The Heat Is On (Boston Five Book 1) (11 page)

Hayden’s engagement ring. Glinting at him from the spartan metal shelf.

He had no idea how Shane got the ring, but he pretended nonchalance, merely grunting, “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me.” Shane’s voice was aggressive, the way Heath remembered it just before each of the many occasions on which his brother had gotten into a fight. “Get your shit together. But leave me out of it.”

“Did I ask you for anything?” Heath demanded angrily. “Trust me, I would certainly prefer it if my family stopped meddling in my affairs.”

“Then you should have screwed over some other chick, not Hayden, you asshole.”

At the moment, Heath was at a disadvantage—stark naked, while Shane wore a t-shirt and faded shorts. But he would still tackle his clothed brother right then and there, if that was what Shane was after. He jutted his chin forward, and his voice took on a threatening edge. “It still isn’t any of your business whom I screw and what I do. You better hold your tongue, or I’ll shut you up.”

“Yeah, right.” His brother snorted derisively but made no further move. Instead, he turned on his heel and left the room, leaving Heath standing there with his hands balled into fists. The first words he and Shane had exchanged in weeks were not the ones he would have wanted to say—or hear, for that matter. It had not been a physical fight, only a stupid verbal sparring, but Heath felt dissatisfied, like the conversation had been anticlimactic. His eyes lit on the ring again, and he wondered why Shane had been carrying it around, and whether Hayden had given it to him. But whatever the answers to those questions were, the day was utterly screwed, so he decided to pack up his things and go home. He couldn’t take one damn more thing today.

Heath had always gotten along splendidly with Kyle. Contrary to his identical twin, Kyle had an imperturbable disposition and didn’t act like he knew everything. That’s why Heath had taken the news calmly when he first heard about it a few weeks ago. Kyle was being transferred to his department.

Now, however, in the face of the pushback he had been facing from his family, he viewed the whole arrangement with suspicion. The fire station was really the last place where he wanted to be forced to constantly discuss Hayden. So far, his comrades had been tactful enough not to tell him he was behaving like an idiot. Firemen were there for each other. They literally went through fire for their friends, but they would not presume to meddle in each other’s affairs. For the most part, they let you deal with your problems on your own, but would be there when you signaled that you might need some kind of support. Because of that, the station had become Heath’s refuge, a place he could be sure he wouldn’t be forced to talk about either his dad or Hayden. He feared that that would change once his brother started duty as a paramedic there.

His mother had called him the evening before, asking him to look out for his brother, and as a result, he hadn’t been able to sleep at all. It had reminded him of when his mom had said the same thing to his dad, back when Heath had first been transferred to the same station. Kyle was no fireman, he was a paramedic, and he was a very deliberate and considerate man, who rarely ever got into trouble of any kind. However, Heath knew that, after her husband’s death, his mom was sick with worry for each of her sons—Ryan out as patrolman, Shane investigating murders, and him trying to extinguish dangerous fires. He had promised to watch over his little brother.

But he hadn’t told her that the request made him feel sick to his stomach, and that the familiar sense of guilt had crawled up his spine like a poisonous lizard.

Kyle appeared for his first shift just as Heath had been enduring another unpleasant conversation with the chief, who had reminded him of the psychologist appointment, which of course he still hadn’t scheduled, let alone attended. He didn’t plan on doing it at all. Thankfully, Kyle had innocently arrived then. As was usual with newbies, the whole brigade had welcomed him in a good-natured but rather boastful manner, making a few jokes on his behalf that were so old and predictable it made Heath groan. After that, the chief had formally introduced him again, which was really unnecessary in his case. After all, he knew the entire crew better than the chief himself.

Heath watched the proceedings with a mixture of amusement and pride. His baby brother was listening to his chief with a serious face, looking very much the grown-up. Heath could have sworn it had only been yesterday that he taught Kyle to drive a car. But it wasn’t yesterday. His brother was twenty-three now, handsome and popular with the ladies, just like his twin, who didn’t waste any opportunity. Kyle’s original plan after finishing undergrad had been to go to med school, like his sister. But he’d decided he wanted to earn a little money first, before committing to another decade of school.

Heath didn’t say it, but he would have preferred to see Kyle in med school, instead of working long shifts for far too little money. Kyle’s job as a paramedic was important and commendable, of course, but his clever brother could do better than that. He was very bright and could easily become a doctor.

As soon as the chief had finished his little speech, Heath approached Kyle and slapped his shoulder affectionately. “Welcome to the team, brother.”

“Thanks.” Kyle gave him an even wider smile. “Mom says you need to keep an eye on me.”

“I already promised her that on the phone yesterday.” He rolled his eyes, which Kyle answered with a loud laugh.

“She also told me to remind you about Aunt Maggie’s birthday, which is tomorrow, and you’re supposed to call her.”

“Good God.” Heath sighed, taking Kyle in a playful headlock. “Does she also put your clothes out in the morning and a slip of paper in your lunchbox that tells you when you need to go pee?”

“You’re just jealous she doesn’t make your lunch anymore.” Kyle patted his backpack and said, “If you want, I can share mine with you.”

“You paramedics are such sissies.” Heath gave a theatrical snort. “We firefighters, however, we don’t need our mothers to make our lunches. We cook our own food. And if you ask nicely, you may even get a plate today.”

“I’m familiar with your cooking skills, so I think I’ll stick with Mom’s roast-beef sandwich, thank you very much.”

Heath ached to ask how their mother really was, what was going on in the family, and whether Kyle had talked to Hayden recently, but he didn’t know how to go about it without embarrassing himself. The alarm saved him the trouble.

When both his company and the ambulance were requested, he placed a hand on his little brother’s shoulder and said, “Stay close to Owen, and duck your head when things get rough.”

