All fired up, p.1
All Fired Up, page 1
ALL FIRED UP
Brothers of Fire
Book 1
Kathryn Shay
All Fired Up
Copyright © 2023 by Kathryn Shay
All Rights Reserved
Published by Ocean View Books
Cover Design by Stacy Stephens
Smashwords Edition
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the bookseller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Table of Contents
Cast of Characters
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Author’s Note
The Brothers of Fire Stories
THE RESCUE Excerpt
About the Author
Cast of Characters
Main Characters
Jared Zenko Captain of Engine 4
Lacey Roth Psychiatrist at Memorial Hospital and Eastside Clinic
The Brothers of Fire with Significant Other
Captain Jared Zenko (Lacey Roth)
Lieutenant Noah Keaton (Chloe Logan)
Captain Tim Daniels (Ava Daniels)
Lieutenant Tom Mancini
Captain Adam Stark (Beth Stark)
Captain Carson Taylor III
Sisters of Fire
JJ Jensen Barrows (Dr. Nick Barrows)
Tess and David Ashford
Trish Mackenzie Mitchell (Nathan)
Jarek’s Family
Mother— Ada Zenko “Matka”
Father—Alek Zenko “Pa”
Brothers
Mikoilaj Zenko (Julia)
Henryk Zenko (Sofia)
Bogdi Zenko
Lacey’s Family/Friends
Mother—Marion Roth
Father—Marshall Roth
Brother—Linc Roth
Cousin—RuthAnn “Ruthie” Price
Ex-Fiancé—Pierce Patterson
Jarek’s Crew on Engine 4
Firefighter Big Joe Early
Firefighter Suzie Raycroft
Firefighter Eric Woo
Firefighter Ronny Harmon
Lacey’s Patients
Holly/Hannah Sorenson
Mila Lopez
Locations
Wink’s Bar
Brothers&Sisters Crystal City Country Club
Crystal City Diner
Magnolia’s
Connor’s Restaurant
Lakeview Restaurant
The Elmwood Inn (The Grand Hotel)
Harris Hill
Prologue
“So, are you a good biker boy or an arrogant creep?”
Jarek Zenko turned to look at the speaker of the unusual question. He recoiled. Not in a bad way. The woman who’d dropped down on the stool next to him at the bar was…stunning. Blonde hair rippling down her back. Wide eyes. Perfect features. “Now that’s one I haven’t heard before.”
Her unlined brow furrowed. “One what?”
“Pick up line.”
Instead of being insulted, she laughed. “Not tonight, buddy. I just got burned.”
“By an arrogant creep?”
“Yep.”
“What’d he do?”
“Cheated on me.” She held out her hand. “No more ring here.”
“You’re married?”
She shook her head. “Engaged. Past tense.”
“Let me buy you a drink.” He held up his hands arrest style. “No strings attached.”
She watched him. Dissected him. He knew he wasn’t exactly attractive. But he had okay features, big gray eyes, a decent haircut, longer than he used to wear in Afghanistan but still short.
“Sure. I’ll have a…” a slight hesitation as she glanced at his bottle “…a Molson’s.”
Signaling the bartender, he ordered her drink. The band had stopped playing so it was quiet enough to talk. And the crowd had thinned, but there was still a low buzz of conversation. When her beer came, he turned back to her. “Did he at least do it gently? In a private place.”
Now her face lost its sassiness and turned sad. “No to both. We were having dinner at The Lakeview Restaurant. Over our wine, he told me he was tired of me.”
“Tired? Of you?” How could a man get tired of that face? He took a quick peek. From what he could tell under her shirt, her body was great, too. “He’s gotta be nuts.”
“Go figure.” But the tone was self-effacing. She forced a smile. “I threw the drink in his face.”
“Good for you.”
“He found somebody who was more exciting. Younger.”
“How old are you?”
“Biker boy, you don’t ask a woman that.”
“We’re way past niceties, biker girl.”
She laughed at what he called her. “Thirty-five. You?”
“Thirty-six.”
“Are you married?” she asked.
“No.” A deep frown. “I wouldn’t be flirting with you if was.”
“You’re flirting with me?”
“Yep. And you’re flirting with me.”
“I guess.”
Now the smile was genuine. He noticed the raisin color lipstick on her mouth. It looked…tasty.
“How’d you get involved with such a jerk?”
She sipped the beer. “The bastard and I grew up in the same neighborhood. We started dating and were on and off many years.”
“How come you didn’t tie the knot sooner?” he asked her.
“Neither of us was ready.”
She studied his face. “Why aren’t you happily wed?”
“I was. Or so I thought.”
She said, “Oh.”
“What?”
“Did she die?”
“No, just her feelings for me. I was in…never mind?”
“In, what? Come on. We’ll never see each other again.”
