Oxygen Deprived (Kilgore Fire Book 3) (22 page)

My grin fell from my face as I sighed.

“I got a problem.”

He nodded. “Didn’t think you’d be here if you didn’t,” he said. “Hit me with your best shot.”

So I did, telling him about Aspen.

“I remember hearing all that when she got arrested for police brutality,” he spat. “Knew then, just as I know now, that this is a big clusterfuck. What else happened?”

So I told him that, too.

Luke blinked, his eyes going wide.

“One of my men is doing this?” Luke asked, a note of annoyance in his voice.

I nodded, pulling the papers she’d received from my coat pocket and tossing them down on his desk.

They hit with a soft thud, and Luke immediately started to pour through them.

“Wait,” Downy said, silent until now. “You’re telling me that douche wad is trying to sue my sister?”

I nodded. “He is.”

Downy’s fists clenched.

It seemed Downy wasn’t as immune to his sister’s well-being as he tried to make himself seem.

“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” he grunted, standing abruptly.

“Sit
down!
” Luke barked.

Downy flipped Luke off and left without another word, causing Luke to sigh.

“You really had to do that with him here?” He asked.

I shrugged. “Someone had to do it. I have my peace officer’s license, but I don’t work for you. If I’d have done it, it wouldn’t have had the same effect as if one of y’all had done it.”

“You’re going to get him in trouble,” Luke muttered, his tired eyes coming to meet mine.

I shrugged.

“You know what?” I said
. “I don’t think I really give a fuck. It’s time someone thinks of Aspen, here, instead of themselves. It’s time for Downy to step up to the plate.”

Luke snorted.

“He did step up to the plate,” he said, standing now too. “She would’ve gotten five years in prison had it not been for him.”

I shrugged, even though that was the first time I’d heard that.

It didn’t surprise me, though.

“Good.” Was all I could think to say.

He shook his head.

“Anything else?” He wanted to know.

I hesitated, remembering the boy from last night. The same one who’d been staring at me from his front yard this morning.

Remembering the note of promised violence in his eyes, I went ahead and informed him of what happened there, too.

“Fucking kids,” I muttered darkly. “This whole fucking thing is a clusterfuck.”

Luke nodded.

“I’ll do some research. Do you know his last name?” He asked.

I shook my head. “No. Only the first, but I can tell you his address.”

Luke tossed me a pile of Post-Its and I quickly jotted the info I did have down.

“Give me the day, and I’ll have more information for you later tonight,” Luke instructed.

I nodded, but something in the back of my mind was telling me that it wasn’t good enough, stuck with me.

And I was right.

Turns out tonight would be too late.

Dear sleep, I love you.

-Coffee Cup

Aspen

“Look at that,” Attie said. “Do you think that my dad would…” she stopped when she saw the look on my face.

“He wouldn’t let me, would he?” She laughed.

I shook my head.

“No, he wouldn’t,” I said, scanning names on the internet. “I think I found you a doctor. It’s the one I use for my yearly exams and have used since I turned sixteen. My mom doesn’t use her, though. She’s too ‘hip and modern’ for her. She also does obstetrics.”

Attie’s eyes turned squinty.

“What?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Nothing.
I just don’t like thinking about…it.” She hesitated
, “When I first found out I was,” she swallowed. “Pregnant. I did some research.”

I laughed then at the look on her face.

“It’s not very pretty,” I said. “But it’s got a good benefit at the end,” I supplied, standing up when I heard the doorbell ring.

She snorted.

“I guess,” she grumbled. “I wasn’t very happy to find out. The guy I was with…” she looked down at her lap and I paused.
I hadn’t heard anything about this ‘guy.’ I’d asked, of course, but she’d been pretty tight lipped about him
. “He told me he put on a condom. And he also convinced me to do it in the first place.”

I stopped with my hand on the knob.

I didn’t bother rushing to answer it. It was the mailman, and he usually just left my belongings on the front porch for me and left without waiting for me to answer.

