Page 12
Story: Stilettos and Outlaws
“You’re still alive,” Mom replied.
The car door opened. “Out,” Dad ordered. “The paramedics are here.”
“So? We’re fine,” I replied, not budging an inch.
Sergeant Bergman barked, “Stone. Garza. Get your asses out of the car. Now!”
“Yes, sir.” I reluctantly obeyed and caught a glimpse of myself in the side mirror. Yikes! My face and the front of my uniform were a bloody mess. All from a stupid nosebleed.
An unmarked car slid to a stop and Dante bailed out. He rushed over to me.
I held up a hand. “I’m okay. It’s only a nosebleed.”
“The paramedics are checking you over,” Dante stated.
“But…”
Dante put a finger against my lips. “No arguments.” He snagged Julie’s arm. “You too, Tiny.”
“Tiny? That’s just mean,” Julie protested, trying to pull her arm free. “I might not be as tall as Gemma, but I can kick like a mule. Wanna find out?”
Mom wrapped an arm around Julie. “C’mon, let’s get your owies fixed.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Chapter Three
I frowned at the pimply-faced paramedic standing next to Jerry, the senior medic. He looked like he was sixteen. “Jerry, could you please tell Dante that all the blood is from my nosebleed.”
“Won’t know until I can check you over.” Jerry patted the gurney. “Up you go.”
Dante picked me up and put me on a gurney.
“No lap dance for you tonight, Detective.”
Dante leaned down until his lips brushed mine. “Not a problem. I’ll give you a private dance instead,” he murmured.
My lady parts clenched. With a single touch Dante turned my anger into desire. The rat bastard smiled at me and my willpower melted away. “Okay.”
“Just slap a bandage on my cut and I’m good to go,” Julie said.
Jerry raised his eyebrows. “That cut on your forehead needs stitches and so does the one on your arm. Eddie will take care of you.”
Shit! How had I not noticed her badly bleeding arm?
“When did you start hiring kids?” Julie retorted as the pimply-faced teenager helped her on the gurney.
Mom gave Julie the stink eye. “Manners.”
“I’m twenty-five,” Eddie said and placed a large trauma pad on her cut arm. “I graduated at the top of my class.”
Julie winced. “Sorry. I’m a little stressed out.”
Eddie glanced over at the burning debris. “I can see why.”
Frank dragged Chuck over to the paramedics. “I need him checked out too.”
Jerry eyed the old guy. “Where are his pants?”
The car door opened. “Out,” Dad ordered. “The paramedics are here.”
“So? We’re fine,” I replied, not budging an inch.
Sergeant Bergman barked, “Stone. Garza. Get your asses out of the car. Now!”
“Yes, sir.” I reluctantly obeyed and caught a glimpse of myself in the side mirror. Yikes! My face and the front of my uniform were a bloody mess. All from a stupid nosebleed.
An unmarked car slid to a stop and Dante bailed out. He rushed over to me.
I held up a hand. “I’m okay. It’s only a nosebleed.”
“The paramedics are checking you over,” Dante stated.
“But…”
Dante put a finger against my lips. “No arguments.” He snagged Julie’s arm. “You too, Tiny.”
“Tiny? That’s just mean,” Julie protested, trying to pull her arm free. “I might not be as tall as Gemma, but I can kick like a mule. Wanna find out?”
Mom wrapped an arm around Julie. “C’mon, let’s get your owies fixed.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Chapter Three
I frowned at the pimply-faced paramedic standing next to Jerry, the senior medic. He looked like he was sixteen. “Jerry, could you please tell Dante that all the blood is from my nosebleed.”
“Won’t know until I can check you over.” Jerry patted the gurney. “Up you go.”
Dante picked me up and put me on a gurney.
“No lap dance for you tonight, Detective.”
Dante leaned down until his lips brushed mine. “Not a problem. I’ll give you a private dance instead,” he murmured.
My lady parts clenched. With a single touch Dante turned my anger into desire. The rat bastard smiled at me and my willpower melted away. “Okay.”
“Just slap a bandage on my cut and I’m good to go,” Julie said.
Jerry raised his eyebrows. “That cut on your forehead needs stitches and so does the one on your arm. Eddie will take care of you.”
Shit! How had I not noticed her badly bleeding arm?
“When did you start hiring kids?” Julie retorted as the pimply-faced teenager helped her on the gurney.
Mom gave Julie the stink eye. “Manners.”
“I’m twenty-five,” Eddie said and placed a large trauma pad on her cut arm. “I graduated at the top of my class.”
Julie winced. “Sorry. I’m a little stressed out.”
Eddie glanced over at the burning debris. “I can see why.”
Frank dragged Chuck over to the paramedics. “I need him checked out too.”
Jerry eyed the old guy. “Where are his pants?”
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