Ember (The Everyday Heroes World) - Jo-Anne Joseph Page 0,3

tells me.

Turning toward him, I offer a smirk. “And miss out on all you pussies crying for me?”

“You’re the pussy that’s going to be crying all the way to Sunnyville,” he retorts.

I bow my head, shaking it. “I’m going to miss your miserable ass.”

“So you have been thinking about Aidan’s ass?” Kyle, another one of my friends, pipes in.

“Not as often as you do, fucker.” I chuckle. Aidan and Kyle were the first friends I made at this station. They welcomed me and always made me feel like I belonged.

I look around the room at my friends, my brothers, men I’ve walked and fought hell alongside for years. They laugh and goof around. It’s a farewell party, so I don’t feel very cheerful.

Change can be a good thing, but sometimes when you’re a part of something like this team, it’s bittersweet. I miss Preston too. He’s been on leave. I’ve tried to stay out of his and Bronwyn’s way.

There is no doubt I’ll miss each one of them, but it is time to move on, away from the city. I like to tell myself it’s so I can be closer to my sister, my parents even, but the truth is what wakes me up every night. The truth is the thing that nightmares are made of. It claws at me, all those cruel reminders of my inadequacy.

If anyone needs a fresh start, it’s me, and maybe I won’t mess up this time.

Chapter 2

Shelby

“Shit!” I yell, as my feet press painfully into what I know is a Lego block even before looking down from far too much experience. There are slippers available now for these monstrosities, but I never did get around to buying them. I curse myself for not thinking they were a necessity.

“That’s a point down, Mom. At this rate, you’re going to be broke.” Brody giggles.

“Brody!” I glare at my eight-year-old. “I have told you to pick up your toys a hundred times.” I place my hands on my hip. The boy dares to remind me of our little demerit system at a time like this when my poor feet ache like hell. Rude or cuss words mean you lose a point, and you gotta pay a dollar for it.

I limp over to the table and sit down opposite him.

His smile falls at my limp. “Sorry you got hurt, Mommy. I’ll clean it up, I promise.”

“And if you don’t, you’re not going to Uncle Grady’s playhouse this weekend.” That ought to get him. If there is one thing my son can’t do without, it’s his Uncle Grady. Grady Malone has been like a second father to Brody. He even built him a playhouse so they could hang out together. Brody and Grady are close, and I know Drew would want that. For a long time after Drew died, I couldn’t face Grady; my late husband's absence seemed more acute when he was around.

“That sucks.” He pouts, his spoon falling from his hands and clinking into his cereal bowl. I arch a brow. The older he gets and the more time Brody spends with the guys, also known as The Sunnyville Firefighters, he thinks he’s a big man. Still, those men are all amazing, and I love them for the way they love Brody. More than I dare to admit to their faces.

“Watch that mouth, boy, or I will make it a month. And we’re even now!”

“Mommy,” he whines. He looks so much like his father, I can’t be mad at him for long. He finishes his cereal then walks over to the living room, gathering a few of the toys off the floor.

A honk outside has him standing upright and rushing for his backpack and lunch box. He runs up to me, wrapping his hands around my waist. “Gotta go, Mommy.”

I kiss the top of his head, smelling that baby shampoo I refuse to stop buying. “I love you, Sunshine.”

“Love you too,” he yells as we walk toward the door. He pauses. “I think you’re my favorite mother.”

I laugh out loud at that as he rushes down the pathway and climbs onto the school bus. The driver waves to me, and I wave back in greeting. I watch the bus drive down the street and send a small prayer to the universe to keep my baby safe.

I walk back inside and do the dishes. According to our menu, it’s pasta night, which means I need to go to the store. Just the thought of it is exhausting, but