Origins (The Becoming Book 6)

by Jessica Meigs

  She looked up at him, a wide smile spreading across her pretty face. The sight of it sent a pang of melancholy through him. “I was hoping you’d take the hint and come over here,” she said.

  Gray hadn’t seen April Linder in nearly three years, not since they’d graduated high school and gone their separate ways. They’d dated throughout their entire junior and senior years, and things had started to get serious between them until his parents had died in an accident two months before he graduated. Thinking about that time of his life still made him a little sad. Two years was a lot of time for a teenager to spend with one girl. He returned April’s smile. “You’re looking great. What have you been doing?”

  April tucked her hair behind her ear in a familiar gesture. She scooped up the beer he’d put in front of her and sipped from the bottle. “Not a whole lot. Just moved back home.” She scrunched up her nose, and Gray noticed the freckles speckling her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. “College sucks, by the way. Don’t even bother with it.”

  “I take it things didn’t go well for you in Seattle?”

  “Oh God no.” April grimaced. “I spent the whole time being miserable and getting ridiculed for my accent.”

  “Assholes,” Gray said.

  “Tell me about it.” April took another sip of beer. Gray could feel her eyes running over him during the pause that fell between them, like she was physically running her hands over his skin. “You’re not looking all that bad yourself. Not as skinny as the last time I saw you. More…muscular, I think.”

  Gray gulped from his bottle. “I guess that’s what happens when you haul car parts around all day. Well, that and the occasional visit to the gym.”

  “Still doing body work?”

  “Naw, got laid off from that garage,” he said. “Been working as a regular mechanic for about a year now. Nothing interesting. Helps out with the whole food thing.” He fell silent, turning his bottle in slow circles on the bar. He wasn’t sure what to say to April. It’d been years since he’d seen her, and all her reappearance had done was dredge up old feelings he’d thought were long gone. He felt a stirring of sadness, longing, and even a little guilt mixed together in his gut in an amalgam of emotion that nauseated him. He swallowed hard and gulped more beer.

  “How’s your family?” he asked casually. “Everybody doing okay?”

  “Oh yeah!” April said brightly, seizing on the new topic. She took a deep breath, as if preparing to launch into a spiel, and the action drew Gray’s attention to the collar of her red blouse. The top few buttons were undone, showing cleavage, and he wondered momentarily if she’d dressed up in the skirt and form-fitting shirt with the hopes of finding a stand at the bar that night. The thought of her with another guy bothered the hell out of him.

  “Mom and Dad are doing great,” she said. “Still living in the same old house. I’m staying with them until I find a place of my own.”

  “Yeah?” Gray picked at the edge of his bottle’s label with his fingernail. “No, ah, no boyfriend to stay with or whatever?” he asked, trying to be casual about it. He suspected he’d failed miserably. Thankfully, April didn’t seem to notice.

  “No,” April said, her dark hair swaying, and her cheeks flushed. “No boyfriend. Haven’t had one of those in, hell, two years? Something like that.” She laughed ruefully. “That makes me sound so pathetic.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” Gray said in a rush. He drew in a deep breath to dislodge the nervousness in his throat. “I haven’t dated very much in…well, since high school. Not anything serious, just…you know, flings and shit. Believe me, you’re doing a lot better than I am.”

  April smiled, and his stomach knotted at the sight. Theo hadn’t been kidding when he’d told him once that the first love was always the hardest to get over.

  “So, how are things with you? How are your mom and dad?” She looked suddenly awkward at the mention of his parents, and she nearly knocked her bottle of beer over as she reached for it in her haste to cover the slip-up. “Or, I mean, your brother. How is Theo doing?”

  Gray tried to let the reference to his deceased parents pass without comment, though he still felt a pang in his chest at her words and the thought of them. He pasted on a smile. The last thing he wanted to do was talk about Theo. “Theo’s doing great. He dropped out of police academy though. He became a paramedic instead.”

  “That’s awesome,” April said. “Are you still living with him?”

