Page 18 of Jump

“Ruiz.” Axel bounds down onto the platform and slaps his hands to my arms. To push me back. To break the distance between me and my firefighter. “It’s time to go.”

“You’re washing the showers the second we’re back in house,” I point a finger toward Ivy’s reddening face.

I should stop. I know I need to cool the fuck down. But temper bubbles in my blood, and fury makes it hard for me to get myself under control.

“Every shift for a month, you’re cleaning the showers,” I snap.

“Lieutenant…” Her voice crackles with emotion. “I already did them today.”

“Then you’ll do them again. With a toothbrush.”

* * *

I slam my locker door shut so the sound of metal crashing against metal echoes from one wall to the other.

“You need to calm the hell down.” Axel runs a towel through his wet hair and shakes his head. Calm. Collected. He’s cool, when I can barely breathe. “We all do the job however we see fit, Ruiz. And the job was done without casualties or injuries.”

“That’s not go—”

“Lieutenant Ruiz.” Chief Rosa stops in the door to the locker room, his uniform pressed and spotless. His hair, combed and office-ready. His eyes burn bright green and beckon me. “I want to see you in my office. You have two minutes.”

No. Fuck you. Fuck this. And fuck Axel Feeney, too.

But of course, those are not the things I say out loud.

“Yes, Chief.”

I slip a fresh shirt on and fix my collar, then reaching up and scratching my scalp so the bristle of my short hair becomes audible, I exhale and turn away from my friend. My unwilling housemate.

He’s my enemy, my brother, my number one annoyance, and my best friend, all rolled up in one person. And though he has no obligations to me, he’s yet to kick me out of his place. Though he so easily could.

I drop my hands into my pockets and follow my chief along the hall and all the way to his office, then I cross the threshold and amble to the visitor chair when he gestures that way.

He closes the door with a soft snick, the glass rattling in the frame.

Everyone can see in, if they choose to look. But no one gets to hear a word spoken when the door is shut.

“Take a seat, Lieutenant.” He circles his desk and comes to a stop in front of his chair.

When I lower, he does the same, until we’re sitting and facing each other. Then he grabs a pen from his desk and fidgets with it while I sit back.

We’re here to talk about being nice.

“Ivy Patrick seems to feel you’re unfairly targeting her while on shift, Matteo.” He spins his pen slowly. Thoughtfully. “It’s taken her several months, dozens of fires, and confronting the fear of being knocked down to office bitch in order to come to me.” Lowering his pen so our eyes meet over top, he lifts a single brow in question. “What do you have to say on the matter?”

“She doesn’t follow orders.” I gnash my teeth in frustration. “It’s not personal, Chief. It doesn’t matter to me who it is. If you’re on my crew and not following orders, then you’re gonna get called out on it.”

“Called out on every single fire?” he questions. “Every single time?”

“If you’re not following orders every single time, then sure. She’s gotta learn.”

“Showers. Toilets,” he presses. “A toothbrush?”

“She’s not listening, Chief! She puts us all at risk. She especially puts herself at risk if she can’t follow simple instructions.”

“Right.” He sits back in his chair and crosses one ankle over the other knee. Relaxed, when I feel like I’m under fire. “So when Axel doesn’t follow your command to the letter, is he getting chewed out for it?”

No. “Of course. I treat my crew equally.”

---