Shock Advised (Kilgore Fire #1) (23 page)

“It’s in my pocket,” I said with a certainty.

She must’ve read it in my eyes or the posture of my body, because she aimed the rifle once again.

At my head.

I started to get sick to my stomach.

Not because death was staring at me but because of what my death would do to the people that I loved.

I just hoped that when she shot me, I didn’t have to live the rest of my life on a freakin’ ventilator or something, paralyzed from the waist down.

That’d be the pits.

Never being able to enjoy Mia’s warm…

“What are you doing?” Lynn screamed, spittle flying out of her mouth in her haste to get the words out.

I blinked, coming back to myself and the situation I was in and pushing thoughts of Mia’s hot, tight pussy and how much it would suck if I couldn’t have it any more, out of my head.

I looked down and noticed I’d managed to back myself up behind the bed of the truck, a much better position than the one I started in with just the open windows of the cab between me and her.

“I thought you wanted me to come to you,” I said.

“I do,” she said stiffly.

I winced and started moving.

I never actually realized just how awkward it was to walk with your hands in the air.

It wasn’t that it was difficult…just weird.

I made my way up the front lawn, calculating what kind of damage the bullet in the AR-15 she was holding would do to me this close up.

It’d surely kill me.

I wouldn’t have to worry about being a vegetable.

“Go into the garage. Then into the kitchen,” she ordered, backing away from me.

I did as I was told, following in between the two cars that were parked there.

I tried not to look at the Impala.

I really did, but it was like a train wreck.

I couldn’t
not
look at it.

There was white paint covering the majority of the right side, and the entire front end was smashed in.

It was a wonder that the damn thing had been able to make it home. It didn’t look like it’d make it a fucking block.

“Move,” I was poked in the back with the gun.

Needless to say, I moved.

When I got into the house, my first thought was that she’d cleaned.

Lynn didn’t clean.

And then I saw all the boxes.

She was moving.

More like running
, my subconscious said.

I linked my hands at the back of my neck, trying not to think about how they burned, and turned to face her.

“You thought you were so funny, bringing that ring here. I left that with him. He deserved to have it back after he’d given it to me with the news that he was divorcing me,” she sneered. “Where is it?”

I gritted my teeth.

“Left front pocket,” I said.

She smiled and moved forward, and I tried to hold the smile inside.

Just a little closer. Come on.

She froze when something loud banged outside and turned, making a big mistake in my favor.

I moved lightening quick, pushing the gun down and bringing my left elbow down on her right forearm.

She cried out in pain as the bones of her wrist snapped.

I caught the rifle before it could fall all the way to the floor and had it turned on her before she sank all the way to the ground while cradling her arm.

I didn’t have a single fuck to give as I kicked her down onto her face and proceeded to tie her arms behind her back with a piece of fabric that I’d yanked off the apron that was hanging next to the door.

She cried out in pain, but I chose to ignore that, too.

Searching her body and finding her clean, I kicked open the door that led to the garage and then hit the button that lifted the big door up, not at all surprised to find three, black-clad figures pointing their guns at me.

I set the gun down on the concrete floor of the garage and then raised my hands above my head once again.

“You okay?” One asked.

Nico.

I nodded. “I am.”

“That Lynn Sims?” Another asked.

I nodded again. “It is.”

He nodded and directed me out with hand signals.

I would’ve followed him, too, but a flash of brown caught my eye as I saw the little reporter that watched me find the ring, dash around the corner of the living room.

I winced.

“The reporter’s here,” I said. “She just went into the back hallway.”

Two of the men in front of me split off in opposite directions while Nico called it in.

“Got a runner heading towards the back,” Nico said into the mic at his shoulder.

I walked along the side of the garage to the driveway and noticed that the entire street was now lined with police cars.

Down the street beyond the police cars sat the ambulance, far enough away that Winter and Baylee wouldn’t get caught in the crossfire if the situation deteriorated.

“You can put your hands down,” Nico said. “Just head towards Downy.”

