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Propane? Fuck me! “Scanlon, get the probie and get out of there. Now!”

“Incident Command, copy? Captain Vaughn! Clear the building. Propane fumes are being reported inside. Evacuate immediately. Repeat! Evacuate immediately. Take the lines back thirty feet.”

I pulled my mask into place and headed for the door. Two of my firefighters were in harm’s way inside, and two were a yard away on the outside. I’d been the one to send them there. No way was I going to let anything happen to them.

“How did the owner of that tract of land have no security to detect that one of the gangs was cooking meth in there?” Rocco Collins asked. Procter Williams hadn’t been released from his doctor’s care after spraining his ankle, but we all made it back to the station unscathed, so that was a huge win.

After we put out the fire, law enforcement arrived and took over the scene. Our theory that the building was being used by a gang to cook crystal meth was confirmed when we found a secret room filled with meth lab paraphernalia. There was another room with aging and compromised propane tanks, which was where the leak was confirmed.

Of course Scanlon only noticed the smell because she removed her SCBA mask, which was going to get her an ass-chewing in the morning, along with bathroom cleaning duty. It would be a good reminder for her that if we don’t follow the rules, someone dies. Thankfully, it didn’t happen on this run.

After a shower, I went to the office to finish up the report on the fire and send it off to Battalion Command. After clicking submit, I stood and stretched my back and popped my neck before glancing around the room.

There was a couch and a twin bed in the office, but I usually slept in the bunkroom with my firefighters. After the day I’d had, I decided to sack out in the office so I could check on Jordan without bothering my crew.

It was just after eleven by the time we got everything restocked and call-ready, but Jordan rarely went to bed early, so I was hoping he’d still be up. After typing out two separate texts and deleting both, I finally simplified it.

Jordan, how’s the hand?

Hi, Thatcher. It’s fine. I got a call from my surgeon that he wants me to come in on Friday to check the incision. Riv is taking me before we go to Sound Wave Studios to work on another new song. Were you involved in that fire at Playa Del Ray? I saw the story on the news tonight.

Yes, our station was there for backup. It was a mess, but there were no casualties or injuries. We call that a success. What are you doing? I can take you Friday morning. I owe you a ride.

You don’t have to do that. I appreciate your offer, but Riv will be going that way anyway. You’re okay after the fire?

I’m fine, I promise. How are you filling your time?

How lame was that? Man, I had no fucking game.

I’m writing lyrics. Riv’s been composing and sending me music, so I’ve been trying to come up with lyrics to fit the mood. We’re trying to rock up a few of the songs I’ve written. We’re a damn rock band, not a boy band! LOL!

I laughed to myself at his emphatic exclamation points.

Is it so bad if you’ve found another genre you’re enjoying at the moment? I love the things you’ve let me hear so far. Your older songs are great, but I’m more of a mellow song kinda guy. I have enough excitement at my day job.

I’ll go grocery shopping in the morning before I come home. If you think of anything you want or need, let me know. You better get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow. Sweet dreams. XO

Just texting with him gave me a light feeling. I just had to figure out what I wanted from or with him. I didn’t want him to get away from me, but how did I pursue him? It had been a long damn time since my ill-fated relationship with Jacob Tester, and that ended horribly.

I didn’t want history to repeat itself.

Chapter Thirteen

JD

I’ll go grocery shopping in the morning before I come home. If you think of anything you want or need, let me know. You should get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow. Sweet dreams. XO

“What does XO mean?” I said aloud as I sat on the couch in Thatcher’s living room, trying to decode what his last text meant.

Suddenly, a voice I didn’t recognize spoke up. “Good evening, Thatcher. XO stands for ‘hugs and kisses,’ with X representing kisses and O representing hugs. The term is commonly used to express affection in messages, letters, or on social media.”

It wasn’t a surprise that Thatcher had a smart device. He was a busy man with a lot of shit to manage, and an electronic brain would be helpful to him since he didn’t have a partner. God, I wanted to be important enough to Thatcher that he’d tell me shit so I could help keep track of his life.

I scrolled through my contacts and called River… And it went to voicemail. Of course. It was damn near midnight.

I closed my lyric notebook and grabbed my pen and blanket to go to bed. Thatcher was right. I did need to get some rest. Thatcher would return home tomorrow for two days, and I’d missed him a lot. I was looking forward to his return, and I hoped he came back rested as well.

As I was about to brush my teeth, my phone chimed, so I picked it up to see a text from River.