Seven Days

Chapter Seventeen

Frerin couldn't remember the last time he felt so... shitty, for lack of a better word. He climbed into his Jeep after leaving Sal's Liquors and figured he'd just drink himself into a stupor tonight and hopefully when the end came, he wouldn't even be aware of it.

"T's right. I'm a fucking coward," he muttered, glancing at the passenger seat, where a one-point-seven-five liter bottle of Jack Daniels stood in its innocuous brown paper bag. But, Syd had made it clear, she didn't want to talk to him.

At least, she had until...

"Motherfucker," he growled, tugging his phone from the console to see he'd missed her call. His spirits rose as he toggled to his voicemail and her sultry voice washed over him.

"It's me—ah, Syd, Frerin. I—uh—I'm sorry. No, that's stupid... I mean, I am sorry, but I—give me a call when you get this, okay? I think we need to talk. So, uh, just call me. I don't care what time it is. Bye."

His hands actually shook as he pulled up her number and hit mobile to dial. His mouth was painfully dry and for a moment, he considered cracking open the vodka to steel his nerves.

"Hey, this is Syd. I'm sorry I missed you, but leave me a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can."

"Fuck," he muttered, and then as the beep sounded, he said, "Hey, Syd. I guess we're playing tag and you're it, honey. Call me back when you get this and hopefully, I'll still be here to answer." He winced. "Uh, yeah, that was an asshole thing to say and I'm sorry, honey. Call me, okay? We do need to talk."

He tossed the phone onto the seat alongside the whiskey and as soon as it hit the seat, his text alert went off. He scooped the phone back up and sighed. Massive warehouse fire and all units were being recalled to combat it.

He swung out of the liquor store lot, hit the switch on his dash to active the flashing red emergency lights mounted on the Jeep's grill, and took off in the direction of the firehouse.

He and Nico pulled in at the same time and Nico said, "So much for a day off."

"Ah, it's just as well." Frerin slammed the driver's door shut and they hurried inside. "I could use the distraction."

They kicked off their shoes, got into their trousers, boots, coats, helmets, what have you, and within minutes, they were on the truck and tearing ass toward the western side of Cranford Falls.

Frerin tried not to think too hard about what this might mean. He'd died the first time in a fire at his house and now, that had been changed. He wasn't home. He hadn't hit on anyone's sister (not that he had the first time. The sister in question was a bunker bunny who was making it her life's goal to fuck as many Cranford Falls firefighters as possible and he wasn't touching her with a stolen cock.) The future had been altered.

But maybe he'd die in this fire instead.

He thought about what Thorin had told him, about the dream he'd had. Ma always insisted they were descended from seers and soothsayers—both Norse and Irish. Maybe Thorin's dream was a warning.

Maybe his life was about to be cut short.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back. Please, not yet. Let me talk to Syd one last time and try to make this right.

"You okay?" Nico elbowed him.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just—it's been a long week."

"Too many late nights with the girlfriend? Wheeler said you guys popped into the house last night. I hate to tell you this, but now he's got a hot nut for your woman."