I glare at Sully again. "I'd like to see you try."
Sully laughs. "Dude, right now, all it would take is a finger to push you down. Don't forget that."
"Boys," Gabe says again, shaking his head at our bickering.
I can't help it, though. I don't like Sully's flirting with Lindsey. I also know I don't have a say either way. But Sully's been secretly crushing on Violet Calloway for as long as I can remember, so why is he suddenly making a nuisance of himself with Lindsey? And so what if he is? Why do I care?
"How about I go get some drinks? Maybe some iced tea? Water or lemonade?" Lindsey asks.
The guys give their requests for water, and I hear Dani running into the kitchen after Lindsey. The moment they're out of sight and hearing range, I round on Sully. "Do you have to flirt with every woman you meet?"
"I'm just being friendly."
"Friendly," I say with a snort. I stare at Gabe and jerk my head toward Sully, earning a searing flash of pain as a result.
Sully outright laughs. "Man, you're so easy."
I blink and then blink again. The pain definitely makes me feel muddled and prickly and out of sorts, but I'm not following.
"Dude, take advantage of this prime situation that's fallen into your lap," Sully says in a low voice. "Don't get all up in your grumps about it."
Up in my grumps?
"How are you really doing?" Gabe asks in a tone that won't carry through walls. "Pain manageable?"
"Yeah," I lie.
"Just remember how dangerous those magic pills can be."
I nod, because I appreciate the reminder from my best friend. Not that I need one. Dani's mom jumped down that rabbit hole after a car accident left her with whiplash, and while she was off the pills now, they'd still destroyed our life. She went from being an okay wife and mother to a nonexistent one more interested in herself and chasing a new high by cheating with the doc prescribing her the pills. "Doc says I shouldn't be on them much longer."
"Any word on how soon you'll be back in the game?" Sully asks.
I knew the question would come up. I just wasn't expecting it the day I'm released from the hospital. "Depends on how rehab goes."
"But you think you'll be back?" Sully presses.
Gabe just stares at me and waits for a response like Sully. Gabe and I were friends long before he became chief, but I can totally feel the chief sizing me up on whether he'll have to replace me.
The thing is? I don't know. I mean, off the cuff, my response is simple. Sure. I'll be back. But ever since getting caught in that fire, I've had nightmares and flashbacks. Even dreamed scenes where I don't make it out at all, and I feel myself burning alive. Feel my skin melting. Smell it burning.
And like it or not, that's not a scent that's going to go away anytime soon. Despite numerous sponge baths in the hospital, I still smell it. Sometimes I think I even taste it.
I shift in the recliner to try to get comfortable and flinch from the pain and the images in my head. The nightmares and hurt shooting through me from the burns and broken leg. That fire—as many fires as I've battled in my career—was the first to really remind me of my mortality. And it's come with a cost I can't ignore, no matter how hard I try.
It's easy enough to gamble and enjoy the adrenaline ride when I'm not responsible for a family, but—I am responsible. Fully responsible since I'm not married. And not only for one kid but now two, both abandoned by mothers doing their own thing. They could've lost me. They could've?—
I run my good hand over my face and try to rub away the wooziness mixed with frustration. Dani's mother doesn't want to keep her even on a temporary basis because it might ruin her vacation plans. I realize she's living her best single life, but that says everything, doesn't it? She'd never want a kid impinging on those plans full-time should something happen to me. Even if she took Dani in as her biological mother, an unwanted child is an unwanted child, and that's not something I want for my baby girl.
It's a reminder of how I wound up with Dani to begin with. Custody was never an issue because Dani's mom cited her need for "time" and freedom to rebuild her life post-divorce and midrecovery. So she'd walked away, like the end of our marriage meant the end of her being anything but a fair-weather mother who visits occasionally when the mood suits. Not exactly how the whole parenting thing works.
It's not how any of this works, and for the first time, I'm really questioning my choice of career. I'm down for the count with the leg and burns, but what if it had been more? What if it had been deadly? Where would Dani and Mads be right now?
That question doesn't leave me. But for the first time, "later" stops feeling like a reasonable time to think about a safer future. Still, what's the alternative? Become a used-car salesman? Nothing wrong with the job, but it's not something I want to do day in and day out for the rest of my life.
I open my mouth to respond when Dani's giggle fills the room.
"We have cookies!" Dani says, entering the living room and balancing a plate full of store-bought cookies.
