Chapter 1Saved Him From Fire, He Sued Me For Damage

I was on leave at home when my neighbor’s kitchen caught fire. I rushed in right away and pulled him and his wife out.

The next day, he called the police and accused me of damaging his fifteen-thousand-dollar imported kitchen cabinet while putting out the fire, demanding I pay for it in full.

I didn’t argue and silently cooperated with the investigation.

He went around the neighborhood spreading rumors, “Aren’t firefighters supposed to be so rough? Rescuing people is so clumsy!”

A month later, his father had a sudden heart attack on the 28th floor. The elevator was out of power, and he couldn’t carry his father.

He knelt down and begged me for help. I looked calmly at the stairs and said, “I’m too rough. What if I bump or jostle your dad? I couldn’t afford to pay for that.”

* * *

I was off duty, doing a set of pushups in my living room, when the smoke detector down the hall started screaming.

Pure instinct took over. I bolted to the balcony.

Thick, oily black smoke was billowing out of the kitchen window of Unit 1702, diagonally across from mine.

"Fire!" someone shrieked from the courtyard below.

I didn't waste a single second thinking. I grabbed the emergency fire axe and extinguisher I kept by my front door and sprinted into the hallway.

The neighbor's door was unlocked.

I kicked it wide open. A wall of blistering heat and toxic black smoke slammed into my face, instantly drawing tears to my eyes.

"Hello? Is anyone in here!" I shouted over the crackle of flames, dropping low to the ground to avoid the worst of the smoke.

"Help... help us..."

A weak, raspy voice drifted from the living room.

I crawled forward through the smog and spotted two figures collapsed near the sofa. It was my neighbors, Derek and his wife Sarah.

They had inhaled a massive amount of smoke. Both were drifting in and out of consciousness, coughing violently against the floorboards.

The kitchen fire was completely out of control now. The flames were already licking the expensive cabinetry and inching dangerously close to the main gas line.

There was zero time to hesitate.

I grabbed them by the collars of their shirts, one in each hand, and used every ounce of strength I had to drag their dead weight toward the front door.

"Hold on, I am a firefighter. You are going to be safe."

Combined, they weighed well over three hundred pounds. Dragging them across the hardwood floor felt like pulling concrete blocks.

Above us, the heavy chandelier groaned. The intense heat was melting its fixtures, and the glass was beginning to shatter and rain down.

I had no choice. I had to use the most brutal, direct method possible to carve a path out of this inferno.

As we reached the entryway, a massive chunk of the ceiling gave way. To avoid being crushed, I jerked them hard to the side, throwing my own body weight heavily against the hallway storage cabinets.

With a deafening crunch, the imported wooden panels splintered into pieces under my shoulder.

I ignored the pain shooting down my arm, gritted my teeth, and hauled them out into the safe, breathable air of the stairwell.

Minutes later, my crew from the local firehouse arrived on the scene and quickly suffocated the blaze.

I handed a hacking, half-conscious Derek and Sarah over to the paramedics, then slumped against the cold hallway wall, gasping for oxygen.

My off-duty clothes were soaked in sweat and coated in toxic soot. Several deep cuts bled down my forearm.

Derek finally caught his breath through an oxygen mask. He looked up at me, his eyes full of complex emotions.

"Gavin... thank you for this."

I waved a soot-stained hand, my throat burning. "Don't mention it. Just doing my job."

The very next morning, I was scrubbing the stubborn ash out of my clothes when the doorbell rang.

Two uniformed police officers were standing on my welcome mat.

"Are you Gavin?"

"Yes."

"We received a formal complaint. You are suspected of a property damage offense. We need you to come down to the precinct to answer a few questions."

My brain short-circuited.

"Property damage? What are you talking about?"

The officer pointed across the hall. "The homeowner, Derek, filed a police report. He claims that during yesterday's rescue, you intentionally destroyed his custom fifteen-thousand-dollar German cabinetry. He is demanding full compensation."

I stood frozen in my doorway, my blood running completely cold.

The man I had literally dragged out of a burning inferno yesterday. The man who had looked me in the eye and thanked me. He had turned around and stabbed me in the back without a single thought.