Oxygen Deprived (Kilgore Fire Book 3) (4 page)

BOOK: Oxygen Deprived (Kilgore Fire Book 3)
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“Medic three, we have a two vehicle accident on South Main. Two extractions needed. Third vehicle’s occupant up and walking around.” The dispatcher called through our radios.

“Fucking perfect,” Tai sighed. “The busiest freakin’ road in Kilgore, and we’re working a call on it.”

We got there less than five minutes later, and when I stepped foot on the icy white ground, I slipped.

I caught myself on the side of the medic, then shuffled awkwardly to the back of the ambulance.

“Naomi,” I called. “When you get out I want you to start doing a perimeter check.”

She looked at the cars, then nodded, seeing the empty car seats just like I had.

“Got it,” she agreed, stepping out of the back.

I caught her before she could fall on her face, and I said, “Please be careful.”

She nodded, smiled, and we started working.

I saw her the entire time out of my peripheral vision while I worked on stabilizing the two patients in the two separate cars.

I saw she’d gone to the third guy, the one who’d been up and walking around, and started questioning him.

I’d just turned around when I heard the screech of tires, followed by the terrified screams of Naomi.

As I whipped my head around, I witnessed every firefighter’s worst nightmare.

Chapter 4

I wish I could stab idiots with my head.

-Unicorn

Drew

My drive home was almost on autopilot.

I hadn’t realized I’d even made it onto my street until the turn into my driveway was suddenly upon me.

I pulled in and nearly laughed when I saw Aspen trying to check her mail.

She was balanced on the mailbox, leaning over and around it as she struggled to reach the paper that was in the very back of the box.

Putting it into park and getting out, I shut the door then walked across the street.

She looked up almost sheepishly, staring at me like I was Superman.

“Need help?” I asked her.

“Now,” she glared. “What would give you that idea?”

It was more than obvious that she wasn’t in a good mood.

I wasn’t either.

“Your friend’s going to make it,” I told her. “She has a concussion. One of my fellow firefighters pulled her out of the way in time.”

Her head dropped and then her shoulders started to shake.

“I feel so terrible,” she moaned, pushing away from the mailbox and scooting back three steps before she whirled around and started to hurry to her house.

I got her mail and trashcan, shoved my keys into my pocket and followed after her.

She’d left the door to her house open, so I took that as my indication that I was allowed to come inside.

Dropping the mail onto the front entry table, I closed the door and followed the sounds of sobbing into the kitchen.

Then even further into the master bedroom that was off the kitchen.

I found her face down on her bed.

I wasn’t really good at handling crying females.

Hence why I just ignored the problems going on in my marriage instead of tackling them before they got too bad.

“Aspen?” I said softly.

Aspen’s tear-filled eyes rose, taking me in, and she offered me a watery smile.

“I’m hormonal,” she whined. “It’s the female equivalent of dying, you know?”

No, I didn’t know.

Which she got, the longer she looked at me.

“I’m on my period, and I cry a lot for random reasons.” She explained more in depth. “And my best friend nearly got run over by a semi-truck today, and I can’t even go see her in the hospital because of this stupid piece of crap,” she growled in frustration. “Stupid Danny.”

“Come sit outside with me,” I ordered softly.

I needed to get out of her bedroom.

Even the talk of her being on her period didn’t have any effect on my cock.

It was raging, and I was somewhat happy to know it was still functional.

I hadn’t gotten a hard-on from an actual real live woman in months. Though I’d sure as hell tried multiple times—which ended in embarrassment on my end.

Call me crazy, but I guessed it was related to the fact that a woman had thoroughly fucked me over.

Then my daughter, who I didn’t want to admit was a woman yet, had gutted me.

Needless to say, I wasn’t very sympathetic to the female plight these days.

“Come outside with me,” I ordered, tugging her up into my arms. “It’s just raining now and the temperature has warmed up a bit. You can tell me why you’re in this mess.”

She slowly got up to her hands and knees, then crawled backwards until her feet were both planted firmly on the floor.

