Trapp
He had decided, upon returning to the fire station after his suspension, that the transition from being someone who was well-liked and admired to .
. . whatever it was he’d become, required a complete personal realignment.
An attitude adjustment, something his father had been telling him he’d needed since he was nine years old.
He wasn’t asking for special treatment. But it was impossible to not notice the difference.
Eighteen holes of golf had not been enough to convince Shay Marsh that the doctor running his urgent care clinic needed to pack up her shoddy little bag and get out of town.
“It sounds to me like you’re both being ridiculous,” the shifter had unhelpfully offered, as Grayson grumbled about how long a round of golf took.
“When can’t you start playing squash like a normal person?”
Shay ignored both Hemmings for a moment, taking his swing, turning back to them with a dramatic eye roll.
“You’re both whiny bitches. Are you aware of that?
When I agreed to be in this wedding party, I thought I was going to be taken on luxury golf weekends, maybe a party bus, a night away from the kids.
Something glamorous. I didn’t realize I was signing up to play Hemming family therapist on the back nine. ”
“It would take a lot of fucking golf for that.”
Trapp had scowled as his brother and his friend laughed.
“What are you saying?” Trapp demanded, fists tightening around his driver. “So the doctors at your facility can just go off on their own, absent of oversight, causing trouble with whatever independent agency in town they feel like picking on?”
Shay had only rolled his eyes again. “I don’t like that any sort of complaint was placed with emergency services without my prior knowledge, and I will be following up on that.
But as for the rest of it . . . you have an existing personal relationship with her, Trapp.
One that’s coloring your interactions. I think it’s fair to say that’s true on both sides of the equation. ”
“Why didn’t you mention this is someone you were involved with?” Grayson demanded for the tenth time since Trapp’s telling of his checkered history with Adriana Brunelli, clearly put out that he hadn’t known every detail of the story before the golf outing with his friend.
“She used me,” Trapp clarified for Shay’s benefit, just in case the shifter had been more focused on chipping up to the green than the details of his narrative. “And you’re okay with having someone like that working for you?!”
“It’s not like you’d be the first sap to be used by a pretty girl in school,” Shay shrugged.
“And if moral character was that important to me, I wouldn’t be friends with this asshole.
I don’t know what else you want me to say, Trapp.
I will be having a conversation with my employee, but I don’t think your supervisor handled it any differently than I might have done. ”
“You shouldn’t work with people you’re fucking,” Grayson agreed, taking his place at the tee as Trapp sputtered indignantly and Shay laughed.
“You are the biggest fucking hypocrite! How the fuck do you find your way to your office every day for as delusional as you are? You know what? I hope this whole engagement is one big, long fuck you honeytrap Vanessa has been planning since the day you took that other girl on vacation. Non-refundable deposits, custom water feature, all the businesses in town . . . she’s out to ruin you, and it’s what you fucking deserve.
I can’t wait for us to be all lined up in the moon temple, you stuffed into your custom suit like the baboon ballsack you are, and then nothing.
She’s halfway to Tijuana with all your money. And I’m not fucking anyone!”
“That’s certainly not what I’ve heard,” Shay laughed, climbing back into the cart.
“But I’m listening to you, Trapp. I’m sorry that you’ve had such a bad interaction with the new clinic doctor since she started.
My professional advice is to stop trying to have a pissing match with her every time you walk through the doors.
It sounds to me like you both have the exact same sort of vendetta against each other, and it’s not going to get better unless you’re willing to call a truce.
Let me think on it for a few days. My personal advice is answer your godsdamn phone when someone calls you for a reference, because this could’ve all been avoided. ”
Fine.
His head had been a mess since that very first day the ambulance had pulled up to the urgent care clinic. It was hard to reconcile that he’d been upset about a break-up only a few short weeks ago, because now his thoughts were firmly mired in the long-ago past.
He hated her, and it made his cock hard.
