Rock House Grill Read online

  Table of Contents

  Excerpt

  Rock House Grill

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  A word about the author…

  Thank you for purchasing

  Also available from The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  “Easy, you’re going to be okay.” A soft voice eased through the chaos around him. The owner of the voice grabbed his arms and held them in a firm but gentle grip. “I’m right here with you. You are not alone.”

  “Can hardly m-move.” His voice slurred. “C-can’t see anything.”

  “You’ve been in an accident. I’m an EMT with the ambulance squad,” the velvety voice calmly explained. “You can’t see well because we’re under a tarp. Hold still, okay?”

  “‘K.” A small light flickered at the edge of his vision. It shone into a bag next to him. Penlight.

  “You’re restrained to a board. It’s to keep your head from moving and causing more injury.” She continued to talk to him.

  The voice reached down somewhere inside him, calming and peaceful, so he focused on it. A glow from spotlights on the outside lit whatever covered them. The shadow gave the woman the appearance of a halo—like an angel.

  Rock House Grill

  by

  D. V. Stone

  Impact, Book 1

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Rock House Grill

  COPYRIGHT © 2020 by D. V. Stone

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: [email protected]

  Cover Art by Tina Lynn Stout

  The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  PO Box 708

  Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

  Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

  Publishing History

  First Sweetheart Rose Edition, 2020

  Print ISBN 978-1-5092-3026-6

  Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-3027-3

  Impact, Book 1

  Published in the United States of America

  Dedication

  I want to thank the following:

  Judy and Elaine. You ladies were great support and help in the early stages of Rock House Grill.

  ~*~

  Renee Wildes, author of Marek’s New World,

  Finalist in the Got Wolf? Contest & Anthology

  —through TWRP

  ~*~

  Amber Daulton, fellow Wild Rose Author

  whose help and encouragement

  through the editing process has been vital.

  ~*~

  Wild Rose Press for taking a chance on a new author.

  ~*~

  My editor, ELF, for her patience and teaching.

  ~*~

  And mostly, my husband, Peter.

  He is my first reader and helped with

  keeping the ambulance and police information real.

  Your love and support can’t be counted. TWF

  Chapter One

  Five years ago

  Beep, Beep, Beep.

  “Station 0900, stand by for dispatch.” The alert from the Slate Quarry Emergency Service of Northeastern Pennsylvania blasted inside the squad house.

  Shay McDowell slashed a mark down the check-off sheet of ambulance supplies when she jumped. Every time the loudspeaker went off, it scared her to death. She stashed the clipboard in the cabinet at the back of the ambulance and scrambled out of the rig. Jogging past the clothes rack, she grabbed her blue jumpsuit with its yellow reflective stripes and Slate Quarry Emergency Response embroidered on the back. Hopping first on one foot and then the other, she pulled it on while making a beeline for the driver’s seat. First one there got dibs.

  With both legs in, she managed to shrug the suit over her shoulders without falling on her butt. Zipping it up with one hand, she used her other hand to disconnect the plug charging the battery from the inlet on the side of the ambulance. A yank on the door handle, and she was in. Joanna, her partner, and the backup crew emerged from the break room. Shay slammed the door closed and rolled down the window.

  “Too slow.” She winked as Joanna’s face appeared in the driver’s side window. “We’ve got to go.”

  Joanna stuck her tongue out in return and then jogged around the front toward the passenger seat. Since completing the two-hundred-and twenty-hour course to become certified Emergency Medical Technicians, the two had become tight. The training had been tough and the testing even tougher.

  Shay snorted a laugh at her best friend and teammate. They might lack a bit of muscle, but between the two of them, they had enough smarts and ingenuity to get the job done. Saving lives was a rewarding and sometimes discouraging job, but she wouldn’t trade her helmet and gear for anything.

  “Station 0900…” The dispatcher’s voice filled the building with the address.

  A ball of nerves began to tangle in Shay’s gut.

  “Isn’t that Nick’s part of town?” Joanna climbed into the rig.

  “Yeah, his transfer to the West Side police department went through last month.” And Shay hadn’t seen much of her husband since. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

  The dispatcher’s voice interrupted. “Domestic dispute. Proceed with caution. Police are on the way.”

  A communal groan went up, even from the guys getting into the second ambulance as backup. Family altercations could be ugly scenes, often with multiple patient injuries. Usually, a second ambulance followed when available.

  “Jeez, I hate domestics.” Joanna set her helmet on the floor and strapped in. “Don’t worry. Nick will be fine, and if he starts acting like a jerk, I’ve got your back.”

  Time to change the subject. “Remember the last domestic? You never know when someone will get it in their head to target one of us.”

  “Yeah, that wasn’t fun.” Her partner tossed her short black bob.

  At the time, Shay’d been aiding a woman who had a black eye. As the police slapped handcuffs on the boyfriend, the woman shoved Shay out of the way and jumped on the nearest cop. “Don’t hurt him. I love him.”