“Okay,” she mumbled softly.

Thunder boomed overhead.

I looked up at the roof, almost as if just by doing so I would be able to see whatever storm was headed our way.

Instead, I saw a mirror.

A big one.

Needing to get out of there before I had any more crazy thoughts, I grabbed her hand and tugged her along behind me.

“Want a beer?” I asked.

She shook her head as we walked through the rain drops to the side part of the front yard where a little gazebo was sitting.

It was in sore need of a new coat of paint, and would likely need a new swing sometime soon, but I led her there anyway.

“No, thank you,” she declined softly. “I’d rather a Dr. Pepper.”

I walked away, but continued to talk to her as I did.

“Why are you on house arrest?” I asked, taking a beer from the cooler in the back of my truck.

“I’m officially grounded from alcohol, too. It’s one of my stipulations,” she admitted.

My brows rose.

“Long story,” she muttered.

Lowering the lid of the cooler, I popped the top on the beer and started heading back towards her.

Once there, I took up the seat on the swing next to her, throwing my arm over the top of the seat and looking up at the sky.

“I’ve got time,” I added, placing the beer between my legs and staring at her.

She grimaced, then sighed.

“Well…” she cleared her throat. “It started when my best friend was raped.”

I blinked, surprised at the course this story had taken.

“Yeah?” I asked. “What happened?”


I had a friend whose man left her, but only after he sexually assaulted her first.” She bit her lip
. “She filed charges. The guy got off; his daddy had a lot of money and clout with a couple of judges,” she said. “And Angelica started to slowly go into a downward spiral. One second she was this upbeat girl who volunteered at animal shelters, and the next she was in a depression so deep that she barely got out of bed.”

My stomach sank.

“And she tried to commit suicide, but I got there in time to call an ambulance. They pumped her stomach, and then kept her on a psychiatric hold for forty-eight hours before releasing her again.” She took a deep breath. “And I took it upon myself to help her get out of her funk.”

“And how’d
you do that?” I
asked.

She smiled.

“I started to burn the guy’s cars. When he’d get a new one, I’d take Angel over there with me, and we’d light the car on fire again,” she grinned.

“And you got caught?” I
guessed, taking a sip of my beer.

She shook her head.

“No,” she admitted. “We went out to celebrate one night after his car was torched for a second time, this time not by me, but I made a mistake.”

“What mistake?” I asked.

“I dropped my boyfriend/fiancé’s lunch off for him, and caught him fucking his partner in his patrol car,” she grimaced, her face a mask of embarrassment.

My mouth dropped open in surprise.

“That was
you
?” I asked.

She shrugged, and another boom of thunder sounded overhead.

I wanted to wrap both arms around her and tell her that I was sorry, that she didn’t deserve to be treated like that, but I knew those words wouldn’t help her.

Nothing would but time.

“So…by me going off the chain at the police station, there were about eight million cops as witnesses to my act, meaning I couldn’t deny anything.” She shook her head
. “My brother did what he could, getting me house arrest and probation instead of jail time. Because fucking Danny pressed every charge he could.”

“This is Danny Salazar?” I guessed. “Naomi’s brother? The traffic cop that writes everyone tickets?”

She sighed, then nodded.

“One and the same.” She rolled her eyes to the
roof, letting the back of her head rest against my arm.

I don’t think she realized she was doing it, but I sure did.

Jesus, my dick sure did pick an awesome time to wake back up.

I crossed one leg over the opposite knee, reaching my hand down and using my leg as cover to readjust my cock in my pants.

“I heard he’s a dick,” I mentioned, gauging her reaction.

She sighed, long and loud.

“He is. Most definitely,” she agreed. “But his partner is an even bigger dick. I hated her for the longest time; and it hurts more, I think, to know that he cheated on me with
her
.”

“Seems like good riddance to me,” I muttered, only saying exactly what was on my mind.

I was forty-two years old.

I didn’t mince words. Not anymore.

I told it how it was, sparing no one’s feelings.

Which I think was another thing that took my daughter’s affection from me.

