Oxygen Deprived (Kilgore Fire Book 3)

by Lani Lynn Vale

  ***

  I had some nipple clamps in my hand, taking a picture of them with my phone, when my doorbell rang.

  Dropping all of my goodies onto the coffee table, I stood up and hurried to the door.

  I guess I expected about a million possibilities, but not a single one of them was Drew’s ex-wife and his daughter.

  “I guess since he’s spending so much time with you lately that this is as good of a place as any,” Drew’s ex said sourly, dropping a very packed bag onto the ground between her feet and mine. “But this shit is no longer mine to deal with. Not after what she just told me. Have a nice life, Attie.”

  Then, without another word, she left and didn’t look back, taking the brand new truck Drew gave to Attie with her.

  “Ummm,” I said slowly. “Do you want to come in?”

  Attie burst out crying, throwing herself at me.

  “He’s going to kill me!”

  An hour later I was sitting on the couch, looking across the room at Attie.

  She was asleep on the love seat that was catty corner to the couch I was sitting on.

  A big, blue afghan covered her lower half, and her arms were curled around a throw pillow that was hugged tightly to her body.

  Every few seconds a little hiccough slipped past her lips, and I was officially not in a good place.

  The click of my front door sounded, causing me to look up at the beautiful man coming into the room, a large smile overtaking his face the moment he saw me.

  Just when he was about to say something, though, I held up my hand and pointed at the love seat.

  His brows lowered in confusion, and I sighed, knowing I might as well get it over with.

  Getting up and starting toward him without another word, I prayed Attie would stay sleeping and not interrupt until I told him everything that had happened.

  Gesturing for him to back outside, I followed him out and closed the door firmly behind us.

  Hopefully, if he heard it from me, he’d get all the yelling out before he got to Attie.

  “What’s going on?” He asked.

  I licked my lips nervously, my finger going to my teeth out of pure uneasiness.

  “Drew,” I said. “Everyone’s alright. She didn’t kill anyone. She’s not sick. But her mom kicked her out.”

  “You’re shitting me,” he said stiffly, his muscles locking the moment I got to the kicked out part.

  “No,” I breathed. “I’m not. She dropped her off to me about an hour ago, and I got the full explanation from her before she fell asleep.”

  “Okay,” he hesitated, leaning his backside against the porch railing and crossing his legs in front of him. “So give it to me already. The wait is worse than the actual act, I’m sure.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” I muttered darkly under my breath, turning my back on him as I said it.

  “What?” Drew asked.

  I turned to him, the whole distance of the porch separated us, and finally said it.

  “Your daughter told your ex-wife that she was pregnant, and she kicked her out,” I blurted quickly.

  Drew blinked at me, then he started laughing.

  “The girl was always creative; I’ll give her that,” he said, a smile on his face. “So Constance blew a gasket, then dropped her off. Why’s she over here? She has a key.”

  I winced.

  He thought I was joking.

  Oh, shit.

  “Drew,” I started, but he interrupted me, raising his arms to grab a hold of the porch’s roof.

  The move had his shirt riding up over his belt, exposing the taut expanse of his lower belly.

  “She could’ve just gotten away with telling her that she didn’t want to live with her, though. Constance knew it was going to happen eventually.”

  I bit my lip, knowing this wasn’t going to go over easily.

  This whole thing was about to blow up in my face, and I was right.

  The moment I didn’t smile, and he finally caught on to what I was really trying to tell him, his eyes grew intense.

  Then he cursed, turned on his heels, and stalked across the street to his house.

  He disappeared inside, leaving the door to his house open, and stayed gone for less than a minute when he came back out with a pair of running shorts and a pair of tennis shoes on.

  Despite the cold weather, as well as the fact that it was about to rain, he ran.

  And all I could do was watch until he disappeared.

  Chapter 16

  I hate it when I plan a conversation out in my head, and the other person doesn’t follow the script.

  -Aspen’s secret thoughts

  Drew

  I ran as fast as my legs would take me.

  I’d been going a solid forty-five minutes, and I had passed my usual stopping place not once, but twice.

  I’d legitimately ran out of steam about a mile past, but then I saw my daughter’s crying face, and kept going.

  A loud roar from an engine had me turning my head slightly, surprised to see a car coming up the wrong side of the road toward me.

  But they didn’t try to hit me.

  They were going too slow and were too far away for that.

  But what they did do ended up enraging me.

  “Hey, old man!” A boy from the backseat of the truck called obnoxiously. “You look a little hot!”

  Then the familiar taste and smell of a fire extinguisher was sprayed at me, covering me in the familiar dust.

  “Motherfucker!” I growled once the dust had settled.

  I’d at least had the sound mind to close my fucking eyes and mouth, thank God.

  Otherwise, I’d be in a different position right now.

  I cleared my eyes free of the dusty chemicals with my sweaty palms, then narrowed my eyes at the truck that was hauling ass down the street.

  Which meant I didn’t see the next truck come up behind me, yet another teenager hanging out of the window, until I was being sprayed once again.

  Luckily, this time it was one with compressed water instead of the chemical.

