Hearts on Fire

by Amber Thielman

  “Hurry the fuck up,” Troy hissed. “Hurry up, or I’ll kill both of you.”

  “She needs to go to the hospital.” I took a deep breath, fighting the urge to snap. “Her head might be worse than we thought. She could be hemorrhaging somewhere. We have to take her in.”

  “No one is going anywhere.” He slammed the gun hand against the wall, shaking the windows and leaving a small dent in the drywall. I flinched but didn’t move from my position near my patient. Lisa, looked as terrified as I felt and grappled for my hand, and squeezed it, closing her eyes.

  “Keep your eyes open for me, okay?” I whispered, squeezing her hand back.

  “I’m scared,” she said, and I forced a half-assed smile for her sake.

  “Troy,” I said steadily. “A doctor needs to assess Lisa’s condition. Now.”

  “That’s what you’re for!” he roared. I took a deep, shaky breath to compose myself, and then turned to look him straight in the eye.

  “Listen to me and listen to me good.” I kept my voice level and firm. “I’m only an EMT. I can’t do what a doctor can for Lisa. I can keep her alive, maybe, but only a doctor can save her life.” I pulled in another shaky breath. “If you just get me my captain, maybe we can figure—” At that moment, Lisa’s grip on my hand tightened severely, and I glanced down just in time to see her eyes roll back in her head as she began to seize.

  “Shit.”

  “What’s happening? What the fuck is happening?” Troy lunged forward, pushing the barrel of the gun against the back of my skull. My breath caught in my throat, but I tried to ignore him.

  “She’s seizing.” I placed a hand on either side of her head to steady it. “She could be hemorrhaging. You need to let me get her in an ambulance now.”

  “Help her!” Troy cried. “Fucking do something!”

  “I can’t!” I shouted. “She just has to ride it out, okay?” I took a breath and turned my head to meet Troy’s steely gaze. The gun pressed against my forehead, the cold steel chilling me to my core. “I need you to open that door and let my captain in. Tate Becker, the man who was behind me. I need his help.”

  “I don’t want anyone else in here.”

  “Then Lisa may die.” I didn’t realize I’d been clenching my jaw until a tick made it spasm with pain. Blood swilled around my mouth and realized I’d been biting my tongue. “Right now, Troy, you’re going to be in some trouble for domestic violence, okay? You’ll get a slap on the wrist and time in the pen. But listen to me...if you don’t let us do our jobs, and Lisa here dies, you will be brought in for manslaughter. Do you understand me?”

  “I...”

  “Do you understand me?”

  Troy didn’t have time to answer. Before he could speak, the front door burst open and the police lunged for him. One of them tackled him to the floor, pinning his hands back, while another kicked the gun away, so he could safely help his partner hold Troy down.

  “Hang in there, Lisa,” I muttered. Relief flooded through my body, a relief so intense I thought I might pass out. Lisa’s seizure was starting to dissipate, but I kept my hands on her for comfort...not just for her, but for me. I tried to catch my breath and ease my racing heart as Tate kneeled next to me and the patient’s pulse. Behind him, Kyle and another recruit were bringing in the stretcher. I looked at Tate, meeting his gaze, but no words were needed. He nodded, just once, then went to work on our patient.

  My high on cloud nine didn’t last long.

  Later that night, raising my face to the warm spray of the water, I closed my eyes to allow the day’s events to wash away. My muscles were sore, feet aching, and a painful twinge in my back refused to go away. I hadn’t heard any updates on Lisa, but I knew we probably never would. Our job was to keep them alive until they arrived at the hospital, nothing more, and nothing less. Getting attached, getting involved...was too much of a risk. In this profession, I could only hope I’d never see Lisa or Troy again.

  As I turned to rinse the conditioner from my hair, the bathroom door squeaked open. I froze, horrified. My mind reeled as I tried to think of something to say to warn the intruder that I was there, without sounding prissy. Before I could open my mouth, a loud whoop filled the air. I jumped, my feet slipping out from beneath me as a bag of open flour sailed over the top of the shower curtain and slammed me on the head.

