Chapter 4
JJ
He’d called me bright and early this morning to ask if I could cover his shift today.
I agreed, and then he asked why I’d texted so late.
He knows me too well to think it was just to return his call.
But by that time, I was over it and didn’t want to talk about it.
We got off the phone after promising to get a beer together—which we may or may not do. Par for the course for us.
I can’t tell if it was a good thing or a bad thing showing up at the firehouse bright and early this morning, though…
to see Miles driving by with his rambunctious nephew waving wildly in the back seat.
It was cute as hell. Honestly, it happens more often than one would think, so it wasn’t out of the ordinary.
What was, though, was seeing the guy I hooked up with last night in the front seat driving.
That threw me a little, even if there was a reason for him to be here.
Had I not noticed the kid in the back, I’d be worried.
And had he not told me about his nephew’s obsession with fire trucks, I’d also be worried.
There are a lot of firehouses in this city, and what are the odds he finds mine by chance?
Weird sort of coincidence, if you ask me, because this isn’t near his house.
“Hey, you good?” Dylan calls out from the doorway.
“Yeah, good.” I finally make my way inside, after standing in the driveway for too long, staring after Miles’ car that’s long gone.
“You working today?” he asks with a frown. He’s been here a few years. Older guy that should probably be retired by now but loves the job too much and has nothing to go home to.
“Filling in for AJ.”
“Oh yeah, I think I remember him saying something about that.”
“How was the night?”
“Quiet.”
“Fuck,” I mutter, heading up to the locker room to put my stuff away and change.
Quiet nights make for busy days. It’s going to be rough as hell today; I can feel it in my bones. The one good thing about today is I’m not the LT on shift since I’m picking up for AJ and there’s already an LT here—Gage. He’s kind of a dick, but it’s one shift. Should be fine.
After I change, I head to the common room. A couple of the guys are playing cards at the small table by the glass window that overlooks the bay while a few others are sitting on the couch, watching some old black and white show on the big screen hanging on the wall.
The pool table sits in the far back, the balls scattered all over, which tells me someone was playing and got pissed off that they were losing—or they got an alarm in the middle of it and didn’t want to go back to it just yet.
99 is one of the nicer firehouses I’ve seen.
I like it here and haven’t once considered transferring.
“JJ,” Gage says when he spots me coming into the room. “You’re with me today, right?”
“That’s right.”
“We going to be good?” he asks, raising his brows.
He has a cocky face. He can’t help it, I know that, but maybe if he were a little nicer, it’d be easier to not get pissed off when I see him. But if there’s anything I’m good at, it’s being the bigger man at work.
“No reason not to be,” I say, holding out my hand.
He shakes it, then heads downstairs.
“Don’t mind him,” Lewis says as he throws down a card into the middle pile, not taking his eyes from his hand. “Needs more coffee before he finds his personality.”
Lewis is also kind of a dick and says shit he shouldn’t. Even if we don’t like someone, we’re supposed to work as a team, and negative remarks are frowned upon. But Lewis is Lewis… and we all ignore it because we know he doesn’t mean it. It’s just who he is. He speaks from his grumpy little heart.
“All good, Lewis,” I say, heading to the kitchen in search of food.
As always, the pastry boxes from Fifi are laid out on the counter with only a few items left since she drops them off so early.
She owns the Rise and Shine Bakery and Cafe that’s just down the street and delivers pastries to us twice a day—every day.
She insists on feeding us, since we “risk our lives.” It’s nice to know we’re appreciated, but she goes a little overboard.
Still, it’s the perfect pick-me-up when you’re dragging ass.
I spot one of the giant cinnamon rolls left, so I snag it before getting some coffee.
Gage eyes me as he passes across the room, heading toward the back offices.
He’s holding a grudge because I got LT over him.
Even though he has it now, he can’t get over the fact that he didn’t get it first—three years ago when we both applied.
It’s stupid, honestly, but that’s just how some guys are.
