Sawyer Bennett - c Chance

I was prepared to tell Flynn all of those things and more, but he threw me for a loop when he walked back into my life and started talking about my parents.

There was a moment—just a split second—when he said he went to Texas that I despised him. Anger surged through me, white hot that he would dare to dredge up those painful memories. But it left just as quickly when I came to the complete and absolute realization that Flynn did it out of love for me. He did it as a way to let me confront my past.

I would like to say I was devastated over my father’s reaction, but I really couldn’t even muster up enough energy to care about him. The fact he lays broken and withering in a nursing home really doesn’t bother me at all. I wonder if that makes me a bad person, a numb person, or a realistic person.

When my mother walked through the door, I thought she was a ghost. I didn’t spare a glance at her new husband, but stared at the woman who birthed me and then threw me away. Anger surged again, and I wanted to claw her eyes out. But then, that faded quickly and hurt and confusion took its place.

I couldn’t believe the things she was saying. That she had failed me... that she was taking complete responsibility for everything that was done to me. She wouldn’t even let my father take the fall, because as a mother... she said it was her absolute duty to protect me.

It was only when she was getting ready to walk out that door that I let my heart make a split-second decision to let her back into my life. I certainly had no clue to what extent that would be, but I knew that for my own sanity and emotional well-being, I had to hear her out and I had to make peace with it.

She and Peter followed me into the kitchen and I waited for Flynn to come in. When he didn’t, I walked back out into the living room and he was gone. This made me sad, because I really wanted him by my side, but with everything I had done to him... with the way I had let him down, I deserved no less than to have him walk away.

My mom, Peter, and I talked until the early morning hours. I learned that my mother had an early love-hate relationship with my father. She loved him for the security and companionship he brought, but she hated the control that came with it. I believe her when she said that she sort of drank the Kool-Aid he offered to her, and she let her maternal instincts wither away to keep him happy.

I also believed her when she told me that her wake-up call came within hours of me leaving. She begged my father to call the police and go after me but he refused. She got in her car and drove the roads for hours, searching for me. Ironically, she even went to the bus station but I wasn’t there. I know I wasn’t there because I sat across the street in a diner until my bus was ready to leave.

My mom stayed with my father but the relationship deteriorated badly. They fought constantly and, within just a month of my leaving, she was residing permanently in another bedroom. They separated not long after that, although she didn’t make immediate moves for a divorce. She said it was almost too much work to have to fight him.

It was only after she met Peter that she had the strength to cut final ties and start her life over again.

Luckily for her, Peter is a Godsend. He stood by her quest to find me, shelling out tons of his own money to hire private investigators. He held her at night while she cried herself to sleep, and he even arranged for a memorial service for me when the last investigator said I was probably dead. I look forward to getting to know this man better as he seems to be a genuine soul… like Flynn.

My mother and I have a long way to go to fully repair our relationship. The last five years of my exile are hard for me to accept, but knowing that she wanted me, and that she knew she made a terrible mistake, makes it easier to accept. Before they left, I told her the words she needed to hear.

I told her I forgave her.

My mom and Peter are going to stay in New York for a few days and we’re going to get together for dinner tonight. I called Nix and asked him for tomorrow off so I could spend more time with them, and he didn’t even bitch at me once. He must still be having post-honeymoon bliss or something.

Rolling out of bed, I slip on some clothes to take Capone for a walk. Then I need to get in the shower and over to the Station.

There’s a firefighter I need to see about building a relationship with.

When I get to the firehouse, I tentatively walk inside the large bay doors that are open. Thankfully, I see Tim standing there talking to another firefighter. He glances up and sees me, offering a warm smile.

He walks up and says, “Hey Ro-Ro.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Ro-Ro? Since when am I Ro-Ro?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know. You just all of a sudden seemed like a Ro-Ro. Looking for Flynn?”

I nod. “If he’s available.”

Chuckling, he starts to walk toward the back of the bay. “I have a feeling he’s always available to you.”

I don’t move and he glances over his shoulder. “Well, come on in... we don’t bite.”

Giving him a shy smile, I say, “I know... I’ll just wait here though. I want to talk to him in private.”

“Ah,” he says in understanding. “A little dirty talk, huh?”

Snorting, I say, “Yeah... that’s so not it.”

“Okay, hold tight and I’ll go get him.”

I walk up to the fire engine closest to me, admiring the gleaming silver and shiny red paint. Several sets of turnout gear line up near the wall with the helmets hanging on pegs above.

Over the past few months, Flynn has taken a lot of time to satisfy my curiosity about his career. I’m always fascinated when he comes home from his shift, anxious to hear about all the exciting things he’s done. Some of it scares me... the personal danger he is in, but I’m also extremely proud of what he does for a living.

And let’s face it... firefighters are hot!

I start chuckling to myself over that thought and start imagining Flynn in his turnout pants and suspenders, with nothing else on underneath. My face flushes warm and I wonder... if I can put us back on track… could I talk him in to that.

Oh yeah, knowing Flynn... he’s game.

“Hey,” he says softly from behind me.

He’s wearing his regular uniform of navy blue utility pants tucked into black boots. His navy FDNY t-shirt fits tightly across his chest and I can see the tattoos on his biceps peeking out. His hazel eyes watch me warily and his arms cross over his chest, maybe to protect his heart.

He doesn’t look welcoming but I didn’t expect much to be honest.

“How’s work going?” I ask.

Lame-ass!

“Good. Thanks.”

“Well... I wanted to stop by and thank you... for going to Texas... for bringing my mom back with you.”

Smiling, he shrugs his shoulders. “It was nothing. You would have done the same, I’m sure.”

“Yes,” I tell him simply. “I would have.”

Flynn glances down to his boots and when he looks back up, he takes a few steps forward. Casually leaning one arm on the truck, he asks, “So, how did it go last night?”

Taking a deep breath, I say, “It went good actually. We talked for hours. It was... healing to hear the things she had to say.”

“I’m sorry your dad couldn’t give that to you.”

“I’m not. I know he never had it in himself to give.”

Flynn nods in understanding. “I think you’re right. But remember this—he’s alone and has no one. That’s what you get when you don’t have love.”

I wince internally because damn if that isn’t a pointed jab at me, although I know Flynn probably didn’t mean it that way.