  I went down hard, the back of my skull catching the faucet as baking flour coated me in sticky, white paste. There was another hoot, a few laughs, and sound pound of feet running away. Multiple pairs of feet.

  With a low curse, I slowly got to my feet. When I touched the back of my head, it came away tainted in cherry red blood. The empty bag of flour lay at my feet, battered down by the water from the shower. I leaned down to pick it up and hurled it angrily over the curtain where it plopped pointlessly onto the cold tile. My entire body was coated with the sticky paste. It was in my eyes, in my hair... everywhere.

  Ignoring the stabbing pain in my head the best I could, I washed off most of the floury paste from my body, unable to cleanse it entirely from my hair, despite my best efforts. My eyes stung with tears as I turned off the water and stepped out, angry, hurt, and most of all, humiliated. After everything I’d done earlier, I still walked around here like a pile of cow shit ready to be trampled through.

  I should have expected nothing less.

  Chapter 7

  Tate

  Hallie came to dinner fully dressed and smiling, but the white paste I noticed clinging to different sections of her wet hair tipped me off at once. A hush fell over the table as she entered the room, and I looked from man to man, wondering who the culprit was. Silence weighed heavy as Hallie dished herself a plate of food and headed to the table. It was just then I noticed nobody had put out a chair for her. As I started to stand, she waved me off, took a seat on the floor, and crossed her legs, dinner plate in one hand.

  “This is probably part of initiation, right?” she asked. “God forbid I sit at the table with the men of the house.” At those words, a few of my men looked away from her. One or two snickered, and the others rolled their eyes.

  “Don’t take it so hard,” Porter said finally. He smirked as he looked down at Hallie on the floor. “Everyone gets the bag of flour initiation. It’s how we welcome you.”

  “I didn’t,” Jake said. Realizing his mistake, he looked away from Porter his face flushing with embarrassment.

  “It’s fine,” Hallie said. She jutted her chin out, but her lip quivered. “I knew something like that would be coming.” She looked down at her plate and grabbed a French fry, rolling it between her fingers. She didn’t eat it.

  “Hey,” Jake said suddenly. “You’re bleeding.” He stood from the table and crossed the room, reaching for Hallie. Before he could touch her, however, she slapped one hand to the back of her head, flushing.

  “It’s nothing,” she said. “Don’t, Jake.” She pushed his hand away and got to her feet, setting the untouched plate onto the counter.

  “Hallie—”

  “It’s nothing,” she insisted again. When she pulled her hand away, crimson blood coated her fingertips. “Shit.”

  My gaze swung from Hallie to Porter, who sniggered next to Tanner, then to Kyle. He was staring at her, his expression emotionless, one I couldn’t read. When he finally looked at me, he shrugged, and I knew that his so-called harmless prank had done that to her. As Jake tried to convince her to stay, we watched Hallie walk out, her back to all of us, head held high.

  Silence settled once again over the room. I looked around the table, a heavy emptiness in my chest.

  “You were out of bounds,” I said finally. I looked between Kyle and Porter, and then around at my crew. “All of you were.”

  “Sorry, Captain, we meant no harm,” Tanner said, but the lightness in his voice gave him away.

  “It was just a joke...sir.” Kyle said. He met my gaze and held it, smirking a little. I knew damn well that mine and Kyle’s friendship would fade f
ast as soon as I’d been promoted to Captain. Once rookies together, I knew Kyle’s idea of fun was not taking orders from me. While I couldn’t blame him—I was still trying to figure out this whole leader thing myself—I had to stand up for my entire crew, even Hallie. Especially Hallie. I had to lead them and not allow them to drag her, or anyone else, through the dirt.

  “It’s not a joke when someone gets hurt,” I said. At this, a few of my men finally looked up from their dinner plates, meeting my eyes. “Being new here is challenging enough without adding pranks. Harper already feels like she doesn’t belong here. Don’t enforce it.”

