Chapter 14
Cassidy Irons was not the only one who watched the news special regarding Madelyn Stratus that morning.
Jon had as well.
He didn't know how to feel about it because, to Jon, the news was nothing more than leeches creating drama. This special was different though and it was obvious why he was biased. The little girl, Madelyn, had truly touched him and he couldn't deny it…at least privately. To everyone else, he would deny he cared about her until the day he died. Jon had a reputation to maintain after all. His mind traveled back to the previous Friday, 3 days ago, and could honestly say it was the best moment of his life being presented with that plaque. Colby did what he said he'd do and hung it up in the lounge area since it was for the entire fire department. Deep down though, Jon knew Madelyn meant to present him with it and him alone. He knew the truth and that was all that really mattered.
Sighing, Jon stood up from his bed and stretched, cracking his neck in several different places, shutting the small television off in his room. It was time to head out to work. Jon had the weekend off to recuperate from his motorcycle mishap and to cool his temper down, ordered by Captain Layfield. So Jon busied himself over the weekend fixing his motorcycle, thankful it was only a line that had to be replaced, which is why his oil leaked. Jon wasn't taking any chances though and had ordered a new pan along with lines, wanting everything replaced regarding the oil pan. It would take a week for the parts to arrive and Jon would have to do everything at his favorite motorcycle shop his buddy, Sam, ran. Sam didn't mind considering Jon gave him a lot of business, but Jon didn't let anyone touch his motorcycle, just the painting part Sam would take care of personally.
All the tires on his truck were replaced and Jon had gotten a warranty on them just in case the hoodlums who struck did it again. He had Sam do them as well since his shop also fixed vehicles on occasion as long as it was simple. Jon had his truck towed to the shop and gave Sam the business, where he'd made the deal regarding his motorcycle. Because of everything Jon had been through lately, Sam knocked off the towing from Jon's bill and changed the tires out within an hour. If Jon had to listen to Colby sing another made-up song with a country tune again, he would kill him without blinking. Showering, Jon dressed in his usual jeans and t-shirt with bandana, never changing the way he looked. He was out the door in 10 minutes and headed to the gas station, needing to fill his tank with gas. When he went in to pay the attendant for his service, Jon spotted the newspaper and immediately took it off the shelf, pushing his black shades up on top of his head. It was him and Madelyn spread across the front page of the Tampa Bay Times.
"What the fuck?" He muttered, immediately leaning against the counter and read the article in full, stroking his chin at the part where Madelyn talked about him being her savior. "Christ kid…"
"Here you are, sir…" The attendant suddenly froze, eyes widening as they moved to the newspaper the customer held and gaped. "Holy cow, you're Jonathan Good aren't you?! Hey look, Claudine, it's the guy who saved that kid from the Bell Elementary School fire!"
Jon did not like when people began buzzing and swarming around him, suddenly hightailing it out of the gas station with paper in hand. He was going to kill the Tampa Bay Times newspaper for printing this article, snarling under his breath. Peeling out of the gas station parking lot, Jon headed straight to the fire station, already knowing he would be teased mercilessly for the article and picture. Madelyn had asked him to take a picture with her and Jon couldn't refuse, suddenly wishing he did because now it was plastered all over Tampa.
"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." Jon kept muttering, slamming his hands on the wheel and pushed the black shades over his eyes, knowing there was no way he could hide from the city. "Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!"
What the hell was he going to do? He'd watched the news, though they hadn't shown his picture to the public, so Jon thought he was in the clear. Whoever took that picture at Chime Junior High had enough brass balls to send it to the Tampa Bay Times, possibly even worked for the place. Jon was screwed, he simply knew it and there wasn't anything he could do to stop the public from recognizing him now.
"This is all Anoa'i's fault." He hissed, blaming Joe for everything because, if Joe hadn't taken off work that day, Jon wouldn't have covered for him. There would be no picture taken and he would've stayed out of the public eye. "I'm gonna kill him."
Joe was having his own issues as he ducked another swing aimed at his head, stumbling back away from a very irate Colby Lopez. He'd taken the rest of the weekend off, using vacation days he had stored up and somehow Colby found out he was with Trista the whole time. Joe had tried denying it, but the fiery look in Colby's eyes made him rethink that lie. Colby managed to connect one good punch to Joe's jaw, but that was it.