He guessed he could tell her some. “She sent me a letter while I was out of town. It was awful. A lot like getting dumped by text.”
Reaching out, she touched his arm. Her fingers were long with unpainted nails.
He turned his body more to face her. “How’d you end up here at Harley’s?” A local biker bar.
“An advertisement about the auction was left at my work.” She glanced away for a minute. “How about you?”
“A buddy of mine in our biker group had a son who died from an overdose. He has these benefits periodically.”
Her gaze dropped to his black t-shirt. It sported a huge white eagle on the back with a tire in the middle. Running through it was a purple ribbon with Larry Thomas Memorial Poker Run. Below the eagle was a quote, Your light shines on us. The sleeve had a small purple ribbon folded over itself like the pink ones used for breast cancer.
“Love the shirt.”
“Yeah? You want one?”
“I do!”
He reached over into his backpack which sat on the floor. Produced another shirt. She took it, stood, shook out the tee and poked her arms and head into it. She was tall but slender and the thing dropped to her knees. She sat back down. “Thanks.”
Now his smile was genuine. “You, lady, are something else.”
“Nah, I’m boring, remember? The bastard said so.”
“Nah, you’re fascinating. Hang around awhile?”
“If we stay anonymous.”
“You’ll be the gorgeous woman I met at a bar.”
“And you’ll be the guy with animal magnetism that I met at a bar, too.”
She thought he had animal magnetism? Nobody ever told him that.
She lifted her beer. “To bikers.”
“To beautiful, feisty women.”
Their eyes met as they clinked their bottles. A kick of electricity shot through him at the look they exchanged.
Chapter 1
The gathering for officers in the department was hosted by Tim Daniels at his house-an ordinary Victorian in a middle-class neighborhood on the south side of Crystal City. Available were drinks, snacks and a big-screen television to watch the baseball game.
Tim said, “Before the game starts, I’d like to talk to you about something.”
Carson Taylor, a captain at House 5 smirked. He was a handsome guy, with thick, dark hair and ice-blue eyes. “I knew you wanted something, Daniels.” He looked around. “And the group? Not all officers are here. Those of us who are don’t usually hang out.”
“You’re too busy with your harems, Taylor.” Tommy Mancini made the remark about Carson’s well known playboy rep. Tom was the nicest guy in the department and a standout firefighter, but he was always getting dumped by women. He seemed cursed.
“I admit it. I like my women.” Carson popped a corn chip into his mouth.
Tim picked up on the previous comment. “We don’t usually hang out. That’s what I want to address.” Tim was an honest guy, a good guy all around, and his engaging personality seemed to have sway over the whole department. “I’d like a truthful answer to this question. How many of you have ever been jealous of the Sisters of Fire?”
Noah
They all laughed.
Adam Stark, a by-the-book officer busied himself cutting off a piece of pizza then stated blandly, “I’m not scared or jealous. They follow the rules, are good firefighters, so I don’t care what they do in their spare time.”
“They got Trish Mackenzie out of a messy relationship last year when her ex practically went berserk.” This from Jarek. The news of the shooting that night had affected the entire department. And the cops even more.
“Come on, Adam,” Tim said. “Don’t you ever wish you had somebody to unburden yourself with?
He finished chewing a bite. “Maybe I could have used some support when me and Beth split.”
“That’s exactly what I’m getting at.” Tim smiled. “I bet my badge that all of us have had things in our lives, things we’re doing, where it would be good, beneficial to have a group of guys support you.”
“I think it’d be great.” Tommy again. “Maybe you could give me tips on dating, Carson.”
“Sorry Cap,” Jarek Zenko said. “But are you asking us if we want to form a group like them? Because I can’t see me baring my soul to you guys while we sit around drinking wine.”
The guys laughed again.
“But you have a soul to bare, Jarek. I know you do, most significantly about being a soldier. Far as I know, you won’t talk about it.”
“I don’t want to.”
“I understand.” He scanned them all. “Listen, I picked you guys because I have an intuition about you. And because I think we—all firefighters actually—could use some friends to let down with.”
Tommy asked, “Does Chief Redman know about this?”
Joe Redman, the chief, was a good leader and open to new ideas.
“I told him about the concept. No names, though. He said to go for it. He loves the Sisters of Fire.”
Carson frowned. “I don’t know. We got our groups at the firehouse. We’re like family.”
“Ah, there’s the key point. You’re all officers. When you’re put in charge of the group, become a captain or a lieutenant, you’re really relegated to the outside of the family. Anybody dispute that?”
“I don’t dispute it. I just don’t mind the distance,” Adam said. “Being friends makes it harder to leave for another position.”
