Carter's Flame by Tiffany Patterson

Author:Tiffany Patterson [Patterson, Tiffany]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-03-09T16:00:00+00:00

~ Chapter Thirteen ~

Carter

“Negative.”

I turned from my locker to look over my shoulder at my captain.

“Drug test came back negative. Just thought you’d want to know.” He nodded and turned to go back into his office. Captain was often a man of few words, which I appreciated.

I’d taken that damn drug test more than two weeks ago and had forgotten all about it. I knew it’d be negative so I hadn’t been too worried about it. And since telling Michelle about my prior troubles I’d felt a little lighter, more at peace. Her telling me about her mother brought us even closer together. We talked daily and went out as frequently as she would allow, not wanting to spend too many week nights away from her son. I did my best to be understanding. We were moving in the right direction, albeit too slow for my liking.

I closed my locker and sealed it with the lock before heading down to the kitchen where everyone was. It was early morning and I was hungry for breakfast.

“You making your world-famous French toast?” Don’s loud voice pierced my ears when he came up behind me at the refrigerator.

“You wish. You bozos don’t even have cinnamon or nutmeg. The hell type of firehouse is this?” I stood, slamming the fridge shut. “Hey, rookie, why don’t you make a breakfast run?” I yelled at the rookie who was just sitting down to a plate full of eggs and pancakes. I couldn’t remember his name and didn’t give a shit to even try to. Rookies didn’t get called by their name until their probation was up.

“But I just sat down to eat.”

I frowned. “Is he back talking me?” My eyes were pinned on the dark-haired rookie but my question was directed at Don.

“Sure the hell sounds like it,” Don responded.

“Rookie,” I stated firmly, “there’s no fucking cinnamon. No nutmeg. And one lonely ass un-ripened banana in the bowl.” I gestured to the fruit bowl that sat on the counter. “Don, here, wants some fucking banana French toast. You know what I need to make it? Cinnamon, nutmeg, and more than one goddamn un-ripened banana. Get your lazy ass up from the table, take the money out of the food budget, and get your ass to the store!” I glowered at the rookie just waiting for him to say no. But, he must’ve sensed now was not the time to fuck around because within seconds his fork was hitting his plate and he rose, grumbling to himself. I’d let him grumble as long as he got what the fuck I told him to get. Don and I both watched as he grabbed a couple of bills from the jar we kept the money for food and headed out the door.

“And for that back talk earlier, you’re on shit duty for the rest of the week!” I called behind him, relishing when his shoulders slumped.

Just as the rookie left out, Eric walked in the kitchen, glancing at the rookie and then back to us.

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