Burn Me Anthology

by Shantel Tessier

  “Hi, Bryn. Guess we’re going to be working together.” I supposed we should have considered this possibility, but it hadn’t crossed my mind, and it seemed it hadn’t crossed hers either.

  Well, this got weird fast.

  Bryn grabbed my hand, marching me right out the doors I’d just come through.

  “For the love of all things holy, tell me this is a joke,” she seethed as she planted her hands on her hips.

  I shrugged. “Not a joke, love. You were the one that didn’t want to talk about work last night.”

  She ran her fingers through her hair. “Do not blame me for this.”

  I leaned against the stair’s railing, sighing, “You’re right, neither of us thought about this being a possibility when clearly we should have.”

  “This is so bad. What the fuck are we going to do? I do not sleep with the guys here. Self-preservation thing, ya know.” Bryn was talking a mile a minute. “I have to make sure that they never think of me as a chick or a piece of meat. It took me a long time to gain the respect of all those twat waffles in there.”

  I put my hands on her shoulders as she huffed. “Look, this can stay just between us. No one will ever find out that we slept together. We can be friends if you want, which would be my choice. We have to be coworkers, first and foremost though. I will protect you and your reputation. Let’s not let this be weird. It doesn’t have to be.”

  “How can it not be weird?” She threw her hands in the air. “Just hours ago, I was riding your face.”

  I couldn’t help the smirk that played on my lips as I thought about her waking me up at four in the morning for a quickie that turned into a very adventurous encounter. “It was fun, but I can be a gentleman and refrain from sexual advances if that is what you think would be for the best.”

  “I guess it’s worth fucking trying.”

  “Now, let’s go back inside before anyone suspects anything.”

  Spinning on the heels of her boots, Bryn whipped around, putting her hand right in the middle of my chest. “How are you so calm? How is this so easy for you?”

  I stooped down to whisper in her ear, “If you think just being friends with you is going to be easy, you’re fucking crazy, but at the end of the day, it’s the right thing to do, and eventually one man is going to have to prove to you that not all men are the same. I will respect you as my colleague and friend too much to fuck it up with lust.”

  “Will? You don’t already?” she teased, gripping the door handle to head back inside the firehouse.

  I shook my head. “Little girl, don’t play semantics with me. I’ve only known you for about twelve hours.”

  Chapter 5

  Bryn

  “Who’s the new guy, Malloye?” Camden asked as Mitch walked past us and to the chief.

  “Randomly met him at the tattoo shop last night, and apparently he’s going to be working here.” I shrugged it off, bee-lining for the coffee pot. I needed all the coffee I could possibly get if I was going to make it through my entire shift.

  “Interesting.” Camden had his gym bag slung over his shoulder.

  “Cardio day?” I asked, more teasing than anything.

  Cam’s chest puffed up a bit. “Arms and back. Cardio is for pussies.”

  We both laughed as Camden started to walk away to change. “Catch ya later, Malloye.”

  Even though it was typical for all of us to call each other by our last names, ever since Camden and I had moved in together, it was weird when he called me Malloye.

  The nectar of the gods filled my Tervis as the steam wafted the earthy scent through the firehouse’s kitchen.

  “Malloye, just the person I was looking for.” Chief Hoover came walking in, Mitch following closely behind him. “This is Mitchell Katz, mind showing him around for a bit? He’s starting on B shift tomorrow, bright and early.”

  “Not a problem, sir.” I put the bright green lid on the tumbler and smiled at Mitch as the chief left us be.

  “Bryn Malloye?” Mitch chuckled to himself as he said my name.

  “What’s it to you?” I playfully shoved his shoulder a bit.

  “That is the most Irish name I have ever heard in my entire life, and in the middle of Missouri, it was just not what I was expecting.”

  After showing Mitch all over—from the gym to the bathrooms and apparatus bay—it was time to introduce him to all the guys on my shift. My heart was pounding, my palms were clammy—I was a complete wreck.

  He’s just a guy.

