Yearn by A. Ellis (story books for 5 year olds .txt) 📗

zeroed in on his foot first. The man’s colleagues had helped him get his boot off and I’d call him a very lucky son-of-a-bitch because the boot had saved him from much more severe burns. He had a range of first to third-degree burns from my initial assessment, but they were fairly small. His entire foot from toes to ankle could have been nearly melted off, so I considered him fortunate—although, at that point in time I knew he wasn’t feeling very lucky.

After telling the young girl at the counter that, yes, they needed to call the boss and shut down long enough to clean the fryer and kitchen area, I helped Dre push the cot toward the rig. Once in the back, I got our patient’s burns treated for the time being, wrist and elbow immobilized, and kept track of his vitals as we headed toward the hospital.

All-in-all, it was a memorable call-out that could have turned out really bad.

The worst part of the whole thing once we knew our guy was delivered and in the care of the hospital?

Our rig smelled like a big ol’ bucket of fried chicken for the rest of the shift.

Dre and I changed our clothes and even opted for our alternate boots, leaving our smelly ones outside to air out, but the smell permeated the bus.

We had four more calls that shift and the three patients who were conscious during their transport all mentioned they smelled fried chicken. Dre and I tackled the rig with cleaning supplies about ninety-minutes before shift change and parked it outside with every door and window open in hopes of airing that funk out.

Julia promised to bring in an air-purifier and said the bus would smell fresh and clean by our next shift.

Of course, by the next shift, all the jokers on the crew decided a fried chicken dinner would be hilarious. Dre and I had been off two days, but I swore the scent of chicken was still in my nose. At least our rig no longer stunk like frying oil.

We’d been back on duty about an hour when Julia sent one of the rookies to find us.

“Julia says she needs you in her office, stat,” the kid said with wide eyes.

Fuck.

Seven

Dre

“This is getting a bit old,” I muttered to Khi as we walked toward Julia’s office. “Was she constantly calling you in like this before?”

“Nope,” Khi bit out.

“Yeah, me neither. It’s like she put together her little dream team and now she wants to play puppet master.”

Khi grunted.

I couldn’t really blame him. It seemed every time we got called into Julia’s office, we somehow ended up being required to spend even more time together. I wasn’t going to complain too much since I was hoping to eventually wear Khi down and patch up the issues between us. But I figured he was getting more and more pissed by the moment since his goal in life seemed to be to hate me and avoid me.

“King, Harris, thanks for coming in,” Julia said as we approached her office. “Sit. I’ll make this quick.”

Quick, but she said nothing about painless.

Tension radiated from Khi in waves and I had the strangest urge to stand behind him and rub out the knots I knew were pulling his shoulders tight.

“If you’ll recall, you both put your names in to represent our department at the Indianapolis First Responders Convention,” Julia started.

I wasn’t surprised that Khi had wanted to go to the convention as much as me. It was rumored to be one of the best around with training sessions, programs, and product displays and demonstrations. Plus, it was super expensive so going as department representation was the only way either of us would have been able to attend.

But Shafer and Dawson had been randomly drawn from all of the entries so I’d shrugged it off and figured they’d come back with good stories for us.

“Well, Shafer’s wife was just put on bed rest and Dawson’s son is going in for a hernia repair. They’re both going to need time off and they’ve pulled from the event.” Julia scribbled something in her notebook as she spoke almost absently. Breaking away from whatever she’d been focused on, she shook her head and raised her brows as she looked across the desk at Khi and me. “Well?”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, what was the question?” Khi asked.

Julia frowned. “Damn, sorry, trying to work out these shift changes and schedules. I’m sending the two of you to the convention. You’ll finish this shift and then head to Indy on Friday. We’ll reimburse travel and meals. Everything else is completely covered. Friday through Sunday.” She slid two envelopes across the desk. “All the information is in there. Badges, schedules, all the good stuff.”

Khi cleared his throat. “Is opting out on the table?”

Julia narrowed her eyes at him and steepled her fingers under her chin. “You put your name in to go to this event. Is there a reason my top paramedic would turn down a free trip to learn from experts and see some of the newest and best products available to first responders?”

Yeah, I thought wryly, his reason is sitting right next to him.

Khi cleared his throat. “No, ma’am. I’ll be glad for the experience. Thank you.”

We left the office and headed to the kitchen where we’d originally planned to cook a meal for the challenge. “Think one of the create your own challenges could include one partner throat punching the other?” I semi-joked. “Because it seems like you really want to punch something right now. Namely, me.”

Khi whirled on me and stepped in close.

Do not think about how good he smells.

“Do I want to spend the weekend with you? No. Will I if it means a free trip to a convention I’ve always wanted to attend? Yes.” He breathed slowly through his nose and his jaw bulged. “Let’s get this meal made and the damn picture posted. The less you talk, the less likely I’ll want