Free New Recruit by Em Petrova

building.
    Another banner flashed at the bottom of the screen: Car fire reported two blocks away from this blaze.
    Hanna wrung her hands and bounced both heels. East Street would be stretched thin with two fires in the same vicinity. That meant Jagger wouldn’t have the support needed to stay safe.
    She got up and paced five times before another banner flashed onscreen.
    Her jaw dropped. A porch set on fire two blocks in the other direction. This couldn’t be coincidence—someone was setting these fires. She heard sirens in the distance and wondered just where Jagger was. She stared at the TV, hoping for a glimpse of the man who’d just left her apartment. She needed to know he was safe so she could apologize for being an immature bitch to him later.
    »»•««
    “An insurance building blackened to ruins, a BMW burnt to ash, a porch set on fire, and two garbage cans burning. Hell of an hour and a half.” Jagger shook his head as he peeled off his equipment.
    Sweat ran off his body, and as the cooler air struck his throat, he dragged in a lungful of clean air. Two lockers down Gabriel looked to be in a daze, which was odd because normally he was on a high after a run. Nobody had been injured, and they’d cleared all but the building fire relatively quickly.
    The man didn’t speak as he dropped his outer pants and then the jeans he wore beneath. A fresh red hickey was livid on his hip, just below his tighty-whiteys.
    So that’s why the dazed expression. Jagger sank to the bench with a hidden smile. Good to know he hadn’t been the only man interrupted by the fire.
    While in the thick of battle, Hanna hadn’t been a glimmer in his mind. He felt a little guilty about that, but there wasn’t room for error in this line of work. He was focused one-hundred-and-twenty percent and as a result, people were safe.
    He scrubbed his hands over his face and then removed his boots. Some of the guys were in the chief’s office, debriefing. So many fires were surely arson, and the chief had spent long hours digging through ash to find clues. When he’d returned to the firehouse, he’d had been grim-faced.
    “A shitty end to the day. The auction seemed like a week ago,” someone said.
    “Hard to believe it was only a few hours ago. I wonder how many hook-ups will result from this auction.” Laughter followed.
    Jagger shot a glance at Gabriel. His friend’s throat worked, and his face mottled red. Jagger connected the clues. Gabriel had been auctioned to that bartender friend of Hanna’s, he wore a brand new love bite on his hip, and he was blushing at the mention of the auction.
    Hanna. The need to get to her was suddenly stronger than his desire for a cold shower. Jagger shed the rest of his clothes and grabbed his towel folded in the top of his locker. Then he gave himself a quick rub-down before pulling on fresh clothes.
    “In a hurry, Jagger?” Gunnar McCauley asked as he walked by with a towel slung around his hips.
    “Yeah.” An involuntary grin spread over his face.
    “Going after that little morsel you dragged from the auction? I wouldn’t mind going home to that.”
    He didn’t want anybody getting any ideas about Hanna. She was his and his alone. “Not your goddamn business.” Between his words and the roughness in his voice, Jagger sounded ready for a fight. Gunnar wasn’t easily riled, though. He flipped Jagger the bird and walked away to the sound of laughter from some other guys.
    What the hell had come over him? He knew Gunnar was just ribbing him, yet he’d felt his muscles tighten with the need to attack.
    It took Jagger five full minutes to get his head screwed on straight. By then Gabriel and the others were gone, and he was alone in the locker room. He glanced at the clock high on the cracked plaster wall. If he showed up at Hanna’s door at this time of night, would she let him in? He didn’t like the idea of knocking and scaring her from a slumber, but he liked the thought of sleeping