I found the redheaded officer in front of one of the SUVs with plans spread out on the hood in front of him, and headed straight for him.

Right about that time two more black clad figures rounded the house with the cute reporter in tow.

“I didn’t do it!” She cried. “I was just here to say I was sorry!”

Funny, if she’d done that earlier, it might’ve been believable.

***

“I had absolutely nothing to do with anybody’s murder,” Candice Paige, the reporter for the Kilgore Times, said. “I was just there to talk to her.”

“Why?” Luke asked, sitting back in his seat.

“Because she had a lot of good stories. But I told her I didn’t want anymore. After yesterday, seeing how all the KFD team members worked together with civilians to find that firefighter’s ring…well, I just couldn’t do it anymore. I came to tell her I was done,” she said.

A commotion at my back had me turning in time to see Mia barreling towards me.

She was dressed in her scrubs, and it looked as if she’d dropped everything to get to me. She only had half a face of make up on.

“Tai!” She cried, tears clogging her voice.

“I’m okay,” I said, catching her and pulling her into my arms.

Her mouth pressed into my neck as her arms went over my shoulders. My arms went around her ribcage, as I held on tight.

“I’m okay,” I said again as I held her small, trembling body.

“You scared the daylights out of me,” she said.

I squeezed her tighter.

“I’m okay,” I said again.

“Don’t you ever do that to us again!” Mia growled.

My brows went up and I set her away from me.

“Us?” I asked.

She pointed behind her with a thumb, and I just shook my head.

Jack was there.

As were the rest of the men that worked with him.

“Jesus,” I grumbled under my breath.

“Do you think it’ll be like this every time you go into a SWAT situation?” Luke asked at my side.

I looked over at him.

“I sure as fuck hope not,” I said.

“You weren’t even hurt,” Luke observed.

“No, I wasn’t,” I agreed.

“Maybe you should start weaning them off your tit now,” Luke joked.

Mia growled and leaned around me to glare at Luke.

Luke took the glare and gave her one back of his own.

“I’m not on his tit,” she snapped once the staring contest went on for a while.

Luke’s eyes lit with mirth.

“Are you sure?” He asked.

“Oh, trust me. If I was on his tit, both he and I would know it,” she snapped.

Luke laughed.

As did I.

And I couldn’t say it wasn’t a good one, either. Even if it was at the expense of my girl.

“Let me answer some questions, and then we’ll go home,” I said.

She sighed.

“Not in your truck we won’t,” she said, looking pointedly at the ruined tire of my truck.

I followed the direction of her gaze and winced.

No, I guess we wouldn’t.

Chapter 22

Unless she’s sitting on your face, her weight is none of your concern.

-Words of wisdom to any man dumb enough to ask a woman her weight

Mia

I walked onto the floor of my new job at the other hospital in Kilgore and immediately knew that this was the right place for me to be.

“You ready?” Masen asked.

Masen had switched jobs with me.

She hadn’t been getting the same treatment from the charge nurse and our fellow nurses, but she had my back, and I was appreciative of that fact

“Hey, you must be Mia and Masen,” a small woman about two inches shorter than me said.

I looked over at the woman’s nametag and smiled. “Yes, that’s us. It’s nice to meet you,” I said, extending my hand.

“Call me Payton. And this is Cheyenne,” Payton indicated a woman behind her.

I looked up to find Cheyenne, Sam’s wife, standing there.

“Hi,” I said, waving.

She grinned. “I didn’t realize that you were who was coming today.”

I nodded. “I am. We started last week, actually. But we had to go through orientation and all that fun stuff.”

She nodded and turned to Payton. “This is Jack’s brother’s fiancé.”

The light dawned. “I knew you looked familiar!”

We’d actually seen each other in passing quite a bit, but it was when either of us were coming or going as we went to visit Jack and Winter.

Cheyenne we’d seen quite a bit since her house was the closest to Jack’s house.

A lot of things had happened in the last couple of weeks.

