“Mother’s still inside,” the chief shouted. “Second floor. Kids made it out.”
Second floors in a fire like this were the worst and dangerous. The heat climbs faster. Floors give sooner. Smoke rolls like it’s got a personal vendetta. It’s a disaster and a job for experienced firefighters, but even we knew the risks.
“Grant, you ready?” Santos asked.
I nodded.
A woman was upstairs. A mother. And I wasn’t putting another child through what I’d gone through. I wasn’t losing anyone today, not on my shift.
“Fire department!” I shouted. “Call out!”
The heat hit me the second I stepped inside. It was disrespectful and unforgiving. Flames crawled up the walls, the floor crackled like it was ready to give, and smoke curled thick around my mask.
“Here, over here.” A weak cough answered. I followed it down the hallway, air getting hotter with every step, legs getting heavier. My vision blurred once. Just a blink. I ignored it and kept pushing until I found the mother slumped against the wall, barely conscious.
“I got you,” I said, pulling her arm over my shoulder.
“Grant, status?” my radio crackled.
“Victim located. Coming down now.”
We made it to the stairs. That’s when my body told the truth. A wobble. A warmth behind my eyes. That weird floating feeling like the room was rocking. I shook my head and adjusted her weight. That had to be it. We made it halfway before Santos appeared, grabbing her from me.
“You good?” he asked.
I nodded, waving him off, but my knees softened again.
“Grant—”
I tried to breathe through it, but everything hit me at once, warmth, smoke, exhaustion, nearly a month of running, two days of OT, the derby, the lack of sleep, the adrenaline crash. But I didn’t know how to surrender or accept defeat. This was a foreign feeling for me.
I took two steps toward the door, fighting back. I had to fight back. The last thing I needed was for my peers to see me as weak or a hindrance. I had to push.
Pull it together, Halo.
Then the whole world tilted.
My mask was squeezing the hell out of my face, and the sides of my vision went fuzzy. Somebody yelled my name, but it sounded far away, like I was hearing it through water.
I reached for the railing and missed.
My last thought before everything dropped out was stupid and simple…
DaVinci is gonna lose his mind.
Then everything went black.
By the time I met up with the guys, my head felt clearer and my body lighter in a way I hadn’t felt in months. Life with Halo had done something to me that I wasn’t ready to admit out loud, but couldn’t deny either. It calmed me. Softened me. Put me in this strange new headspace that had a nigga walking around with a little more patience, a little more gratitude, and a whole lot more to lose.
We linked up like we always did—our once-a-month run. Just the core crew. Me, Malik, Chance, Giveon, and Rico. No distractions, no bullshit. Just the five of us and a basketball, pretending we weren’t all too old to be hooping like this and talking shit.
Except these niggas couldn’t hoop to save their lives.
Today it was just niggas linking and me showing off my new basketball court. The house I’d been renting had now become my home. My baby and I fell in love with it, so I closed the deal and made it ours. Hopefully, it would be our forever home.
“Y’all do this every month,” I said, stepping back and hitting a clean three right over Rico’s hand. “Include me just to get embarrassed. This what y’all like? Y’all got a humiliation kink I’ono know about?”
“Man, fuck you,” Rico huffed, leaning over with his hands on his knees. “Everybody ain’t a damn All-Star.”
