Theo stood to help Gray wipe the table down. “It keeps roofs over our heads, so I do what I have to do.”
“Yeah, I know, and thank you for that,” Gray said. “God knows I don’t pull in enough here to do much other than keep me in groceries and maybe pay my cell phone bill.”
“How’s the apartment working out for you?” Theo asked. “Is everything still okay there?”
“Yeah, it’s fine,” Gray assured him with a sheepish smile. “I don’t know. It’s okay. It’s just…not home, you know?”
“I know.” Theo sighed. “I’m sorry about all of this. I’ve been arguing the case with Dr. Taylor every time I see him, but he’s not budging. I don’t know what to do next.”
Gray glanced at the clock above the door. The second hand ticked inexorably toward the twelve. He sighed and headed for the trashcan, jamming the bag into it. “As stimulating as this depressing conversation is, I have to get back to work. I’ve still got three hours to finish this car and get chewed out by the boss for only getting two cars done today.”
“Yeah, I’ve got to get to work myself soon,” Theo said.
Gray headed out the door and back into the service bays, Theo right behind him. Before he went to his car, Theo stopped him. “Hey, be careful going home this evening, okay? Seems like we’re working a lot of accidents over the past couple of days, and there are rumors of some scary shit going on over in Alabama and Georgia. I don’t want to have to come scrape you off the highway.”
Gray smiled tightly. While he was touched that Theo was concerned enough to say something, his brother’s overprotectiveness had become almost unbearable over the past few months.
Maybe I’m just getting used to staying by myself, he thought.
He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. “I’ll be fine, Theo,” he promised. “It’s not like I drive like a bat out of Hell. And besides, I take that route home five days a week. It’s nothing new.”
“I know, I know,” Theo said. “Can’t blame me for tossing that out there anyway, right?” He patted Gray on the back. “See you later, man.” He started to walk toward his car, but he didn’t make it more than a few steps before he turned and said, “Oh! Big Daddy at the base said he’d really appreciate it if you’d come by when you have time and take a look at one of the ambulances. It’s making that knocking noise again, and we’re down a truck because of it.”
Gray stifled a laugh at Theo’s nickname for the supervisor on his EMS base and waved a hand at him. “Tell Doug I’ll see what I can do. I’ll give him a call in the morning to make arrangements.” He shook his head. “I don’t know why I let myself get roped into constantly fixing those junkers for you guys.”
“Because you’re just that damn good, Gray,” Theo said. “And admit it. You’re a total sucker for a big engine.” Theo retreated to his car, slid in, and shut the door with a thud. Gray was still laughing when his brother pulled out of the lot.
Chapter 2
Whenever Theo had to work pick-up shifts like the one he’d agreed to fill in for that evening, he always found himself praying for a quiet time of it. But it was Saturday, and teenagers in Plantersville had little to do besides throw drunken parties and cause problems for the police and EMS crews in the area. Considering the rumors already circulating about a party to be held at one of the houses on the outskirts of town, he had no doubt it would prove to be a very busy shift.
Theo found his driver, Jonathan Kramer, already sitting sideways on the passenger seat of their truck when he arrived at the base a few minutes before the start of his shift. He dropped his bag off into the room in which he’d spend his downtime, punched in, then joined Jonathan outside.
“Hey, Carter, how’s it going?” Jonathan greeted him.
Theo shrugged and ran a hand through his dirty blond hair. “It’s going. How was drill last weekend?”
“It was okay,” Jonathan replied. “The usual. Sarge was a total dick. Nothing strange about that, though.” He thrust a sheet of paper toward Theo. “New marching orders from the boss man. Some supplies have been disappearing from a few of the trucks, and he doesn’t think they’re being logged into the computer properly. He wants us to inventory everything on paper at the beginning and end of every shift, in addition to accounting for supplies on the run reports.”
Theo took the paper and scanned it over. It was a chart listing everything the state of Mississippi required to be on the ambulance, including the quantities, with a space to write in the number actually in the truck’s interior and exterior cabinets, in the trauma bags, and in the EKG monitor’s bags. “Well, that’s all fine and dandy, but this all looks like extra work just for me.”
