I checked the pulse for good measure, and my assumptions were validated moments after.
I found a blanket in the back seat, grimacing when I realized it was a child’s, but nonetheless covered the body up and went to the next car, replacing my gloves as I went.
Seeing Kettle at one car, and Sebastian at the other, I went to the final one to find a young male teen stooped over the steering wheel, unconscious.
The assessment of his injuries were immediate as soon as I saw him.
The wound at his head was bleeding, but not detrimentally. He had multiple abrasions from broken glass, and bruising starting on his face from when the airbag deployed.
The hazy powder hanging in the air was also a byproduct of the airbag, making it difficult to breathe.
The young male’s pulse was steady and sure, as I felt it before placing him into a C-collar to immobilize his spine.
He woke when the ambulance arrived on scene, the sharp bonk-bonk of the sirens jolting him rudely awake.
“You’re all right,” I said calmly, placing my hands on the boy’s head. “You’ve been in an accident. Can you tell me where you are?”
“C-car,” he rasped. “Driving h-home from s-school.”
“Good boy. What’s your name?” I asked softly.
“B-bond,” he grated.
“Bond?” I asked, clarifying that I’d heard him correctly.
“James. J-James Bon-nd,” he confirmed.
I let that sit for a moment, and then let out a small laugh. “James Bond? Are you for real?” I asked.
He gave me a small smile. “D-damn s-straight.”
“My name’s Torren. It’s nice to meet you, James Bond. Although I wish it was under different circumstances,” I said lightly, trying to keep his mind off of what was going on around him.
From behind me, I could hear the Jaws-of-Life starting up, knowing that someone was most likely in worse condition than the boy.
Being in an accident was scary. Everything seemed heightened due to the adrenaline coursing through their systems. Sounds were louder. Pain was sharper and more severe. Smells were stronger.
It was my job to keep them calm, though.
I was in their shoes once, and I’d made a promise that I’d do the same as the man that’d done that for me all those years ago.
I chuckled and backed up as Dallas and Corbin, the ambulance crew for today’s shift, walked up with the gurney and back board.
“James Bond, fellas. He’s A&O times three. Lateral cut above his right eye, bruising evident on the face from the airbag. Vitals are good from what I can tell,” I informed the two men.
They both nodded, and took over, getting the boy out of the car expertly and transferring him over to the backboard quickly and efficiently.
I left them to their duties, going over to Sebastian who was half in-half out of a tiny little Minnie Cooper.
The car was totaled, no doubt about it.
The front end was so smashed that it was flat in the front. The motor and front end were spewed around the large light pole, along with the contents of the car, which was the most surprising.
“Are those…condoms?” I asked in surprise.
Kettle, who’d joined the festivities at the small car, snorted. “He’s a drug rep. He was delivering condoms to a local clinic with the company’s logo on them.”
My brows rose. “I thought they only delivered pens and shit.”
“Apparently,” Sebastian said as he backed out of the window. “They do condoms and pens. What a combination. Who would’ve thought?
I snorted and started to reply, but my voice was drowned out by the sound of Jaws starting back up, finally popping the door loose enough to work the Halligan into the small gap.
With quick, short jerks, Kettle worked the door loose and finally opened it, allowing even more condoms to flow out of the opened door and onto the concrete.
“What the hell? Did you have these in a bag that exploded or something?” Kettle muttered under his breath.
The woman who was driving was red as an apple. Not because she was hurt, or in pain, but because she was embarrassed. “I couldn’t help it. My boss tells me what to deliver and where. I just do what he says.”
I snorted and started to clean up the scene, brushing the glass into one large pile, picking up pieces of cars and staying out of the cops’ way as they measured and took pictures.
Four hours later, we were finally getting back to the station.
Our dinner that’d been cooking in the oven now resembled something close to gelatin instead of the casserole that it had started out to be before we’d had to stop cooking it halfway through.
I sat down and threw my hands up over my head. “Fuck. I’m hungry.”
Kettle took the recliner in front of me and switched on the Saint’s game. “Pizza, bitches.”
“No. We had pizza for lunch. I want Chinese,” Sebastian said as he took a seat.
“Chinese doesn’t deliver,” I noted.
“Or we could,” the bell rang at the front walk and I groaned, not wanting to get up in the slightest. “Hey Dallas, could you go get that?”
Dallas and Corbin had been back for going on an hour now. It was their duty to get it since they’d been sitting the longest.
“Fuck off,” Dallas muttered from his spot on the other recliner.
His hat covered his face, and he moved not a muscle. “You’re such a douche,” I groaned as I got up and made my way to the front door.
Painfully, might I add.
I was getting fucking old. Although, thirty three wasn’t that old, it wasn’t that young, either.
The things I could do ten years ago…hell even five years ago, wasn’t so easy now.
Like working a call and bending over constantly. That shit was for the birds.
The doorbell rang again, jolting me forward. “Hold your horses,” I yelled, walking as fast as my sore knees allowed.
I finally got to the door and opened it wide, surprised as shit to see Tru at the door with a large casserole in her hand. “Hey,” she smiled, her bright green eyes shining. “I brought y’all a thank-you dinner.”
