by Witt, L. A.
You’re not shooting outdoors tomorrow are you?
Thank God no. Still might need a hot shower when I get to your place though. ;)
I chuckled. That can be arranged. You’ll definitely need one after.
Promise?
Oh yeah.
I tried not to visibly squirm in my seat. I couldn’t wait until tomorrow night. After nothing but quickies lately, I was definitely counting down until I had him for the evening. I didn’t care that he wouldn’t be sleeping over. Just having him in my bed for a couple of hours was all I could ask for right now. As soon as I had him for longer than a few minutes, I was going to—
The alarm went off.
I froze mid-text and listened.
Car accident with multiple injuries. Time to go.
I shoved my phone in my pocket, grabbed my gear, and ran for the garage. In moments, the crew was in the cab and the engine was screaming out into the rainy night. We didn’t have far to go, fortunately—the collision had happened just outside of town, and we pulled up to the scene in under five minutes.
The first car was facing the wrong direction and missing most of the front end. The second—a large SUV—was on its side in a deep ditch, with the passenger side sticking up. Whatever had happened here, somebody had been going way too fast for a wet, curvy road. The exposed side of the SUV was smashed pretty bad too, so I guessed they’d been T-boned.
Laura, an officer I’d met dozens of times on scenes, jogged across the road to meet us as we climbed out of the engine.
“What’ve we got?” Ron asked.
“Driver of the car is fine and on his way to the hospital,” Laura said. “SUV’s got two people trapped inside. Passenger seems to be all right, but the driver says his neck hurts. Windshield and sunroof are both blocked by the berm the vehicle’s leaning against.” She gestured toward the vehicle.
Ron eyed the scene, then turned to us. “All right. Once we crack open the passenger door and get her out, someone’s going to need to go in and immobilize the driver before we get him out.”
Every head turned toward me.
No surprise—I was the shortest member of the crew, so it was easier for them to lower me in on a line and easier for me to move around once I was inside.
I nodded. “You guys get the door open, and I’ll get ready to go in.”
While the others went to work with the Jaws of Life on the passenger door, Ron helped me put on the rigger’s belt with the engine’s headlamps for light.
“You sure you’re up for this?” he asked just loud enough for me to hear.
“I’m fine.” I clipped the line to the belt.
He met my gaze. “We can always send in one of the younger guys.”
I glared at him.
He put up a gloved hand. “I’m just saying. We both know you won’t be able to move when we get back to the house.”
“And I’ll still be in better shape than the driver.” I fussed with the belt.
“But we’re—”
“Look.” I shot him another glare as rainwater poured down both our faces. “I can get in there more easily than anyone else. And when we go to extract him, I’m better off pushing up from below than pulling him out. That’s where we need you and the younger guys.”
He scowled but didn’t push. “They’ve almost got the girl out. It’s go time.”
We headed back to the SUV. The passenger was out now, moving on her own power, a little shaky, with tears mixing with rain on her face, but she was out. An EMT quickly put a blanket around her shoulders and guided her toward the ambulance.
One down, one to go.
Andy and Carrie put up a tarp to keep rainwater from pouring in on the driver. I climbed up onto the side of the SUV, concentrating on not slipping and sliding. My knee and back would love that.
Once I was in position beside the hole where the passenger door used to be, I turned to Ron. “Ready?”
He tugged the line and gave me a nod. “When you are.”
I nodded back. Now for the fun part.
I switched on the light on my hard hat, lifted the edge of the tarp, crawled under it, and started to ease myself in headfirst.
The driver eyed me.
“Hey, I’m Aaron.” I paused to inch over the wet, mangled metal. “What’s your name?”
“Um. Jesse.”
“You doing all right, Jesse?”
“Uh. I’d like to get out.” His voice was shaky, but he wasn’t slurring or disoriented.
“We’re working on that,” I said. “Stay as still as you can. I’m not going anywhere, okay? I’m right here.”
“Okay.”
I hoisted myself farther in, letting my center of gravity move from the side of the vehicle to the entrance, which meant relying on my guys to keep the rope tight so I didn’t face-plant.
Getting into a vehicle like this wasn’t easy. I had to go in headfirst so I could maneuver without accidentally kicking the victim. Also, if I got in and realized there was no place for me to let myself all the way down, I could still put a C-collar on him and check for any serious injuries we hadn’t been able to see from outside. There was a little bit of blood on his face, but otherwise, he wasn’t too bad on the outside. The EMTs had verbally checked for signs of TBI, broken bones, internal bleeding, or spinal trauma, and I’d check him more thoroughly once I got to him. Priority one, though, was getting into—
My foot slipped on the wet metal, and I sucked in a sharp hiss as pain shot up my leg. “Fuck.”
“What?” Jesse turned toward me. “What’s—”
“Don’t move.” I held up a hand. “You need to stay still, Jesse.”
“But are—”
“Cracked my kneecap on something.” Good enough. “I’m fine. And you will be too. Just don’t move.”
“Okay.”
He stayed still. As for me, I came down farther, pulled myself between the front seats, and turned so I was right side up. After I’d disconnected the line, I gave it a tug and called out, “Take it up.”