“Oh, I’ve got my own.” Jonathan held up a sheet with a shorter list. “Crawling in the fucking dirt, checking the psi on the tires. This is ridiculous.”
“Watch your language,” Theo said absently. He felt silly saying that to a man who was over ten years older than he. He looked the list over one more time, then pulled the ambulance’s side door open and hauled himself inside. He was greeted by the sight of dirty gloves, used nasal cannulas and nonrebreather masks, and plastic packaging littering the floor. Soiled linens were piled on the bench by the back doors, and the garbage can attached to the side of the bench was overflowing with everything from used supplies to takeout fast-food bags.
“Fucking hell!” Theo exploded. “What the fucking fuck is this?”
“And you told me to watch my language,” Jonathan joked. “Needless to say, I wasn’t pleased to walk into this a few minutes ago. I figured you were going to hit the ceiling.”
“Who the hell left it like this?” Theo asked, already freeing his cell phone from his pants pocket to take pictures of the mess for his supervisor’s perusal later.
“Probably the same douchebags who ran out of here the minute we showed up so they’d be gone by the time we found it like this.” Jonathan dropped out of the passenger seat and stretched, stepping into view of the side door. “Need a hand? I’m not averse to actually helping around here. Unlike some people.” He cast a glance toward a four-door coupe that flew out of the base’s short driveway. Theo recognized one of the aforementioned douchebag coworkers behind the wheel. He snorted and turned his gaze back to the mess before them.
“Get the stretcher out of the way and grab the broom from the backboard cabinet. I’m going to attempt to do inventory while I clean.” Theo sniffed the air, his head tilted back like he was a hunting dog scenting for prey. He wrinkled his nose. “It smells like stale fries and piss in here. You smell that, or is it just me?”
Jonathan snapped on a blue glove and circled to the ambulance’s back doors, flinging them open. He picked something up from the floor of the ambulance. He held up a used urinal. “Found your culprit.” He frowned at it and at the ambulance’s floor, which was on level with his waist. “Looks like it’s leaking too.”
“So not only did they leave us with garbage everywhere, but they left us with a biohazard to take care of too?” To say Theo was thoroughly disgusted was an understatement. He forced himself to stop grinding his teeth and slid open one of the cabinets, pulling out a red plastic bag. “Drop it in here and tie it off. I’ll chuck it later.”
It took Theo and Jonathan nearly two hours to scrub out and sanitize the interior of the ambulance, replace the supplies that had been used, and inventory everything in the cabinets. By the time they had finished, Theo could feel a headache niggling at the base of his head. He massaged his temples and heaved a weary sigh before dropping into the airway seat with all the grace of a hippopotamus. “Aw hell, we’ve still got to wash the outside, don’t we?” he grumbled. “Please tell me it looks like rain so we don’t have to today.”
Jonathan cast his eyes toward the sky and shook his head. “Nope, sorry. Crystal-clear evening sky.” He smiled. “You know, if you don’t want to wash it, I certainly won’t say anything to anyone if it doesn’t get done. We could probably hold off until closer to th
e end of your shift.”
“Hey, Jonathan!” a voice called from beyond the truck. It was a familiar one, and Theo sat up straighter in anticipation as the voice grew louder on the owner’s approach, and his heart fluttered nervously. Jonathan leaned around the side of the truck to get a look at the newcomer.
“I hear that Theo’s supposed to be on shift tonight. Is he here yet?”
Theo shoved himself out of the airway seat, nearly tripping over the trauma bag by the side door in his haste to get out of the truck. He stuck his head out the door, spotting Dillon Roberts standing beside the truck, his brown hair glossy in the light from the setting sun and a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth.
“He’s right here,” Theo said, clambering down from his perch inside the ambulance and dropping to the gravel-strewn pavement. Dillon gave him a wide-mouthed grin that showed too many of his perfectly straight white teeth and stepped forward, giving Theo a one-armed hug, holding his cigarette out with the other so he wouldn’t accidentally burn him. Theo returned the embrace with the same enthusiasm.