  He’s just your friend.

  Forget about his perfect ass and gorgeous penis.

  I made myself blush as Mitch followed me to the day room where everyone was gathered around for lunch. I cleared my throat. All eyes were on me as their mindless chitchat halted.

  “This is Mitch. He’s new, all the way from Florida,” I stammered.

  Mitch waved like a goof and we took seats after grabbing bowls of chili and cornbread. “Take it, it’s Connor’s day to cook,” I pestered, winking at the redheaded lieutenant at the head of the table. In all fairness, it was usually Connor’s day to cook since before finding his true calling and joining the fire academy, Fredrick Connor had gone to culinary school. He was the best damn cook I had ever met in my life, and I loved that we worked A shift together.

  After making quick introductions, Mitch dove right into the hot seat with the guys all asking him tons of stuff, from personal to professional shit and everything in between.

  With chili still rolling around in Camden’s mouth, he leaned over and asked, “What’s the most fucked up thing that has happened to you on a call to date?”

  Mitch chuckled a little, leaning back in his chair. He tapped his finger to his mouth. “Hmmmm, fucked up as in gross or as in mind-blowing crazy?”

  “Either? Both? You pick,” Cam answered with a little shoulder shrug.

  I darted my gaze directly at my jerk of a roommate to shoot laser beams at him with my eyes. “What the fuck, Nash?” I immediately jumped into defensive mode, looking at Mitch. “You do not need to answer that.”

  “No, it really is fine. I got a good one actually.” Mitch rubbed the back of his neck while flashing his panty-dropping smile. It is going to be so damn hard to just be his friend, I just fucking know it. Thank God he’s on a different shift than I am.

  “When I was an EMT, I responded to a call where a hobo was hit by a train.” Mitch was holding his stomach and laughing so hard, tears were forming in the corners of his eyes just from starting the story. He sucked in a deep breath before continuing. “He was fucking scattered over the freaking tracks for at least two miles, probably more. It was gory in a way, but so spread out, it was weird as hell. More unbelievable and unrecognizable than anything else. As I was walking along, I came across what looked like a tattered black shirt filled full of remains. When I asked for a hand, the evil bastards I worked with gave me the guy’s dismembered arm from the elbow down, the hand flopping around at the wrist like a limp noodle.”

  “Holy shit, that is crazy as hell!” Camden’s jaw was hanging open.

  “I’m sure a lot of you have stories that could even beat that.” Mitch leaned back in his chair and listened as all of the guys from my shift started in on a pissing contest to see who had to most disgusting, craziest, worst call stories imaginable.

  After hearing countless accounts that mde my stomach do flip-flops, we all finally finished our meal, and I started to stand up.

  “I should probably get out of here. I have a lot of stuff to take care of before my shift tomorrow. See you bright and early?” Mitch asked, standing a little closer than necessary to my side.

  “Seven in the morning comes quick, Katz. See you then.” His last name was strange on my lips, but it was the norm and I needed to act like he was just another coworker.

  Chapter 6

  Mitch

  It was weird leaving the firehouse in the middle of the day. After saying goodbye to all the guys I had met, I Ubered my way bac
k to my apartment to order a pizza and binge-watch Supernatural for the rest of the night.

  I didn’t want to be thinking about Cali, but I was.

  I didn’t want to text Bryn, but I did.

  I didn’t want to be nervous about my first day at a new station, but I sure as shit was.

  I had never expected to miss my old firehouse like I did, but it wasn’t just that. I missed my dad, Walker, and Mags. I missed my old life, my house, my girl. Adjusting wasn’t going to be easy, but it was going to happen and the move was for the best—I just had to keep reminding myself of that fact.

  After my large pepperoni pie was delivered, I sank down into my bed and flicked the TV on. Right as I was about to take the first bite of the greasy goodness folded in my hand, my phone started vibrating on the comforter next to me.

  “Cali?” I answered.

  She was sniffling into the phone. “Hey, Mitch. I’m surprised you answered. I was prepared to leave a voicemail.”

