Page 100 of Her Paramedic
“That works for me if it does for everyone else,” Talia replied. It would also put them back on their schedule of how they typically visited each other each year since their parents had moved. “The two of you can stay with me when you come. I don’t know if Kaydence and Axel will be ready to have guests since they’ll just be moving.”
“We’ll think about it. We wouldn’t want to keep you up.”
“Really, Dad?” she asked, and it received a chuckle.
“Just looking out for you and your eardrums, kid.”
She shook her head. “How thoughtful.”
She spoke to her dad for a bit longer before they ended the call. Talia put her phone on the charger, then headed into her bathroom to shower. She would text Slate when she got out before going to bed.
«-•-•-•-•-•-•-»
Slate sat behind the wheel of the ambulance as they were parked in the spot they preferred. He was reviewing the current progress reports for the first week of training for the new security services. Ace was always thorough in his progress reports and kept him and Killian in the loop. Regardless of them being silent partners. Which at this point neither of them were anymore.
The reports did not surprise him. Ace had sent the candidates he wanted to start with, and aside from one, Slate had agreed. Because all of their hires were retired veterans, they went through a psychological evaluation. He raised a question about one who’d passed, but with a note from the therapist. Slate hadn’t thought it was a good idea to put him on extended jobs yet. They’d put him aside to consider later.
“I’m surprised you haven’t called Talia tonight,” Jonah teased.
“She’s having dinner with her friends,” Slate responded.
Jonah laughed as Slate closed the reports and put his phone into the cupholder before giving the younger man his attention. “That’s the only reason you haven’t. You’re so whipped.” Slate rolled his eyes. It wasn’t like he called Talia on every shift.
“Don’t be jealous, kid. You’ll fall in love one day. Just wait for it.”
“Thanks for the advice, old man.”
Slate was contemplating smacking him in the back of the head when a call came in.
“Dispatch to unit seventeen.”
“Seventeen. Go ahead, dispatch,” Slate responded.
“We have a code 23C05 at 357 Huntley Ave.”
“Copy dispatch,” Slate responded, putting on his seatbelt and pulling out of the parking lot. “Seventeen en route,” he finished as Jonah flipped the sirens.
Their destination was close, and Slate made the usual six-minute drive in three. They pulled up to the address and found a frantic teenager on the porch. She shot down the steps towards them as they grabbed their kits.
“You have to help her! You have to help my sister!”
“Show us where she is,” Slate instructed calmly. She turned around and ran back up the steps and into the house. Then downthe hall to a bedroom. They were hot on her heels, pulling on gloves as they entered.
There was a young woman, in her early twenties, lying on the floor on her back, eyes unfocused. They began taking her vitals, Slate checking her eyes. “Can you tell me your name?” he asked. When she remained silent, the teenager supplied it.
“Her name is Ashley.”
“What’s yours?” Slate inquired.
“Wendy.”
Slate watched Ashley wretch, and he turned her on her side so she wouldn’t choke on the vomit that soon decorated the floor.
“You told the operator that she’d overdose. Do you know what she took?” Jonah asked.
“Oxy,” Wendy replied while Slate pulled the Narcan from his bag.
He put the tube into her nostril, pushing the release and administering a dose. “Grab the back brace from the van,” he instructed, and Jonah was on his feet out of the room a second later.