“Theo! It feels like it’s been ages since I’ve seen you!” Dillon said once he’d stepped back.
“It’s been less than a week, Dill,” Theo said, grinning. “How was your trip?”
Theo had met Dillon a mere six months prior when, newly arrived from Florida, he had crossed the street from his house to the ambulance base and introduced himself to Theo while Theo was washing the ambulance. Since then, they had become close—too close, some might have said, for it to be considered a simple friendship. Theo didn’t care what other people thought. Dillon had been there for him during the rough patches of the last six months, including the uproar that had ensued when his and Gray’s therapist had diagnosed them with codependency and ordered them to get separate living quarters to help quell that problem.
Dillon took a drag off his cigarette, turning his head to blow the smoke away from Theo. “Trip would have been more fun if you’d taken that week off and come along like I asked you to.”
“I couldn’t leave,” Theo said. “You know I had to stay here in case Gray needed me.”
“Gray’s twenty-one,” Dillon pointed out, not unkindly. “I think he would have been fine on his own. He’s living on his own, right?”
“Not totally,” Theo admitted. “I’m still paying his rent and everything. It’s stretching me fucking thin.”
“Why don’t you talk to him about it, see if he’ll think about getting a second job to help out with that?” Dillon asked. He leaned against the side of the ambulance, and Theo joined him, folding his arms over his chest. “You can only do so much, Theo, and you’re already stressed out. You need a break.” He offered his cigarette to Theo, who took it, taking a deep drag. “That’s why I wanted you to go to Biloxi with me. We both need to get away for a while.” He cut his eyes toward the house across the street, and Theo followed his gaze.
“Are you still having problems with…?” Theo trailed off and looked at Dillon.
“You have no idea,” Dillon said. “I’m so tired of everything lately.” He sighed. “Let’s talk about better things. You busy tomorrow night? I was thinking maybe we could go out somewhere, get some drinks and hang out.”
Theo hesitated, glancing toward the ambulance base, trying to think of a gentle way to phrase it. “I…I can’t,” he said. “I’ve already got plans with Gray. We’re supposed to go bar-hopping tomorrow night.”
The look of disappointment on Dillon’s face was obvious. “Oh, come on, Theo. He’s got his own friends he can go out with. You see him all the time.”
Theo sighed. “I know, but—”
“Don’t you want to prove Dr. Taylor wrong?” Dillon asked, his voice gentle. “Come on. Go out with me. What’ll it hurt? You and Gray can make plans for some other time.”
Theo sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, okay, fine. I think I can reschedule with Gray. He won’t be happy about it, though. You know how he feels about you.”
“Yeah, he can’t stand me,” Dillon said. “Not that I care. He can think whatever he wants about me. No skin off my teeth.” He took one last drag from his cigarette before dropping it on the pavement and grinding it out with his tennis shoe. “Want to go to breakfast in the morning after you get off work?” he offered. “Or you can come over and I’ll cook. I always make too much anyway.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Theo agreed. “I’ll even help with the cooking.”
A burst of static came from the radio in the cab, followed by a loud tone that set Theo’s teeth on edge.
“Sounds like you’re about to get a call, so I’ll get on out of here,” Dillon said, patting Theo on the shoulder as the dispatcher started rattling off the address. “Give me a shout when you’re freed up in the morning so I know when you’re coming over.”
“Will do,” Theo agreed. Dillon embraced him briefly, then retreated toward the house across the street.
Jonathan exited the base waving a notepad in Theo’s direction. “We’ve got a call!” he shouted, making a beeline toward the driver’s door. “Chest pain.”
Theo glanced back at Dillon’s retreating form and nodded, hauling himself into the truck. “Well then, let’s rock and roll.”
Chapter 3
The crack of pool balls drowned out the country music being piped in through speakers strategically hidden around the bar. Gray paid the sound no mind, his eyes following the yellow ball Jack Abernathy had struck. It rolled into the pocket for which Jack had aimed. Gray shook his head, taking a deep swallow from his beer. Jack tilted his head to look at him and give him his familiar shit-eating grin.
