Page 1 of As Long As You'll Have Me
MILES
• JULY •
My eyes hang low as the older man recites the final words of the committal service. Holding my hands tightly in front of me, I squeeze my jaw as the large wooden box slowly lowers into the ground.
“I’m in here! A beam has fallen, someone!”
I press my eyes shut and try to block out his screams. When I open them again, my ears catch the sound of his wife, now widow, crying softly in her seat. The men of our company are in full dress uniforms, standing at attention as we pay our respect to our fallen comrade.
It shouldn’t be like this.
It should be me.
I told him to stay back but he ran in anyway. And I couldn’t get to him in time.
A raging heat burns across my skin as I stand shoulder to shoulder with the other men and women of Firehouse Nine. It’s as if I’m back in the burning building, trying to reach Wesley, trying to save him.
But I can’t. I don’t.
And now it’s too late.
I swallow hard as the casket touches earth and salute, a final goodbye to a soul lost too soon.
It should be me in that hole.
And I’ll never forgive myself that it’s not.
1
MILES
• THREE MONTHS LATER •
“Miles.”
I hear the men in my crew call out to me but they seem so far away. My feet feel like they’re cemented to the ground and I’m unable to move.
“Miles, we have to go man!”
When I blink, everything feels like it’s happening in slow motion. Several heavily suited bodies run past me towards the heat. The sound of hoses being dragged through the street and connected to fire hydrants battle to snuff out the all too familiar sound of fire destroying wood. While the flames snake their way through the building, suffocating the structure in heat and smoke, I stay frozen.
Because while it isn’t happening now, it feels like it is.
Like the flames are threatening to reach my skin any second if I don’t get away from them. Like the cracks of burning wood and drywall are coming from above me instead of thirty yards away. The sounds of screams blare in my ears so loudly I feel like my head’s about to explode. Smoke fills my lungs making it hard to breathe. My throat starts to close as my eyes lose focus.
A hard hand smacks me on the back, pulling me back into reality. Turning, I face one of my best friends and member of my fire company. He also happens to be my foster brother.
“You good?” Carter asks, eyebrows pressed together with concern.
I force out a short breath and nod. “I’m good.”
“Then let’s fucking get it,” he answers. We kiss our knuckles before bumping fists like we always do for good luck. When he jogs towards the blaze, I take another breath, trying to steady my typically unshakable nerves, and follow him inside.
2
HANNA
“Yeah, I’m heading into the office now.”
