to be the guy that has to tell his parents that he didn’t make it.
1, 2, 3, 4.
1, 2, 3, 4.
I keep count, not missing a single beat. I hear the paramedics in the distance. They’re closing in, but I refuse to lose him. I hear the distinct sound of his rib cracking, but I keep pushing. A broken rib will heal, but there’s no coming back if his heart was to give out.
1, 2, 3, 4.
Chief stands and waves down the ambulance, and as it comes to a screeching stop right behind us, the kid takes a deep, well-needed breath.
I instantly fall back, breathing a sigh of relief as his eyes fill with tears. I know he’s a kid and at sixteen years old would probably be horrified to be crying in front of a bunch of firemen and paramedics. But fuck, if I was in that situation, I’d be just as fucking scared. I can only imagine the thoughts rushing through his mind as his eyes grew heavy, and he started choking on the thick smoke.
The paramedics instantly rush in, checking him over and getting him into a recovery position as Chief brings a hand down onto my shoulder. “Good job, man,” he says. “But it’s not over yet.”
I nod, and Chief offers me his hand. I take it, and he hauls me up off the ground before we sprint over to the truck and start pulling out our second hose.
With the guys from trucks two and three already on the case, it takes only minutes for the blaze to finally sizzle out. We stare on, letting the last of the water rush over the charred remains of what used to be a warehouse.
Once the job is done, Chief surveys the site and comes back holding three empty jerry cans, telling us exactly what we needed to know. This was intentional. That kid was put in there intentionally, bound and scared, while some bastard decided that his time was up.
I shake my head, the heaviness of the evening washing over me in waves.
Now, as an official crime scene, the cops take over, and the jerry cans are taken for evidence. Our job here is over, leaving us to get back to the dinner we left sitting on the table at the station. Though, we’re going to have to make a stop because that shit will be well and truly cold by now.
After cleaning everything up, the boys and I climb back into the truck and haul ass out of here. We’ll make a quick stop for something to eat and then head back to the fire station to check over our truck and prepare it for the next call out.
Jet puts in a call to the Black Widows MC bar and orders us all a steak and veg to go. By the time we pull up outside, there’s already one of the bar staff standing out front with our meals packed and ready for us to hit the road.
Ax climbs out to grab our dinner and as I wait with a growling stomach, I can't help but glance across the road to Zoey’s store. Amelia’s car is parked out front, and I’m not the only one to have noticed that the lights are still on. Jet is practically drooling as he stares across the road, his leg bouncing as he tries to convince himself to keep his ass in his seat.
I grin to myself. Those girls are idiots. They should have called it a night hours ago and taken their asses home. Don’t they know that the bar across the street can get a little rowdy on a Friday night?
I’ve been with Amelia for a week now, and it’s been fucking everything. I don’t know how it happened, but she came shooting into my life like a fucking rocket and blew up my world in the best way possible.
I’ve seen her nearly every day since painting her girls’ rooms, but tonight I’ll be on shift, which honestly is probably the best thing for her. I don’t want to crowd her. Her walls are still up, but every time I see her, I somehow manage to chip away at them.
I don’t know how I was lucky enough to have her agree to bring the girls away with the boys and me next weekend to our cabins on the lake. It’s going to be incredible. Though, I haven't exactly shared that news with the boys yet. They've been looking forward