The line disappeared beyond the tarp.
I crouched behind the nearly horizontal driver’s seat. My knee protested furiously, but I ignored it. Ditto with my back. They could wait.
Now that I had a closer look at Jesse in the beam of my light—damn, he was a kid. Seventeen or eighteen if he was a day. Only a couple of years older than Shane’s kid. Jesus.
I shoved that thought out of my brain. Extracting and treating kids was a part of this job that I’d had to numb myself to many years ago, but sometimes it still hit me in the gut.
“All right,” I said. “I’m going to put a cervical collar on you so we can immobilize your neck. You have any numbness or tingling anywhere?”
“N-no. My arm hurts, though.”
“Which one?”
“Left.”
That made sense. He’d probably smacked it on the door during the collision.
I looked up at the tarp-covered door. “Can I get that C-collar? And we’re gonna need a splint for his arm.”
Ron pulled the tarp back and aimed a flashlight down at us as he held out the C-collar where I could reach it. “What’s the arm situation?”
“Pain right now.” I took the C-collar. “No numbness, no bleeding, but I want to immobilize it before we pull him out.”
He nodded. As he turned away, calling out for a splint, I faced Jesse again. That motion made a fresh spasm bite into my back, but I gritted my teeth. My own pain could wait.
For now, I focused on putting the C-collar on Jesse.
* * *
I lowered myself into an armchair in the firehouse’s lounge and made a silent vow to never move again. Ever. For any reason. This was where I would die, and when that happened, someone else could deal with moving my bones.
Ron watched me, grimacing sympathetically. “I told you we could send in one of the younger kids.”
“And if I hadn’t gone in, I’d have been helping you guys extract that kid. Either
way? This was how my night was playing out.”
He scowled but said nothing. We’d been through this. He had also been a career firefighter who’d had to surrender to age and injury and volunteered as much as his body allowed him to. I’d given him the same lectures he gave me. We probably both should’ve retired a long time ago, and we’d probably both still be doing this ten years from now.
“Your knee brace is in your locker, isn’t it?” he asked.
I nodded.
“You want me to get it?”
I exhaled. “Please do.” I fished my keys out of my pocket and handed them to him, and he disappeared from the lounge. I fucking hated wearing my brace at the house. Nothing said you might not be able to rely on me out there like not even being able to walk when there wasn’t an emergency.
Everyone here knew the drill, though. If there was another call and they needed bodies, I’d be on my feet and on the scene. Maybe not running into a burning building or dangling from a cable, but I’d damn sure be there to help. Entertainers relied on “stage wellness” to go on stage and perform even when they were sick as a dog. First responders? We had scene wellness. The more critical the scene, the more pain I could ignore until it was over. That alarm went off, my body would pull itself together enough to get through the call. Then I’d collapse again. Probably harder than I already had.
“You look like shit,” Carrie said as she came into the lounge. “How you feeling?”
“Gee, thanks. And I feel like shit, thank you very much.”
“Sorry to hear it. Need anything?”
“A shot of morphine, maybe?”
She laughed. “Good luck with that.”
“Yeah. Just don’t tell the chief about this if he calls, all right?”
“We never do. You think we want him to make you retire?” She snorted. “You’re the only one here who can cook.” She nudged my arm. “We’ll cover for you as long as you’ve got dinner covered for us.”
“Uh-huh. Just using me. I see how it is.”
“Yep.”
I laughed. “So shameless. I guess I should make something for everyone. I’m not going to be much more use tonight unless shit really goes down.”
“Yes, please. I’m starving.” She paused, and her expression turned serious. “Do you need any help, though?”
“Well . . .” I extended my hand.
She clasped her hand around my forearm and helped me to my feet. Yep, I’d been right the first time—should’ve stayed there and never moved again. But slowly the pain receded, and once Ron came back with my brace, I put that on so I could at least stand. Not comfortably, necessarily, but I was upright.
I hobbled into the kitchen to make something for the crew to eat. As I did, I glanced at my phone and—
Shane.
Shit.
My heart sank. We’d been winding each other up about tomorrow night, but there wouldn’t be one now. Not like we’d both had in mind.
Damn it. I had to fuck myself up the night before I was supposed to have Shane for a few hours instead of a drive-by quickie, didn’t I? Between his schedule and mine, who knew when we’d have that chance again?
Not that it mattered. I knew from experience that if I was this sore now, I’d barely be moving tomorrow. Which meant sex was almost completely off the table. If we were careful, maybe a couple of handjobs. A blowjob if I was really ambitious. But the kind of furniture-breaking sex we usually had? Not happening.
Despite my disappointment, I still wanted to see him.
Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained. I picked up my phone and wrote out a text.
You mind a low-key night tomorrow?
And I waited.
Chapter 15
Shane
Low-key how?
The reply was a photo of his knee in the hinged brace, and after that a frowny face emoji.
Ouch, I wrote back. Yeah, we can take it easy. Want me to bring over some food?
He started typing. Stopped. Started again. Stopped.
Finally, As long as you bring you. ;) Won’t say no to food either.
