Page 88 of The Night Belongs To Fireman

At that, his expression softened a little, making a tendril of hope sneak through her.

“I told you I’d be fine,” he reminded her. “I can take care of myself.”

“Yes, but that’s … you know, just something people say. ‘I’ll be fine.’ It doesn’t mean anything, because how can you really know it’ll be fine? You can’t. It’s completely meaningless. All I knew was that I didn’t want you getting hurt because of me.”

“But that’s what I signed up for,” he pointed out, running a hand over the back of his neck. “To take the bullet. To be the one who stands between you and the bad guy. Like the Secret Service.”

“I’m not exactly the president,” she snapped. “You were an innocent bystander. Why should I be protected my whole life?”

“And why should I? If my brothers were taken hostage, they wouldn’t expect the government to give in to some wacko’s demands. They’d take it like a soldier.”

“What does this have to do with your brothers? Anyway, you aren’t a soldier!”

That didn’t go over well at all. Fred’s expression turned unforgiving as stone. “That’s where you’re wrong, Rachel. When I’m on the fire lines, I’m a kind of soldier, except I’m fighting fire, not other soldiers. When you hired me as your bodyguard, I became your own personal soldier. Sure, I might not be in the military like my brothers, but that doesn’t mean I don’t put myself in the line of fire.”

This was unfamiliar territory to Rachel. Maybe it was something in the male gender that she just didn’t understand. She tried to resurrect every military movie she could think of. “But if your brothers were captured by the enemy, they’d expect to be rescued, right? By the Marines or something. Zero Dark Thirty or … or …”

Fred flung up a hand to stop her. She bit her lip, suddenly remembering his brother’s crack about Zero Dark Salad.

“Sure, the Marines would do everything they could to rescue a captured soldier. But that soldier would be prepared for torture or beatings or psychological manipulation or all kinds of crap. But me? I get nabbed by someone named Kale and ranted to about how mean people are to cute, cuddly animals. You know something? The worst part of the whole experience was having to watch you do that interview and know that I’d failed.”

Rachel flinched backward as if she’d been slapped. Only the couch against the back of her knees kept her upright. “What kind of thing is that to say? I chose to help someone who matters to me. Why does that bother you so much?”

“I just told you. I feel like an ass.”

“You’re not an ass! You’re a hero!”

“Don’t fucking say that!”

She stared at him in utter shock. Never had she expected her kind, sweet-hearted Fred to be swearing at her with that furious look on his face. Especially not after everything that had happened. “Why are you acting like this?”

“You of all people shouldn’t call me a hero.” His intensity vibrated like a whip across the room. “I was hired to protect you. I was doing my job, until you decided I couldn’t handle it.”

“That’s ridiculous,” she cried desperately. “Don’t do this, Fred. Is this about the money? Because the money doesn’t matter.”

He went deadly still. “What money?”

“The … the ransom money,” she stammered. “I … I didn’t even have to ask my dad. He paid it right away. He even paid double because the guy didn’t want that much. Marsden thought more money would make him back off his demand for me to go public.”

“But it didn’t, did it?”

She shook her head numbly.

“That’s why you don’t freakin’ give these guys what they want. Fuck!” He pounded a fist into the strip of wood that separated the picture windows. Greta looked anxiously from one to the other of them, ears perking. “I’m going to pay your father back for that money.”

“What?” She started across the room. “That’s insane. The money was nothing to him. It was just a wire transfer anyway. He can get it back with a few keystrokes.”

As soon as she said it, she knew it was the wrong thing. She stopped in the middle of her living room, watching his fury mount.

“Nothing? Of course it’s nothing to him. Fine, I’ll refuse my paycheck. I messed up on the job, I won’t accept his money.”

“Stop it,” she begged him. “You’re taking all of this the wrong way. Can’t you just see it as people caring about you and not wanting you to get hurt? What’s so horrible about that?”

“You don’t understand.”

“You’re right! I don’t. I think you’re being mean and unfair.”

“Then I guess we just disagree,” he said stiffly, jamming his hands in his pockets again. “No surprise there.”

What was that supposed to mean? But Rachel’s feelings were too bruised to find out. She didn’t think she could take any more. “Maybe you should go. We should talk about this another time, when you’re not …” Being ridiculous. “ … still injured.”

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