Millie
The fire station smells the way it always does—like diesel fuel, industrial soap, and something clean and metallic, like ozone after a lightning strike. It’s a scent I’ve known since I was a teenager, a scent that usually spells safety and home. Today, it just makes my stomach clench with nerves.
I clutch the Thermos of hot cocoa in one hand and the tin of Maren’s cookies in the other, my knuckles white.
Captain Ashford is behind the main desk, filling out a report. He looks up as I approach, his weathered face breaking into a crinkly-eyed smile.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in. If it isn’t my favorite volunteer librarian.”
“Hey, Captain Ashford,” I say, my voice a little too bright. “I was just in the neighborhood and… uh…” I trail off, lifting the tin of cookies like a peace offering. “I was hoping I could see Maddox. For a minute.”
He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his broad chest, a playful glint in his eye. “Is that so? And what did you bring to bribe your way past the front desk?”
I can’t help but smile. “Just cookies from Maren. Chocolate chip.”
“Maren, huh?” He rubs his chin thoughtfully. “Well, in that case… if I can get a few now, I might be able to forget to see you head up those stairs.” He winks, holding out his hand.
I laugh, a real, genuine laugh that loosens some of the tension in my shoulders. I open the tin and push it toward him. “Deal.”
He takes three, stuffing one into his mouth whole. “He’s upstairs. In the common room. Try not to break anything.”
“Thanks, Captain,” I say, my heart starting to beat a little faster as I head for the stairs.
The upstairs common room is a large, open space with a mismatched collection of couches, a TV, and a few tables. And there he is.
Maddox is sitting at a card table, his back to me, his shoulders tense. He’s not alone. He’s playing cards with another woman. She’s beautiful, with dark eyes that seem to take in everything at once and hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail.
I hesitate in the doorway, feeling like an intruder. Maddox lays down a card, his movements stiff. The woman across from him laughs.
“Millie,” Maddox says, without turning around. He must have felt my presence, heard my footsteps.
The woman turns, her eyes curious. She offers me a polite smile. “Hi. I’m Angela.”
“Millie,” I manage, my throat suddenly dry.
Angela gathers her cards. “Well, this has been fun, but I should get going.” She stands, giving Maddox a look that’s loaded with unspoken meaning. “I’ll see you later, Maddox.”
He just grunts in response, not even looking at her. She gives me another quick smile before she leaves, the sound of her boots on the stairs echoing in the sudden silence.
Now it’s just the two of us. I walk closer to the table, setting the Thermos and the cookie tin down on a clear space. “Broughtyou some hot cocoa and cookies,” I say, my voice soft. “And to… to check up on you. See how you’re doing.”
He doesn’t look at me. He just starts shuffling the deck of cards, his movements sharp and angry. “You didn’t have to come here. I’m fine.”
The coldness in his tone is like a slap in the face.
Did I do something?
My mind reels. I open my mouth to ask, but then I see it. His jaw is a hard line, and I see a slight tremor in his hand as he deals the cards. He’s in pain. The realization hits me like a physical blow.
“Are you in pain?” I take a step toward him. “Maddox, your ribs?—”
“Damn, Millie, don’t be so loud,” he grits out, pushing to his feet. His eyes are blazing, a mix of agony and fury.
I freeze, my hand hovering in the air between us. I’m so confused. One minute he’s my friend, the next he’s a snarling stranger. “I… I’m sorry,” I stammer. “I was just worried about you. But if now is a bad time…”
He stops me, his voice cutting through mine like a shard of glass. The question he asks is so completely out of left field, so disconnected from the conversation we were having, that for a second, my brain just can’t process it.
“Are you fucking the sheriff?”
