Scorchin' (The Hot Boys Series Book 2)

by Olivia Rush

  “Aw,” he said. “See, I suck with women so I was thinking a wingman like you’d be just the ticket to meet some girls.”

  “Should’ve joined the crew a year ago, then,” I said.

  “Yeah,” said Mike. “See, Stone’s a proud papa. He decided bringing home new trim every night wasn’t setting the best example for his boy.”

  “What, you afraid that he’s gonna turn out to be a lady-killer like his old man?” asked Joel.

  “That’s exactly what I don’t want,” I said. “Jason is getting to the age where he’s starting to soak up my habits like a sponge. I don’t want to see him treating girls in high school the way I did.”

  “Such a responsible guy,” said Mike, standing up and slapping me hard on the shoulder before heading over to the fridge.

  “Besides,” I said. “This Callie girl was a reporter. ”And I’m focused on the job, not wasting my time answering questions for some rag.”

  “Yep, I hear that” said Mike, his head buried in the fridge.

  He came back to the table with the box of leftover pizza from the night before. I flipped open the top and took a look at the cold slices of pepperoni and sausage, but I couldn’t find the appetite to pick one of them up.

  “So, you’re thinking about a new mom for the kid, huh?” asked Joel.

  “Wouldn’t quite put it like that,” I said. “But I could do worse for Jason than to have a woman in his life.”

  “What happened to his mom?” asked Joel.

  I felt my body tense up at the question, and Mike stopped mid-chew.

  “Ah, not really a subject we like to talk about here,” said Mike, his mouth full.

  I opened my mouth to say something, not even sure what, really, when the klaxon blared throughout the station.

  “Shit!” shouted Mike. “We’re up!”

  I didn’t need to hear it a second time. The rest of the boys in the station and I stopped whatever we were doing and rushed down to the trucks, sliding down the poles and grabbing our gear. Once we were all suited up and ready to go, Chief Stokes entered the garage and looked us over.

  “Look alive, boys,” he called out. “We got a live one up near the river!”

  “Let me guess,” said Mike. “Another office building?”

  “You got it,” said Chief. “Hard to say so far, but it’s looking like it fits the profile of the other office fires. That means we’ve got a good chance of no one being up there, but we’re not taking any chances. Let’s move out! Stone, you got the other ladder!”

  With that, Chief hurried over to the first truck and I took the other one. The rest of the crew climbed onto the trucks, taking their places and getting ready to ship out. Once we were all good to go, the garage doors rose up, and the trucks peeled out and onto the streets.

  The cool, late evening air hit me as soon as we pulled out into the city. The buildings of Brooklyn flew by in a wild blur as the truck sirens blared. After ten or so minutes of tense driving, we arrived at the scene of the fire.

  Sure enough, it was an office tower, this one about twenty stories high. It was a nondescript steel and glass building. The only thing separating it from the surrounding buildings was the plume of fire shooting out its side.

  “Stone!” shouted the chief as we hopped off the trucks. “I’m gonna handle the street-level situation, and you and your crew are gonna head up into the building and take the fire from the inside! Fire’s up on the fourteenth floor!”

  “Got it!” I shouted.

  Mike, Joel, and a few other men followed me toward the office building’s entrance. Behind us, crowds were already gathering to witness the fire, and Chief Stokes was doing all he could to keep them back at a safe distance.

  I shook my head as about every person in the crowd whipped out their phone and started recorded the fire, as if this was some kind of theme park show and not a situation of actual danger.

  But I had no time to worry about them.

  “What’s the plan, Stone?” asked Mike as we moved into the building’s desolate lobby.

  “Get up there as fast as possible. No elevators, obviously. We got a hike ahead of us, so let’s do this fast and clean.”

  The men nodded, and we were off. We hurried up the narrow, concrete stairwell that led to the fourteenth floor. Once we arrived, we plugged the hose into the water valve in the stairwell and got to work.

  I pressed my hands against the door that led to the offices, trying to determine what the heat situation was. It seemed fine, so I nodded to the men to form up and get ready to follow me in. I pulled my foot back and slammed it through the door, the thing nearly flying off its hinges.

  “Maybe you should have just climbed up the side of the building, Stone?” asked Mike, his voice muffled under his breathing gear.

  Before I had a chance to say anything in response, gray, thick smoke shot out from the offices and into the stairwell. I headed in and saw that the fire hadn’t yet spread to the lobby—a relief, and a sign that it wasn’t totally out of control.

  The men and I headed carefully through the smoke-filled offices, keeping an eye out for anyone who might’ve gotten stuck inside during the fire. Thankfully, however, it looked like the situation there was the same as at the rest of the fires—no one around.

  We went deeper into the offices, the smoke growing denser with every step.

  “Stone!” came the crackling voice of the chief through my radio.

  “Yeah?”

  “What’s the story up there?”

  “We got a lot of smoke, but no fire.”

  “Makes sense,” said Chief. “Looks like the fire’s in the server room, just like the others. But the ventilation system’s shot, which means the fire’s localized there, but the smoke’s going wherever the fuck it wants.”