"YOU SON OF A BITCH!"
"Come on Colby, listen man…" Joe tried reasoning, but he knew it wouldn't do any good. "You got this all wrong!"
"THE HELL I DON'T!" Colby roared, tossing a chair across the room in the lounge area, dark eyes deadlocked on Joe Anoa'i. "I'm gonna show you what it means to mess with someone's family, BRO."
"If you'd just hear me out…"
"I'd rather hear your bones cracking under my hands as I snap every part of your body." Colby growled, completely serious and lost his focus for a second just as Jon stepped through the door. "Hey it's the star of the show, boys!"
Jon pinched the bridge of his nose, already popping some aspirin in the truck and prepared himself for all the teasing. "I'm not a damn star." He grunted, walking past Colby and Joe to grab some coffee, a smirk flitting across his lips. "So Anoa'i, tell me something, how was your days off with Trista?"
Joe's grey eyes shot wide open and he lost focus in dodging Colby, ending up with a fist clobbering into his face. "FUCK MY NOSE!" He bellowed, stumbling back and landed on the small couch, groaning in pain.
Jon smirked, enjoying Joe's agony considering what he went through Thursday night and Friday. "Need help snapping it back in place, Joey?" He asked, walking over and sat in his usual chair, crossing his ankles with a cup of hot coffee.
"YOU ASSHOLE!" Joe roared, suddenly standing up from the couch and hissed out in pain as blood spurted from his nose. "YOU TOLD HIM?!"
"I assumed." Jon corrected smugly, not moving when Joe came toward him and calmly drank his coffee.
"WHAT THE FUCK, JON? WE WERE GONNA TELL HIM WHEN THE TIME WAS RIGHT!" Joe's entire face and turned a dangerous cherry red, looking as though steam would pour out of his ears any second. "WHY?!"
Arching a slow brow, Jon wondered if Colby's fist to Joe's nose caused the man to have temporary amnesia. "Do you really wanna know?" He suddenly rose to his feet when Joe spit blood at him, looking mildly amused with glacial blue eyes. "Anoa'i, you knew the fire safety class was THAT day you asked me to cover for you. You neglected to tell me that information when you called begging me to take your shift. So I had to stand in front of a gymnasium FULL of brats and talk about fire safety in homes…" His eyes spit pure ice now, watching Joe slowly back up. "And then I had to be presented with that damn plaque you see hanging behind you and my picture taken too…" He trailed off, suddenly thrusting the newspaper right in Joe's face, trembling with barely contained anger. "AND YOU WANNA KNOW WHY I TOLD HIM? THINK ABOUT IT! BECAUSE OF YOU, THE WHOLE GODDAMN CITY KNOWS MY NAME AND FACE NOW! Consider it fucking payback." Storming past Joe, Jon started heading outside and was stopped by Captain Layfield walking out of his office.
"Jon, there's someone on the phone for you. It's a woman named Cassidy Irons with Tampa Bay Times. She wants to interview you about that little girl." Captain Layfield put the woman on hold and only knew Jon was here because of his bellowing. "Line 2."
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Jon couldn't believe this, shooting another deadly glare at Joe and wanted to ring his neck for causing all of this. "I'm not doing it."
"Yes you are." Captain Layfield clamped a hand on Jon's shoulder, brown eyes full of determination. "You can't back out of this now, Good. Your face is all over the damn Tampa Bay Times and everyone knows your name. The public is gonna want to hear what you have to say about the little girl. Now get in there and talk to the woman before I stick my foot up your ass."
Apparently the captain had grown a set of balls as well, Jon thought disdainfully, as he was pushed bodily into the room, slamming the door shut behind him. This was insane, why did he have to talk to some bitch that had leeched a story off an innocent girl? Jon stared at the phone broodingly and back at the door, wondering if he had a chance in hell at escaping.
Not likely.
"Fuck." He'd used that word a lot today and didn't care, plopping down on the seat, noticing line 2 was blinking on the phone.