  “I can hang up and you can call back to leave one.” I was kicking myself for answering in the first place; I knew better.

  “I just was thinking about you and wanted to say hi. That’s really it,” she muttered before sighing.

  “Cali, you did the right thing. You’re happy, right?” I asked, putting my food back down onto the cardboard box.

  “Yeah, I guess…but I still miss you.”

  I rolled my eyes; I hated when she did shit like that. “Look, Cali, you don’t like change, but this was your choice and you are with the guy you wanted to be with, traveling around on the road with a famous rock band. It’s a dream come true for most chicks. Mind you, most of them do it at nineteen, not thirty, but fuck it. Just live your life and lose my number in the process.”

  “What?” Her shocked tone matched how taken aback I was that I’d just spit those words out.

  “You heard me, Cali. You need to stop calling me like this. I need to move on and so do you.” With that I hung up and blocked her number.

  My hands were shaking as I stared down at my phone. I did it. I’d finally stood up to her. I felt sick, but liberated. It was the right thing to do. It needed to happen. It felt so wrong.

  There was no coming back from hanging up on her like that, but there was also no coming back from how badly she had fucking trampled my heart. Fair is fair. She’d made her bed, and I was going to have to make her lie in it, one way or another.

  Triumphant, with a side of queasy, I ate more than half of the pie and watched four episodes of Sam and Dean kicking ass and cutting the heads off of vampires before I called it a night.

  ***

  My alarm blared at five-thirty and I groaned as I threw one of my pillows across the room. Having a couple of weeks off had completely spoiled me, and having to wake up so early was going to take some getting used to.

  Reluctantly, I got out of bed, stretched for a few minutes, then slogged into my closet-sized bathroom. A cold shower did the trick of waking me up, even though every damn second was more miserable than the last.

  After brushing my teeth, getting dressed, and scarfing down a cold piece of leftover pizza, I was out the door.

  Getting to the station thirty minutes early was the norm for me, but I was fucking nervous as all hell to walk through the front doors. I was an old dog; it had been just about ten years since I graduated from the academy. Time fucking flies, and being the new kid on the block was something I hadn’t experienced since I was a rookie.

  One deep breath. Here goes nothing.

  “Hey, you must be Mitch Katz.” I was greeted by a warm smile from a weathered-looking guy. Judging by his graying hair and laugh lines, he was probably one of the older guys at the station.

  “I am, and you are?” I asked, grabbing his outstretched hand.

  “Lieutenant Dave Goff. Chief Hoover told me to keep an eye out for you. I’m about to start going over trucks and checking to make sure all the necessary equipment is working. Care to join?”

  “These are helping hands, Lieutenant, and I am the newbie around here, so point me in any direction and I’m basically your bitch.” I chuckled a bit.

  “I like the sound of that, Katz.” A sweet voice snickered behind me.

  “Don’t get too used to it, punk. I’m not on your shift.” I turned to see Bryn toweling off her dripping blonde locks as she made her way of out the bathroom. “Long night, Malloye?” I asked, trying to not get captivated by the sweet mint of her conditioner or how adorable she was even without makeup on.

  “I’m beat. We stretched three times from ten last night to three this morning,” she responded before walking past us to grab her things. “See you guys later, I’m going home and crashing hard.”

  The day rolled by relatively uneventfully. All the men I was on shift with seemed nice enough. They didn’t give me too much shit for being new, and that was really all I could ask for.

  Once Lieutenant Goff and I checked the trucks and got my gear all set up, we had breakfast with everyone. I did get stuck cleaning the bathrooms and doing the dishes, but I halfway volunteered to do it. It was the only way I could think of to show everyone how much of a team player I really wanted to be.

  I was in the middle of my second set of squats in the empty gym when the horn blew. I threw the bar up onto the rack and rushed to the locker to get my gear on.

  “Nice hustle,” Goff called to me while I was grabbing my helmet and jumping onto the engine.

