Scorchin' (The Hot Boys Series Book 2)

by Olivia Rush

  The men sent up a cheer and then broke up and hurried off to the trucks. I started off toward my usual role as the driver, but before I could even move a foot, I felt the pressure of a hand pressed against my chest.

  “I want you hanging back for this one,” said the chief, regarding me with serious eyes.

  “Why?” I asked. “I’m the best damn driver here.”

  “Just do what I say, Stokes,” he said. “Hang back on the truck and take a bird’s-eye view of the crew. Watch what they do, notice their strengths and weaknesses. And make sure they don’t get out of line.”

  I gave Chief a quizzical look.

  “I, uh, I’m not sure what this all about, Chief,” I said. “Am I in trouble or something?”

  “Stokes, an ex-SEAL like you should know better than anyone that you don’t gotta understand orders—you just gotta follow them. I’m gonna be staying at the station taking care of some bureaucratic bullshit, so you’re gonna be my eyes and ears out there. Got it?”

  He had me there.

  “Now move out.”

  He clapped me hard on the shoulder. I spotted Mike already hanging off the side of the truck as usual. Chief’s words still in my head, I climbed up and took position next to Mike.

  “Yo, Ethan!” Mike called out. “You’re hanging back here with the rest of us? What’s the freakin’ occasion?”

  “Chief’s orders,” I said, keeping my hands wrapped around the metal frame of the truck.

  “He’s keeping you humble,” said Stone. “Doesn’t want you getting too comfy behind the wheel.”

  “Or maybe golden-boy Ethan screwed something up and we’re just not in the loop,” said Mike.

  “If that’s it, then I don’t even know about it,” I said.

  Before any of us could say another word, the truck engine roared to life, the vibrations running through my hands and chattering my teeth. The big brown curved-top garage door opened with its usual metallic groan, the room filling with the clear, bright noon sun. The truck lurched ahead, and we were off.

  “Yeah!” shouted Stone as we pulled out onto the streets of Brooklyn. “This shit never gets old!”

  Moments later we were ripping through traffic, the wind cool on my face and the dissonant whine of the truck’s sirens blasting in my ears. Confused as hell as to why Chief had me back there, I tried to stay focused on the task at hand.

  The apartments and businesses of Brooklyn whipped by, the young professionals who lived in Williamsburg all turning their attention to the truck as we raced by. A small smile formed on my face as I thought about how Mike was right, how there really wasn’t anything like being on the back of a truck, rushing through the city on the way to do some good. I’d joined the FDNY after the SEALs, hoping for some action and a chance to make a difference in the world. And I sure as hell got what I was looking for.

  Soon we were headed down the long stretch of Wythe Avenue, the towers of Manhattan peeking out through the breaks in the buildings to our right, the sun in the cloudless sky above making the glass and steel skyscrapers of Midtown glitter and shimmer. Off in the distance, I spotted our destination, an ambulance and a pair of squad cars lined up on the street, lights flashing.

  The trucks slowed as we approached. Once my truck had stopped completely, I hopped off the side and rushed over to assess the situation.

  “What we got?” I called out, my eyes flicking from the cops to the paramedics as I took in the scene.

  But I soon realized what was going on. The storefront ahead of us was totally wrecked, a car smashed through the glass. Through the passenger-side window, I could see the still form of someone in the car.

  “Accident!” shouted one of the cops. “Total goddamn mess!”

  “Any fatalities?” I asked.

  “Nah,” said another one of the cops. “No customers in the store, and the staff was in the back doing inventory. But that poor SOB in the car’s stuck. And he looks like he’s in bad freaking shape.”

  Right at that moment, Chief’s words sounded in my head. I took a slow breath and scanned the scene, noting what everyone was doing. Mike was behind me, chomping at the bit to get into action. Stone stood with his arms crossed, waiting for orders. Rick had his truck under control, the crew all ready to move.

  There was no fire, so I sent Rick’s truck back to the station. They were a little disappointed, but they got it. This was a one-crew job, and too many cooks in the kitchen would just complicate things.

  “Jaws of life, now!” I called out, hurrying over to the car.

  I cupped my hands around my eyes to block out the light and looked inside. There I spotted a girl, no more than twenty, lying barely conscious in the driver’s seat. Blood streaked her forehead from where she hit the steering wheel, but the rise and fall of her chest made it clear she was still alive. Under the pedals, I spotted the rectangular screen of a cell phone, text message conversations visible—it wouldn’t take a detective to figure out just how this girl ended up putting her car through a storefront.

  But the metal was crumpled, and it’d be no small task to get her out of there.

  “What’s happening?” she mumbled, her voice muffled through the glass.

  “You’re gonna be OK,” I said. “You got in a little accident, and we’re gonna get you out of there.”

  Mike and Stone approached from behind with the massive tool, and we set right to work. The driver’s side door came off with ease as soon as we cut through it. Reaching in, we managed to pull away the crumpled dashboard and clear enough space for the paramedics to get in and pull the girl out. We stepped back and let the rest of the staff do their work.

  “She gonna be OK?” I asked, watching the medics load the girl onto a stretcher and wheel her off.

  “Yeah,” said another one of the medical staff. “She’ll have a couple of broken bones, but nothing too serious. She got lucky as hell.”

  I nodded and took one more look around the scene. A ring of pedestrians had formed around the site. Now that the girl was safe, there wasn’t anything left for us to do. The boys and I loaded up the gear and headed back to the station.

  I spent the drive thinking about what Chief had asked of me, how he wanted me to keep an eye on the men and make sure everything went off without a hitch. Truth be told, being in a leadership position like that made me a little ill at ease. I’d done my share of leading back in the SEALs, and, well, it didn’t work out so hot for some of the men under me.

  “Coulda used a fire to put out,” shouted Mike, “but at least we got to do some good.”

  I nodded. Not every call that we got was a fire—some were just situations like this where some extra manpower and equipment was necessary. Still, it felt good to know that girl was going to be OK thanks to our efforts.

  Then, I saw something that blasted the previous operation right from my thoughts.

  As we turned the corner back onto the street where the station is located, I caught sight of something—someone—standing in the driveway in front of the station. We drew closer, and I could see that it was a woman. She was standing in front of Rick and one of the men from the other truck, and the three of them seemed to be in the middle of a very heated discussion.

  The truck pulled up in front of the driveway, unable to go in because of the three people blocking the road. And there I got a good look at the woman causing all of the commotion.

  To say that she was beautiful would’ve been putting it very, very lightly. The woman was slim but curvy, with killer hips packed into tight denim. Up top, she wore a light T-shirt cut low enough to hint at the full breasts underneath. Her hair was the color of rich chocolate and curly, the C-shaped ends draped over her shoulders. Seeing her fair skin, pert features, and eyes so green they look like brilliant jewels, I had to wonder for a second if one of the models who lived in the area had dropped in to pay us a visit for some reason.

  I hopped off the truck and stepped toward the trio. The girl’s eyes locked onto me as I appro
ached. Her features were even more striking up close, and it took all of the restraint I had to not ogle her on the spot.

  “You!” she said, pointing toward me. “Are you in charge?”

  “Sure,” I said, not wanting to bother Chief with whatever this woman had on her mind.

  “Great. Then you’re just the man I want to talk to.”

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