The nurse at her feet flipped up the visor on her flight helmet. “You’rein good hands,Jen.”
“I need to call my mom,” she said through sniffles.
“Right here,”Drewsaid as he setJen’spurse in her lap.Hegave the flight nurse a flirtatious wink.
“Go ahead and callMom," she said. “We’regonna do some quick vitals and then we’ll get in the air.Haveyou ever flown in a helicopter before?”
Jen shook her head.
The nurse gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “It’sbadass.You’lllove it.”
That madeJencrack a smile.
We finished the handoff, then went back to clear the scene as the helicopter took off.Trafficbegan to move at a snail’s pace as we freed up the opposite side of the road.
Tow trucks came in a caravan, hauling away the wreckage.
What a way to start the fucking day . . .
As we cleared debris from the road, my mind went home.WasAurorastill in bed?Didshe find the breakfastIhad left for her?Wouldshe still be there whenIgot off work in twenty-something hours?
Heaviness settled over me when we unloaded back at the station.Drewwas too fucking chatty as we went through gear checks and reset for the next call; acting like nothing fucking happened.
“Dude, what crawled up your ass and died?”Drewasked as he shouldered his bag and headed to the showers.
A caustic laugh slipped. “Whatcrawled upmyass?Howabout you goingintoa burning car to get a fucking purse?”
“It made her feel better.Shewas scared, dude.”
“She would have been scared regardless,”Isnapped. “Thatdoesn’t mean you get to make stupid, reckless decisions that riskyourlife.Itwas a fucking phone.Itcan be replaced.”
Drew flipped me off.
“You’re just going to ignore me?Youcould have gotten really fucking hurt.”
“Smoke always leads to the fire.”
“No shit.”
He pointed at me. “Thisreaction you’re having?That’ssmoke, dude.Thinkabout where it’s coming from and deal with that before you come at me again for doing my job.”
18
AURORA
THE BAGEL THIEF
Jack was in a mood.Hehad been ever since he pulled into his driveway when he got off duty this morning.Ihad hidden in the widow’s watch, peering over his property as he slammed the door to his truck and stomped inside.
So . . . there would be no morning check-in.Thatwas fine.It’snot likeIneeded one.
I sat cross-legged on the widow’s watch and stared out at the ocean.Theraging current from yesterday had eased into a moody churning that looked the way my stomach felt.
I could still smell his sheets.Thecrisp, clean fragrance of his laundry mixed with manly soap, cologne, and deodorant was potent and intoxicating.Thebed felt like a cloud compared to the air mattressIhad been sleeping on.
Waking up inJack’shouse felt like coming out of a coma.Iwas still me, butIwasn’t entirely sure howIhad ended up there.Myphone had been plugged into the charger, but hadIdone that or hadJack?DidIsleepwalk and crawl into bed with him?Ididn’t thinkIwas a sleepwalker . . .
Or had he . . .