Then a thought occurred to him, an evil smirk spreading across his lips as he picked the phone up and pushed the flashing button. Just because he was forced to do a phone interview did not mean he would answer the questions asked. If the bitch didn't like it, she could take a flying leap off a very short pier for all he cared.
"Good." He rasped, leaning back against the seat and closed his eyes as soon as he heard the female voice respond.
"At last we meet, Mr. Good." Cassidy replied in a soft voice, sitting at her cubicle at the Tampa Bay Times, pen and notepad ready. "Thank you for taking the time to talk to me. My name is Cassidy."
"Call me Jon." He gruffly ordered, scrubbing a hand down his face and wondered if he could put the phone on speaker without the other guys eavesdropping. "What did you need from me…" Damn, he forgot her name already.
"Cassidy."
"Cassidy…" The name rolled off his tongue smoothly, liking that name for some reason.
She physically shivered when he said her name, his low raspy voice forcing a rush of heat coursing through her body. "Correct, now I just wanted to talk to you a little bit, see if we can't get to know more about Madelyn's savior."
"I'm no savior, woman." Jon argued, his tone blunt. "All I did was my job, end of story."
"Be that as it may, Jon, you are the hero of her story and the public wants to know more about you. I've gotten over a dozen phone calls already asking when we'll be talking to you because they want to hear your side of the story and what you think about what happened to Madelyn" Cassidy didn't appreciate his attitude and made her own tone clipped, making it clear she wasn't backing down. "And my name is Cassidy, not woman."
This lady had fire, Jon thought, and he wasn't sure how he felt about her talking down to him. "What the hell do you wanna know then?" He just wanted to get this over with.
"Well where are you from?"
"Florida."
"How old are you?"
"28."
Peyton was right on his age, thankfully, because Cassidy had taken a gamble putting that in her article. "Tell me something about yourself besides the fact you're a firefighter." She requested, already planning on doing more digging on him.
"How about this, Cassidy? You ask me the questions and I'll answer them." Unless he didn't like the question, then Jon would tell her where to stick it.
Cassidy smiled, tapping her pen on the table contemplatively. "Fair enough, what made you decide to become a firefighter?"
"None of your business. Next." He refused to talk about his childhood and reason for taking this job, shaking his head.
"That's very rude, Jon." Cassidy chastised, her smile turning into a frown. "You told me to ask you questions and you'd answer them."
"Yeah well, there's no law stating I have to answer questions I don't like, Cassidy. Next."
This guy was a downright dick! Cassidy gritted her teeth, setting her pen down before she snapped it in half. "Well what questions can I ask you without getting that answer?" She retorted swiftly, raising an eyebrow and ignored her other line ringing.
"Stick to the damn story." Jon suggested, rubbing his temples. "I'll answer about the fire at the school and Madelyn. I just don't talk about my past…with anyone."
"Fine, do you have an opinion on what started the fire at Bell Elementary?" Cassidy couldn't believe how this phone interview was progressing and wished she'd never agreed to this.
Jon snorted, wondering if she was serious. "Grease fire. Next."
His short answers were getting on her nerves as Cassidy shoved the notepad away suddenly, her frustration building. "Do you consider yourself a hero?" She had to stay professional, even though this man deserved to be throttled.
"No. Next."
"Were you surprised to hear about Madelyn being bullied by the Mayor's daughter?" Cassidy popped some aspirin, feeling her head pounding and really wanted to hang up on this jerk. How could Madelyn think he was a hero?
"When a kid is sealed in a locker, it's pretty damn obvious she's being bullied and something is going on. The principal is related to Levesque, so he turned the other cheek and let his niece get away with torturing her. My opinion, do with it as you will." Jon remained blunt, refusing to show any more emotion than he had. "Next."
"Will you please stop saying that word?" Cassidy absolutely had it, gripping the arms of her chair so tight her knuckles turned white.
"No. Next."
"Mr. Good, this phone interview is over. Thank you for your time."
Jon laughed as he hung up the phone, not believing she hung up on him and shrugged, heading out of the office. Nosy bitch, he thought, nodding when Captain Layfield asked if he'd done the interview and headed to the weight room to take his frustrations out on the punching bag.