CHAPTER THIRTY COLLINS
CHAPTER THIRTY
COLLINS
“How you feeling?” Roman asks me when we get back into the ambulance after three calls back-to-back.
“Tired,” I huff out as I grab my seat belt and buckle myself in, “but I’ll survive.”
“Why don’t we swing by and grab something to eat? You haven’t eaten anything all day.”
“There hasn’t been time.” I look over at him. “Don’t go soft on me.”
“I’m not going soft on you.” He chuckles. “I’m just making sure if your man comes around asking me questions about if you’re eating that I’m not lying to him. I don’t want him to kick my ass.”
“He’s not going to kick your ass.” I roll my eyes at him as he drives down Main Street. “Let’s get a sandwich from the bakery, and we can have donuts.”
“Is that you telling me you want donuts?”
“Maybe.” I try to hide my smile, but I can’t when he parks. “Yes.”
He laughs as we start walking to the bakery.
I look to the side and see my father on the sidewalk, as if he were waiting for me. “Um.” I reach in my back pocket to grab my wallet. “Can you order me a chicken salad on a croissant and whatever donut is good?”
“I got it.” Roman looks over at my father. “You’ll be okay?”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” I really don’t want Roman to hear any of the conversation we are going to have.
“I’ll be watching,” he says, and goes into the bakery.
I turn and see a couple of people looking my father’s way as he crosses the street to get to me. Not surprising, he’s wearing the same clothes as he was wearing last night.
“Collins.”
I try to ignore all the eyes that are probably aimed at us. “What do you want now?”
“Is that any way to talk to your father?” he asks me, his shoulders back, his head held high like he hasn’t done anything bad in his life.
“I’m really tired, and I’m working right now, so if we can speed this along . . .” I try to stand as far away from him as I can, but not so far that people can hear what he’s saying.
“Wow.” He puts one hand to his chest as if I shot him. “The lack of respect you have for me is unheard of.”
“The lack of respect I have for you?” I’m not sure if I heard him right. “What have you done to make me respect you?” I shake my head. “Actually, scratch that. I don’t care. I don’t want to have this conversation. Why don’t you just forget all about me?”
“Yeah, you want us to forget about you now that you’re sleeping in a mansion.” His hand falls from his chest to his side, and my stomach gets tight.
“I’m not sleeping in a mansion,” I hiss at him.
He rolls his eyes at me. “Please, you slept there last night. You’ve been sleeping there all fucking week. He’s driving you to work and then back to his house.”
“He wouldn’t have to drive me to and from his house if someone”—I point at him—“hadn’t sliced my tires.
Do you know it’s going to cost me four hundred dollars?
Four hundred dollars that I don’t have.” I throw my hands up.
I know I should keep my cool. I know I shouldn’t be making a scene. This will only fuel the gossip in town.
“You are so ungrateful. I did you a favor.”
“A favor?” It’s like he’s not even speaking English.
“Yeah, I made it so that man takes care of you. You’re welcome. Now you have to do me a favor. I need five hundred dollars.”
“I don’t have it,” I retort, feeling as if I’m about to burst into tears from the frustration of this conversation.
“In the past months, I’ve given you eleven hundred dollars, a thousand of which was stolen with the forged check, which made my rent bounce, and then my bank charged me an additional forty-three dollars.
Plus the four hundred I have to come up with now to put on my tires. ”
“Well, ask your boyfriend to lend you money.” He smacks his lips. “He looks like he really likes you, so he’ll give it to you, and then you can give it to me.” He smiles. “Make everyone happy.”
“I will not.” My body shakes with rage. I’ve never thought about how much I hated him until right this minute.
“Fine,” he says. “By the way, your mother and I will be staying at your place for a couple of days. Maybe a week.” The way he just gives me this information, as if it’s no big deal, as if he’s telling me, as if he has the right, makes my blood boil.
“Maybe a little longer. The water in our trailer isn’t working anymore. ”
“No, you are not,” I hiss at him.
“You won’t even be there, so what difference is it to you?”
“You will not stay in my house, and if you do—”
“What are you going to do? Hey?” He advances toward me, his eyes filled with rage. I don’t usually stand up to him.