  It was no less upsetting, though.

  Which was why I was stupid and tried to follow the stupid trucks.

  I knew as soon as I rounded the corner that I wouldn’t catch them, but that didn’t stop me from trying.

  I slowed once my legs refused to cooperate, and I doubled over, my hands on my knees, as I breathed in and out heavily.

  “Fuck me,” I growled, straightening and throwing my hands up over the back of my head.

  My fingers crossed, and I glared at the ground under my feet, so fucking pissed off I could barely stand it.

  My fingers tightened in my hair and I nearly shouted out my frustration.

  I probably would have had I not already looked fucking terrible.

  “Drew,” the neighbor that lived at the top of my street said when I finally made it back to my road. “It start raining on your run?”

  I shook my head.

  “No, Dolores,” I answered grimly. “Stupid kids thought it’d be funny to spray me with a fire extinguisher.”

  Dolores’ eyes went wide.

  “You mean those boys?” She pointed at the car that was at the very end of the block.

  Right in front of the house that was directly next to mine.

  The one that Aspen said belonged to a couple that had a lot of domestic disputes.

  Ideally, I shouldn’t have gone over there.

  It wouldn’t accomplish anything.

  Surely, all I would be able to find out about the ones that owned the truck was that they were a couple of teenagers, and wouldn’t do it anymore.

  But I couldn’t help myself.

  The closer I got, the more decisive I became until I was standing on their front porch, knocking.

  The door opened and the woman who answered it looked at me like I was a lunatic.

  “Ca
n I help you?” She sniffed, clearly put out that she had to answer the door in the first place.

  “You know the boy who drives that truck?” I asked, pointing to the first truck.

  The second one wasn’t there, and I could only assume that they’d gone home.

  Lucky for them.

  Because I was about to rip the kid who drove this truck a new one.

  “I’m sorry, but why do you want to know?” She snapped.

  I gestured to my body.

  “This was from whomever was in the backseat of the truck that decided to spray me with a fire extinguisher,” I informed her.

  She blinked, clearly taken aback by that answer.

  “You’re telling me that my son used his truck to spray you with a fire extinguisher?” She repeated.

  I nodded.

  “Son. Of. A. Bitch,” she snarled, letting the door open wide as she turned on her heel and started stomping towards the back bedrooms.

  She stomped further down the hall and stood in the middle of the doorway glaring at her son.

  “Keith Lucas, you get your sorry, good for nothing ass out here right this minute,” the woman bellowed.

  The door at the back of the room opened, revealing the kid that’d been driving the first truck earlier.

  “What, Mom?” The boy hissed with disdain. “I’m trying to get my fuckin’ homework done!”

  “Did you spray this man with a fire extinguisher?” She screamed at him.

  I took a step back, not wanting to enter into this shit fest that I could see on the horizon, and had in fact gotten to the street when the mother came out the door with a fire extinguisher in her hand.

  Then watched with silent humor as the mother took the fire extinguisher and slammed it down into the middle of the boy’s windshield.

  “Mom!” The boy screeched. “That’s my truck!”

  “It’s my truck! I make payments on it, you little asshole, and if you keep acting like that stupid good for nothin’ father of yours, you’ll have to find your own fucking truck, as well as your own fuckin’ house!” She shouted.

  I chose that moment to turn my back on the two, jogging across the street back to where I’d left two of the most important people in my life.

  Two women who were currently staring out the window at the commotion with smiles on their face.

  “God,” I groaned as I walked inside. “Don’t turn into Aspen,” I said to my daughter. “Then you’ll be calling me in the middle of work like she does and telling me about the woman cheating on the man two doors down.”

  Attie’s eyes widened. “You what?”

  Her eyes turned to Aspen.

  Aspen was nodding emphatically. “For real. She cheats on her husband every time he leaves for work!”

  I sighed and walked to the bathroom, took a quick shower, and contemplated what I was going to do next.

  By the time I got back into the living room and found the two of them on the couch with a box of pizza in between them both, I had some semblance of control.

  Taking a slice from the other box on the coffee table, I sat on the love seat and faced my daughter.

  “I’m not mad,” I told her softly, studying the jalapenos on the slice. “But I’m a little bit disappointed.”

  In my peripheral vision I saw Attie look down at her lap.

  “I don’t know even how it happened. I was safe. We were safe!” She urged emphatically.

  I laughed.

  “Well, honey. Turns out condoms aren’t as effective as you’d like to think they are,” I said, looking over at Aspen whose face was now a shade of red I’d never seen on her before. “Maybe next time you’ll be a little more careful.”

  She wrinkled her nose at me, but said nothing.

  “There won’t be a next time,” Attie muttered under hear breath.

  And I found I quite liked the sound of that.

  Immensely.

  Before I could go into much more detail with Attie, my pager went, causing me to curse.

  “Shit,” I growled. “I gotta go,” I said without even looking at the readout.

  I only got paged when I was needed, and apparently, I was needed.

  Aspen came up to me and placed her lips against my jaw.

  “Be safe,” she whispered.

