Page 37 of My Off-limits Firefighter Next Door
“That’s gotta be the cutest thing I’ve seen in way too long.” Jackson said.
Marcus chuckled softly, his eyes warm. “She’s something else, isn’t she?”
Jackson nodded,Their words wrapped around me like a balm, soothing some of the unease I hadn’t even realized I was carrying.
Their spirited conversation about a college ball game soon filled the kitchen. I took a seat at the table, watching them prepare dinner for Alana and me.
Jackson was making chili while Marcus supervised—or so he claimed. Alana, content with her nuggets and fries. I was just glad Jackson had made enough for everyone.
“Didn’t you mention a farm trip this weekend, Jackson?” I asked, watching him stir a pot of chili.
Jackson nodded, turning back to me from the stove. “Yeah.” His eyes darted to Marcus. “My parents own a big farm with a guest cottage. I think they’d be happy to let you use the cottage for the weekend, to get away and have some peace knowing Roger won’t find you. What do you think?”
I immediately liked the idea but hesitated. “Are you sure they’d be okay with that? Have you talked to them?”
“They’ll love it,” Marcus interjected. “Lois and Sam are good people. They’ve been like family to me.”
Jackson grinned, his boyish charm on full display. “And they’ll spoil Alana rotten. My mom’s been waiting for an excuse to break out her old cookie recipes. Dad will gladly take her to meet all the animals and horses.”
The image was almost too good to be true—a serene farm, Alana running freely, the constant weight of fear lifted, if only for a weekend. “I’d love that,” I admitted, the words spilling out before doubt could take root. “But are you sure—”
Jackson chuckled, holding up his phone. “Let’s find out.” The screen said “Mom and Pap.” I smiled. It suited him. He looked like a mischievous kid as he kicked one foot out while waiting for the call to connect.
His grin grew as he listened. “Mom, can I talk? Thanks.” He laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Do you remember Marcus' sister, Savannah and her daughter, my neighbors? They are in a bit of danger from her ex. They need refuge for the weekend. An escape, you know, sanctuary...”
My heart sank. Would they still agree, knowing the situation?
I saw Jackson shake his head as his mother apparently rambled about something. “Ma! You’re incorrigible. No, don’t tell Dad to unlock the safe... He doesn’t need target practice this weekend!” He looked at me, shaking his head with an amused expression. I couldn’t help bursting into laughter.
Lois, his mother, sounds friendly and was palpable even through the phone, and their banter painted a vivid picture of the kind of family he came from—loving, protective, and just a little quirky.
By the time he hung up, the plan was set. We’d leave in the morning, taking back roads to ensure no one followed.
“You’re really something, Jackson,” I said, a mix of gratitude and admiration coloring my tone.
He winked. “You haven’t seen anything yet, Savvy.”
For the first time in weeks, I felt a flicker of hope—a glimmer of what life could be like without the constant shadow of Roger looming over us.
And maybe, just maybe, Jackson wasn’t just my neighbor. He was something more—a safety net, a lifeline, and, dare I admit it, someone I wanted to lean on.More than I should.
***
After Marcus and Jackson left, as the house grew quiet, I found myself alone with my thoughts. Alana was fast asleep, her little arms curled around her favorite stuffed rabbit, and the soft hum of the air conditioner filled the background. In the stillness, the weight of everything pressed down on me.
I reached for my journal, flipping through pages of hurried scribbles, raw emotions, and unfinished thoughts. In the corner of one page, I saw the faint outline of something I’d written weeks ago, late one night when I couldn’t sleep. The words spoke to me now, louder than they ever had before:
"The Soulful Words of A Once Broken Girl
After my pain was gone;
Your desire to see me cry began; Pain did shred our strong love;
You looked deep in my eyes, you said there was no resolve;
Through my lonely days of hurt;
There was a desire on your face to watch me rot;
