“Fuck off,” I mutter, though my brother is not telling a lie.
“Well, it’s all for a good cause,” Amy says as she tapes down the lid of the box.
“What do I owe you?” I ask as I pull out my wallet.
She hands over the box and says, “There are seventy-two cookies in there at fifty cents each, so that’s thirty-six dollars.”
I pull out a hundred-dollar bill and hand it to her. “How much for the recipe?”
“It’s secret, Meli told me not to tell a soul,” she says, pretending to zip her lips.
“You’re talking about my surrogate mother there,” I say with a grin. Me and Ven made a pact to be blood brothers, which means his mom, Meli, is mine too… sort of. “Aw, c’mon, I’m sure Meli won’t mind, I’m not gonna sell them.”
“I guess as it’s you, then it’ll be okay.” She pulls her phone out and types out a text message to me before making a big production out of hitting send. “There you go. It’s good doing business with you.”
Before I can thank her, my phone begins ringing. It’s the ringtone I assigned to my unit commander. Looks like my day off is now officially over, it’s a good job I only had the one beer well over an hour ago. I mutter under my breath as I pull out my phone.
“This is Rage, what’s up?”
“We have a five-car pileup involving a tanker truck full of toxic chemicals about twenty miles out of town.”
Shifting the box in my arms, I ask, “Want me to head that way? I can be there in about fifteen minutes.”
“No, we’ve both ambulances there already and Rhone County is sending help as well. We just got a call from the Las Salinas PD of a hostage situation involving a family of three. The daughter called to report that her mother had been shot by her father. When the police arrived, he wouldn’t let them in. They’re organizing their SWAT team and when they swarm the place, we’re gonna need someone to see to the injured.”
“Fucking hell, text me the address and I’ll be there ASAP.”
“You got it. Just remember, Rage, park your ass and don’t move in until the police give you the go ahead.”
“Roger that, boss,” I reply stoically. I hate domestic violence situations, especially the ones involving kids.
I was already walking to my truck by the time the conversation was over. I stow the box behind my seat and head for the scene with my overhead lights flashing. People get the fuck out of my way because this is a small town where people actually care about one another. Most people know me and what I do for a living, so they give way.
Me? I worry all the way there that the police will drag their feet about swarming the place until it’s too late, or that her injuries will be too severe, and I won’t be able to stabilize her. I worry about the kid and what seeing all this will do to their mental health. I worry about what having another death on my conscience would do to me.
***
I arrive and park on the other side of the street since all the police cars have stopped in the middle of the road. They’re using their vehicles as cover so they can try to talk the dude down.
They must have been at it for more a few minutes because the man is yelling at them.
I jump out of the truck, pull off my cut and grab my EMS uniform top before racing out to speak to the officer in charge. My hand grips my medical bag as I kneel down behind the vehicle. “Sergeant Pike. What the hell is going on? He sounds drunk or high.”
He’s talking on his two-way radio and glances up at me. “Glad you’re here, Rage. He’s pretty amped up. My money is on both, drugs and alcohol. My officers went door-to-door when we first arrived. The neighbors report regular disturbances. The family used to keep themselves to themselves, but in the last year something must have happened. They’ve called the police after hearing screaming from the house three times this year. We’ve arrested him twice and he gets bailed out within hours.”
“So this ain’t his first rodeo,” I say grimly, taking a minute to pull on my uniform shirt so everyone knows not to fucking shoot me.
“Unfortunately, not. He won’t let the woman go or any of us in to perform first aid.”
“Maybe he’ll let me in. EMS workers aren’t law enforcement, so I’ve at least got a chance.”
The older man’s gaze was one of deep concern. “This man’s off his rocker. You’re gonna get yourself shot if you try to get in there. You do know that, right?”
I reach out and hold the button down on his two-way radio. “Just want to let everyone know that I’m going to try to get into the house to check on the wounded woman. I’m doing it of my own volition so don’t be trying to lay blame on anyone else if things go sideways for me in there.”
“You’ve lost your mind, Rage.” His voice was deadly serious, enough to almost make me second guess my decision. Then the thought of some kid watching her mom bleed out on the floor races through my mind.
“Most all paramedics have a wild streak. It’s what drives us to do what we do.”