Page 12 of Burn Protocol

I swallow at the words. Part of me is tempted to ask the Chief if there is another woman I could interview, but another part is already drawn to Elena too much. Plus, if I could get the ice queen of the ER to become my friend, I can definitely get this lieutenant to open up.

So, I offer the Chief a soft smile and nod gently.

“I shall, sir.”

He smiles back at that and then huffs a laugh.

“Then you’ve already gotten further than most. I’d call that a victory, Miss Carter.”

He raises his glass of water to toast me. We both chuckle and I tip my imaginary hat. After another few pleasantries, he guides me back to the door and wishes me a good day. Our meeting clearly pleased him. Good, one friend in my pocket.

The moment I step outside of his office, I realize I don’t know my way through these hallways. I am about to turn around and ask the Chief when I see Elena casually leaning against the wall, waiting for me.

When my eyes meet hers, she inclines her chin slightly.

“Good talk?”

I nod. “You waited for me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. This place is a maze and you are my responsibility. I’m here to keep you safe, Maya.”

Hearing her say my name like that sends flutters down my stomach and runs my throat dry immediately.

“Well, thank you either way,” I say gruffly.

She just holds my gaze and then, once again, tilts her head in a silent order for me to follow her. And I do.

The quick succession of Maya’s boots against the tiles alerts me. As I glance past my elbow, I notice that she has to take two steps for each single one of mine. I slow down enough so that she can keep up more easily, but not enough that she’d notice I did so.

“Are we heading back to the bay?”

Her voice comes out at a high pitch and I can’t help but grin. So, she did like it. Good girl. As soon as the thought crosses my mind, I blink.

But before I can think more about it, a deep vibration fills the hallway. Shit. I scowl as my feet are already pushing against the tile.

“Follow me and try to keep up,” I growl over my shoulder as I head for the bay.

Before she can reply, the radio on my belt crackles and dispatch comes through.

“77 Carrer de Pavia. Medium house fire, possibly started in the kitchen. Smoke and fire reported. Engine 2, ladder 1, rescue 4, command 2, respond. One resident evacuated with smoke inhalation. No entrapments reported. Proceed with standard procedure.”

Her first ride-along and it can’t just be a cat. Typical.

I pull the dark-blue polo over my head and rush toward the lockers at the back end of the bay. The overhead speakers buzz loudly as the rest of my crew storms in.

“Engine 2, ladder 1, rescue 4, respond to reported house fire. 77 Carrer de Pavia. Time out at 10:43.”

I toss my polo on a shelf, kick off my shoes, and jump into my bunker boots. As I pull the attached pants over my hips and my duty belt, I toss Maya a quick look.

“Remember what I told you?”

She stares at me for a moment, panting. God, she’s worse than a rookie.

“Your turnout coat,” I hiss, hoping my crew won’t hear it.

“Oh,” she stammers, and looks around dazed.

“You left it, didn’t you?”