Chapter 5
Hailey
“Girl, you look like ass,” Freddy said as I walked up to our rig.
After two days of moping in bed, I’d decided to pull myself together as best as I could and force myself into work. My body still ached, and I wanted nothing more than to retreat to my nest, but I couldn't avoid life for much longer.
Not without raising suspicion.
The suffering had eased, but only slightly. I could stand and go about my daily tasks well enough, but there was a deep ache in my chest and an overwhelming sense that something was wrong.
“I may have had a little too much fun with Alice.” I laughed, but it hurt.
Worse, I knew that was a pitiful excuse, but it had to be a believable one for the time being.
Why was everything so bright? My eyes ached, and the California sun certainly didn’t help.
Sunglasses. Remember sunglasses next time.
“Ooof. A night of clubbing with Alice will do some long-lasting damage. The guys from Station Thirteen went out with her a few months ago, and I'm pretty sure they're still recovering.”
“I don’t think that’s because of the drinking…” I pointed out, trying not to smirk.
Freddy’s eyes widened as he fought a smile, eventually breaking down into a lopsided grin. “Those poor fucks.” He chuckled, rolling his eyes. “Actually, I don’t know if they’re lucky or unlucky, to be honest.”
“Oh, I’m sure they had the time of their lives.”
I slid into the passenger seat, tilting my head back against the headrest with a sigh. It was too early to be this tired already.
“Are you sure it’s a hangover?” Freddy asked as he hauled himself into the driver's seat and started fiddling with the radio.
“What else could it be?”
“Stomach flu? Dive bars aren’t exactly the cleanest of places, are they?”
He had a point. There were quite a few sticky surfaces at the bar…
still, I knew that wasn’t why I was feeling so monumentally crappy.
There was no way in hell I was going to tell him that it was because I had fucked up and bonded with a total stranger, though.
Freddy was understanding, but no one was that understanding.
“I’ll get over it, and we’ve got work to do,” I told him, leaning forward, rubbing the back of my aching neck.
Freddy looked me over with concern. “If you start to decline, let me know. I can always drive a student around for the day.”
I snorted. “Isn’t that your personal nightmare?”
“Oh, it is, but for your health, I would endure it.” He huffed out a long-suffering sigh.
Freddy acted like dealing with newbies was the worst thing around, but I knew that, deep down, he loved it. If he hadn’t become an EMT, I could have totally seen him becoming a teacher, maybe even a professor of medicine.
Throughout the day, I managed to distract myself with work.
Helping patients, stocking the rig, it all helped distance me from the symptoms. Between taking care of a six-year-old with a broken leg and elderly patients with heart issues, I was able to divert myself from the hollow feeling deep in my gut.
Every now and again, I had to stop myself and pull up the collar of my shirt to ensure that my bond mark was invisible. Mentally, I made a note to figure out a better way to hide it.
But all in all, the day was manageable. I didn’t want to go on like this, but I felt like I’d made it through the worst of it.
By the time Freddy dropped me back at the depot, I was optimistic that I would be able to get over this separation sickness just fine.
“Girl, it’s been weeks, and you’re still sick,” Freddy said with concern, handing me a cup of coffee, which I gladly inhaled.
“I know. This bug just won’t leave me alone,” I grumbled.
It wasn't a bug; I still wasn't going to admit that to him, and both of those things were causing a damn problem.
After several days, the symptoms were starting to grind on me. At first, I could power through them. It was just an inconvenience, and I had to get through it to continue living my life the way I always had.
Now, it was starting to wear on me.
“You need to see a doctor. Maybe get some strong antibiotics.”
“No, I just need to power through,” I whined.
Seeing a doctor was the last thing I wanted to do. Not just because I wasn't particularly fond of seeing them outside of work, but because it would mean confronting the reality of my situation.
Denial, population: me.
Freddy laughed. “I know you make a crap patient, but you’ve got to. Your night out was like what, two weeks ago? What if you got a nasty infection from an unsanitary surface?”
He shuddered dramatically, and I rolled my eyes at him. But, unfortunately, I couldn’t deny that I’d been feeling like shit for some time now, and…
It was getting worse.
Slowly but surely, the separation symptoms weren’t improving but gnawing on me more and more. Everything I’d read said it would get better in time, so why was I feeling worse by the day?
Deep down, a small part of me knew that seeing a doctor would be for the best, but hiding my head in the sand felt like the more comfortable option.
Getting a medical opinion would mean facing the stupid mistake I made, telling someone what was going on, and having to look dead in the face that I was bonded to an alpha I wasn’t going to see—ever again.
My muscles tensed, my jaw actually cracking. The visceral hatred I felt toward Preston was overpowering.
I was so inexplicably mad at him for biting me, even though I had bitten him as well. Worse, despite that rage, I still wanted him. Everything in my body demanded to see him again, to hold him, to smell him, to keep him close.
And to feel him inside me again, finally easing this ache.
My omega instincts wanted him desperately, even though my mind revolted at the idea. Usually, I was far more in touch with my omega instincts. To be so at odds with them was jarring, to say the least.
Sitting in the silent rig, not looking at Freddy, I was fighting against my very nature, and my nature was winning.
If I didn't find a solution soon, I would go crawling on my hands and knees to that goddamn convict camp and beg for even a speck of time with the degenerate criminal I’d accidentally bonded.
The radio crackled to life. “Freddy! You’re needed on this,” a sweet, familiar voice said over the speaker.
Lucy was a dispatcher we had worked with many times. I had never actually met her in person, but I had spoken to her many, many times.
“Of course, Luce, we are dispatching now.” He put the radio down and turned to me. “Let’s get to work! Maybe we will see some cute firefighters today?” Freddy beamed, throwing the ambulance into drive and peeling out of the depot.
I glowered at my colleague. The last thing I wanted was more handsome firefighters in my life; they were nothing but trouble. But he didn’t know that.
Two weeks of sickness, and it wasn’t going away. Glaring at my knees, I silently cursed Preston. With any luck, he was sitting in the convict firefighter camp, feeling just as bad as I was.
“Actually, speaking of firefighters,” Freddy started. “I wrote up the reports from the Amhurst apartment fire a few weeks ago. They need to go to Walker. Could you do that?”
Furrowing my brow, I folded my arms and glared. “Why are you asking me?”
“Because you’re cute, and he’s way less likely to get pissed at you over how late they are… Please? I’ll buy you a donut!”
A laugh escaped me. It was true that Walker was way less likely to be mad at me than Freddy.
Everyone at the station considered me a friend, and as an omega, they tended to be more lenient with me. Sometimes it was irritating, but other times, it was useful.
“Fine, I'll do it, but I want a donut and a hot chocolate. One of those fancy ones with whipped cream and chocolate shavings and everything. The works.”
“Done!” He reached into the glovebox as he drove, pulling out a file and handing it over to me without looking away from the road.
I took it, sighing as I shook my head. “I'll do it after this call.”
Grinning, Freddy leaned toward me. “Has anyone ever told you you're amazing and pretty and smart and funny?”
I laughed, rolling my eyes yet again. “Make it two donuts. Jelly-filled.”