Yeah, I’d bring me. Of course. But he wanted me there when sex probably wasn’t happening? I stared at his text, gnawing the inside of my cheek. I enjoyed his company and all, even when we weren’t knocking the plaster off the walls, but was something like this going to make things blurry between what he wanted and what I’d stupidly asked for on date number two?
Then again, it wasn’t like we were going to some candlelit restaurant or anything. Chances were, we’d flop on the couch with his pets, watch a movie, and drink some beer.
I rolled my eyes at my own stupidity. And here I was worried things were getting too romantic. Because nothing said happily ever after like beer and cat hair.
I’ll bring me. LMK what food you want & I’ll grab it on the way.
* * *
The next night, I let myself into Aaron’s house with a couple of sandwiches from a deli down the street. He hobbled into the kitchen to greet me, Jack hot on his heels.
“You’re awesome,” he said and kissed me. “Let me grab some plates.”
I started unwrapping the sandwiches on the counter. “What’d you do, anyway?”
“Rough night on duty.” He gingerly took a step and put some plates down in front of me. “I swear some car wrecks are as hard on the body as a structure fire.”
“And probably a few times worse for the people who were in the cars when they wrecked.”
“Seriously. The one we pulled out will be fine, but I imagine he’s feeling it more than I am today.”
I grimaced. “Must’ve been a serious wreck.”
Aaron nodded. “Somebody took a blind curve too fast and, from the looks of it, slid on some wet leaves. T-boned the shit out of this SUV. That car ended up in the oncoming lane with pieces all over the place. The SUV went in the ditch.” He leaned into the fridge and pulled out a couple of beers. “I hope every last one of them knows how fucking lucky they are today.”
We went into the living room with the food and a parade of animals at our feet. They “helped” us eat, and I could see why—Aaron couldn’t resist giving everyone a small piece of turkey.
“Way to discourage begging,” I said.
He shrugged. “Eh, it doesn’t bother me. They have decent manners.”
Right then, the black-and-white cat put her front paws on my leg and craned her neck toward my plate.
I arched an eyebrow. “Manners, you say?”
He chuckled, picked her up, and deposited her on the back of the couch. With a tiny piece of ham from his sandwich to placate her, she stayed there. Of course, that meant the white cat and the dog got more too.
After we’d eaten, I took the plates into the kitchen, and by the time I came back, the dog had taken one end of the couch, and the white cat was taking a bath in my spot. “Really?”
Aaron laughed. “Welcome to life with cats.” He picked the cat up and moved her onto his lap. She looked put out for a moment but then continued her bath while he absently petted her.
I settled between him and Jack. “How’s your leg doing?”
“It’ll be better tomorrow, I think. Sometimes it acts up after a rough shift.”
“How often do you have rough shifts?”
“Not as often as when I did it full-time.”
“Makes sense.” I glanced at the brace. “Do you get a lot of really bad calls here?”
“You get bad calls everywhere. This is definitely a job where you expect the unexpected.”
“I believe that.”
He brought his beer bottle up to his lips but stopped short. “It’s weird, this job. You’ll respond to a four-alarm house fire that looks like something out of the movies, and everyone gets out without a scratch. Next day, you’re at a fire that doesn’t seem like much from the outside, and everyone inside’s dead of smoke inhalation.” He exhaled. “Car accidents, same thing. I’ve seen people leave minor-looking collisions in body bags.
I’ve pulled people out of the kinds of collisions nobody should’ve survived, and they fucking walk away.”
“Jesus,” I whispered.
“If anything, it’s taught me never to throw up my hands and assume somebody can’t be saved, and also never to relax until I’m absolutely certain everyone’s out, accounted for, and okay.” He paused. “You just never know. We responded to a call once for a possible gas leak that turned out to be nothing, and not two seconds after we’d given the all-clear, the homeowner dropped dead right in front of us.”
My jaw fell open. “Wait, what?”
“Exactly my reaction.”
“What happened?”
“Massive heart attack. We’re all trained EMTs, and we did everything we could, but . . .” He shook his head.
“Whoa.” I rested my hand on his uninjured leg. “Sounds like every call is a minefield.”
“Every time,” he said with a nod and a distant look. Then he cleared his throat and came back to life. “Anyway, that’s part of being a firefighter. So . . . movie?”
“Yeah, sure. What do you have in mind?”
“Something stupid and hilarious.”
“Like a rom-com?”
Aaron snorted. “Do I look like a masochist to you?”
“Well . . .”
“Shut up.” He rolled his eyes. “I was thinking like Anchorman or Adam Sandler stupid.”
“Oh.” And I’d been worried this might get romantic. Relieved, I said, “I am so on board for that. Have you seen A Million Ways to Die in the West?”
“Not nearly enough times. Want to watch it?”
“Fuck yes.”
He chuckled as he turned on the TV and pulled up his queue of movies. As we searched through the titles, movement from the corner of my eye caught my attention. I turned as a small orange cat slunk into the room from the hallway. “Oh hey, you do have a third cat.”
Aaron looked and chuckled. “About time you decided to be social, Tiger.”
The cat eyed us nervously and tiptoed across the room. Once she was about halfway, she broke into a run and darted into the kitchen. A second later, I heard quiet crunching.
