Nothing Left to Burn (33 page)

“Hey, Logan.”

I turned to see Gage Garner and Max Tobay approaching. Max wore shades with his ear stud and turned every female head on his way over to me. I smirked because he knew it. Gage held out his hand. “Congrats, man.”

“Oh, uh, thanks.”

“Hey, guys! Hey!”

I spun around and found Kevin and Ty running over, followed by Bear doing his typical shuffle.

“Dude, I heard the chief talking to your dad. Eight kids signed up for J squad since the fire. Can you believe that? We haven’t had that many at one time since our first year,” Ty gushed.

Gage grinned like it was his squad.

“Check it out. The county executive is here.” Max jerked his chin at the tall man who’d just left the backseat of a chauffeured car.

Great. Everyone was here, except Amanda.

“Where the hell is Amanda, Alex?”

He shrugged. “She’ll be here.” His expression turned solemn—no small feat given the stripe of sunscreen down his nose. “It occurs to me I never congratulated you on your achievements—both personal and professional.” He thrust out his hand.

I grasped it and, in a moment of profound emotion, pulled him in for a tight hug. All that sunscreen made him smell like a piña colada. When I went to pull away, he thumped my back a few times and whispered in my ear, “If you ever feel that desperate again, I’d better be the first to hear of it—not the last.”

I laughed. “They overreacted—”

Alex’s grip tightened. “This is
me
, Reece. You’re lying, and they’re not overreacting.”

He let me go, and I just stared at him. “How the hell—”

Impatient, he waved me off. “I know every one of your tells, Reece. I’ve known you since you were nine. I know you lied to them, probably because you’re lying to yourself.” His eyes focused on something over my shoulder. “Your girl just got here. We’re going to talk about this later.”

I nodded. I’d lied to my parents, to the shrink, to the chief. Nobody knew what used to be under my bed. But I couldn’t lie to my best friend. I’d tell him all of it. Later.

The air changed, and I knew Amanda was here. I found her standing anxiously at the edge of the field, flanked by Mrs. Beckett and Larry Ecker, and wearing her station uniform. Her hair was free from its usual tight twist and gleamed in the sun like molten gold. She turned, saw us on the dais, and started walking. I had to remind myself to breathe while she strode up the steps, took her seat right next to me, turned, and smiled, damn near inducing cardiac arrest.

She’d had a tough time since that night—she and Larry both. They’d both healed from some burns and smoke inhalation. After Mr. Beckett’s death and, of course, public disgrace, the county wanted to move them both into new youth facilities immediately. But Mrs. Beckett had protested.

Loudly.

She’d already lost her husband and saw no reason why she had to lose “her” kids too. There had been hearings and social worker appointments and surprise visits but still no final ruling on the situation. Amanda and Larry had been living out of their backpacks for the last month, dreading every knock on the door.

The public address system crackled, and a voice asked us all to find our seats.

“Showtime,” Bear said with a grin, holding out a fist. I bumped it, and we headed up a short flight of metal stairs to the dais and took our seats. The sun was vicious, but after what we endured in that kitchen last month, it was a cinch. Dad winked at me right before he kissed Mom, left her with Alex, then strode up the dais steps to sit across the aisle from me.

“You look hot,” Amanda murmured as she sat beside me.

My jaw fell open. “Oh, um, thanks,” I stammered as I felt my face burn.

“No, not
hot
hot.” She frowned at my embarrassment. “I mean you look really uncomfortably warm.”

My shoulders fell. “Oh.”

“No, no!” She waved both hands. “I didn’t mean that you’re not
hot
hot. You totally are, and you’re weather hot, and I think I’m just gonna shut up now.”

On her other side, Max snickered. “Smooth, Man.”

“Shut up, Max,” she snapped.

I snorted out a laugh, and before I could say anything, the music started and we were all on our feet for the color guard marching in, bearing the American and the LVFD flags, proudly announcing our motto—PROUD AND READY. We saluted the flag, recited the Pledge of Allegiance, politely clapped for the various visiting dignitaries, and did our best to not show how anxious, embarrassed, and—okay—bored we all were.

