“Yeah, that’s right! Highly trained professionals over here.”
That was all the time for celebrating he gave himself before bending his knees and lurching up to shift Noah’s body higher onto his shoulders. He surged toward the cabinet still surrounded by flames, forcing his overloaded legs to propel him onto the big steel box. The judges might deduct points for his form, but he’d made it, damn it. Two quick steps over the fiery floor and then he was dropping down into the hallway, the momentum knocking him face first into the opposite wall.
Hang in there.
“Almost out, Noah,” he grunted. At least his nose hadn’t broken and his headlamp was still functional. “But we’re going to talk about you remodeling that dad bod as soon as this is over. You used to be lighter.”
Fireman, heal thyself, Wyatt chided. He should have cut down on the leftovers and worked out more with that rookie, Bobby. The big kid was always training for something. Wyatt, on the other hand, was on the wrong side of thirty-one, his endurance was shit and he was feeling the strain of carrying a geared-up Noah on his back.
Even though they’d been fighting the blaze for hours, his weakness now was unacceptable. The captain could no doubt do this carry with one hand tied behind his back, and that man’s belly came into the room five seconds before he did.
This fire was bullshit, he thought to himself as he stepped over a collapsed ceiling tile. It shouldn’t have taken so long to put out, but every time they thought they had a handle on it, another explosion surprised them.
Had to be arson. It wasn’t his job to think or care about that, but even he could see that everything about this burn was wrong. There was no restaurant or kitchen facility here, no chemicals stored on site. Nothing that would create this dark smoke and unnatural acceleration.
Their new fire marshal would figure it out. She was young and a little aggressive, but then a woman her age had to be when dealing with old grizzled assholes who hated change.
Assholes like him. He imagined she was already on scene at this point, giving his captain hell for what Wyatt was doing right now. This walkthrough was not, strictly speaking, standard operating procedure.
He was almost sorry he was missing it.
When he finally reached the door to the stairwell, he bumped the push-bar with his hip and pushed out onto the landing.
“Maybe we should introduce the marshal to cousin Calamity. Kate said she wants a girlfriend she can’t steamroll.” He coughed when a dose of thick, pungent smoke filled his lungs.
I dare you to stop talking for five minutes, firecracker. You can say it all downstairs.
His auditory hallucination had a point. Once they were outside, he’d need his voice to fill in both the captain and the marshal on why Noah and Kadir had gone off script. He might be the only who’d heard them call out “Movement, second floor!” before they dove right into the inferno like goddamn probies with a death wish.
Being the idiot brother was usually his job, damn it.
But then, people had always thought he and Noah were twins. Interchangeable in most things, but especially on the job. For years they’d been known for being reckless or heroic, depending on who you were asking. And there wasn’t a story told at the firehouse—involving a prank or an insane rescue attempt—that didn’t include the names Wyatt or Noah Finn. Usually both.
Three years ago, Noah became a single father overnight, and everything had changed. Just like that, he’d started talking about safety and making smarter choices. He’d changed his work schedule to make it more reasonable. He’d changed his whole life to make it more baby friendly, taking Wyatt by surprise and leaving him to catch up or fall behind.
And now what? The kid had just celebrated his third birthday so his father thought he had permission to race into a burning building as if he were still fireproof without anything to lose?
Fuck. That.
He got that the restraints on Noah’s social life had been starting to chafe. It was what he’d been worried about as soon as his brother had told him his plans. But it was no excuse for being irresponsible.
Wyatt had been getting that lecture ready when Kadir strode out carrying a shaking older woman in his arms. “Well, thank God for that,” he’d said under his breath, watching for his brother’s silhouette in the doorway.
Seconds had ticked by like hours while Wyatt stood there, holding his breath. Where the fuck was his brother?
Then another side window shattered and Kadir had shouted Noah’s name. When Wyatt saw a handful of the guys restraining him from going in again, he’d slipped on his mask and made a run for it instead.