“You didn’t want to do it?” I asked in surprise.

She shook her head.

“I, well, I fell in with a bad crowd.
When my parents divorced, I decided to find some other friends since mine thought bringing it up every five minutes would help me get over it.” She bit her lip
. “And so I found different friends that knew nothing about me…and that’s where Ellison came in.”

“Ellison,” I tested the name. It was familiar. “Why does that name sound so familiar?”

She pointed across the street.

“That’s him,” she said, pointing to the front yard.

I looked out the side window at the yard directly next to Drew’s, and my heart dropped.

“No,” I gasped, voice low and unsteady. “You and him?”

She nodded, wincing. “I can’t say it was my best moment.”

A knock sounded again, and without thinking I opened it and blinked at the young man on my stoop.

“Can I help you?” I asked him.

He was young, maybe Attie’s age if not just a year or so older.

He was wearing blue jeans, a black polo shirt, works boots, and a Letterman jacket that declared him a member of the Kilgore Bulldogs.

His hair was cut in a military style, trim and neat.

His eyes were the color of muddy water, and they were completely and totally focused on Attie who was sitting on the couch staring at him in shock with her mouth open.

He was big, too. Oh, boy, was he big.

Bigger than Drew,
big
, and Drew was no slouch in that department.

Drew was six three and two hundred and eleven pounds. I’d seen a weigh in on the scale just this morning.

This boy, though, easily had fifty pounds on him.

And about five inches.

“Hello,” I called. “Can I help you?”

The boy’s eyes turned down to me, and he smiled.

“I’m Mace Turner,” he rumbled quietly. “I’m looking for her.”

He pointed at Attie, who squeaked and ran away, slamming the door to the bathroom in her haste.

“I’m not sure she wants to see you,” I told him carefully.

He laughed.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “She’ll want to see me. Just let her fix what she thinks is needing to be fixed. I’ll wait out here.”

I snorted and gestured to the couch.

“Have a seat, young man,” I gestured. “Can I interest you in some water?”

He pointed at the bottle I’d dropped earlier while talking to Drew.

“I have one of those,” he says. “Use it during football practice. Works awesome to mix up the protein powder or some PowerAde.”

I smiled, picking the bottle up.

“I have to do a review on it,” I said, placing it on the counter and walking to the kitchen cabinet.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to use that kind of stuff in it,” Mace said carefully.

I looked down at the Kool-Aid powder in my hand, then promptly stuck my tongue out at him.

“Beggars can’t be choosers,” I told him, taking the bottle, twisting the top off, then putting the powder into the top where the directions indicated.

Once I filled the bottle up with water, I replaced the lid, then watched as the button on the top depressed on its own, as the water infused with the powder, becoming the perfect consistency without me having to lift a finger.

“Sweet,” I hummed, popping the top and taking my first drink.

It tasted perfect, too.

“Works better with actual protein powder,” Mace offered his two cents.

I stuck my tongue out at him.

“So…Attie,” I started.

Attie chose that moment to come out of the background, and Mace’s eyes lit with an inner fire that I often saw in Drew’s eyes when he looked at me.

He turned and looked over his shoulder without turning around, and Attie’s eyes widened.

“You’re…here,” she said softly.

Mace nodded.

“Told you I would be.”

Attie’s return smile was brilliant.

And suddenly I felt like I was intruding.

“I’m just going to take my laptop on the front porch and try to get today’s blog post written, okay?” I said softly.

Mace’s head turned back toward me, and he nodded once, thankfulness brimming in his eyes.

“You need more clothes on than that,” he said. “Wind’s got a bite to it.”

I snorted and left the room without another word, grabbed the snow boots I’d written a review on last week and shoved my feet into them.

The next thing I grabbed was the huge parka lined with a Sherpa like material that belonged to Drew.

The back read ‘KFD’ and it not only went all the way to the ground, it also drug behind me like a train when I wore it.

He’d given it to me last night when I told him I wanted to watch the snow and hadn’t taken it back this morning when he’d driven to work.