  Shay’s hip was bruised for a month.

  “You guys going, or are ya gonna sit and chat all night?” Zach’s voice came over the private channel.

  She grabbed the mic from Joanna. “We’re going. Just remember who’s lead tonight.”

  “Then lead,” Zach replied.

  Taking the mic back, Joanna keyed it. “Dispatch, Ambulance 9
3 is en route.”

  With one hand Shay flipped on the buttons controlling the ambulance lights, then shifted into drive and pulled out.

  “10-4, 93. PD requests you proceed with caution and wait outside until they have the scene under control. They’ll give an all-clear. Initial reports are of a stabbing.”

  “Is a medevac helicopter on standby?” Joanna glanced over, squinching her nose, and muttered, “I hate knife wounds.”

  “Me too.” Stab wounds were difficult to assess. Small surface wounds could cover near-fatal injuries to organs and major blood vessels.

  “Affirmative,” responded the otherworldly voice.

  As she adjusted the side mirror, Shay spotted the guys rolling out behind them in the second ambulance.

  “Things still bad?” The other woman stuck a piece of cinnamon gum in her mouth before offering one.

  “Yep.” Shay shook her head and gave the short answer. Her situation was hard enough living; she didn’t want to talk about it too.

  “Is Nick still trying to get you to quit?” Her partner glanced up from checking her tool belt. “Cutting you off from everyone isn’t right, ya know.”

  “Nope, now he just doesn’t talk to me.” She swallowed hard, forcing the words through a throat tight from holding back tears. “He’s so cold. I don’t know him anymore.”

  “Do you want me to ask Kyle to speak to him?”

  “Is that your husband’s code for beating Nick up?” She glanced at her friend and then quickly back to the road. “Besides, aren’t you a pacifist?”

  Snorting, Joanna lifted the mic from its holder and keyed it. “93 to 92, we’re almost there. Let’s roll in quiet and wait at the end of the block.”

  Shay killed the red emergency lights and pulled off to the side of the road. The ambulance carrying the guys parked behind them. “93 to dispatch, we’re on location.”

  Down the block, in front of a brick duplex, several police cars sat, their red and blue halogen bulbs lighting up the street.

  Waiting would be tough. Worrying about Nick, she nibbled her thumbnail. She hated the way things were between them. Why couldn’t he understand? Accept who she was?

  At first, their marriage seemed wonderful, everything Shay ever dreamed. Things went downhill fast. Nick had convinced her to resign the job at the cafe after nagging her for months. She found it easier to give in than to fight about it. When she balked at quitting the squad, he punished her by distancing himself. Somehow, he knew the best way to get at her—withdraw affection. Lately, he grew more emotionally distant than ever. They were strangers sharing the same address.

  “Here comes someone. Let’s get ready.” Joanna leaned forward and peered through the windshield. “Uh-oh, he looks mad.”

  Shay glanced over to see Michael, a member of the police force, stalking toward the rig. She rolled down the window as he came alongside. “Hey, what’s going on?”

  “Stay there.” He held up an I’ll-be-with-you-in-a-minute finger, passed her, and went to the other ambulance.

  She couldn’t make out what they were saying until Zach cursed—loudly.

  The guys pulled around them and drove up by the police cars, then bailed out of the ambulance carrying the orange trauma bag and hurried into the house.

  “No way. We’re lead team tonight.” Shay tried to open the door.

  Michael appeared next to her window and blocked it.

  No one stopped Joanna. She jumped out to follow Zach and Mason.

  “Let me out.” The expression on his face caused Shay’s stomach to drop. “Is Nick in there? Is he okay?” She pushed harder. “Michael, let me out.”

  “It’s not what you think, Shay.” Michael glanced toward the house. “I need you to wait here.”

  Since they’d left the door open, she could hear a woman’s shrill voice.

  “You think you’re breaking up with me? For her?”

  “Shut up, Brenda.”

  Shay’s stomach clenched when she recognized the second voice. “Get out of the way, Michael. Fine.” Turning from him, she began to climb over to the passenger side, then spotted Joanna heading back with her head down, and hands plunged deep into her pockets.

  “Let her go,” she called out. “Shay has the right to know.”

  “I’m sorry.” Michael backed away and opened the door.

  Moments later, in front of friends, colleagues, and strangers, Shay walked through the door directly into the end of her marriage.

  Nick wasn’t picking up the overtime shift as he’d claimed. He sat in a strange house with a bloody shirt next to him on the floor. “They’re nothing. Leave me alone.” Nick pushed Zach’s gloved hands away from shallow lacerations on his chest. “I’ll sign a refusal of treatment.”

  The domestic dispute quickly escalated into domestic Armageddon.

  Burning pain flared to life in Shay’s chest, and love died a quick, painful death.

  Burned-down candles glowed on the table, lighting the remains of limp pasta and half-filled glasses of red wine.