I opened the door wide. “Come in. We were just discussing whether to have pizza again or not.”
“Pizza, yum!” She exclaimed as she handed over the dish in her hands.
It was still hot, and I could smell the mouthwatering aroma permeating the air. “Is this Mexican?”
She nodded and shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans. “Yep. My mom’s taco casserole recipe. It’s the bomb.”
“Did she make it through her treatment all right?” I asked as I grabbed her hand with my free one and guided her into the main room of the station.
She smiled sadly. “She did okay. She was pretty sick afterwards. I took her home and stayed with her until my dad got home. He helped make this for you guys, although he didn’t realize it at the time.”
Her mischievous grin made me laugh, which woke all the guys up in the process. Even the little shit, Dallas, raised up in his recliner, making the hat covering his face fall into his lap.
“Let’s eat, boys. Tru brought us some food!” I crowed.
I was fucking ecstatic that she’d come. So much so, that I gave her a hug once I sat the dish on the counter. “Thanks Tru.”
She stiffened slightly before moving her arms around my chest, laying her head against my shoulder.
“You deserve the moon and the stars for making my momma laugh. I’d give you a thousand casseroles just for that,” she whispered quietly.
My arms tightened around her shoulders, and a feeling started to well in my chest, making me feel full and light.
A feeling that, just maybe, would grow into an even bigger feeling.
A feeling that I couldn’t name right now, but given time, it could be something more.
Something I haven’t had for a very long time.
Chapter 7
If I have to put pants on, t
he answer is no.
-Tru to Cleo
Tru
“Where are you going?” Iliana asked as she eyed my outfit.
I grimaced and looked down. “I wanted to go get a new lock for our front and back door. When I got home this morning it was open again, and I think that maybe with the new lock, it would actually stay locked.”
Iliana grimaced. “Have fun. But you could’ve put on something a little more…normal. I mean you’re going to Lowe’s, not the gym.”
I flipped her off. “Says the girl who made us go out to eat at a steakhouse in our workout clothes.”
She blushed. “How was I supposed to know you’d see your crush there?”
I rolled my eyes. ‘Crush’ was such a juvenile word. What I felt was anything but juvenile when I encountered Grayson.
“It doesn’t matter. Just don’t tease me about my clothes. You know how I hate wearing clothes,” I muttered darkly, as I slipped my shoes on, sockless.
I had a problem, and it had to do with clothes.
I didn’t like dressing up.
I didn’t like dressing, period.
I was a panty and t-shirt kind of girl. The first thing to go, once I entered my house, was my pants.
Iliana was used to it. Especially when her boyfriend, Bobby, showed.
It wasn’t often that he was there since he was in the Navy, but when he was, Iliana had to make sure I knew so I wouldn’t come in stripping my clothes off.
They’ve been together since I’d known her, and I still, to this day, couldn’t see what Iliana saw in him.
Bobby was a royal dick.
If there was a royal dick family, Bobby would be the queen dick. He’s only second to one man, and that’s his brother, Colby. King Dick. Colby was not in the Navy, he was, however, on the police force.
And he was the weirdest, most condescending, slimiest man I’d ever had the privilege of meeting.
In fact, I disliked the man so much, that I stayed with my parents on the days that Bobby was in town.
Because where Bobby was, Colby was. It was kind of hard to tell the cop that he wasn’t welcome in your house. Especially since Iliana didn’t seem to have the same problem with him that I did.
“I won’t, sweetie. You don’t tease me about my chocolate fetish, so I don’t tease you about your pant fetish. Speaking of pants, you’re gonna need to wear yours when you come home, Bobby’s out for a two week leave, and he should be here when you get back,” Iliana said excitedly.
I held the grimace in check, but only barely.
Fucking wonderful. There went my weekend.
“Okay, I’ll see you in a few. I’m just running to get a new doorknob. Maybe Bobby will put it on for us?” I asked hopefully.
She grimaced. “Probably not. You know how tired he is when he gets out. He’ll most likely just hang out with Colby and play Call of Duty since it just came out.”
I sighed. Perfect.
I’d have to call my dad to come put it on if I couldn’t.
“Alright, see ya later,” I said as I walked outside to my mom’s Jeep.
She’d let me borrow it after I’d dropped her off from her treatment two days ago, letting me use it for however long I needed.
Which, hopefully, wouldn’t be long since I intended to go to a dealership and take a look at the cars this afternoon on the way home from the hardware store.
Lowe’s was my new favorite store, which officially made me old.
Especially when, thirty minutes later, I was standing in front of the electronic locks thinking it’d be cooler than shit to be able to unlock the door with my phone.
“Hey, sexy,” a cool, deep voice said from directly behind me.
I looked over my shoulder and stiffened. Shivers danced over my skin (not the good kind), and bile started to crawl up my throat as the person I’d been looking to avoid later showed up exactly where I was. How fucking lucky was I?
“Colby,” I said shortly.
It was no secret that I disliked him.
He knew it. I knew it. Iliana and my mother knew it. Fuck, but even my father knew it.
