Page 1 of Found Through Fire

CHAPTER 1

WILLOW

Heart thumping and ears ringing, I fight to keep my eyes locked on the entrance to the coffee shop that’s been taunting me since I sat down.

It’s downright annoying. I’ve been in so many high-tension situations: staying up all night with labored breathing, rejecting the pain meds that help me sleep, fearing my next breath could be my last and the cancer would take me away from my family. Fuck, even something as simple as public speaking in front of a crowd of people, or staring down the barrel of a gun while on a job didn’t make me feel as shaken as I do right now.

But this meeting in particular has me on edge. That much is evident from the sweat glistening on my palms, and I nervously run them down my nice dress.

That’s it! I’m freaking out because unlike the actual badass, everyday “me,” I’m dressed like a fucking lady. To hell with wanting to make a good first impression! I mean, yes, I can look professional for work. But I’m most comfortable in my shorts and combat boots—my nice Converse if I’m going somewhere fancy. Yup, that’s why I’m losing my cool. I’ve planted my flag in denial, and that is where it will stay. It’s nice here, and the weather’s warm.

Now I’m sitting here, rationalizing why I’m being such a baby. I can't help it. Being raised in my family and doing my type of work means I’m always on alert, and I’d never change that.

I won’t say I had an amazing life by any stretch of the imagination, but Ididhave an amazing family. Life’s just a bunch of subsequent situations, good or bad, always changing. Family is a constant that must adapt to those events. I was one of the lucky ones who had a family that took all the bullshit in stride, never cracking under the weight.

I plant my restless hand on my thigh, smoothing over the soft, white fabric. The sales lady called it “eggshell” when I bought it, and I had to smother my “eight basic colors” tangent; it’s just another reminder of why online shopping is my lane to stay in.

Through the lightweight material, I trace the edge of my thigh holster, where I keep my favorite knife and gun, trying to draw in the familiar comfort. Normal people fidget with their hair when they’re stressed, but I have always been a little extra, by some definition. I’m great in professional settings or around family, but beyond that, I’m lost in a room full of people.

People tend to give me anxiety and indigestion.

My phone vibrates in my dress pocket—and yes,pockets,because they should be in every piece of clothing.

Freaking sexists, thinking women need ridiculously little-to-no pockets!

I take the phone out, knowing it’s theQuadgroup chat, my three favorite idiots. My brothers and I have been called Quadruplets since the day we came home from the hospital, but shortened it to “Quad” as we got older. I smirk down at the screen as the text bubbles continue to pop up. Clearly, the idiots posted in the wrong chat.

Tell

Do we have a bet going for how long it will take Will to punch someone? You know what happens when she is released into the general public.

Gig

Nah she hasn’t been violent in months.

Ben

Not violent? She smacked me on the back of the head before she left!

Tell

I meant with non-family. And were you sitting with your back to her? You know better. She is like a stray animal. Never turn your back!

Gig

I feel like you had it coming for some reason… And you need to be careful with that! I feel like you only have so many brain cells left! A few more of those and we may have to start child-proofing the house!

Ben

I’m offended! I feel like she overreacted when I said something about her height…and I’m not stupid enough to sit where I can’t see her!

And I feel like we have too many 90-degree angles in our house.

I was standing and she jumped…

Tell

…