Aaron ‘Fatbaby’ Sims was moved to a burn center in Dallas where he was currently recovering from the disfiguring burns that due to the wreck his wife had caused.

Aaron’s wife, Lynn, had been charged with attempted murder and would likely get sentenced to twenty-nine years in prison. My hope was for the death sentence, but Tai told me that was highly unlikely to happen.

Jenner’s Heating and Electric closed down, the news that one of the owners had been hiring people to exact retribution against those customers she felt had somehow wronged her didn’t exactly sit well with people, and their business dried up quickly.

The reporter, Candice Paige, lost her job and basically tucked tail and moved out of state.

The fire department had also filed a civil suit against her, but the word on that hadn’t gotten back to us as of yet.

Me, well my story with my old job wasn’t quite as cut and dry.

People had been all over the salacious details of my alleged crimes when that article first ran. They rushed to judge without looking into the facts. People were all gung ho about thinking the worst of someone. Sadly, the retraction didn’t make as big of a splash as the article had; it was buried within the pages of the paper, and it sure seemed like most people missed the fact that I had been a victim and was framed for a crime I didn’t commit.

I was still being treated like someone who got caught attempting to blackmail her ex.

Hence, the reason for the job change.

Tai, though, had been the one to suggest that I apply elsewhere.

I looked down at my hand and smiled at the diamond sparkling on my left ring finger.

It was so beautiful, and I remembered, just like it was yesterday, how happy and excited I was to see Tai get down on one knee…even if it wasn’t as romantic as I’d always hoped it would be.

***

Two weeks ago

“Want to go to breakfast before you have to be at work?” Tai asked me.

I applied the last swipe of mascara as I replied with an, “Of course. Our regular spot?”

“Where else is there to eat?” He asked, a smile in his voice.

I smiled down at my phone.

“I can be there early if you can,” I said, backing away from the mirror. I was wearing my headphones, so I dropped the phone into my pocket.

“I’ll be there in about twenty. That should give you enough time to get your shoes and socks on,” he said.

I looked down at my bare feet.

“How’d you know I was barefoot?” I teased.

I hated wearing shoes and socks.

I was a flip-flop kind of girl.

Which meant that my shoes and socks were the first things to go when I got home and
the last things to be put on before I left.

“I know you like the back of my hand,” he said with confidence.

“Oh really?” I said.

“Really,” he confirmed.

“What’s my favorite color?” I asked, walking into the bedroom after spritzing on some body spray.

“That bright, eye-hurting green,” he replied. “The same color as your comforter.”

I smiled, running my hand over said ‘eye-hurting green’ comforter.

“What’s my favorite food?” I asked.

I could practically hear the smile in his voice as he said, “Tacos. But not homemade tacos. You like those gut-hurting Taco Bell tacos. The kind that make you run to the bath…”

“Hey!” I interrupted him. “We do not talk about that, Mister!”

He had the audacity to laugh.

He’d been very understanding about my bathroom…problems. In fact, I wasn’t even embarrassed about it anymore.

Well… maybe I was still a little embarrassed, so I guess I was more resigned to the fact that he knew all about it.

I knew there was no way around that little problem, and it was something I’d likely deal with for the rest of my life.

“What about my favorite book?” I tested him.

The line was quiet for a few moments while I heard him get into his truck and start it up.

I shoved my feet into my shoes and got up, making my way to the front door.

“That’s easy,” he said. “It’s the one that’s in your nursing bag. Twi-fight or something.”

I burst out laughing.

I couldn’t help it.

I knew for a fact that he’d read Twilight.

And he’d liked it, too.

I’d heard from Baylee that the two of them had had a lengthy conversation about the book.

He never indicated that he’d read it before, so I didn’t call him out on it.

“Twilight,” I said.

And yes, I did keep that book in my nursing bag on the off chance that I got some free time.

Most of the time, though, I didn’t.

Which was why I kept that book in there specifically
,
because I could pick it up even if I hadn’t read it in months, and know exactly where I’d left off.

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