  I smiled down at her, dropped a kiss on her lips, then walked to my daughter.

  My daughter was watching the two of us with an enraptured gaze, her eyes on the both of us as they bounced back and forth.

  Once I reached Attie, I dropped a kiss on her head, then dropped down onto my haunches so I could look into her eyes.

  “You need to think long and hard about this, baby,” I urged. “A baby at sixteen would be really tough. Although I’m not telling you to do anything rash, I want you to figure out where your head is at when I come talk to you, okay?”

  She nodded.

  “I’ll think about it all, Daddy. I know this is a huge decision,” she promised.

  “And you can talk to Aspen, too. But you already know that, don’t you?”

  She nodded, smiling shyly.

  “I like her, Daddy,” she whispered.

  I smiled.

  “I like her, too, baby,” I whispered back conspiratorially.

  ***

  “Whoa, Rambo. Take a chill pill.”

  I looked over at Tai, shooting daggers at him from my hunched over position.

  “Fuck you.”

  Tai’s eyebrows went up.

  “What’s your malfunction?” He asked.

  “Why are you even here. I’m the one who got the page,” I grumbled, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning back further in my chair.

  “They called me, too. Remember?” He raised a brow. “We already spoke about this when I first got here.”

  I ignored him, or at least tried to.

  Tai was persistent, which was why I fisted my hands in my lap instead of rising to the bait that Tai was dangling in front of me.

  “What’s wrong with you, D?” Downy asked, his eyes sharp.

  I turned my gaze on to him.

  “Nothing to do with your sister,” I muttered darkly.

  Downy’s eyebrows rose, but it was Luke who chimed in this time.

  “Why would it have to do with his sister?” Luke interrupted. “Are you two dating?”

  I sighed, picking my hand up to pinch the bridge of my nose.

  I chose to answer, though, because if I didn’t, they’d just keep bothering the hell out of me until I did.

  “Yes,” I said. “Aspen and I are dating.”

  “Who’s Aspen?” Luke asked.

  “Downy’s sister,” I replied in exasperation. “Wasn’t that what I just said?”

  Luke shrugged.

  “I thought her name was Ridley,” he explained, his voice trailing off as his focus was caught by the man across the parking spot from where we’d been sitting.

  We were waiting for a warrant to be issued, then we’d go serve the warrant and apprehend the suspect as well as do a thorough search of the property.

  Well, they would.

  I’d be there just in case one of them got hurt.

  Which was very rare.

  Although last time we were out I had to patch up Nico’s arm.

  He’d scraped his arm on a nail, and I’d gotten to actually use some medical training.

  Not that I was complaining. If I wasn’t utilized, then that was a good day, and how I wanted it to be.

  “Her name is Aspen Ridley; I call her Ridley,” Downy explained when it was apparent that I wasn’t going to.

  I snorted.

  “Downy calls her Ridley because he’s too chicken shit to call her by her real name. Which, might I add, breaks her heart. She hates that you don’t like her,” I told him, turning to him to gauge his reaction.

  “I do too like her!” He snapped.

  I snorted.

&
nbsp; “You do?”

  He glared.

  “What?” He asked, turning away from me. “I do.”

  “Funny way to show it,” I muttered, sitting back and swinging my legs around when I saw Nico running towards us from the courthouse.

  “Got it,” Nico breathed heavily, scooting into the seat beside me. “Let’s roll.”

  I didn’t reply to the question I could see on Downy’s face; instead, I chose to stay silent and let him stew in his own thoughts.

  But, by the time we arrived at the house that we were executing the warrant for, Downy’s thoughts were all about the job he was about to perform.

  The doors opened and I half stood, eyes on the ground to avoid the equipment and feet of the other men in the truck with me.

  Then I smiled when my eyes caught on the dog at our feet.

  “Your dog’s eating your shoe,” I stared down at Mocha.

  Downy cursed and pulled his foot away, but Mocha had still wrought some damage while no one had been paying attention.

  “You’re such a bitch,” Downy growled, picking his foot up so he could examine the damage. “Anyone got some duct tape?”

  A roll was produced from someone’s bag, and Downy used it to wrap his foot while Nico, then I, got out of the back.

  Nico had a smile on his face when he turned to survey the house, one that quickly disappeared when he got his first look at the residence.

  “This is going to be bad,” he muttered under his breath.

  I couldn’t help but agree with him.

  The entire damn yard was a junkyard. The place was littered with many, many cars.

  And boats.

  And deer stands.

  And RVs.

  You name it, it was there, broken down in the man’s front yard.

  “This is impressive,” Luke muttered as he took his first look.

  “They should be on an episode of Hoarders,” Downy mumbled. “So tired of watching that show with my wife.”

  I snorted.

  “Your sister makes me watch Downton Abbey and old Saved By The Bell episodes,” I informed him. “I clearly have it worse off than you.”

  Downy flipped me off and moved to the front of the truck, Mocha, for once, right on his heels.

  That was something that happened when Mocha realized that it was time to work.

  But when it wasn’t time…let’s just say it wasn’t pretty.