“Well then,” Lydia says. She’s whisper-shouting into my ear, making it obvious she’s not trying to keep it between us. Over the top of her head, I see that Melanie’s attention is back on me. She looks down at Lydia and then turns away again quickly. God, I hope she can’t hear Lydia. “I guess Royal’s new friend left her silver spoon at home. Maybe she thinks it’s a novelty to slum it with the working class.”
I lock my jaw to stop myself from saying something I won’t regret but will cause a huge fight. Lydia’s always had this love-hate affair with rich people. On one hand, she wants what they have, but on the other, she hates on them freely for having what she doesn’t.
Melanie’s dad gestures for Jack to walk onto the stage. My brother, decked out in his dress blue uniform and white cap, looks so much like our father used to. He smiles politely but stands awkwardly as Mr. Kincaid continues his speech.
“It’s my honor to introduce to you tonight’s In the Line of Bravery award recipient. This gentleman risked his life in an act of bravery that most could not imagine. And yet he and the some ten thousand uniformed men and women who serve and protect our great city run into the face of danger every single day without thought to their own safety. Tonight we honor Lieutenant Jack Hayes of Ladder Company Number One, serving the Lower East Side. Lieutenant Hayes is not only a sixth-generation member of the New York City Fire Department, but he’s also the seventeenth member of the Hayes family to wear the uniform. Lieutenant Hayes is receiving tonight’s award for showing exemplary skill in rescuing four women from a burning building and holding a door frame in place long enough for his fellow firefighters to exit safely at great risk to his own life. It is a small but important duty I have to present Lieutenant Hayes with this award for such heroism.”
Lydia leans in and hisses, “That should be you.”
She’s always saying shit like that, wanting to know why I’m not being promoted or up for an award. It used to make me feel like she believed I was capable of moving mountains and the rest of the world wasn’t giving me enough credit. Now it just feels manipulative and fucking disrespectful to Jack. Fuck her and her goddamn opinions. Jack spent weeks laid up with injuries he suffered while saving the lives of those four women. And me. He held that doorframe up for me.
Applause erupts in the room, followed by hooting and hollering from our fellow firefighters. Everyone is excited to see Jack onstage, especially because of how awkward he is about the whole thing. I find myself smiling, proud of my brother and happy he’s getting the recognition. I chance a look at Melanie, for no reason other than because I can, and feel like I’ve suddenly been hit by a truck. Hennessey’s watching me with a tentative gaze. He narrows his eyes and gives me a chin nod as he slips an arm around Melanie’s shoulders and makes a perverted gesture with his tongue. It’s more than enough to remind me that I have no claim on her. And he’s overdue to have his ass kicked.
“I was just doing my job,” Jack says. I slip out of Lydia’s arms and keep her at bay long enough to hear the rest of the acceptance speech he manages to give.
“Where are you going?”
“Someplace you’re not,” I snap. When Jack’s done and has thanked Mr. Kincaid, I excuse myself immediately and weave through the throngs of people to get to the staircase. Upstairs, I walk into the men’s room, where I just stand in silence for a few minutes, trying to control my breathing while I stare at the tiled floor beneath my feet.
Chapter 4
Jameson
Two months later
“How many times we gotta go over this?” I shout and grab the fistful of candy wrappers from the floor between the seats in the truck and throw them out onto the ground behind me. “Keep shit clean or you’re going to get written the fuck up!”
I’ll admit that I’m in a bad mood—have been for days—but this shit is ridiculous. Chief’s been over this with the guys more times than I can count. Assholes toss everything from candy wrappers to soda bottles around the truck and never fucking clean it when their shift is over. It’s not only rude but it’s goddamn dangerous. The last time I took her out to get gas, a fucking empty plastic bottle ended up beneath the brake. I was able to crush the bottle beneath the brake and drove without issue, but that’s not the point. We’re supposed to be first responders, and part of that means being safe.
“Wow,” Jack says from behind me. There’s a note of humor in his deep voice. “What crawled up your ass?”
His casual attitude rubs me the wrong way and sends my temper into overdrive. He sure as fuck wouldn’t have that attitude if his kid were riding around in a vehicle with hazards all over the floor. Prick. Grabbing a stray fast food bag from under the driver’s seat, I push myself out of the truck so quickly that I almost lose my footing as I land on the pavement.