She hated that I was no longer with her mom and made no attempt to hide the fact that she was mad at me.

She intentionally acted out in school, no doubt a ploy for attention. I called her out on it when I picked her up from school after she was sent home to start a mandatory, three-day suspension for her outburst.

And I hadn’t seen her since.

It’d been three weeks.

“Where’s your head at?” A soft voice asked from beside me.

I turned to study Aspen.

“My kid,” I admitted.

“Your kid?” She repeated in surprise.

I nodded.

“How old is he?” She said, throwing her hair back over one shoulder.


She’s
sixteen,” I told her.

“Ohhh,” she smiled. “That’s a fun age. I remember when I was sixteen.”

I regarded her closely.

“Why do you say it like that?” I asked suspiciously.

“I lost my virginity at sixteen,” she admitted. “And I was a bad girl. I partied more than I slept.”

I glared at her.

“That’s not what I want to hear,” I told her. “I’m already dreading meeting her first boyfriend.”

“What if she’s already had one for a year now?” She teased.

I pinched her thigh, causing her to laugh.

“No, really. I was a good girl. I didn’t lose my virginity until I was twenty-two,” she decreed. “And even then, I wouldn’t count it as losing my virginity.”

“Why?” I asked curiously.

I didn’t like thinking about her being with another man, and I hadn’t even been with her yet.

Yet.

Thunder boomed and a streak of lightening had me laughing when Aspen jumped.

I lifted the beer, still cold from the just above freezing temperature outside, to my lips and took a long sip.

My throat worked as I swallowed nearly all of it in less than thirty seconds.

“You’re pretty good at that,” she observed.

“You’re avoiding the question,” I evaded, dropping the bottle down until the frozen bottom rested against my erection.

I pressed down slightly, hoping to relieve the throbbing that was still there, but it didn’t work. Especially when I watched Aspen lick her lips and run the tip of her finger along the top of her knee.

Who knew that sweat pants would do it for me?

I sure as fuck didn’t.

And they weren’t even nice. You could tell that they were years upon years old.

Plus, I was fairly sure she was no longer a ‘Bulldog.’

“He finished before he could get all the way inside me,” she snapped. “Happy?”

I nodded.

Immensely.

Thunder boomed once again and I sighed, getting up but being sure the beer bottle hid the majority of my erection from her face, especially since it was now on eye level with her.

“I’m gonna go get my wood inside so it can dry out some,” I told her. “It’s supposed to flood, which’ll inevitably knock the power out, and then I’ll be freezing my balls off.”

She stood, too, toe-to-toe with me, our feet just barely a foot apart.

“Thanks for helping,” she said. “I already feel better.”

“They only kept your friend overnight because they were worried about her concussion,” I told her. “She should be out by tomorrow.”

Aspen held up a thumb. “Good.”

I grinned at her, touching the tip of her nose with my beer bottle before backing up and turning, heading down the steps.

“Hey!” She called.

I stopped and turned back to her.

“What?” I asked,
attempting to shield my crotch so she wouldn’t see the way my work slacks tented in the front.

“What’s your name?” She asked.

I grinned.

“Drew.”

She held up her thumb again.

“Cool.”

Chapter 5

Fuck. Fucker. Fuckity fuckwad.

-Aspen’s secret thoughts

Aspen

I was officially freezing.

Was it possible to get frostbite in less than an hour?

That’s how long the power had been out.

Drew’s prediction had come true.

He’d said that the power would go out, and it had.

I just wished I had been able to prepare for it.

Even now, I had two blankets on top of me, but if it got too much colder, I’d literally start crying.

The battery operated emergency clock/thermometer I’d pulled in from the garage read forty-nine degrees, and I was cursing myself for my stupidity.

I’d already had it set at sixty-two due to the fact that I could barely afford the bills as it was, and now it was reflecting how cold it was outside seeing as there hadn’t been much heat to begin with.

“Mother of pearl,” I whined. “This is the worst month ever!”

A knock sounded at my door, and I opened it to find my brother on the other side.

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