Reece

Dear Dad, I promised Matt I'd do this.

I know it'll piss you off, but a promise is a promise and I can't let him down.

***

Baring your soul wasn't as easy as I'd thought. There was so much I wanted to tell Dad. Remind him about all those times he'd said no, every time he'd made me feel less important than my brother. Every time he'd made me cry and wish I were Matt instead of me. There were years of pent-up resentment that could fill entire reams of paper yet I'd managed to scrawl just a few lines. Somehow, the right words were impossible to find — if they existed at all.I folded the crisp white sheet of paper into thirds, then folded that in half, tucked it carefully into my pocket and thought about abandoning this entire pointless idea. But I had no other options. I sucked in a deep breath, tried to ignore the pound of my pulse, and left the car.

It was time.

At the entrance where the roll-up doors were all the way up, I stopped and took a good look around. Red trucks gleamed in the light. I could hear guys busting each other's balls, laughing hard and cursing loud. The slight scent of mildew tickled my nose when the April breeze blew my way. The fire station was every little boy's fantasy, including mine. But I learned a long time ago that it did no good to dream.

Then I saw Amanda Jamison, packing nylon rope into a bag and just watched. In her station uniform, the lean muscles in her long limbs flexed when she strode to a truck to stow the bag. I knew Amanda from school.

Knew the blond hair she wore scraped viciously back and twisted into a knot at her neck was straight and smooth, reached past her shoulders and smelled like lemonade. Knew I had no shot with her. She'd never said so much as "hi" to me.

She'd had a thing for my brother.

She caught sight of me, turned and didn't notice her rope bag tumble out of the truck. "Matt? Oh, God. Matt."

Matt. My shoulders sagged. Okay. No turning back now. I swallowed hard and walked into the house where I had never been welcome. It took only three steps for recognition to fill Amanda's eyes. Or maybe, it was revulsion. The two often went hand in hand where I was concerned. Mom says people just didn't get me. I figured that's because Dad always told them I was strange.

"Excuse me." I cleared my throat. "Could you direct me to the chief's office?" I took out my completed application from the bag on my shoulder and her eyes popped.

"Reece Logan," she said with a sneer, and I jerked in surprise. Apparently, she did know me. She'd come to Matt's funeral; she and a few other kids from Junior Squad. Hard to believe that was four months ago. She'd hugged my dad, kissed my mom's cheek, and walked right past me. I figured that meant she'd heard all about my father's version of the accident that killed Matt — and believed it.

When she glanced over her shoulder at a group of guys in turnouts checking the equipment on Truck 3, I knew exactly what she was thinking. She probably hoped they'd pick me up and toss me out of the station for her. I saw the way her eyes scanned me from head to toe. She was cataloging. Indexing. Comparing me to Matt. When I held out my hand, she looked at it with disgust all over her face.

I swallowed hard, searched for something, anything, to say. "You came to the funeral. You and Gage."

She squeezed her eyes shut and when she opened them, they were wet. "Yeah. We did."

"Thanks for that. It was... hard." I laughed once, a short uncomfortable huff of air, and then shrugged. Understatement of the century, but what the hell are you supposed to say about your brother's funeral?

"Amanda? Problem here?"

She whipped around to face the tall thin man standing in the swath of sunlight. He took a step closer and I recognized him. Mr. Beckett, the chem teacher from school.

Her face hardened. "Right. Hard." She picked up the rope bag she'd been packing and shoved it back into Engine 21. She slammed the compartment door, and I had the feeling she wished it were my head. I figured she didn't want to know there was someone who looked this much like Matt, sounded like Matt, walking around while Matt couldn't. When she stalked off to talk to Mr. Beckett, I knew I'd underestimated her hatred, but couldn't let that stop me.

"Hey!"

She whipped around. "What."

"Chief." I waved the sheet of paper at her. "Please."

She pulled in a deep breath and ground her teeth together. "Go home."

I laughed bitterly and shook my head. Hell, hers would probably be the nicest greeting I'd ever get in this house. I stepped around her, strode to the door that led from the apparatus floor to the inner offices and prayed I'd survive this even if it was only long enough to keep my word to my brother.