  “Then we’ll get in and put that fucker out,” I said.

  “Any sign of survivors?”

  “Nope,” I said. “Place is a damn ghost town, just like the others.”

  “Then I’ll let you get to it. Stokes out.”

  “You heard the man!” I shouted out. “Server room!”

  The boys and I picked up the pace, and soon we were headed down the narrow hallway that led to the server room. Just when I began to worry that we might not have enough slack on the hose to make the journey, the sight of crackling orange flames ahead signaled that we’d arrived.

  The server room was locked tight behind thick glass, and it was going to take some doing to get through to it. I watched the fire rage on the other side of the glass barrier, burning out of control and turning the expensive computer equipment on the other side into useless, goopy slag.

  The boys went through the gear and lugged out our steel battering ram. I took point, and Mike and two other guys heaved the thing into position. After a few well-timed slams into the door, the glass came down in heavy, thick shards. We were ready to storm the place like medieval warriors rushing through the castle gates.

  We readied the hose and turned on the valve, a thick stream of water spraying from the end and into the server room. The wild, raging flames were soon brought under control by the endless stream of water, and after about fifteen minutes of sustained attack, we took the fire down.

  Once the worst of the blaze was over, the men and I headed into the server room, putting out little fires here and there. I walked slowly across the span of the room, stopping at one of the blown-out windows. Down below, I spotted the trucks surrounded by a half-ring of civvies. I gave a thumbs-up to Stokes, and a huge cheer broke out from the crowd.

  It was over.

  “Stone, check this out,” said Mike.

  I turned around to see him pointing up at the ceiling.

  “What is it?” I asked, stepping around the bulky ruined server equipment.

  “I was thinking it’s weird that these rooms would be totally gutted by the fires,” he said, still looking up. “I mean, isn’t this computer shit some of the most expensive gear these finance firms hav
e? You’d think they’d all have special precautions in place so this exact situation wouldn’t happen.”

  I glanced up to see what he was pointing at. Sure enough, it was a foam-based fire prevention system.

  One that hadn’t gone off.

  “Fucking weird, right?” he said. “Maybe I watch too many movies or something, but I always thought these computer rooms were built like Fort Knox. You saw that glass we had to smash to get in here, right?”

  “Sure as hell did,” I said.

  This all stank—bad.

  “This isn’t our job, you know,” I said, turning my attention away from the sprinklers and back toward the rest of the men. “We just put ‘em out.”

  “I know, I know,” he said. “But this all just seems too fucking weird.”

  Then, out of nowhere, Callie appeared in my mind. I wondered what she might have to say about this situation, what she’d add to her article-in-progress. I shook my head in a vain attempt to banish her from my thoughts.

  “Let’s take one more pass through this place and get the hell out of here,” I said.

  “You got it, Stone,” said Mike.

  Truth be told, I didn’t want to think about how bad all of this looked. The more I thought about it as we finished up, the more certain I became that this wasn’t what it seemed. All these fires, all breaking out the same way—it was just too much of a coincidence. And one of the first things you learn in this game is that there’s no such thing as coincidences.

  After about an hour of making sure the situation was handled, I took a few of the boys down to the ground level with me to check in with Chief Stokes.

  “Nice work, Black,” he said as I approached. “There’s a reason I keep putting you as team leader for these ops.”

  “Thanks, Chief,” I said.

  Chief put his hands on his hips and looked at me skeptically. He must’ve been able to pick out from the tone of my voice that something was up.

  “Let’s hear it,” he said.

  I went right into it, telling him about the localization of the fire to the server room and the non-functioning sprinklers.

  “It smells like shit,” he said, looking back up at the tower. “Something’s not right about it.”

  “I know it’s not my job,” I said. “But if it means that we might be able to prevent future fires—I don’t know—it just seems like something we shouldn’t ignore.”

  Right at that moment, however, I spotted something out of the corner of my eye. Not something, actually, but someone.

  “I’ll make sure to get this info to the right people,” said Chief. “But for now, the best we can do is take care of these fires as they happen.”

  “That’s the plan,” I said, doing my best to not let my eyes dart over to the face in the crowd.

  With that, Chief headed off. As soon as he was gone, I turned on my boots and laid eyes right on the face that I’d been thinking about all damned day.

  The face of Callie Sullivan.

  5

  CALLIE

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  My blood ran cold as soon as Stone spotted me, and as he strode with long steps toward the crowd, his heated eyes fixed on me, I felt stuck in place.

  What the hell was wrong with me? I felt like a kid who’d just gotten caught by their parents skipping class.

  “What do you mean ‘what the hell am I doing here’?” I asked, trying my best to come up with something else to say.

  But then my spine returned, and I remembered that I didn’t need an explanation for why I was here, just like any of the other people in the crowd around me.

  “It’s a freaking free country,” I said. “I don’t need a damn permission slip to be here.”

  Stone opened his mouth to speak, but before he got out a word he noticed that just about everyone nearby’s eyes were locked onto us. So, instead of speaking, he stuck his thumb into the air and pointed off toward the right.

