Page 6 of Raging Inferno

“Don’t you dare point a finger at me,” the mother barks back, pointing a perfectly manicured finger at him. “How was I supposed to know she took a water bottle filled with vodka to school?”

Grabbing my coffee, I roll my eyes as the dean of the school clears his throat.

“Mr. and Mrs. Casale,” he starts.

“It’s Mrs. Liconti,” the mother corrects. “He’s the Casale.”

My eyes dart to the fireman and it’s his turn to roll his eyes. Then his radio goes off and the ex-wife glares at him.

“For crying out loud, shut that thing off.”

Turning my attention to her, I watch as she huffs in disgust and it takes every bit of self-control I have not to throw my coffee in her face. I’m not an angry person—well, not really but, she strikes a nerve with me. Maybe it’s the way she looks at her ex-husbands uniform with disdain. I like to think I always had respect for first responders but after meeting Christopher that respect became unmeasurable. For if that man didn’t save him, I never would’ve met the perfect man and for as short as it may have been, I wouldn’t have experienced that perfect love. All because a selfless man decided to be a hero, I am the proud mother of a beautiful boy and for that, I will always be grateful to any serviceman.

“I can’t,” he sneers, turning down the volume.

“Famous words,” she mutters.

“Mrs. Liconti, Mr. Casale, please focus on the problem at hand. As we discussed on the phone, the school is suspending your daughter for one week due to today’s incident but, I also asked Ms. Moscato here so we could address Gabriella’s grades.”

“What’s wrong with her grades?” Mr. Casale asks, slicing his eyes toward me.

Placing my coffee cup on the desk, I straighten my posture and get my head back in the game. Extending my hand, I address the parents.

“Mr. Casale,” I start.

Sliding his hand in mine, he leans forward and shakes it gently. The expression on his face changes and his eyes narrow curiously as he studies me. An electric current passes from his fingertips to mine and I pull my hand back, diverting my attention to Mrs. Liconti. I offer her my hand as well but she crosses her arms against her chest.

“What’s this about Gabriella’s grades?” she snaps.

Lifting an eyebrow, I drop my hand and open the folder in front of me.

“Well, I’ll just cut to the chase then,” I mutter, raising my chin. “Your daughter is failing all her classes.”

“How is that even possible?” Mr. Casale asks.

“Well for starters, her attendance is poor.”

“That’s a lie,” Mrs. Liconti fires back. “I drive her to the bus stop every morning on my way to work.”

Ignoring her outburst, I remove their daughter’s attendance record from the stack of papers and hand it to Mr. Casale.

“There have been six school days this year, and she’s shown up for one,” I point out. “In order for Gabriella to graduate at the end of the year with her class, she has to make up twenty-seven credits which is nearly impossible if she takes on a full schedule and night school.”

“You didn’t know this was going on?” Mr. Casale asks Mrs. Liconti.

“You saw the same report card as I did.”

“Jesus Christ, Lisa, for once in your fucking life can you take responsibility. She lives with you for crying out loud,” he shouts. “If she was under my roof, I would know whether she was flunking high school and you better believe I’d put a fucking lock on my liquor cabinet.”

“Oh, you think you can do a better job, Jimmy? Go ahead! I’d love to see you try.”

My eyes widen as I watch them stand to their full height and fire insults at one another. It’s not a surprise the daughter is cutting class and drinking. Negative attention is still attention, and it’s obvious Gabriella wants more from her parents than to witness a pissing match between them.

“I will,” Jimmy shouts, turning his eyes back to me. “Where is my daughter?”

I don’t have a chance to answer and neither does the dean because Jimmy turns back to Lisa.

“She’s coming home with me,” he tells her. “And she’s staying with me until this is all sorted out. Fight me on it Lisa and I swear on everything holy, you won’t like the outcome.”

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