Lawson by Crystal Daniels

1

Lawson

Nothing like a rooftop view. I stretch out my legs and stare up at the stars. The night sky is clear, and there's a Blood moon hanging low over Graystone tonight. I lean back, breathe in the night air, let out a heavy sigh and tap my foot to the music playing from Frankie's, the bar down the road. I rub my eyes, tired from the lack of sleep these past few days.

The guys and I spent most of last week in a town northeast of Waco, tracking down Chad Miller, who goes by the nickname Smiles. He skipped out on a large bond for drug trafficking, and the three gutter trash he left town with are accused of murdering an older man in another state.

Three days of following leads and tracking their whereabouts before finding the four of them held up in a rundown hotel on the outskirts of the town they stopped in. Because Chad Miller was in the company of accused murderers, we had to notify the local police. At the end of the day, after a lengthy standoff and gunfire from the fugitives, we walked away with our bounty, so I consider the hunt a success. No one died, and we brought another criminal to justice.

"Thought I'd find you up here." My dad's voice startles me from my thoughts. He drags a lawn chair across the flat top roof and sits beside me. "Peaceful up here," he states and looks out into the starry sky. "You okay, son?"

Other than Gray Wolf Corp having back-to-back cases for the last two weeks and the usual insomnia I've dealt with for years? I let out an exhausted breath and rub the back of my neck. "I'm good, Dad."

"Not sleeping well again?" he asks, looking concerned.

Insomnia and vivid dreams are the direct results of being in the military. I only take medication to help me sleep as a last resort because the side effects I experience with rem sleep are flashback nightmares. "You should slow down." My dad looks at me. "Maybe go on vacation and recharge. You are only 38 years old, son. Living life in the fast lane has a way of catching up to you, and it looks to me that you're on burnout."

"I'll sleep when I'm dead." I close my eyes, resting them for a moment.

"I was just like you in my younger days." Leaning back in the lawn chair, Dad props his feet on the building's ledge, crossing them at the ankles. "What you need is a good woman to go home to at night."

I drop my head and shake it. "Not happening."

My dad sighs. "The love of a good woman has a way of bringing peace and balance into your life."

"Mom has been complaining about my personal life again, hasn't she?"

Dad chuckles a little and folds his arms over his chest. "Your momma only wants to see you settle down and start a family." He turns his head and looks at me. "She means well."

"I know she does." I pause for a second, then quickly change the subject. "Have you heard anything about Gator?"

The fire department is short one person—Owen, who is at home recovering from his first round of chemo. We call him Gator because he's a big guy from New Orleans. I've known Owen for several years now. His family moved here from Louisiana to our small town after losing everything during Hurricane Katrina. His wife Robin works at my mom's clinic, and the couple have four kids together. Life handed his family a shitty hand when he was diagnosed with non-Hodgkin lymphoma two weeks ago. Even though the doctors caught it early, his cancer is aggressive, which means they need to fight back hard and fast. It couldn't have been any more unfair. Owen is a damn fine family man, friend, and one hell of a firefighter.

"Robin says he's holding up fairly well," Dad says.

"Fuck cancer," I say, and Dad nods, agreeing. "I was thinking; why don't we organize a fundraiser for Gator? I'm sure he could use help with medical bills."

"I think that's a fucking fantastic idea, son."

My eyes water when I yawn. "I'll make some phone calls tomorrow."

I can feel my dad staring at me. "You should be home resting after the week you've had. We can manage around here," my dad says. "You, Ransom, and Gideon have been burning the candle at both ends here lately."

"I'm good, Dad—promise."

Since coming home from my military service, and around the same time Ransom suggested we start our own business Gray Wolf Corp, I've been with the Graystone fire department. It took a bit of time for us to get the bounty hunting thing running at full steam. Not that there aren't plenty of criminals and skips to be had, but, at the time, Gray Wolf Corp was new on the scene. We needed to prove ourselves—that we could run with the best bonds companies in Texas. Over time, word got around, and our work speaks for itself. My friends and I go above and beyond to catch bad guys. I'm fucking good at running down skips. All that said, the three of us needed work to fill in the gaps of time between cases, and I needed to keep myself busy, so I jumped right into the fire academy. It was another way to give back to my community and an opportunity to work alongside my dad, who is now Graystone's fire chief.

As Gray Wolf Corp grew, my time here at the fire department became an issue. For a while, I struggled with which career I wanted more. In the end, I figured why not do both. Now, Gray Wolf Corp is what I do full-time, and I volunteer 8-10 hours a week with the Graystone fire department. The pay isn't much, but I'm not bothered by it. I have plenty of money. My parents taught me the value of a dollar from a young age, and saving it for a rainy day is essential. That's just what I have done since I was fifteen years old and got my first job working for Mr. Wiley down at the lumber mill. He is one of the best men I know. To this day, at 80 years old, he still puts in a hard day's work. It may not be a full day, but Mr. Wiley believes staying active is what keeps him healthy and going strong. He's the one that taught me about investing and the stock market. You wouldn't know it by his modest way of living that Mr. Wiley is a wealthy man. When I was old enough, I made my first few investments. I didn’t make much money right away. It wasn't until my second year of military service that a few of the stocks I invested in started to do well. I let those funds build over time, untouched, and would play the buy, sell, trade game and live off the small salary the army paid me.