“Carter, you are going to owe me some serious money when I’m done with you,” Jack taunted.
Gray tugged a pack of cigarettes from the back pocket of his jeans. He pulled one free and lit it up. “I said I liked playing. I never said I was good at it. Besides, you’re probably going to give the cash back anyway, like you do pretty much every time we play.” He propped the end of his pool cue on the floor and leaned on it, dragging on his cigarette and watching Jack take entirely too long to line up his next shot. “You going to take that shot anytime soon, or are you too busy waggling your ass for the ladies at the bar?”
Jack tapped the cue ball. The green ball for which he’d aimed bounced off the table’s side, rolling to a stop in the center of the table.
Gray heaved a sigh of relief and ashed his cigarette into the tray on the edge of the table, then lifted his stick from the floor. “‘Bout damned time.”
Jack leaned against the edge of the table, and Gray began to circle it, trying to choose his best line of attack. “I don’t think you’ve noticed, G,” he said, “but I’m not the one the ladies at the bar are staring at. That hot brunette near the end has been watching you the entire time we’ve been in here.”
Gray stretched over the table to line up his shot, resting the pool cue against his hand, and cut his eyes upward in the direction Jack mentioned. He huffed out another impatient breath. “Come on, man, there’s like three of them down there,” he said casually, though a jolt of recognition wormed its way down his spine when his eyes met those of the girl in question. He stuck his cigarette between his lips and exhaled a puff of smoke around it, feigning casualness, before taking his shot and missing miserably. It was an easy shot, and Gray could only account his failure to make it as a bad case of sudden nerves brought on by the eyes that, even now, he could have sworn he felt on his back.
“The one in the skirt and red top,” Jack replied. He passed behind Gray to get to the other side of the table, slapping him on the back in the process. Gray flinched and sidestepped away from him, gripping the pool cue tighter, barely containing the urge to smack Jack with it. “You should go talk to her, see if you can get laid,” Jack suggested. “Then maybe you’ll quit being so damned cranky all the time.”
Gray cocked his hip against the edge of the table. He took his cigarette out of his mouth a
nd snagged his beer bottle from beside the ashtray. “Do I look that desperate?” He drank a deep swig of beer. “At least let me wait until after the game is over before you start trying to hook me up with random bar chicks.”
Jack snorted. “Hell yeah, I’ve got to hook you up! God knows you can’t get the pretty girls on your own,” he joked.
“If we weren’t in the bar right now, I’d so kick your ass,” Gray said. He jabbed his cigarette out in the ashtray with more ferocity than necessary and finished off his beer.
“But you can’t, because then Smitty would call the cops and your brother would want to know why you were in the Brass Monkey in the first place when you should’ve been at home and why he was bailing you out of jail. He’d probably get all paternal on you, and I’d never get to hang out with you again.” Jack sank another ball. “What’s with him? He acts like you’re twelve or something.”
Gray grabbed his empty bottle, setting his pool cue on the edge of the table. “I don’t want to talk about my brother.” Especially since he’d have my head if he knew I was here without him, he added mentally. “It’s his fault I’m here with you anyway, since he cancelled on me. And don’t talk about him that way. It’s between him and me.” He nodded toward the bar. “I’m going to get another drink.”
Circling the table, Gray tossed his empty bottle into the trashcan and headed to the bar. He stopped a few feet away from the girl Jack had pointed out, the girl who’d been staring at him. The girl who’d given him such a rush of feeling the second he’d laid eyes on her that he’d felt the compulsion to sit down in a daze. He flagged down the bartender, the esteemed Smitty himself. “Can I get another beer, please?” He glanced at the girl out of the corner of his eye. “Make that two beers.” Once he had the two chilled bottles in his hand, he slid onto the stool beside the girl, cracked the top off one of the bottles, and set it gently on the counter in front of her. “Hey, April. Long time no see.”
Origins (The Becoming Book 6) Page 12