Dhillon handed her the puppy. Scout wiggled in her arms a moment. He had no business coming here and spitting out the past for all to hear. She steeled her voice. “The showers are free. I’m going to clean up.”
“Do they know?” He jutted his chin at the men behind her. “Do they know about the fire?”
Riya leaned toward him so she was in his space, forced to take in even more of his scent. She spoke through her teeth. “Leave. Now.”
Dhillon grunted, but she did not miss the heavy gaze he rested on her before he turned. He mumbled to Lucky, and Riya watched the dog lumber beside his master as Dhillon strode off, confident in his anger, punctuating his aggravation with each step.
Riya lingered a moment, watching Dhillon’s infuriated but magnificent form retreat to his car with Lucky. She gathered her wits and turned to face her department, chin high, mouth set, eyes hard. Show no weakness. They were watching her, some grim-faced, some curious, some sympathetic. All expectant.
“Is that how the dog was injured? House fire?” Schultz looked her directly in the eye. This was more than simple curiosity.
Schultz had been at this station for a couple of years. He was one of the few guys who had shown her kindness in her first days on the job. She met his gaze. “Yes.”
“You were in a fire?” Ambrose narrowed his eyes at her. “Is that why you’re here?” The accusation in her lieutenant’s voice was clear.
“No, sir. I’m here because I worked my ass off.” She raised her chin at them, same as she had with Dhillon, and spoke with authority born of a paramedic, of a survivor. “I did exactly what you all did to get here. I passed every test. Content. Physical.” She paused. “Psych.” It had been brutal. The content she learned. The physical training had had her puking more than once, but she got stronger and stronger. She was lean and muscular and strong, and she was damn proud of it.
The psych had been the hardest part. They wanted her to come to terms with the house fire that had scarred Lucky and taken her brother. As if.
“Seems like you got some major issues if your boyfriend didn’t even know you were a firefighter.” Lieutenant Jeff Ambrose was a few years younger than her, and he’d been in fire service since the age of eighteen. He was her immediate boss, and he made no secret of the fact that Riya was going to have to prove she could do the job.
“Everyone in this room has an issue with fire, Lieutenant.” Schultz spoke up.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Riya said evenly.
Never was.
“Whatever.” Lieutenant Ambrose did not back down. “You have an issue with fire, you better deal with it. I’m not thrilled about going into a fire with someone who’s likely to lose it because they haven’t dealt with their issues.”
Riya fumed but did not lower her chin. It would take more than her closed-minded lieutenant for her to doubt herself. She could do the job. Including carrying out all two hundred and twenty pounds of Ambrose, if need be. She’d been making slow progress with some of the guys. Dhillon’s little show had just set her back.
“What happened to you? In that fire?” Ambrose spoke to her as if he had the authority to ask. Lieutenant or not, it was none of his damn business.
Riya continued to stare him down. Her own family didn’t talk about the fire. She wasn’t about to discuss it with him, or any of these guys, for that matter.None of their damn business.
After a moment, Ambrose stepped back. “I’m watching you.”
Riya said nothing, though her stomach churned and her blood boiled as she watched him walk away. Damn Dhillon. What the hell was he thinking coming down here like that? And why? For years, they’d barely spoken to one another, so what did he care what she did for a living? He’d never cared when she was a paramedic.
She marched toward the locker room, taking off her gear as she walked. She’d thought the showers were empty, but she still heard some of the guys in the area and decided she’d just clean up at home. She went to the single bathroom and washed her face and exchanged her sweat-soaked T-shirt for a clean one. She’d forgotten to bring an extra sports bra, so she’d just have to deal with the dampness.
As she attended to her duties, the normal chatter and clamor of the firehouse returned. There was always a good amount of laughter. The guys had bonded through the experiences of saving lives. Riya envied their bond and knew full well she’d have to earn her way in. Once they saw that she was more than capable of doing the job, things would be different.
Schultz brought out a box of supplies as she restocked. He was about her age with buzzed blond hair and friendly blue eyes. Scout had followed him to the truck and now sat between them as they replaced used inventory.
“My wife was not happy when I decided to do this.” His voice was deep and kind, and he had a slight drawl she couldn’t place.
Bill and his wife, Angie, had been married a couple of years, and whenever Schultz talked about her, it was clear that he was still smitten. The guys teased him. Riya thought it was wonderful that even after being married for a time, he still flushed when he said his wife’s name.
“Angie worries, but she gets it. She knows it’s a part of me.” Schultz smiled at her, tipping his head toward the parking lot where they’d had their workout. “He’ll come around.”
“Oh.” Her heart hammered, and she flushed. “I was telling the truth. He and I are not together. We grew up next door to each other.” She looked away. “Raised Lucky together. That’s it.”
Schultz eyed her a moment. “Okay... Whatever you say.” He put a few things away. “But that dogwasburned in a fire, wasn’t he?”
Riya snapped her gaze to him. “Yes. He was.” Lucky had been just a couple of years old at the time. It was part of the reason Dhillon had become a vet.
They had both made decisions based on that fire.
