All Fired Up (Green Valley Heroes #7)

Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

MADELINE

M y legs are somehow both ramrod stiff and like jelly, holding me against the wall as Hunter stalks away toward the showers.

What just happened? I swore it looked like he was about to...kiss me.

No, that can’t be right. I’d obviously misread that. He was only mad I’d shoved him.

Which, looking back at it now, was an incredibly stupid thing to do. Why am I picking a fight with a guy who could easily bench-press me?

Still, my body tingles remembering how close he’d been. How he’d caged me in with his big frame. It should have been frightening. Instead, it’d been...exhilarating.

Why do I keep reacting like this to him? The guy is a jerk. I can’t stand him. He glitter bombed me today, for Christ’s sake. Looking at my hands again, it’s like I’m wearing two shiny pink gloves.

I head into the single bathroom and use about half the bottle of hand soap as I scrub my hands raw getting everything off, then scrub the spot on my forehead. Fucking glitter. It’s the herpes of craft supplies.

The only thing making this bearable is knowing Hunter’s probably having just as bad of a time getting rid of the glitter I wiped on him. He must be going crazy shampooing his hair.

Serves him right. Especially after that comment he made in front of everyone about me wanting to put my hands on him. Why is he so hell-bent on embarrassing me? What did I ever do to him?

I continue washing my hands, occasionally cursing Hunter’s existence under my breath, but ultimately, this is my fault, too. I’ve been right there with him pulling pranks in retaliation. Shame pulses hot in my stomach remembering the disappointment in Jed’s voice as he said what I did was unacceptable. I’ve never been reprimanded for my behavior ever. I’m the girl you can count on. The one who never messes up.

What I should have done is told Chief McClure about the fake cockroaches as soon as it happened. But there was something in me that didn’t want Hunter to know he got the better of me. That turnabout is fair play.

Look where that’s landed me, though. Covered in glitter.

This whole thing has to stop. It’s gotten way too out of hand. Which is a real shame because I found a great idea involving putting Saran Wrap over a toilet bowl, so when you pee it goes everywhere...No, not doing that. I’m turning over a new leaf.

My fingertips are pruney by the time I’m finished, and I put my turnout coat back on before I rejoin everyone out in the front yard.

Well, not everyone. Hunter’s not here.

Jed gives me an uncomfortable look. “Chief wants to see you in his office.”

My lips compress tightly as I nod in acknowledgment and turn back around. Harry gives me a sympathetic smile, but I don’t meet his eye, afraid I might cry if I do. This is like getting sent to the principal’s office.

Hunter is already seated in one of the two chairs in front of Chief McClure’s desk, his hair wet. There are no visible signs of glitter, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t some still sprinkled among the strands.

I remove the bulky coat before sitting, and squeeze my hands together in my lap, waiting for our judgment. Going on the chief’s expression, it’s not good.

“I’ve heard about the pranks,” he says bluntly. “And frankly, they’ve gotten out of hand.”

I nod but Hunter simply sits there stoically, not acknowledging the comment.

“We have our share of fun and games here,” he continues. “But at the end of the day, I know all my guys have each other’s backs. That when shit hits the fan, they’re there for one another in an emergency.” He eyes us carefully. “I can’t say I get the same assurance from you two.”

Silence lays thick and heavy in the room with the weight of his disappointment. I swallow hard, hating the lump forming in my throat. Whatever you do, don’t cry , I tell myself.

“If you pass this training program, you’ll be on a team. In potentially life-or-death situations together. The people of Green Valley are depending on us, and I take that responsibility seriously. I need my crew to do the same.”

“Yes, sir,” I croak out as Hunter finally nods in agreement.

Chief McClure leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers over his midsection. “What I want to know is why you’re here. What’s your motivation for joining this program? I’m going to need some good reasons if I let you stay.”

I glance at Hunter, but he’s looking down at his lap, his mouth a grim slash across his face.

Okay, guess I’ll go first, then.

I clear my throat, hoping my voice is stronger than I suspect it’ll be. “My dad was a firefighter. Before he died. Before my mom and I moved to Green Valley.”

“Did he die in the line of duty?” he asks softly.

I clear my throat again, wishing I had something to drink. “No, but I wanted to do this as a way to honor him.”

Chief McClure’s gaze pierces me, until I have to look away.

“Do you think acting like this is the best way to honor him?”

Tears prick the corners of my eyes, and I glance at the ceiling, rapidly blinking them away. Shame washes over me again, stronger than when Jed chastised me. “No. But I’ll do better.”

He seems to take my measure, then nods once before turning his attention to Hunter. “And you?”