  “First call, gotta show y’all what I got.” I huffed as I felt my lips pull at the corners. I was fucking excited to see a little bit of action already.

  The scene we rolled up to was a nightmare. The sun was setting, giving a golden glow to a motorcyclist lying trapped under his crotch rocket. The blood trail that was smeared on the pavement showed the couple hundred feet he’d skidded after being hit by a Dodge Dakota that was off on the shoulder, smashed into a cement barrier and smoking, the driver slumped over the steering wheel.

  It wasn’t the most gruesome sight I had ever seen, but it was one heck of a first call with a new crew. I went into autopilot, trying to get the feel of how all of the guys worked together.

  Rushing over to the guy pinned under his bike, I started to assess the situation. He screamed and squirmed.

  “Sir, stay still. Let me get a good look at this.” I put my hand on his shoulder gently as his pleading eyes locked with mine.

  “Help!” he screamed. “I can’t move.”

  The handlebars of his Yamaha were twisted, with one of them impaling his right flank. Ouch. The EMTs rushed over to us and I explained to them what I had figured out in the few seconds I had been with the man.

  As they peeled him off the pavement and got the bike up off of him, he must have gone into shock. As I was helping stretch a pipe out to the smoking truck, I saw one of the weirdest sights of my life: the motorcycle guy was talking to the paramedics while continually putting his fingers into his open wound in his side. I fought back the bile that threatened to come up as I watched in horror for a few seconds.

  Once the driver of the truck and the biker were off in buses, we got the truck’s engine fire under control. It was a fairly quick and smooth endeavor, which I was pretty proud of.

  “Not something you see every day,” the lieutenant remarked as he stepped out of the driver’s seat after we pulled back up to the firehouse.

  “That image of that poor guy fingering his wound like that is something I won’t forget for a long time.” I shook my head as I started to take all my gear off.

  We washed the truck, made sure everything was back where it needed to be, ate a quick dinner of baked chicken and rice, and then made our way to the dorm to get a little bit of sleep. Even though it was only nine at night, it was better to get some sleep while we could just in case we had a busy night like the other team had the evening before.

  I woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, startled and hyperventilating. Most people dream about fucked-up shit they see on t
he job—dead kids, mangled bodies, terrible shit. Me? Nope. My recurring nightmare was of the day Cali left me. It assaulted me over and over, fucking with me almost every damn night. I’d been waking up at two-thirty in the morning like clockwork realizing that Cali was not in the bed next to me and never would be again.

  For the next hour, I tossed and turned in the twin-sized bed. It was rock hard, and so was the pillow. Usually, that wouldn’t bother me, but after the weird-ass scene we had been on and the dream about Cali, I was cranky.

  Once five A.M. rolled around, I decided to just get up and forget about trying to sleep any more. I made a fresh pot of coffee and turned on the TV in the day room, landing on a Dr. Phil rerun.

  He was lecturing a parent about being an absentee mother, basically roasting her for her daughter being a drug addict. There was something about his accent mixed with how passionate he got about being a jerk to this poor woman who was bawling her eyes out that made me laugh more than it probably should have.

  The daughter was a cute petite blonde with tattoos all over her arms. As soon as the camera panned to her, Bryn popped into my mind. The visual of her pressed against my wall was all I could think about.

  I pulled out my cell and without really thinking about it, I typed out a text.

  Me: How’s the arm feeling?

  It was six in the morning. I expected the message to go unanswered for hours, but my phone lit up within seconds.

  Bryn: A little sore but nothing too bad. How was your first shift?

  Me: Good to hear. Nothing too crazy, just drinking coffee waiting for seven to roll around so I can crawl into my own bed.

  Bryn: Yeah, your bed is way better than the ones at the station house.

  Me: I wouldn’t mind company.

  I shouldn’t have offered, but it was true, and I could not get the image of her out of my head. She was the first chick who had made my dick even twitch since Cali, and I wasn’t going to be able to completely give up that easily.

  Bryn: I thought we were just friends.