I’ve taken two bites and one sip of my coffee before the alarm sounds. We all pause what we’re doing, every guy in here looking like a statue as we wait for the announcement. Engine 99 and Truck 99 are called, but Rescue stays, so I don’t have to go out—yet.
“Good luck!” I shout as I pull out a chair and sit to finish my breakfast.
The firehouse is quiet with Gage off doing his own thing.
I’m not sure who else is on shift for rescue or where they are, but I’m sure they’re around and will be where they need to be when they need to be.
They could be sleeping if they’re on a long shift.
Catching up on paperwork. Working out. Cleaning gear.
Regardless of what they’re doing, I know I’m not alone, but I take the rare moment of being alone in the room while I eat.
I doubt I’ll get this at any point for the rest of the day.
I get halfway through this monster cinnamon roll before the alarm goes off again and Rescue 3 is announced to assist with a multi-car crash and a vehicle needing the jaws of life. They announce three ambulances from other areas en route, because ours is already out.
I get up, leaving everything as it is because it’s seconds that save lives.
My gear is on quickly, and I hop into the truck at the same time Gage, Denver, and Marco are getting in.
We move through traffic quickly, making it on scene where police are already waiting.
Ambulance sirens wail in the distance, and I know they’ll be seconds behind us. Not a problem, since they need us to get the people out before they can do anything.
“JJ, Marco—you’re on the middle vehicle extrication so EMS can get access as soon as they’re on scene. JJ, you take lead. Denver, stabilize that Caravan. I’ll handle the last one,” Gage orders.
I don’t take his tone personally; I’m not here to make friends or be offended.
I’m here to help save lives. So, I get into action, grabbing my equipment, working like a well-oiled machine with Marco, even though I hardly work with the guy.
If you’re good at setting your shit aside and knowing what you need to do on shift, you can work with anyone without a single problem because we all know what we need to do.
The driver’s door is smashed in, and I get to work prepping while Marco checks for leaks and disconnects the battery.
“Hello, ma’am,” I call out to the unconscious woman inside.
“I’m with the Fire Department. Name’s Jericho.
” I speak loudly, but she doesn’t move. Bruising is already starting around her neck area, and there’s a gash on her hairline, above her left eye.
The blood disappears into her dark hair, but the wet sheen tells me there’s a lot there.
“We’re going to use the jaws of life to get you out of there.
It’s going to be loud, but I promise you are not in any danger. ”
After his check, Marco stabilizes the car with wedges, and then he’s at my side. Ambulances have just pulled up, and I faintly hear people crying and screaming in the distance while the crowd gathers and police try to keep them away.
We get to work with the spreader and cutter to get the roof off, the whining of metal a familiar sound. I get into the vehicle when the roof is peeled back enough, putting my weight on the passenger side to assess the victim quickly. I’m being handed a neck brace that I grab blindly.
“Miss, I’m with the Fire Department. Can you look at me?
” I ask as I brace the woman’s neck, not feeling a pulse, but I can’t declare her dead.
These EMTs need to do all they can to save her.
She doesn’t respond, but I can’t focus on that at the moment.
“The EMTs are here. We’re going to get you out of the car and to the hospital. Just stay with me.”
The bruising around her neck is worse, and I note the smudge of blood beneath her nose. The gash on her head isn’t bleeding. Pumping hearts produce blood from wounds. I won’t think about that though.
“You good in there?” Marco asks.
“Good,” I call back, keeping my gaze on the woman.
I feel it in my chest, but I don’t want to admit it.
I work quickly and carefully with EMS to get the woman out of the car and onto the stretcher.
She’s in the back of the ambo in seconds and they’re off to the hospital where I already know what the outcome will be.
Though I stopped checking in a long time ago.
I stopped keeping track of those I failed.
The number is too high, and it’s too much weight to put on myself.
But I don’t forget them. I never forget them.
Tow trucks come for the vehicles, taking them away after all the occupants are on their way to the hospital.
We cover the spills, sweep up the mess, and then we’re driving back to the station to wait for the next one.
The energy on the way back is never the same on the way out—especially when someone has died.
But I do what I do for a reason. It’s the least of what I deserve after what I did.