  “I moved out a few months ago,” Gray said. “Our, ah, our therapist said we needed to get some space from each other because we spend too much time together or some bullshit like that. I don’t remember the word for it. Co-something or other. Anyway, I got a little apartment a couple of miles from here, and he helps with the rent, since I really can’t afford it.”

  April smiled in a way that made him feel embarrassed. She must think I’m a total basket case, he thought. Why did I mention the damned therapist? Fucking pathetic.

  “Do you maybe want to get out of here?” she asked. She leaned closer to him and lowered her voice. “Maybe go hang out someplace more…private? For old times’ sake?”

  Gray downed the rest of his beer and set the bottle heavily on the bar. “Where exactly did you have in mind?”

  Chapter 4

  It was nearly two in the morning when the sound of his phone buzzing against the bedside table woke Theo up from a deep sleep. It vibrated across the wooden table in jolts and starts, and Theo groaned and rolled over, pulling the pillow over his head and trying to ignore the sound. It buzzed its way to the edge of the table before the caller hung up. He breathed a sigh of relief and closed his eyes. He was exhausted and sore, and his bed was too warm and comfortable to even consider getting out of it.

  He shifted and braced his hand against the mattress, rolling over onto his back and flopping his arm across the bed. The other side of the bed was surprisingly empty—surprisingly because that wasn’t how it had been when he’d passed out earlier that evening. He rolled onto the vacated side of the bed to get a look into the master bathroom. He could just make out Dillon standing at the sink in his boxer shorts, brushing his teeth. He caught sight of Theo in the mirror over the sink and grinned around the toothbrush, holding up a finger to indicate for him to wait until he finished up. Once he spat and rinsed, he wiped his mouth on the towel and wandered back into the bedroom, dropping onto the bed beside Theo with a groan.

  “Was that my toothbrush you were using?” Theo asked, suppressing a yawn.

  “Well, yeah,” Dillon replied, as if it should have been obvious. “Not like it matters, though, am I right? We’ve shared more than toothbrushes over the past six months.”

  Theo snorted and pulled the pillow over his head. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I don’t care about the toothbrush,” he said, his voice muffled by the pillow.

  “Your phone’s been ringing while you were asleep,” Dillon said. Theo heard the sound of a lighter striking, and then the scent of smoke and tobacco reached his nose. “I took it off the hook after the last time. You looked like you needed the sleep.”

  “I did,” Theo said, throwing the pillow aside and rubbing at his face. “Any idea who it was?”

  “No clue. I didn’t bother answering to find out,” Dillon said. He stared at Theo for a moment and then, as if seeing the doubt and worry that was beginning to flood his eyes, added, “I’m sure it wasn’t Gray. He’s probably out and about doing his own thing with his own friends.”

  “Kind of like I’m doing my own thing with my own friends?”

  Dillon winked at him and blew out a lungful of smoke in his direction. “I don’t know. I doubt Gray does that with his friends.”

  Theo’s cell phone started buzzing again. He sighed and rolled over, stretching to grab the phone and check the display. “It’s work,” he grumbled. “Fuck, can’t they leave me alone on my day off?”

  “It’s because you’re too good of a paramedic, and they can’t get enough of you,” Dillon sa
id sagely.

  Theo rolled his eyes and answered the phone. “Hello?”

  “Theo, I know you’re off tonight, but we need you to come in,” his boss Doug said over the line without any preamble.

  “Hello to you too, Doug,” Theo replied. He scooted to the edge of the bed and leaned over to grab his pants from the floor. “What if I were to tell you I’m busy and can’t make it in?”

  “That’s the thing. I really need you to come in,” Doug said. “There’s all this shit going on and—”

  “What kind of shit?”

  “A lot of fights and disturbances in town. Traffic’s bad too, so there’s been a lot of accidents on the highway between here and Tupelo. We’re running on empty over here, and none of the crews have had any rest. I need to open up the spare truck and need you and Jonathan to come in and give us a hand until everything settles down.”

  Theo leaned forward to rest his elbow against his thigh and his head against his hand. “Doug, look, I’d love to. I really would. But I’m exhausted myself. They aren’t the only ones running on empty, okay?”

