Giancarlo eyed me. “You didn’t get laid on the weekend, did you?”
I glared.
He grinned. “Hey, you’re so easy to read. You went to Langley on Friday night hoping to score. This hangdog Monday morning look tells me you did not.”
Pursing my lips, I considered his words.
Giancarlo brushed his overlong hair to the side. When he wore his mask, his hair was always pushed back. His midnight-black locks always had a glean to them. With his tanned skin, perfect teeth, and jovial nature, Giancarlo was the perfect package.
For women.
I sighed. He would totally be someone I was into.
Except for that littlestraightthing. Not even a slight bend. Ever.
But he was always game to be my wingman, so that was awesome. And in turn, I’d talk him up to interested ladies.
“Uh, where’s Marlon?” I scanned the truck bays, trying to find our shiftmate.
“Asleep.” Giancarlo buffed a tire on one of the engines.
I hadn’t seen a scuff. He was always far better at keeping things pristine. I lived in a rustic cabin in the woods. Dirt and muck were a way of life. At least I always made my bed. Mostly because I never knew when Mom might drop by. “Asleep again? It’s the middle of the day.”
“Well, you know he needs his beauty sleep. You want to work out or something?”
“Or something?” I grasped his biceps. I might be ripped, but he was pretty buff too. I took pride in my looks. We needed to be in tiptop shape for this job. Some guys, after they made the team full time, didn’t put in as much effort. I was never going to do that. I was never going to let anyone down.
Miriam emerged from the kitchen. “Either of you two hungry? I made way too much spaghetti.”
“Never going to turn that down.” Giancarlo bounded into the kitchen.
“He’s in good spirits.” Miriam held my gaze.
“Yeah, today’s a good day.” He’d had more than a few bad ones since the fire in February that killed a young woman. Giancarlo had been responsible for checking the room we later found her in. He still carried a damn heap of guilt. The fact he’d been injured trying to save her didn’t mitigate his feelings. He’d seen a psychologist to work through the intensity of his emotions. I tried not to notice how often he still was down because I felt almost as guilty. We’d found the victim and gotten her out of the building, but she’d been badly burned and, blessedly, had never woken up. Her life would’ve been an ongoing nightmare. Sometimes death was a better outcome. A philosophy Ihated, but I’d met enough burn victims to know resiliency only went so far. “Spaghetti, eh?”
“Yep. And you know—”
The alarm sounded.
Giancarlo strode out of the kitchen while stuffing a piece of garlic bread into his mouth.
Dispatch let us know this was a medical emergency on 12thAvenue.
We were ready to go, but Marlon still hadn’t appeared.
Miriam, the driver today, laid on the horn.
Fuck. I don’t have time to run upstairs.“We go without him.” I shouted the words even as Miriam put the truck in gear and we headed out. The drive wasn’t far and a stout man at the end of a driveway was our first clue we’d found the place. I was out of the rig in a flash. I grabbed my medical gear and made my way over to him.
“My daughter.” He pressed a hand to his chest. “She no wake up.”
Since the guy couldn’t have been older than about sixty, I tried to recalibrate my expectations. We hadn’t been given an age of the patient—everyone had been too distraught to answer questions. So we’d raced up here and figured we’d get this sorted once we arrived.
Giancarlo and I followed the man into the house and up a staircase.
The daughter—no more than twenty-five—lay on the floor. The foaming at her mouth and her grayish-tinged skin worried me. Still, I got down to doing the basics—figuring out if she was breathing, if she was bleeding, and if she still had circulation. Unfortunately, the answer to all was no. Well, no bleeding wasn’t a bad thing—but the rest was.
Still, I had to try. I donned gloves and attempted resuscitation with Giancarlo’s help.