Finally, Chief Duffy took the podium and cleared his throat, his gruff voice making the microphone whine and squeal. “Sorry about that,” he muttered to the laughing audience and cleared his throat once more. “The news is full of stories about teenagers in trouble. Drunk driving, robbery, parties gone wild, vandalism. You seldom hear about the teens who do good solid work in your community, and that, ladies and gentlemen, is why we’re here today. The Lakeshore Volunteer Fire Department began our junior squad program seventeen years ago. In the years since then, we’ve grown some mighty fine cadets, many of whom continued in the fire service in both volunteer and career capacities. I got my start in a similar program when I was a boy, and I’m proud to tell you it made me the man I am today.

“Behind me on this stage is a group of teens you can—and should—be proud of. Our junior squad cadets practice with trained firefighters and study fire service principles in carefully controlled drills. Most importantly, our cadets forge the bonds of brother- and sisterhood that will make them the kind of firefighters who will walk
into
danger instead of away from it, who embody the words printed on our uniforms—PROUD AND READY.”

Chief Duffy had to pause here for thunderous applause.

“I’d like to ask several people to join me at the podium. Captain Steven Conner, Lieutenant John Logan, Cadet Captain Amanda Jamison, and Cadet Reece Logan.” The crowd applauded again while Dad, Steve, Amanda, and I flanked the chief.

“Captain Conner, our fire marshal, has been with us for fifteen years. Lieutenant Logan, a decorated volunteer, is the instructor responsible for training this talented group of teens. Amanda Jamison, a two-year cadet, is their acting captain, an honorary rank that’s awarded by an election of peers. And Reece Logan is our newest cadet, having joined junior squad in April.

“Last month, after a suspected arsonist took two teens hostage, Captain Conner and Cadet Logan went in after them. Applying the two-in/two-out tactics cadets learned in training, they donned personal protective equipment, armed themselves with tools, and proceeded to the station house’s kitchen, where they found the teens restrained in a room already partially engulfed. Although he’d never practiced in a real fire, Cadet Logan applied what he’d been taught and saved two lives that day.”

More applause. I twitched and squirmed. Amanda tucked her hand into mine, and I didn’t hear another word said after that. I watched her, and those eyes that weren’t quite blue, weren’t quite green, shone back at me, and then everyone was on their feet, cheering. I shook hands with Chief Duffy and Steve Conner, and then Dad put a leather case into my hands with a wink and a public hug.

He’d gotten really good at those.

Finally—finally!—the photographs were taken and the congratulations accepted. It took forever due to the traffic, but we were all back at LVFD for the after party. Someone hung streamers off the apparatus. A few tents covered folding tables piled with food in the parking lot near the rear door. The kitchen was still blocked off, but the guys who volunteered to repair the damaged kitchen and roof had made a lot of progress already.

My parents were sitting under one of the tents, chowing down on a portion of a six-foot sandwich. I caught up to my crew around a cooler of bottled water, because Max tried for the beer and now that cooler was under Chief Duffy’s butt.

“Hey, Logan! Check it out.” Bear pulled a piece of paper folded up into quarters from his pocket.

I unfolded it and grinned. It was his report card. “Holy crap, you got an A!”

Smiling wide, Bear grabbed me in a hug worthy of his nickname. “I never got an A in biology before. It was thanks to you, bro.”

Bro.
The word wrapped around my heart and squeezed. I hugged him back and then went in search of Amanda. I found her, leaned over, and murmured into her ear, “Walk with me?”

She grinned and took my hand. We strolled out of the parking lot behind the station house and walked down the road that circled the lake.

“So, that was—”

“Awkward,” she finished. “Glad it’s over. And you are
hot
hot. Just so you know.”

My tongue suddenly felt too big to operate. “So are you.” We walked to the water, holding hands. “Still, it was kind of cool. You must have a whole collection of those medals.”

She shook her head, her hair spilling over her shoulders. “Nope. Not a one.”

I stopped walking and turned to face her. “How is that possible? Everything I did was the stuff you taught me.”

“Bullshit. You taught yourself,” she said with a snort.

I laid my hands on her shoulders. “I’m not sure I’d have stayed past that first day if not for you.”

“But you did.”

“Yeah, I did.” I ran my hands along her shoulders and up into her hair, then pulled her in for a slow kiss, enjoying the way that strong lean body went weak when I did. “Come on. Let’s sit by the water.”