  “Yes sir,” Porter and Tanner said under their breath.

  I stood to leave, taking my dishes to the sink. As I walked out the door, I heard Kyle whisper, “It’s because she doesn’t belong here.”

  Anger swelled in my chest, threatening to spill over. His blatant disrespect towards Hallie and towards me felt personal, but I couldn’t muster up the energy to fight him. I glanced over my shoulder, scowling, and shot Kyle a look that I hoped would put him in his place. Our gazes met, just briefly, and Kyle looked away first, but he didn’t try to take it back. I could have hit him.

  I SLID DOWN AGAINST the wall of the basement gym. It was the only private, quiet place in the building, and I wanted nothing more than to get away from everyone for a moment, just to catch my breath. Tears pressed against my eyelids, threatening to spill over and never stop. I rested my head in my hands and took a swallow of air, trying to pull myself together, to ease the shame I felt burning like a hot iron in my stomach.

  My desire to run for the door a few moments earlier was gnawing at me, seeming to mock my decision to stay. All my legs wanted to do was take me on a run; run a straight line out of the station, home, where I could crawl into bed and scream into my pillow and never have to face these idiot, sexist men again. But no matter how much I ached to leave, a larger part of me refused. I couldn’t do it. Not after all this time, not after how hard I’d fought to be here.

  A light rap on the door made me look up. I started to stand, refusing to cry in front of the guys, but Tate Becker appeared, closing the door behind him. I wiped frantically at my eyes.

  “Don’t stand,” he said. “I need to check out your head.”

  “I’m fine, Captain Becker, but thanks for your concern.”

  “Call me Tate.”

  “I’m going to call you what everyone else calls you.”

  “Suit yourself,” he shrugged and grabbed a clean rag from the counter, turning on the tap to run warm water over it. He handed me the damp washcloth to put against my head, then sat down next to me against the wall.

  “It was inappropriate of them to do that,” he said.

  “It’s all part of initiation, right?”.

  “Chief Davis forbade those kinds of pranks six years ago.” Tate cleared his throat and looked over at me. “I’m sorry they did it.”

  “It’s not their fault I fell.” The shame was still heavy, anger and humiliation pounding in my chest. I wanted to be anywhere in the world more than I wanted to be right there having that conversation.

  “I should have been keeping an eye on them.”

  I scoffed and shook my head, pulling the rag away from the back of my neck. “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t treat me like I’m fragile.” I tossed the rag into the dirty laundry basket and stood up. Tate stared at me, but he didn’t move. “I can handle my own here, Captain. I don’t need you to be the moderator. I’m a big girl.”

  Without leaving him time to respond, I slammed the door behind me and made my way upstairs to crawl into bed, passing by the kitchen without a second glance. I didn’t bother changing into nightwear because I knew that it would only take time away from responding to a call. I wanted to be on my game; nothing would get in my way, not tonight.

  I shared the sleeping quarters with the rest of the guys, and that’s how I liked it, only because I was serious when I told Tate not to treat me differently. The men ignored me for the rest of the evening and well into the night. I couldn’t tell if that was better or worse than them actively being assholes. I kept my face in my pillow, and the blanket tucked securely around me, ignoring the shuffling of the guy’s bedtime routine, hoping, and praying that no one was preparing for another cruel prank.

  The night was mostly quiet, but I couldn’t sleep despite the stillness in the air. I wasn’t sure if it was the snores of the men around me, the stifling smell of dirty socks, or the fact that my uniform wasn’t the most comfortable of bedtime attire that kept me tossing and turning all night. When six a.m. broke the next morning, announced by the alarm clock next to Jake’s bunk ringing incessantly, I had never been so relieved to be free of work.

  “Shower?” Jake asked, swinging his legs over the bed. I shook my head and sat up, tossing the blankets from my legs as I placed my feet on the floor. Jake noticed it first, and I watched his eyes travel from my hips and down to my toes, a wary expression on his face. I looked down, eyes widening with horror at the blue, red, and orange stained the fabric of my uniform, turning it into an unkempt mess of bloody color that seeped into the fabric of my pants and even into the sheets on the bed.

