Page 45 of Controlled Burn
Dean’s jaw twitched.
Reyes held up a hand. “Not trying to start anything. But if you need backup…”
“I’ve got it.”
Reyes hesitated, then nodded and left.
Dean looked back down at the report.
Didn’t read it.
Talia
The locker room buzzed with the low static of late-night routines—zippers, Velcro, the occasional cough. Talia tugged her station t-shirt over her head, sweat still clinging to her spine.
“You ever feel like this job actively hates women?”
Nina’s voice cut through the quiet.
Talia glanced over. “What happened?”
Nina lay sprawled across her bunk like a starfish, face half-covered by her forearm. “Some guy at the bar last week asked if I was the pole girl or the waitress. And today Stark asked if I was Reyes’s assistant.”
Talia winced. “Oof.”
“I’ve got a degree. Multiple certifications. And an ass apparently too distracting to qualify me for respect.”
A new voice chimed in. “Tell that ass it’s welcome to union meetings.”
Talia turned—a tall redhead in cutoff sweats and a threadbare hoodie leaned in the doorway.
“Bri,” the woman said, waving lazily. “New on C shift. I float.”
“I know you,” Nina said. “You’re the one who nearly decked a chief last year for calling you sweetheart.”
Bri grinned. “That guy’s still scared to walk past Station 9.”
Talia extended a hand. “Talia.”
“I’ve heard of you,” Bri said, shaking it. “Rookie who made Stark flinch. Respect.”
Talia chuckled. “You staying long?”
“They haven’t kicked me out yet.”
Nina sat up. “God, can we please have more women like her around?”
Bri raised a brow. “You mean women who don’t put up with bullshit?”
“Exactly.”
Talia smiled. The air felt lighter. Charged with something other than dread.
Then the locker door creaked open again.
Lt. McKenna.
“Ladies,” she said, voice calm and commanding.