Hunter shifts in his chair. “I have my reasons.”

“I’m going to need something more than that,” Chief McClure replies wryly. “I’ve given you the benefit of the doubt so far, but the O’Connors aren’t exactly known for their good deeds around town.”

Hunter lets out a quick snort of disgust. “So that’s it? I’m kicked out because of my idiotic family?”

The older man eyes him speculatively. “That remains to be determined. First, I want to know why you’re here.”

Hunter leans forward so his elbows rest on his knees, but doesn’t reply. A solid thirty seconds pass, each one ratcheting the tension in the room higher. Is Hunter going to respond? Should I leave? This is so incredibly awkward.

Maybe it’s only me feeling that way, though.

“I want to do something meaningful,” Hunter finally says into the silence, his gaze on the floor. “Something that makes me feel good about myself for a change.” He pauses, seeming to struggle with his next words. “Something where I’m not Ralph O’Connor’s son.”

I stare at him, surprised at the plaintive note in his voice, almost like a...yearning.

His head turns, his gaze catching mine. There’s defiance there, as if he’s daring me to say something about his confession. As if I’d make fun of him.

I look away, uneasy with his assessment of me.

Chief McClure rubs at his jaw as he considers us. “You both have solid reasons for being here. But I also need you to learn to work together if you’re going to be on my team. I don’t need any liabilities. So whatever differences you have, hash them out now because you’re going to be spending a lot of time in each other’s company.”

Hunter jerks up straighter in his seat. “What do you mean?”

Well, at least I didn’t have to ask it.

“You two are partnered up for all future training exercises. And not only that, but either you both pass the final exams or neither of you does.”

There’s a beat of shocked silence and then I blurt out, “That’s not fair.”

At the same time, Hunter jumps to his feet and says, “You can’t do that.”

Chief McClure’s lips purse briefly. “I can do whatever the hell I want. I’m the chief of this fire station. And I need to know that everyone here has complete trust in their partners in any kind of situation. Call it unconventional, but if you’re serious about this, you’ll have to help each other.” He points to me. “You help him with the written test.” He points to Hunter next. “And you help her with the physical one.”

“I can’t make him smarter,” I point out.

“And I can’t make her stronger,” Hunter shoots back.

“Guess you two have got yourselves quite the dilemma. I suggest you come up with a plan to fix that.” He gets up from his desk. “Feel free to use my office as long as you need. You’re excused from the rest of today’s instruction.”

As Chief McClure exits, the tension in the room ramps up again. Is he serious about this? I don’t pass if Hunter doesn’t either?

“This is fucking bullshit,” Hunter mutters as he sits back down, raking a hand through his damp hair.

I turn in my seat, tired of all of this. “Why don’t you like me?”

His gaze flicks to me and away. “What are you talking about?”

“You’ve had it out for me since our first day here.”

He rolls his eyes. “You’re delusional.”

And now he’s gaslighting me. A wonderful way to start out this new partnership. “No, I’m not. None of the other guys care that I’m a girl. But you started in right away on how weak I was.”

“And you did the same with how dumb I am.”

We stare at each other, unwilling to concede the other’s point.

“I wouldn’t have said anything at all if you hadn’t started it.” I could have played nice if he would have.

He crosses his arms over his chest and slumps further in his seat. “Finger-pointing isn’t going to help.”

Damn it. He’s right. But still, I’m not letting him off the hook. “No, but I want to know what I ever did to you to have you single me out like that. We’ve never even really spoken to each other before this.”

We weren’t in any of the same social circles in high school and we only had one class together senior year.

“Speaking wasn’t required,” he mumbles.

Now it’s my turn to ask what he’s talking about.

He doesn’t answer my question right away, though. He shifts in his seat, staring at the floor, the silence extending.

But I’ll be damned if I break it first.

Finally, he sighs. “You were a brainiac in high school, always showing everyone up. Now you want to come here and do the same thing?” He looks over, his brows two dark slashes over his eyes. “Can’t I have one place where I’m sort of good at something without you trying to be better?”

Responses flit in and out of my mind, nearly too fast to grasp. He thinks I’m some kind of narcissist? “I’ve never tried to be better than anyone else.”

He makes a sound of dismissal. “Bullshit.”

I inhale and exhale slowly. I won’t lose my cool. “I hold myself to high standards, but that doesn’t mean I’m competing with other people. I’m competing with myself.” He doesn’t say anything, so I continue, “I admit I’m not on par with everyone else with the physical stuff here, so I make up for it with the academic stuff. It’s what I’m best at.”

