“Was talking on the phone, is all.”
My eyes widen with surprise.
“To who?”
“A girl I met a couple weeks back. She’s a nurse, also on night shift.”
“Ha! You dirty dog,” I say with a chuckle, punching his shoulder.
“If the children are done playing in the sandbox,” Schmiddy says.
Oh shit. Right.
I swing my jacket on and haul my ass into 53 before Sandy has us rolling out into the street.
Schmiddy runs through the stats. “1700 Third Avenue. We have a multi-structure blaze that has already taken the first two levels.”
“That’s a damn school.” Sandy is shaking his head.
“On a weekend. Vandals, fifty bucks.” Owens holds her hand out.
“Raise you fifty electrical.” Sandy slaps her hand before returning his focus to the road ahead.
“We are not here to assess motivation, only to put out the fire.” Schmiddy’s stare burns into Owens.
“So, you don’t want in on the bet,Cap?” Owens raises both brows. “Unlike you to not gamble with life or property.”
Holy fuck, Heidi.
Schmiddy scowls at her and she scoffs a lighthearted laugh before turning her focus to the road ahead also.
This is going to go well.
We turn onto Third Avenue, and the blaze has lit up the street.
“Geez,” Davey utters.
“On my command, we set up and haul ass,” Schmiddy yells over the headsets like we can’t fucking hear him.
My gut flips.
I hate this already.
41 is already on scene when Sandy pulls over and sets the engine to idle.
We bail from the cab, looking up at the building as it roars, shattering the front windows.
Hell.
Hell has nothing on this mammoth of a fire.
The captain of 41 marches for us the second Schmiddy swings down from the engine. “Schmidt, your crew is on ventilation.”
“Said you on whose authority?” Schmiddy hugs the tablet to his chest.
The secondhand embarrassment is almost as hot as the blaze mere feet from us.
“You need me to radio for Hammond?” the 41 Cap, Barratt, snaps.