They thought I was overreacting, but I wasn’t. There was just something about the man that I didn’t like. There was no rhyme or reason for it…only that he gave me the creeps. The way he looked at me made me want to gouge my eyes out with a fork.
“Whatcha doin’?” He asked, crowding me with his large body.
“Getting a new door knob,” I murmured, stepping out and away from the front of the display so I didn’t have anything for him to crowd me against.
He leered at me. “I’ll do that for you. For a price.”
I shrugged. “I’m…”
My reply was cut short when another beefy arm wrapped around my shoulders.
This one didn’t set off any internal alarms, though.
In fact, this one made my belly settle and relief pour through my body.
It was the smell that clued me in on who it was.
A spicy scent, paired with a hint of what reminded me of burned oil.
“Thanks, man,” Grayson said territorially. “But I’m the only one that’ll be touching her knobs.”
I snorted at that comment, relieved beyond belief that he’d shown up when he did.
Colby’s eyes narrowed. “Who’s this chump?”
“Torren. Torren Trammel,” Grayson supplied helpfully. “I’m with BFD. We’ve met.”
Colby was a douche, and probably thought the fire department was below him, just as he thought my dad’s job was a cake job and didn’t deserve to be paid what he got.
Which he’d told me on multiple occasions.
Colby’s eyes glowed red hot as he noted that I didn’t pull away from Grayson but, instead, leaned into him.
I might have forgotten to mention that Colby had asked me out on multiple occasions where I promptly told him that I was too busy for a boyfriend.
He’d never stopped asking me and continued to ask me out each and every time he saw me.
“Thought you were too busy for a man,” Colby spat.
I tensed, not wanting to start a fight in the middle of Lowe’s.
Grayson saved me, though. In a way that only a badass could.
“She was too busy. I changed her mind, though. There’s not a woman alive that can resist a fireman,” he jeered.
“Oh, yeah? You must’ve not been together too long. I haven’t seen you around her house,” Colby observed.
My stomach dropped as Colby started to turn into his usual lecherous self.
Why did he know Grayson wasn’t around?
See, that’s exactly what I was talking about. Why the fuck was he so goddamn creepy?
“Yeah, we’re new. As of this weekend when she baked me a casserole,” Grayson stated.
Colby’s mouth clenched when he didn’t get a response out of Grayson.
“Well, I’ll see you later tonight. I wouldn’t mind some of your taco casserole for dinner. That’s my favorite,” he said before giving me a creepy wink, and walking away.
“So,” I said. “What’re you doing later?”
He laughed. “That guy’s a fucking creep. Always making shit harder than it needs to be. Last week he refused to let us get to a patient because he was being ‘questioned.’ Who, might I add, had a bleeding gunshot wound in his damn leg.”
I grimaced. “That sounds like him. He’s the brother of my roommate’s boyfriend. I might like my roommate’s boyfriend better if Colby wasn’t such an asshole. “
He nodded in understanding. “Good thing I came when I did,” he winked.
He didn’t even know how much I appreciated it.
He just earned himself another fucking casserole.
“So … what are you up to today?” I asked as I looked at the paint chips in his hand.
I followed his hand upwards, taking in his sleeveless shirt that looked like the sleeves had been hacked off with a pocket knife. The jeans he was wearing resembled something
that most people would throw away once they got that worn in, but Grayson worked them perfectly.
He held the paint chips up for me to see. “I’m painting my living room. Something manly. What about you?”
I gestured to the locks. “I need a new door knob. Mine isn’t latching anymore.”
His eyes turned in the direction of the locks I’d been perusing and he shook his head. “Those wouldn’t be very good. Any mid-level hacker could hack into that and have the door open in moments. Not to mention that if the Wi-Fi goes out, you can’t get into your place.”
I blinked, never having even thought of that. “Shit. I’m glad you told me that.”
He shrugged. “Yeah. I’ve seen it happen quite a few times now that they’ve come out. You wouldn’t believe how many people call the fire department because they’re locked out of their house.”
I couldn’t control a snort. “Some people are so stupid.”
He winked. “You wouldn’t believe it.”
Before I could answer, Grayson’s name was called by the woman at the paint counter. Instead of just leaving, though, he grabbed my hand and took me with him. Giving me the same butterflies I had two days ago when he’d done it at the fire station.
Handing over the paint chip to the lady and telling her which one he wanted, he turned to me and studied me. “Where’re you off to after this?”
“I need to go look at new cars. I’m thinking about a Ford Explorer. Do you think that’s too big for one person?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No. Although it’s not going to be cheap on gas, like a small car would. Like your old one was.”
I bit my lip, thinking about the advantages of more room compared to gas prices. “Guess I’ll just have to wait until I look at it before I decide if it’s worth it.”
“I’ll put that on for you and go to the Ford dealership with you, if you help me paint my living room,” Grayson said suddenly.
I widened my eyes at him. What I’d meant to say was, ‘God, yes!’ What came out was, “What happened to the paint that was already on the walls? It looked good.”
His mouth pursed. “Molly picked it out, and I don’t like the color. I wanted beige. She was the one who wanted red. So we compromised and got red.”
Charge to My Line Page 6