Another eye roll is all I get in response.

“Hey, if your ego is threatened by that, that’s on you to deal with. Not me. I’m not dumbing myself down so you can feel better about yourself.”

He shakes his head, angling himself so that he’s fully facing me. “No, so you can feel better about yourself. That’s all that matters, right?”

What is he talking about?

His head tilts to the side, studying me. “What, you don’t remember economics?”

The one class we shared senior year? Well, his repeat senior year.

“What about it?” I have no idea where he’s going with this.

“We were partnered for that project where we had to make the fake business. And you begged Ms. Norwich for a different partner. If I remember right, you asked for literally anyone else .”

My mouth opens and shuts, no words coming to defend myself as the vague memory resurfaces. How does he know about that?

“You said you didn’t want to be stuck with me,” he accuses. “That you knew how I was. That you knew you’d end up doing the whole project by yourself.”

There’s such contempt in his voice, it’s hard to look at him, but I do. “That had been after class,” I whisper through dry lips. “And privately to the teacher. No one else was around.”

His gaze narrows. “If you’d bothered to look, you’d have seen me in the doorway. I’d come back to ask you when we could get started. I...”

He trails off, hesitation in his voice now.

“What?” I ask.

He’s silent again.

“Really,” I plead. “Tell me.” I swallow hard. “I want to make this right.”

He studies me again for a moment. “I was glad to be partnered with you,” he says in a softer tone, the accusation gone from it. “I thought someone could finally show me how to do a project like that. I would have done the work.”

Something in my chest twists, hot and sharp. Disappointment? Guilt? I’m not sure.

“I thought I might get a good grade for once,” he continues. “That you might be willing to tutor me in the class, too. You were the smartest girl in school.” His breath hitches for a moment. “But you laughed with Ms. Norwich about me and she reassigned you.”

He drops his head and rubs at the back of his neck. “Shit. I don’t know why I’m saying any of this to you. Forget I said it, okay?”

He gets up and I grab at his arm, not letting him leave. “I’m sorry,” I blurt out. “That was shitty of me and I obviously didn’t mean for anyone to overhear it. Least of all you.”

The thought that this could be an elaborate prank crosses my mind briefly before I dismiss it. He wouldn’t paint himself in such a pathetic light. Or maybe his acting skills are that good.

“I was really stressed out at home,” I explain. “Stuff with my mom at the time. Not that it’s an excuse, but I didn’t want to add any more to my plate since that project was a big part of our grade. I’m...I’m sorry, okay? I sincerely apologize.”

His gaze is on me again, and it’s all I can do not to squirm under the weight of it. Finally, he shrugs. “Yeah, okay.”

“Are we good? I don’t want to get to the end of this training program and find out you still hate me.”

He looks away, then down at his arm. Oh God, I’m still holding on to it, aren’t I?

I release my grip and he tucks his hands into his pockets. “I don’t hate you,” he mutters.

For some reason, that moment out in the hallway returns to the forefront of my mind. Him dangerously close to me, our faces inches apart.

No, stop thinking about that.

“Dislike me, then. Or resent me.”

“We’re good,” he says with finality. “God, you’re tenacious, aren’t you?”

I don’t think he means it as a compliment, but that’s fine. “I can help you study for the written test,” I offer. I need to do something to relieve this gnawing, twisting guilt in my chest. “It’s seven years too late, but I’ll tutor you.”

“Because if I don’t pass, you don’t pass?”

My lips thin. “Are you determined to think the worst of me?”

“Sorry,” he mutters, not meeting my eye.

“Are you free sometime this week? We could go to the library.”

“Is that your home away from home, Miss Brainiac?”

I bite back the sarcastic response that’s sure to set off another war between us. He’s on edge, his hands twitching in his pockets. I can’t take the bait.

He rolls his shoulders back, stretching his neck from side to side. “Yeah, the library’s fine,” he says, not acknowledging his acerbic question. “How’s Monday night?”

“That works for me.”

“I’ll be there at seven,” he replies, and stalks off.

I sit in the empty office for another minute, collecting myself. Has he really been holding on to that grudge all this time? It was seven years ago. I had no idea I’ve taken up this much of his mental real estate.

And what about his other accusations? That I always showed everyone up? That I tried to be better than everyone? Was that true? Or were his opinions coloring how he viewed it?

Well, I could sit here and obsess over high school endlessly, going over every interaction I ever had with anyone, but I’ll save that for tonight when I’m trying to sleep. For now, there’s nothing I can do about the past. Instead, I need to figure out how to make amends.

Even if it kills me.