“Which is exactly the point. So, what I’m proposing is the six of us, officers, get together periodically to watch a game at Brothers&Sisters,” the firefighter pub “or Wink’s Bar and Grill. It’s quieter there. We can also do some activity. Like bowling. Have a basketball pickup game. Ax throwing.”
“Hey, the girls went to ax throwing.” This from Carson. “Brooke Remington said they had a great time.”
Noah seemed interested. “If we’re doing stuff, we won’t talk.”
“Maybe, maybe not. But I know that before I became an officer, I used to meet my buddies at a bar, catch a game and eventually talk about myself. My family. My issues.”
“You got no issues with Ava and the kids,” Tommy quipped. “Your life’s perfect.”
“You’d be surprised at what we all keep hidden.”
“How often would we meet?” Carson asked.
“We’d decide. Though I’m thinking once a month.”
“I got four kids under eight.” Noah had it tough as his wife died a few years ago. “Even getting away once a month would be hard.”
“My girls are in high school.” Tim had thought of everything. “We won’t let them formally work so they can concentrate on school. But they babysit. And if you can’t afford it, I—”
“Nope, I could afford it. Babysitters just don’t stick around for long.”
“Your kids are great. They’re just little boys.”
“The baseball game’s starting soon,” Stark pointed out.
“Okay, we’ll stop. What I’d like from all of you is to think about forming the Brothers of Fire. For a trial period of six months. If it doesn’t work, so be it.”
“By when?” Carson asked.
“By the end of this week. And please guys, give it a shot. I, for one, have been mighty jealous of those women sisters. And I’m guessing if you’re really honest with yourself, somewhere way down deep, you are too.”
The invitation hung heavy in the air while they watched the Yankees kill the Mets.
* * *
Lacey Roth watched Malcom Johnson start to twitch as soon as he entered her office. She bolted up from her chair and over to him, grabbed him by the arms and wrestled him to the floor. Then the spasms began. She pressed a button on the front of the desk. “I need someone! My patient is seizing.”
A nurse, and her friend, Claudia Yates, entered her office and dropped down beside her. “What can I do?”
“Call 911. He needs the hospital. His lips are already blue and he’s unconscious. I can tell the seizure is going to last more than 7 minutes.” The rule for calling an ambulance for this kind of attack.
“Sure, Lacey. I got it on speed dial.”
She heard, “We have an unconscious patient who’s spasming. He has a bluish color on his lips, tongue and face and is gasping for air. We need help.” She gave the address and disconnected. “They’re on their way.”
Since Crystal City was small, they’d probably get the fire department instead, as the stations were within 3-5 minutes of the section of town they cover and ambulances serviced a larger area.
To make Malcom more comfortable, she placed a blanket under his head and Claudia covered him with another. Due to cost, the small room was sparsely furnished so there was no couch to place him on. The space held only the desk, its chair and another in front of it. But sunlight streamed in through big windows, making it pleasant.
She and Claudia stayed on their knees in case something else happened. “He’s using again?” Claudia asked.
“Yes. I could tell he was high right away.” Her heart bumped in her chest. “I can’t seem to get through to him.”
“If you can’t nobody can. Our success rate has skyrocketed since you came to Eastside.” The Eastside Clinic serviced a downtown area with free medical care.
“I wish I could work here more, but I need to be at Memorial three days a week.” She was a double board-certified child/adolescent psychiatrist and headed the psychology department at the hospital. She thought that was what she wanted until she took some clients here and saw how much help was needed.
She checked her watch. Four minutes passed when they heard footsteps; firefighters arrived at the door. They were dressed in navy blue T-shirts and trousers, not the bulky gear, as it was summer and this wasn’t a fire.
She stood up. Took note of the first guy. The tattoo on his arm was familiar. And she’d never forgotten those shoulders. When she got to his face, she said, “Oh, my God.”
“Um…” The firefighter backed up a step. Stared at her. Rightfully so. Finally, he got out, “I’m Captain Zenko. The paramedics are right behind us.”
In just a few seconds, they elbowed their way through the group, one with the ACL bag and one carrying a portable gurney. As the first dropped down—her nametag read, Trish Mackenzie. She asked, “What’s his name?”
“Malcom Jones.”
“Tell me what happened.”
“He came in stoned for our appointment. I could tell he was high when he started to twitch, then seize. I’m not a practicing medical doctor, but I knew what to do.”
While the medics took his blood pressure and examined his eyes, listened to his heart, the sexy firefighter who’d made her scream in a hotel room months ago asked, “What are you?”
“I’m an adolescent psychiatrist.”
Mackenzie stood while the other one raised the gurney. “We’ll take the patient.” She looked at the captain. “Two of you can help.”
Two of the guys came fully into the room and picked up the boy’s torso on one side and feet on the other and moved him to the gurney. Dead weight was heavy.
“Thanks, Doctor,” Mackenzie said.
“You’re welcome.”
