Page 149 of Burn

Finn looks at me, smiles, and points to Owen, silently holding up a twenty-dollar bill.

We nod, our bets agreed upon. Owen may have him on size, but I’m betting Corbin’s a scrappy motherfucker.

“Listen, asshole.” Corbin steps forward, uncrossing his arms. “I don’t see no stripes on your shirt, so I don’t have to listen to you.”

The thing about these two is they’re both right. At least, they think they’re right. Tell either of them they’re not, and heated words are exchanged.

Owen gives a bitter laugh. “Watch who you’re talking to.”

“No, I don’t think so.” Corbin looks over at Owen for a minute. “I’m done talking.”

And then he punches him.

Big mistake. Even knowing my lack of fucks for hitting people, I wouldn’t punch Owen. I also think Corbin momentarily forgets the height difference between the two of them.

Guys on the engine attempt to break it up, but Finn and I try to talk them out of it.

“Just let them fight,” I tell them, tossing twenty bucks on the table. I can’t keep the grin off my face.

And they fight until both of them are bloody and Cap breaks it up, looking to Finn and me for answers. “What the fuck is going on in here?”

“What?” We all look at him like he’s crazy. At least once a week a fight breaks out in this house. Why is he surprised now?

“Stop fucking around.” He shoves Owen and Corbin apart and calls them into his office.

There goes our entertainment.

And then the sirens. “Engine 25, Ladder 10 . . . Battalion 2 . . . 600 block Yessler Way . . .”

Owen and Corbin are still fuming when they get on the trucks, but thankfully they manage to put their differences aside.

“Why is the voice on the machine a woman’s?” Finn asks, referring to the operator who gives out the job specifics over the intercom. “Why can’t it be something cool like Darth Vader or something?”

Owen lowers his voice to a deep rasp. “Engine 25, Ladder 10, MVA on Pine Street.” He pats Finn and hauls himself on the truck. “Because a woman’s voice is sexier.”

We’re pulling out of the station and Owen nudges my ribs. “Do something for me.”

It’s not a question. It’s a demand.

“What?”

“I’m assigned to cleaning the bathrooms for a week. You do it.”

Is he fucking serious? “No way.”

He pulls out his phone. “Fine. I’m putting that video of Mila giving you a lap dance on YouTube.”

“You wouldn’t?”

“I would. You stole my airbags. You owe me. And if you don’t do it, dude’s gonna be beatin’ their meat to the sight of Mila’s perfect ass.”

I punch him in the stomach as hard as I can. He only laughs.

“I bet Finn will even spank it.”

Finn’s eyes widen as he stares at me. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“Oh, he would,” Jay adds, entertained by this.

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