Working hard and giving back to the community comes from my parents. My dad was a driver engineer for the department. His work ethic and dedication to being a firefighter for his community helped him climb the ladder over the years. Now, Dad is Graystone's new Fire Chief after Walker Bancroft retired a couple of months ago. He and my mom are the reason I give 100% to everything I venture into. They struggled for years, building a solid foundation for the family. Even when the odds appeared to be stacked against them, they persevered. Momma became pregnant with me while trying to make it through medical school, but she and my dad never gave up on their dreams and aspirations. Now, here they are, several years and four kids later, living what they feel is their best life. Through all the ups and downs, my mom and dad are still crazy in love with each other.

You would think knowing all those things would make a man dream of having the same one day, but the truth is, I like being single. No one to answer to but myself. I come and go as I please. There is absolutely nothing tying me down to one place or person. Not that being with one person isn't ideal. It's just not what I want for myself at this point in my life. I might not ever be ready to settle down.

"Well." Pop slaps his thighs, then stands. "I'm going to give your momma a call, then try and catch some rest myself. You should do the same." He grips my shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze.

"I'll be down in a few minutes."

I sit on the rooftop for a while longer, mulling over ideas for the fundraiser, until my eyes grow heavy and burn from lack of sleep. Listening to my body, I head inside to the sleeping quarters and stretch out on an empty twin bed, and it's not long before I'm drifting off to sleep.

The blaringfirehouse alarm wakes me from a dead sleep, and my feet hit the floor. "Let's go, men," my dad announces over the intercom. I shake off the remaining effects of drunken tiredness, thankful that I didn't fall asleep long enough to dream, and start moving. I, along with Anders, Julius, and Hudson, rush downstairs. "Location?" I ask, stepping into my boots then pulling my fire bib up my body.

My dad is already in his gear. "Oakwood subdivision." He jumps into the cab of the fire truck, and I climb behind the wheel while the other three men jump into the back.

I start the engine and sound the sirens before pulling out of the truck bay. Through our headsets, we listen to Lori, the 911 dispatcher, relay information. "Be advised the neighbor just saw the adult owners of the home run out the front door with two kids, and the father ran back into the burning structure."

Shit. I drive faster, maneuvering through town with ease since there is zero traffic at 2:00 am. We arrive on the scene at the exact moment police and an ambulance roll up. The entire back side of the home is consumed by fire. "Rock and roll!" Hudson shouts, jumping out of the truck.

"Please, help. My dad went back to get my sister." A young teenage girl cries, running toward us. Off to the side, a woman I'm assuming is her mother is cradling an infant in her arms, crying.

I check the gauges before tossing a tank onto my back. We have no choice but to go into the burning home. I rush toward the house with Anders at my side while hearing my dad shout commands to get water on the back side of the structure. The fire is spreading fast, and chances of finding survivors are rapidly decreasing by the second. Once inside, we are immediately assaulted by the thick toxic smoke and intense heat. Knowing the father and at least one other victim are somewhere in the home puts me on another level of urgency. I only pray this doesn't end in a body retrieval. The smoke alone will kill them before the fire does. Using thermal energy cameras, we begin clearing the first floor, looking for any victims still trapped. Waves of fire roll across the ceiling as flames flicker out from the back part of the house.

I'm breathing hard, sounding like Darth Vader as we maneuver around furniture, going from one room to the next. Our team's communications sound muffled as everyone talks through their air masks while combating the burning inferno from the outside. I consider myself to be in decent shape, but no matter how many times I've done this, the weight of my gear and the oppressive heat quickly exhausts me.

"Lawson, Ander—report." My dad's voice filters through the radio.

"The first floor is clear. We're heading for the second level," I report back as we ascend the stairs. Each step up, the air grows hotter, and the smoke becomes so thick that if it wasn't for the upgraded technology we have today, we wouldn't see our hands in front of our faces.

"Fire is spreading through the attic, toward the front of the house," I hear Hudson say. "Where's Lawson and Anders?"

"We're still inside," Anders replies.

"Get the hell out." Hudson's voice crackles through the headset.

My foot hits something solid, and I look down. "I have a body." The father is holding his small child, and an extra surge of adrenaline kicks in. "Dad is holding the third child."

"Get them and get the hell out of there," my dad shouts.

I scoop the child into my arms, tucking its face into my chest, and Anders grabs the father. "I'm right behind you," Anders grunts, hoisting the man onto his shoulders. "Go—go!" he shouts.

Just as we exit the house, I hear the splintering sound of wood at my back. I don't have to look to know the roof is collapsing.

I rush toward the waiting EMT, lay the toddler on the gurney, and watch them go to work. The child lies motionless, and my stomach sinks. I remove my mask, feeling the fresh air hit my hot skin. To my right, they have the father on the ground. The other members of his family watch helplessly while first responders try to revive their loved ones. "Come on," I whisper to myself, rooted in place, watching with them as the lifesaving scene unfolds, praying we got them out in time.

Finally, a choking cry escapes the toddler, and relief washes over me. Then I hear the EMT working on the dad shout, "Father is breathing!"

Being a bounty hunter and a firefighter has its rewards. I help put fugitives where they belong and get the chance to save lives and put out fires. That is why, no matter how tired I am, I will always love what I do.