  In slow motion, Shay looked away from the table and around the room, taking in the modern decor. A picture of her husband, with another woman, sat on a slick black sideboard—a vase of roses next to it.

  Cold seeped in. A deep, abiding frigidness pushed away the burn of sorrow for what should-have-been and encased her heart. “You never once brought me flowers.”

  “Hey, take it easy.” Nick winced and glared at Zach, who squatted next to him cleaning the wound a bit vigorously.

  “Sorry.”

  Zach didn’t sound sorry.

  “Shay, it’s not what it looks like.” Nick had the decency to blush and hang his head.

  “Oh yes, honey—” Two cops blocked a blonde woman from entering the dining room. “—we’ve been together for a while. He’s leaving you to marry me.”

  Nick’s head shot up. “No, Shay, I was breaking it off. Don’t listen to her…”

  “Right.” Shay nodded. “I can see how you’d want to finish dinner and maybe one last dessert before you did.”

  “Shay, listen…”

  “No.” She raised her palm, silencing him. “I’m done listening to you.”

  “We’ll talk later.”

  Shay didn’t want to hear any more. Without a word, she turned and walked out, Joanna on her heels.

  “Bye-bye, Shay,” the nasty woman called out.

  “Shut up, Brenda,” Nick yelled back.

  Joanna led her to the passenger door of the ambulance. “I’ll drive.”

  “‘K.” Shay tripped climbing in. Only Joanna’s strong arms kept her from face-planting. Once seated, she fumbled with the seat belt until it clicked in.

  She leaned her head against the glass and stared out the window, refusing to let the tears escape. The ride back was quiet except for chatter on the radio. Zach told dispatch the patient signed off on treatment and they were a few minutes behind the other ambulance.

  While Joanna backed the rig into the bay, Shay asked the question gnawing at her. “Did you know?”

  Joanna hit the brakes a little too hard, and the ambulance came to a jolting halt. She threw the gearshift into park and turned in her seat. “No, I didn’t. Kyle had suspicions, but I couldn’t say anything without evidence.”

  “Thanks.” A rogue tear escaped and trickled down her cheek. Shay swiped it away with her sleeve. “I hoped you wouldn’t have kept it from me.”

  “Never.” Joanna reached over and put her hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Let me take you home.”

  “No, I’ll be all right.” Placing her hand over the other woman’s, she turned her head and attempted to smile. “I need some alone time.”

  “Only if you’re sure.”

  “I am.”

  Joanna walked her to her car.

  “Call me. I don’t care what time it is. If you need me, call.”

  Shay drove home in a mental fog. It took three tries to unlock the front door. The keys clattered into the bowl
on the table near the entrance. She stood in the dark foyer for a moment, listening to the buzz of appliances and smelling the eucalyptus and lavender from the wreath on the wall. This was the house where she’d been first happy, then confused. Heartbreak followed, but now numbness settled in. Flicking on the light, she wandered from room to room before heading to the kitchen, her haven. She turned on the stove and set water to boil. She needed a cup of chamomile.

  “I won’t cry. He doesn’t deserve my tears.” Easier said than done. She ripped a handful of paper towels from the roll and roughly scrubbed her face. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed the box of tea from the shelf. When the water boiled, she poured it into the cup and began to dunk the bag.

  She didn’t hear Nick come in until he startled her mid-sip.

  “Shay, I’m sorry. Let me explain.”

  “Don’t bother.” She slammed the cup of tea on the butcher-block counter, for once not caring about the splatter. “I told you what would happen if you did this.”

  “Please,” Nick pleaded. “I love you.”

  “Don’t say that,” she shouted. “Don’t ever say that again.”

  Before they’d married, she’d known his previous reputation as a ladies’ man. But he’d promised he’d changed. Promised she was the only woman he wanted.

  Stupid.

  Promises made. Promises broken.

  “I told you I wouldn’t get past it if you messed around.” She began to sob. “I said, ‘Don’t tell me you love me, and want to marry me if you’re just going to leave me behind someday.’”

  “I know.”

  “You abandoned me.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she bent forward to ease the ripping sensation around her heart.

  “Shay, I didn’t abandon you.” Nick reached for her.

  Letting go of her chest, she thrust out a hand, stopping him. “Yes, you did. You did it a while ago. I just didn’t realize it until tonight. You knew the best way to hurt me and went right for it. I loved cooking at the cafe, but you made me quit. Hardly any of my friends come around any longer. You knew about my first boyfriend and what he did, and now you betray me the same way. Good job, Nick.”

  Nick’s face paled. His mouth opened but then clamped shut. Nothing he could say would fix this.

  She skirted around him and ran into the attached office, slamming the door. With the lock engaged, Shay turned away and slid to the floor. Hugging her knees to her chest, she rested her head on them and ignored the pleas coming from the other side. Eventually, they faded away.