Page 13 of Savage Keepsakes

She stands and pulls me in for a tight hug. “Get rid of him, then order a new fucking bed. Buy a dildo while you’re at it.”

I hold her arms as I pull back and shake my head.

“Babe, you might be able to fake it with him, but I damn well know you haven’t been properly laid in a while. It’s about time you have all the orgasms you deserve.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” I say with a smirk as I let her go. “Love you.”

“I love you, Lucy,” JoJo calls out. “Keep pushing forward.”

On my drive to work, I swing by my favourite café, grab two extra-large coffees from the drive-thru, and put them in my cup holders. One for me and the other for my favourite coworker. Thankfully, my hands are no longer shaking from my run-in with Miles.

Artie’s been my partner since I started at the station. He has a fatherly disposition that has always comforted me. He’s also been a great mentor, teaching me the ins and outs of the job, the rules both written and those unsaid.

Walking into the station, I set the coffees down on the staffroom counter before heading to the locker room to change.

On my way out, I’m met with the lively atmosphere of the main area, where the television hums in the background, the sound of fingers dancing across keyboards fills the air, and playful banter echoes between colleagues.

It’s a generally calm place, as the vast majority of my coworkers are chill.

I lift the coffee to my lips as I sidle up to Artie and hand him his.

“Thanks for thinking of me, Lucy. I don’t think there’s enough caffeine for today.”

Artie chuckles as we sit. Some days my job is a ton of sitting or writing. Other times, it’s transporting people to the hospital. Transfers typically occupy a substantial amount of our shifts.

Being an EMT is not as glamorous as movies and television make it out to be, but I’ve spent some of my best days helping people.

“I suppose it’s a bad time to tell you I got you decaf, then.” I smile as his eyes widen in mock horror. He knows I’d never do such a thing. The only place decaf belongs is the trash.

“Are you settling in alright?” Artie runs a hand through his short grey hair.

“It’s been a lot lately, but hopefully I’ll be able to figure some shit out soon.” I look down at my takeout cup, wanting to talk about anything else.

“Have you heard more about the serial killer in town?” Artie asks.

“No, I thought they caught the guy that was taking women.” It was all over the news.

“They got him, but this is another one. Real sick. I want you to be safe if you’re out and about.”

I take a drink of coffee. “What’s hedoing that’s so sick??”

“No one knows. That’s the problem. No bodies are showing up, people are going missing, and families are getting letters with pieces of people in them,” he says with a shudder.

“Shit, that’s messed up. Stealing someone’s world, and then rubbing it in the family’s face? Sadistic,” I whisper.

“Are you okay?” he asks. He somewhat knows about the bullshit going on.

“Had a run-in with Miles before work.” I say as I pull our schedule binder out of the drawer.

“Did he hurt you?” Artie’s blue eyes darken and his face hardens.

“Nah, I kneed him in the nuts. He just won’t leave, and I’m really over it.” I mimic his confidence to hide any suspicion of fear.

“Proud of you. We’ll get him the hell out.”

I smile and nod. “I see we’re going to a school this week. Who gets to wear the costume this time?”

The dog mascot has ten years’ worth of sweat inside it, and always stinks of feet. But the kids always love it, which helps when trying to hold their attention.

---