“Collins.” Roman walks out with two bags in his hand. His eyes are narrowed on my father. “Let’s go.”
“You will not go to my house,” I tell my father firmly, before turning my back to get in the ambulance.
“Fine. Then we’ll show up at Daddy Warbucks’s house, and he’ll take us in. Actually, now that I think of it”—my father puts his finger to his chin—“it’s time we have a chat, man-to-man.”
I whip back around. “Stay away from him—” I stop talking when I spot Brock behind him, coming toward us, a look of pure fury on his face. I move past my father to intercept him.
“Collins.” Brock’s voice is tight as he looks over my shoulder. I follow his gaze. My father avoids looking at Brock. He just saunters off down the street, as if he does not have a care in the fucking world. I can’t help but hang my head for a second before looking back up at Brock.
“Brock, I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you,” I start nervously. “I’m not avoiding you. I was on calls all morning.” Stinging starts in my eyes, and I really want this day to be fucking over already.
“I don’t care about that,” he replies. “You okay? You look a little—”
“Yeah, I didn’t get much sleep last night. Are you going to be at the shop when I get off shift? I can come in, and we can discuss the bill.”
“Yeah, but it’s not a rush. You can pay me when you can.”
“I don’t know if I can ever thank you enough.” I close my eyes. “I wish I didn’t have to take the handout, I really do, but I’m a little strapped for cash.”
“Why?”
I tilt my head.
“You don’t need to tell me why. I know why. You need to cut the snake off at the head.”
“Yeah,” I agree with him, defeated, “but that snake has twelve heads and every single time I think I cut one off, another one grows.”
“Well, anyway, the good news is your car is ready. I’ll have one of the boys drop it off with the keys.”
“But I didn’t make a payment.”
“I told you, don’t worry about it, we’ll figure it out,” he assures me. He starts toward the bakery. “You deserve better,” he adds over his shoulder, a smile on his face.
“Hey,” Roman calls to me from the driver’s seat of the ambulance, “hurry your ass up and come and eat before we get another call.”
“Coming.” I climb into the passenger seat.
I finish my lunch in the nick of time. We get another call, and that leads to another call, and it’s just before three when we finally drive the rig back into the station.
I open the door and practically crawl out.
I’m walking up the steps when Burke comes in with the captain.
“Collins, we need to see you in my office.”
The hair on the back of my neck stands up. Roman looks at me, confused. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” I tell him, trying to ignore the way my heart is hammering in my chest.
I walk up the stairs and step into the office. Burke sits in the chair in front of the captain’s desk.
“Sit,” Scooter tells me, folding his hands together on the desk.
I take the other chair. My body feels like it’s going to collapse. “Is everything okay?” I ask him, then turn to Burke.
“You tell us,” Burke replies. “We heard someone slashed your tires yesterday.”
“Um, yeah, but—”
“You didn’t come and tell me,” Scooter states.
“It’s not a big deal.” I try to get my voice not to tremble. I can’t break down and tell him it was my father. Who the fuck in their right mind would admit that fact out loud?
“Someone vandalized one of my paramedic’s cars, and you think it’s not a big deal? You are supposed to be safe doing your job.”
“Captain,” I say softly, “I am safe.”
“And I have to find out from Burke that three of your tires were slashed.” Burke nods his head slowly.
“Captain, honestly, I wasn’t keeping it from you. I just didn’t think anything of it. I figured that a couple of kids in town were up to some mischief.”
“Is that really what you thought?” Burke asks me.
I can feel my face flush, knowing I probably shouldn’t lie to a police officer, but I don’t have any fucking choice. “Yeah. It’s fine, though, I’ve got it covered with Brock.” I run my hands down the front of my work pants. “I’m sorry I didn’t bring it to your attention. I just . . .”
I can tell Scooter has other things to say to me, but he keeps them to himself. “You have other things on your mind.” He raises his eyebrows. “Let me know if you need anything.”
I take that as my cue to get up, and I fly out of the chair. “Will do.” I glance at Burke. “Have a good day.” I practically run out of the room.
I won’t ever do that again. The next time, I’m not hiding anything from them, no matter how they look at me afterward.