I moaned at the smell that wafted off it when I wrapped it around my shoulders, my eyes nearly crossing when I groaned in pleasure.

It smelled exactly like Drew.

Lemon with a hint of whatever aftershave he used.

I wished that I could bottle the smell and make a candle out of it.

Not to mention the smell turned me on.

Grabbing the laptop that’d been charging all morning in case the power went out, I stepped outside and was immediately assaulted with the cold winter air.

It was a cold twenty-five out, and the snow that was supposed to continue through the afternoon fell steadily in soft, fluffy flakes.

Although I was nice and warm in my coat, I still walked back inside and grabbed the quilt Downy had brought back, freshly laundered, and laid it down over my rocking chair before I took a seat in it.

Then, I wrapped it around my body, and got situated before I got my laptop out and started on my review.

I’d gotten about two lines in when I felt someone’s eyes on me.

Looking up, I smiled at Raphael.

“Hey!” I waved.

Raphael nodded, got in his truck, and pulled out of his driveway.

He was about halfway down the street when I felt another presence, causing me to look to the side.

“Don’t move,” the boy snapped.

Ellison.

He looked cold.

He was wearing nothing but a long sleeved tee, a pair of dark washed jeans, and a pair of lime green Jordan’s that would likely get ruined in the snow.

Oh, and he had a gun.

Pointed at my face.

I blinked, my fingers freezing on keys, and looked up from the gun to his eyes.

“What do you want?” I asked carefully, my fingers gripping the computer with a grip that would likely pain me in the morning.

“Get up. Go inside,” he gestured to the door with a red can that was in his hand.

My body froze, eyes going wide at the sight of the gas can in his hand.

I couldn’t tell you why that made my throat swell and my heart stutter in my chest.

Both the gun and the can of gas were troubling, but the gun was the more imminent threat to have right then; but you wouldn’t be able to tell my body that.

“Go!” He screamed.

My eyes went sideways as I rose from my chair, placing the computer on the chair where I’d been sitting and turning to walk inside.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Ellison ordered gruffly.

I opened the door to my house.

Drew

“Where’s your head at?” Tai asked as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

I dropped my phone into my pants pocket and pulled the hood back up over my head.

“That was Raphael, my neighbor. He said he had to leave,” I muttered, my stomach suddenly sinking.

I couldn’t explain it, but getting that call from Raphael saying he had to leave had my belly somewhere near my knees.

“I need to run by the house and get my parka,” I informed him. “I left it at the house last night. Do you think the boys will go for a run to the house?”

“I don’t see why not,” Tai shrugged. “It’s less than five minutes from the station. Technically, we wouldn’t even have to leave there if we didn’t want to. Plus, I’m sure Chief Allen would let us stay there due to the fact that there’s no power at the station.”

“The engine and medic would be in the snow, though. I doubt he’d like that very much,” I said, playing devil’s advocate.

Tai shrugged. “Back the medic into your car port. The engine will be fine.”

I nodded and turned to see what the guys’ thought, and they were all for it.

Apparently, sitting in a dark station with no electricity was a good motivator.

Five minutes later and we were pulling onto my street.

On the way, we’d decided to use the Morrison house that was at the top of the street as a place to park the engine. The Morrisons went down to Florida every December and January, something I’d found out during one of my many runs through the neighborhood since I’d moved there.

The Morrisons usually parked a massive gooseneck motor home there when they weren’t using it, and it was the perfect size for the quint.

It was five houses down from mine, which meant it was about as ideal as it was going to get under the circumstances we were currently dealing with.

“Damn, that’s impressive,” Booth called.

“What?” I asked, engaging the parking break.

“The fact that you just backed up in less than five seconds, in the snow. With almost zero visibility,” Booth indicated the steering wheel. “You’re good at it.”

I snorted.

“Been doing it for going on twenty years now,” I grunted. “I should be.”

Booth grinned and popped the door open.

I followed suit and started walking towards the boys that’d taken the ambulance down to my house.