  “I understand, Theo. I do. But I don’t have much of a choice. No one else will come in. You were seriously my last resort.”

  There was silence on the line. Theo closed his eyes, letting out a long, drawn-out sigh.

  “Fine. Just until it quiets down, right?”

  “Right. Not a minute longer.”

  Theo hoped he wasn’t going to regret this. “I’ll be there in about thirty minutes.”

  The moment he hung up, he threw his cell phone across the room. It crashed against the wall with a thunk and dropped to the carpet, unscathed by the impact. “Son of a bitch,” he snarled.

  “You are such a pushover,” Dillon commented from his position reclined against the headboard. Theo looked back at him and made a face. “You totally are! You should have told him no.”

  “I need the money,” Theo replied. He stood and went to his closet, pulling out a clean uniform and starting to get dressed. “Living here is expensive, and I’m not lucky enough to pull government checks to stay home and take care of sick family members.”

  Dillon sobered up at that, finishing his cigarette and putting it out in the ashtray on the table by the bed. “I’m thinking I might have to get him moved into a nursing home,” he said quietly. “It’s starting to get too much for me to handle.”

  Theo paused in the act of fastening his pants and turned to look at Dillon. “Shit, man, why didn’t you tell me you were having trouble?” he asked. “I would have helped.”

  “I know, I just…I don’t want my friendship with you tainted by him.” Dillon sighed. “He’s my dad, okay? I’ve had to put up with him and his alcoholic ass all my life, and you shouldn’t have to deal with him by virtue of being friends with me. I want to keep that aspect of my life completely…” He flailed his hands around, as if searching for a word, “…separate,” he finally settled on.

  Theo abandoned his attempts to get dressed and went to Dillon, wrapping him in a tight hug. “Hey, man, it’s okay. I don’t mind. I handle patients like him all the time, so it’s not—”

  “I don’t want you to handle him,” Dillon insisted. He pulled away and brushed his hair out of his eyes. “Really. I’m fine. I promise.” He turned away and started searching for his shirt. “You should get ready for work, Theo. They need you.”

  Twenty minutes later, Theo arrived at work, still exhausted and still feeling annoyed at being called there in the first place. He headed for the time clock and found Jonathan in the kitchen banging around in the refrigerator, looking just as annoyed as he felt. “I know I left some Cokes in here this morning,” he said, pushing the door shut with more force than necessary. Jars inside the door rattled together as the door banged closed.

  “Somebody probably drank them,” Theo said, swiping his badge to clock in. “Figured you’d have learned by now to not leave stuff in the fridge here. People have a habit of taking shit that isn’t theirs.”

  “Yeah, well, I guess I give people too much credit for honesty sometimes.” He looked Theo up and down. “You look as pissed as me. I bet you had company over, didn’t you?”

  “Maybe,” Theo hedged.

  “Who was she?”

  “I don’t think that’s any of your business.” Theo didn’t bother to correct the incorrect pronoun.

  “I’m aware,” Jonathan said. “I just know how it is to get hauled off what you want to do and get dragged kicking and screaming into work. Did Doug play the whole guilt trip game on you too?”

  “Doesn’t he always?”

  The phone rang then, the shrill chime echoing in the high-ceilinged room. Theo groaned and cut a dirty look toward the phone. “Can you get that? I hate talking on those damn things.”

  Jonathan grabbed the phone. After a murmured conversation, he hung up, looking grim. “One patient MVA at Highway 6 and Hillcrest. Guy’s got injuries and appears to have altered mental status with violent tendencies. Law enforcement is on the scene now.”

  “Figures,” Theo said. “Didn’t even get a chance to sit down for a minute.” He grabbed his bag and headed for the front door, Jonathan right ahead of him. As Theo hauled himself into the passenger seat, the ambulance’s engine rumbled to life. The chatter on the radio was full of static and ten-codes, and he had to close his eyes and focus past it to mentally go over everything he’d likely need to do at the scene. Then the ambulance’s sirens started up, chasing any other thoughts from his mind. A surge of adrenaline rocked through his veins as the truck roared out into the street and headed for the site of the accident.

