was a firefighter. I didn’t understand why they felt threatened by that. It wasn’t like I was a boxer or wrestler.

I fought fires. That required extensive training, and it had nothing to do with gender. That fire could burn a woman the same way it burned a man. It wasn’t totally about strength. It was more about training. While strength came into play sometimes, especially with holding that hose and rescuing people, it wasn’t about that mostly. It was about being smart and extinguishing fires. However, men didn’t tend to see it that way. It was like they thought I was masculine in some way because of my job. Outside of the fire station, I was as feminine as the next woman. I wore dresses, heels, and makeup.

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