  “Come with me,” he said.

  I gave a mocking salute in response and followed him, staying on the other side of the police barrier. After a little bit of walking, Stone and I were away from the prying eyes of the crowd.

  “Now,” he said. “You want to tell me what you’re doing here?”

  He clearly wasn’t in the mood for screwing around. I glanced up at his face, his handsome features streaked with soot and glistening with sweat. I needed to stand up for myself, but damn, did he look good.

  “I don’t have to tell you anything,” I said. “This is my neighborhood, and I wanted to see what was going on. I think I have a right to know about these kinds of things.” Then I really started to get my spine back. “And who the hell are you to come storming over to me like some kind of pissed-off daddy and scold me in front of everyone like that, huh?”

  I thought I might’ve had him with that one, but no such luck. I guess when you fight fires for a living, the force of nature that is an angry woman doesn’t seem too bad in comparison.

  “Did you think I’d believe any of that, ever, for a second? Trying to tell me you’re some concerned citizen when you were at my damn station trying to wring me for information about these fires? How dumb do you think I am?”

  He had me. But that didn’t mean I was going to give in, leaving with my head hanging down low—I was too stubborn for that sort of nonsense.

  “You’re not the only one with a job to do, you know,” I said. “My story right now is these fires. And if you’re not going to help me out, then I’m just going to have to do it on my own. So, unless you want to call over the NYPD and have them help us sort out this little situation…”

  That seemed to have some effect. The burning in Stone’s eyes died down a bit, but I could tell that I wasn’t out of the woods just yet.

  “And am I supposed to believe that you’re perfectly happy standing behind the barricade and watching? No—I’m thinking you’re just the kind of girl who starts sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong.”

  “And what the hell do you care?” I asked. “What difference does it make to you how I do my job?”

  “It matters because there’s a very, very good chance that how you do your job will start screwing around with how I do my job.”

  Then he looked away for a moment, the slightest hint of a smile playing on his lips.

  “Besides,” he said. “I don’t think this is the type of place for someone like you.”

  I couldn’t tell if he was purposefully being a prick and trying to goad me into a fight, or if he’d really said what I thought he’d said.

  “And what the hell is that supposed to mean, ‘someone like me’?”

  “I think you know just what I mean by ‘someone like you.’”

  “Oh,” I said, my tone taking on a sharp edge. “You think just because I’m a reporter that I’ll do nothing but get in the way?”

  “Just saying that this is some dangerous stuff, and I don’t want to see you getting hurt—that’s all.”

  “And you think I can’t look out for myself?” I asked, getting angrier by the second.

  “I don’t know if someone who writes about debutante balls or whatever would really find herself home in the world I live in.”

  I had a sense that he knew he’d found a weak point and was just hammering it. Sure, I was a little prideful—it’d gotten me to where I was. But him acting like reporters were nothing but busybodies who didn’t care whose toes they stepped on was more than a little irritating.

  “Listen,” he said. “Take whatever notes you want—from behind the barricade, mind you—and write your little article. But I’m letting you know that this is a good place for you to call it quits before you get in over your head. Got it?”

  “I don’t ‘got it,’” I said. “And where did you get it into that big head of yours that only city workers have a right to know what’s going on at a scene like this?”

  That hint of a smirk still on his face, Stone placed both hands on his h
elmet.

  “My head’s not that big, is it?” he asked. “What, you want to join my team or something?”

  “No, I just want the same thing you want—to figure out the story behind these fires!”

  “Then you can read the official reports right along with the rest of the city.”

  Then he gave me one last look over.

  “Now, unless there’s something else I can help you with, miss, I’m going to have to ask you to step back from the barrier and stay out of the way.”

  And with that, he turned and left, leaving me to stew in my own frustration.

  I couldn’t believe how Stone spoke to me. He was arrogant and condescending. I couldn’t believe that I was hearing what I’d heard. The only thing that dulled the sting was knowing that he was likely just saying what he knew would get a rise out of me.

  That didn’t make me any less mad at him, however. But there was something even more troubling about our little encounter—why was I still just as totally attracted to him?

  6

  STONE

  After last night’s fire I was ready for the few days off I had ahead of me. Once we got the all-clear from the chief, the boys and I headed back to the station. I didn’t waste any time in grabbing my gear and getting back to my place as fast as I could. I loved my job, and I loved my crew, but more than that, I loved being home with my boy.

  “Daddy!”

  That’s the word that made it all worthwhile. I was up bright and early that next morning to make sure I was ready for Jason.

  He stepped out of his bedroom, his groggy eyes turning bright and happy as soon as he spotted me. Jason rushed down the hallway and into the living room, climbing over the couches and chairs that stood in his way. I stepped around the kitchen bar and scooped the little dude up as soon as he got close, pulling him into a tight hug.

  Jason was six years old and full of enough energy for at least two kids his age. He had the same green eyes as me but his mother’s sandy blonde hair. And judging by how damn solid he was, I could already tell he was going to be a six-four bruiser, just like his old man.