I led the way down over rocks and sand and pebbles and plopped down. Amanda grabbed a handful of rocks, skipped them over the surface, and sat next to me.

“God, I love to watch you move. The way you walk—Jesus, Amanda, you could start a fire.”

She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right.”

I tugged at my shirt collar and rubbed my palms on my legs, and the weight of what I had in my pocket shifted. I took a deep breath, opened my mouth—and choked. Amanda gave me a sideways look.

“What is up with you, Logan? It’s like you’re still up at that stupid podium. Relax. It’s just me.”

Laughter exploded out of me. “Oh God, Amanda, you have no idea.”

“No idea about what?”

Crap, this was not going well. I hung my head and sighed. I wanted this to be perfect, and I ended up making it more awkward.

“Hey, hey, come on. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing.” When she frowned, I quickly added, “It’s right. Everything’s actually right.”

“Oh. You mean you and your dad.”

“No. I mean, yes—that’s part of the stuff that’s right. But not all of it.” I paused and tried to find the perfect words. “My dad and I are okay, I guess. Or we will be. But I was thinking of you.”

Her eyes went soft. “Me?”

“Yeah. It’s good, right? That you get to stay with Mrs. Beckett? That you get to stay with us?”
With
me.

“Completely. Mrs. Beckett’s great. She’s teaching me stuff like cooking. She really likes to cook. And she talks to me, you know? Like she’s interested in me not because I’m a case, but because I’m me.”

“That’s great,” I said quietly. And it was great, but it wasn’t what I’d hoped to hear.

“And Larry’s allowed to stay too, which is even better, because it’s like he’s really my brother now. That night, in the ambulance, when he was scared I might die, he told me he loved me.” With a laugh, she added, “Of course, he denies that now.” Still laughing, she shook her head. “Nobody’s loved me since I was nine years old, and now, I have a brother.”

“That’s not true.” I smiled down at her. “I love you.” A second went by. And then another. And then it was clear she wasn’t planning to say the words back to me. “You know how I knew? That I love you, I mean?”

She angled her head, waiting.

“I don’t have a lot of experience with love. Not much to compare it to. There was this one thing I wanted, wanted more than anything else in the world. And when I got it and it wasn’t you, that’s when I knew, you know?”

She sobered up, scrambled off the sand, came up behind me, and wrapped her arms around me. “Yeah. Yeah, I do know.”

I shut my eyes and cursed myself for forgetting—even for a second—that I wasn’t the only person in this world with a few problems. I reached up and dragged her down into my lap. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“I know what you meant.” She curled an arm around my neck, tugged me lower, and kissed me. “Just for the record, you’re a hell of a firefighter. Nobody will worry with you at their back.”

I sat there, her sugar and lemon scent tickling my nose, making my mouth water, and shrugged. “I belong here now. Thanks to you. And to Matt. And Alex. It was his idea, you know.”

“I belong here too.” She smiled, and my stomach flipped. God, she was beautiful. “Now, come on. Let’s go get rid of a few weights.”

What
the
—? I followed her to the edge of the lake. From her pocket, she took out a key.

“What’s that?”

“This is the key to Mr. Beckett’s home chemistry lab. Everything’s gone now. It’s just a plain old ordinary garage again.” I watched her wind up and pitch the key long and far until it splashed with a heavy
plunk
. Then she turned to me, her smile fading. “Your turn.”

My eyes bulged. My muscles coiled. “What?”

“Reece, I know what’s in your pocket. And I know you don’t need it anymore.”

I stared at her with my heart thudding in my goddamn throat. “How? How could you possibly know?”

She wrapped her arms around me, pressed her cheek to mine, and rested her hand on my chest, right over my tattoo. “I know
you
. I know when you’re nervous, when you’re pissed off, when you’re scared. I know you’ve got it in your pocket right now. I know you don’t want it there anymore, because you don’t hover over it the way you used to—like an animal protecting her cub.”

I still didn’t know how, but Matt had known too.

“Don’t you give up, Reece! Promise me.”

“No, Matt, hold on! Help is coming. I hear sirens. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please!”

“I can’t. It hurts. Reece, listen to me. I know! I know what’s under your bed. I found it. Don’t you do it. Promise me you won’t do it!”