As he slipped on his work boots and put on his turn-out gear and his helmet, he watched Kyle drive off in the ambulance. Then he climbed into the passenger seat of the truck and switched on the siren.

Even before they reached the scene of the accident, Heath suspected Kyle’s first call would be no picnic. It wasn’t a tree-climbing kitten this time, nor was it a routine house fire or traffic accident. Several construction workers had fallen several yards from a collapsed scaffold, and it was the team’s job to rescue them—or recover their bodies. This was the type of operation that caused nightmares for months to come. Heath would gladly have spared his brother the sight of lifeless, mangled, or smashed bodies on his first day on the job, and he hoped Kyle would be able to handle it all.

At the site, a policeman was waiting to receive the rescue team. As soon as Heath heard a report on the situation, he delegated the recovery of the buried victims to different parts of the team. Four of the five construction workers had been struck dead by heavy parts of the scaffolding. The corpses had to be extricated from the mess. The fifth had survived his fall, but was critically injured. The site looked like a giant game of pick-up sticks, which meant they couldn’t simply push away the rubble to get to him. Everything could slide and tumble further, making it a risk that they’d bury him under even more heavy steel beams. Heath also had to keep the safety of his team in mind, for they could be injured, too, if they started pushing beams aside at random.

He had just radioed for heavy machinery, so the site could be secured with the aid of a crane, when Owen alerted him that the vital functions of the surviving workman were sure to be deteriorating.

“I’m sure he’s got some internal injuries and bleeding,” Owen explained. “We have to get him out of there right now.”

“I know.” Heath pushed his helmet back and ran a hand through his hair. “But we can’t get him out of there just like that. Those beams are likely to crash down on him or us, if we aren’t extremely careful.”

“He needs an IV to stabilize his circulation.” Owen nodded in the direction of the mountain of rubble. “If we don’t do anything, he’ll be dead within minutes.”

Kyle looked his brother in the eye and nodded confidently. “I could climb in there and start the IV.”

Heath was the leader of the team, so both the rescue of casualties and the safety of his men were his responsibility. But the big brother in him would not allow Kyle to risk his life like that. He shook his head resolutely. “That’s out of the question, Kyle. The risk is too high.”

“But—”

Under normal circumstances, he never pulled rank, but in this case, he felt he had no other option. So he fixed his brother with a stern gaze and nodded at Owen.

“If the man absolutely needs an IV, I will go in and take care of it. But I’m not going to send any of you in.”

While Owen nodded and ran to the ambulance to get the necessary supplies, Kyle crossed his arms and stared at his accusingly. “That’s ridiculous, Heath. I’m the paramedic here—”

“That may be the case, but I’ve been trained for this kind of situation, and I’m experienced in inserting IVs, too.”

“Just because I’m your little brother, you’re not going to let me do my job?”

“Wrong.” He flared his nostrils as his radio came to life with a message that the machinery would be there in a few minutes. He quickly replied and then turned to his brother again, who was watching him intently. “I won’t let Owen or any of my men do something like that, because I bear the responsibility for all of you. That has nothing to do with you being my brother.”

Thankfully, Owen came back and handed him the IV set, before Kyle could further lament the fact that he couldn’t crawl through the rubble himself. It was true that Heath didn’t let his men do anything dangerous if he could do it himself, but in this case, he would never even have thought about letting his little brother, the paramedic, perform the task. All he could think of was the sorrow he would cause his mother if anything went wrong.

He sent off a few more radio messages, before he bent to crawl into the site of the accident. It wasn’t an easy task, but he managed to get through the mess to the man, whose face was frighteningly gray beneath a thick layer of dust.

“Sir, my name is Heath. Can you tell me your name?”

“Mark.”

“Mark, we’re going to get you out of here as fast as possible. Can you tell me how you feel?”

“God-awful,” the injured man croaked in a thick voice. “Tell my wife I love her.”

“You’re going to tell her that yourself,” Heath told him, sounding optimistic. He crawled closer and put two fingers against the man’s carotid to feel his pulse. “I’ll put you on an IV now, and then we’ll get to work getting you out.”

“How … how are the others?”

Donning his professional calm, he replied, “We’ll take care of the others once we’ve freed you from all this crap.”

“Shit … my wife and … and I were fighting this morning. If I die now—”

“You gotta stop with that nonsense, Mark,” Heath interrupted, simultaneously searching for a vein on the back of his hand. “We’ll have you out of here in no time, and then you can tell your wife you’re sorry.”

“It was about her mother.” The man uttered a moan. “The old nag wants to move in with us.”

In spite of everything, Heath had to laugh. He tapped the man’s skin, pulled a little, and stuck the hollow needle into the vein, glad he hit it on his first attempt. It was not an easy feat moving around in the cramped, volatile space, with the stifling air and the striped darkness around them, let alone hitting a vein on the man’s hand in these surroundings.

“I recommend flowers, all things considered,” Heath said. He performed the routine steps, pressing the IV bag so the liquid would flow evenly, and then placing it carefully on a stable-looking piece of steel scaffolding.

“Actually, I’m the one who should get the flowers,” the injured man joked, his voice hoarse. “You don’t know my mother-in-law.”

“I’m sure things will be fine again between you and your wife in no time.” Heath took the man’s pulse again and pulled a blanket closer. He needed to place it over the man’s face and torso, to protect him from the aggressive dust that would surely rise up again once they started to remove pieces of rubble.

“Listen, Mark,” he said, gingerly tucking the blanket around the man’s body. “This will protect you. Keep it over your face. I’m going to crawl back out now, so we can start removing the beams and boards. I’ll see you in a bit. That’s a promise.”

“Heath.” The man’s hand pressed his. “If anything happens … my wife …”

“I know.” He pressed the man’s hand in return. “I know.”