  “What the fuck.”

  “Oh shit,” Jake said and ran his hand over the sheet where my legs had been all night. “Kool-Aid.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” I stood up, feeling itchy, dirty, and sticky. I rubbed my hands over the fabric on my legs to see if the stain would wipe off. It didn’t. Across the room, Porter and Tanner watched us, sniggering. I looked back at Jake, who shrugged helplessly.

  “I’m sorry, Hal, I would have warned you if they told me.”

  “You know what? It’s fine. At least they didn’t crack my head open this time.” Trying to act unscathed, I gathered the stained Kool-Aid sheets from my bed and stuffed them into the laundry chute, ignoring the stares, laughs, and head shakes of my fellow crew members.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to shower?” Jake asked, gathering a clean towel.

  “I’ll shower at home,” I muttered, anxious to be free of the men who hated me. I could only pray that these stupid stains would come out of the fabric; I looked like a clown, and I really didn’t have the desire to have to pay for a new set of uniform slacks. Seething, but trying to hold in the anger boiling beneath the surface, I grabbed my overnight bag and took a step towards the stairs. Someone knocked into me from behind, jolting me just enough that I tripped over my own foot and had to catch myself on the bed mattress.

  “Sorry,” Kyle yawned as he trudged past me, running one hand through his black hair. “Didn’t sleep well.”

  “Interesting, because you have the loudest snore in here.”

  He ignored me and went ahead to the bathroom, casually pulling off his shirt and dropping his pants. I blushed and looked away, but not before catching sight of a nicely sculpted, but mostly arrogant ass.

  I gathered up my things as quick as I could, wanting to be home more than I wanted to be there. My first shift had proved difficult, and it was hard to hold it to together. My pride was injured. I needed time to recoup.

  Downstairs, Tate was in the middle of making breakfast for everyone. The scent of bacon wafted from a sizzling pan, and toast was already laid out on the table. He was mixing some batter, a bag of flour open next to him, flour spread along the surface. I stood in the door for a moment and watched him, impressed by how easily he seemed to flit around the kitchen. A fireman and a cook, very nice.

  “Hey,” I said, breaking his concentration. He looked up and winked at me. There was a streak of flour across his face.

  “Are you going to stay for breakfast?”

  “It will be years before I ever touch a bag of flour again in my life.” I pulled a face and Tate chuckled, which made me smile. “So, I’m going home to find what’s left of my dignity before I return.” I turned to go, clutching my jacket tighter in my grip.

&nb
sp; “Hallie,” Tate said. I stopped and looked at him.

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m sorry about last night,” he said. “With the boys and their prank, I mean.”

  “I should have expected it.” I couldn’t find the courage to tell him about the Kool-Aid prank. If I planned to handle my own, it was time to start now.

  “I hope it doesn’t turn you off the job.”

  I hesitated before answering, but only briefly. “No. No man in this world is going to stop me from doing what I love. If that means more flour showers, then fine. I can take it.”

  I expected Tate to stick up for me again, to apologize, but he nodded his head, just once.

  “Good,” he said. “See you Monday then.”

  Chapter 8

  Tate

  “So, how did Hallie do on her first night with your boys?” Julia asked me later that night. We were curled up together on the couch, surfing TV channels for something decent to watch. I tossed some popcorn into my mouth and laughed.

  “Shit, woman.” I feigned shock. “So, you do know her name.”

  “I try not to,” Julia said. “But our department caught wind of that little gun debacle.”

  “She was great. She went in there by herself and stabilized the woman. At gunpoint.”

  “Good for her,” Julia said. I knew she was trying to sound sincere, but the pettiness in her voice gave her away.

  “Don’t hate her for doing her job. She’s a great asset to the team.”

  “I bet she’s much more than that,” Julia muttered. “Just give it a few weeks. She’ll be bitching about sexual harassment or unfair treatment, and she’ll bring the whole station down with her. Including you.”