Trapp couldn’t reconcile it. He was furious with himself for squandering his slutty forty-eight hours on his break-up with Julia, for he’d never needed his cock sucked as badly as he did that day he’d pulled the ambulance away from the clinic, after arguing with her, after smelling her, his balls vibrating with need.
He wanted nothing more than to take himself in hand as Adriana knelt before him and slap the sneer off her face with its length before filling her mouth.
He’d never before been so angry to have an erection.
He had no one in his corner, and that meant he needed to be above reproach.
He would be immaculate in both performance and comportment, his field diagnostics to the letter of protocol.
He would do his job to the best of his ability, regardless of how much being back on the road day in and day out wore him down, regardless of how many times a week it would require seeing her, regardless of how many times a day it required jerking off.
His charts would be perfect. Let them find something to complain about then.
It was with that mindset that he returned to work.
The fire station, he repeated to himself, leaving his brother’s house.
Not the firehouse. The latter implied a home, internal propaganda that was meant to foster unity and camaraderie, essential when one relied on their co-workers to not fuck up on the job and get one killed.
But on the job was the point. It’s called healthy boundaries, Trapp.
He didn’t need to leave forty minutes early for his shift, ensuring that he had the time to stop at the coffee shop and pick up the to-go carafes for the station, something he’d been doing for years, an account he himself had set up with Xavier.
Trapp would text ahead of his arrival, and the fire station’s order would be ready for him when he arrived, superseding the other patrons waiting in line.
There was an elaborate coffee machine on his brother’s countertop, one that involved grinding the expensive, imported beans he located in a vacuum-sealed canister and foaming his own milk, but the result was just as good as the fanciest latte on the Beanery’s menu.
When he arrived at the station that morning, his coffee secure in the stainless-steel bottle he’d found in Grayson’s cupboard, several of his co-workers were already standing around, mugs in hand, befuddled by the absence of a carafe box on the counter.
“Trapp, is the coffee coming soon?” The minotaur who asked looked a bit nervous to hear the answer, taking in Trapp’s starched shirt, collar buttoned to the very top, his boots buffed to a shine.
“Sorry. I didn’t stop at the coffee shop today.”
“But . . .” The rebuttal hung there, his stationmates staring in unison, as if their slack jaws would voice what had been left unspoken. But you always bring in coffee. “But it’s vanilla nut day,” the minotaur finished weakly.
He shrugged again, not waiting to hear their complaints. After all, picking up coffee wasn’t an entry on the official chore rotation. He didn’t ask for special treatment from the station brass, didn’t expect it. And you don’t need to give special treatment to anyone else.
He’d barely taken a sip of his own coffee when their first call came in.
Trapp paused on his way out of the station house, rolling his eyes before the kitchen.
Four grown fucking adults, defeated by a percolator.
He wasn’t going to the Beanery, but he didn’t need to fully punish his co-workers, he reminded himself, assembling the basket and stem himself, shaking his head on his way out the door as Billups exclaimed in dismay over the smell of the grounds from a bag the station had purchased back before Trapp had taken the fire exam.
“Let’s get out of here, Oleg. Before they realize I didn’t bring in any groceries, either.”
He could tell it would be a DOA as the ambulance approached the scene of the accident, only just called in, but clear that the car had been there for a while.
The early morning hour was still hazy with indistinct light, and the road steamed.
The car had been there long enough that it was no longer steaming, and the steel utility pole it had hit had nearly severed the front end of the chassis. You still have a job to do.
Trapp was in the vehicle, checking for any signs of life within, when he heard Oleg retching into the grass, realizing this was likely his trainee’s first brush with the unfortunate reality of their job.
“Get it out of your system before LE pulls up,” he murmured to the troll, already able to see the flash of blue lights in the distance.
“Lividity has already set in. Injuries incompatible with life,” he relayed to the officer once they’d arrived, ensuring Oleg was close enough to witness the report and transfer of custody.