  Despite his gripes about the constant call-ins, the nights of getting dragged out of bed for silly reasons, the sometimes crappy coworkers and the low pay, Theo wouldn’t have traded his job for anything in the world. He loved helping people, saving lives, being there for others in some of their most difficult moments. He rarely got nervous or felt that he was in over his head on calls, which was why he felt it strange that his stomach stirred with butterflies right now.

  Jonathan pulled the ambulance to a stop at the side of the road at the accident site, parking it in front of a police car, and let out a low whistle. “Jesus, that looks bad,” he said as they took in the sight of the wrecked car. Theo snagged a pair of gloves from the box between the seats, stuffed a few extra pairs into his pant pocket, and opened his door.

  “Looks like a rollover,” he said. “Let’s go see what we can do.” After he dropped to the pavement, he called to Jonathan, “Go ahead and grab the stretcher, backboard, and collar. Duct tape, too. We’re probably going to need them.” He opened the side door and grabbed the trauma bag, shouldered it, and made his way down the embankment to the wrecked car below.

  The car had been through what was clearly a terrible accident. Every side of the car was banged up, scratched, dented, and caved in, like a giant fist had reached down and gripped the car tightly. All of the windows were shattered, and as he drew closer, he noticed that the airbags had deployed. An officer headed in his direction, sporting a mark on his face where he appeared to have been punched. Theo suppressed a wince of sympathy at the sight.

  “You okay, man?” he asked the officer, whose name badge said “Greenlee.” “You look wiped.”

  “Feel it too,” Greenlee said. “Careful with this one. He’s out of his mind. We showed up, and he attacked us. We restrained him, but you’ll need a set of Poseys for this one.”

  “Thanks for the tip,” Theo said. After calling to Jonathan to add restraints to the supplies he’d requested, he hurried past the first responders to get to his patient. What he saw made his stomach lurch.

  There’s no way this man should be alive, was the first thought that flitted through his mind.

  Of the dozens of car accidents he’d worked in the three years since he’d become a paramedic, the only patients Theo had seen in such a condition were dead patients. Both of the man’s legs were broken, compound fractures with open wou
nds through which he could see bones. The man’s left arm was deformed, and congealed blood adorned the side of his head. Gaping wounds on the man’s biceps and shoulders exposed the underlying muscle and tendons. Despite his injuries, the man was oddly alert, his eyes following Theo’s every movement.

  What caught most of Theo’s attention was the look on the man’s face. It was…animalistic. It was a hard look, a feral one. He could honestly say that he’d never seen a look like it, not even on the faces of the most violent of drug addicts he’d picked up. He swallowed hard, steeling himself for the upcoming confrontation, and pasted a smile on his face.

  “Hey, my name is Theo,” he said to the patient. The man didn’t respond; he merely snapped his teeth at him like a cornered dog. He noticed that someone had cuffed the man’s hands to the crumpled steering wheel and that all those present were keeping their distance.

  The nearest first responder approached then, putting his hand on Theo’s shoulder. Theo recognized the man as Chuck Howitz from the fire and rescue service. “Watch this guy,” he warned. “He’s acting like a total nut job. He tried to bite Stevens and Brigham.”

  “Bite?” Theo repeated. Considering the rabid look in the patient’s eyes, he didn’t doubt Chuck’s statement.

  “We’re thinking head injury in the crash,” Chuck concluded. “Star pattern on the windshield. Possible chest injuries too, judging by that bent steering wheel. No idea how he got the ones on his arms, though. It’s not like anything I’ve seen outside of, I don’t know, a wild-animal attack.”

  Theo looked around. “Was there another car?”

  “Near ‘bout as I can tell, guy drove himself off the road,” Chuck replied. He clapped Theo on the shoulder as Jonathan approached with the supplies. “Good luck, man. Let me know if you guys need any help.”

  Theo snorted. “I don’t know where you think you’re going,” he said. He yanked the car’s back door open and crawled inside. “You know we’ll need the help.” He nodded to Jonathan and started giving orders. “I want full spinal packaging. We’ll splint the arm and legs once we’ve got him free of the car and loaded into the back of the truck.”