Chapter Eight

O nly the magnitude of the emergency call kept Kerry's thoughts from wandering to Keegan and the scary territory they'd entered. An inebriated semitruck driver had fallen asleep while driving over a busy bridge. He'd jerked awake when the front right side of his bumper scraped along the side of the bridge, overcorrected, and lost control of the semitruck hauling a trailer full of goods. He'd gone left of center and crashed through the steel-enforced concrete barrier rail on the opposite side of the bridge. The only thing that kept the truck from plummeting hundreds of feet into the river below was the trailer wedged between the bridge's steel cantilever arms. According to Curtis, his crew captain, the truck cab was dangling over the side of the bridge. Rescuing the driver meant lowering someone down to the driver's-side door and hauling the man back up. Kerry was that someone.

It seemed ole Frank Tallus wasn't so damn concerned about nepotism when his new buddy Chuck couldn't get the job done. Frank had given him a bullshit excuse just hours ago about why Hart's Creek Township was looking at other companies to fill their contractual needs. Now wasn't the time for Kerry to point out the error of Frank's ways, but they'd definitely have a lot to discuss after he got the driver to safety and his team prevented the semi from plunging into the river. Traffic was backed up for a few miles, but Kerry's emergency lights and assistance from responding officers helped him get to the barricaded bridge without incident. Several news vans were parked nearby, and their crews were giving live reports. The number of officers and crew on the bridge testified to the severity of the ordeal. An officer moved his patrol car long enough for Kerry to drive up to the action.

He parked near Curtis's massive rescue truck and greeted his crew, who were busy implementing the tasks their captain had assigned them. Curtis had broken their men into two teams—one to rescue the driver and the other to haul the vehicle safely back onto the bridge. They probably wouldn't have needed Kerry at all if not for the bit about someone dangling over the side of the bridge to rescue the driver. Kerry had a lot of experience with rappelling, climbing, and skydiving, so heights didn't usually bother him. He'd never hung from a harness over the side of a bridge, but he trusted his crew implicitly. Awareness made his scalp tingle, and Kerry knew without looking that Chuck was nearby. He'd felt the weight of the man's hateful stare enough to pick it out of a crowd, but it seemed especially malicious beneath the floodlights his crew had rigged to illuminate the scene.

"Are you about ready for me?" Kerry asked Curtis.

"Almost, boss." He glanced up from double-checking the rigging on the harness Kerry would wear. "I thought ole Frank and Chuck were going to come to blows."

Kerry grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. "Can't wait to hear all about it. I think this rescue calls for a trip to the Greasy Spoon after we leave here." It would be hours before they cleared the accident, so their options would be limited. The Greasy Spoon catered to long-haul truckers, emergency responders, and anyone unfortunate enough to work the night shift. It might not be his favorite place to eat, but they served strong coffee, crispy bacon, and waffles the size of Kerry's head. "My treat," he added.

"Even better." Curtis gave the rigging a solid tug and extended it to Kerry. "It's ready for you, boss."

Kerry quirked a brow as he accepted the gear. "Would you send your mother over the side of the bridge in this harness?"

Curtis scrunched his face in concentration. "Absolutely." His captain was the king of mama's boys, so that boosted Kerry's confidence.

"That's good enough for me," Kerry said before donning the harness and safety equipment. The crew overseeing the driver's rescue checked his rigging one last time. Curtis handed him a safety helmet and earned a snarl. "What good is that going to do me if I plummet into the river?"

"He's just afraid the helmet will obscure his face from the news cameras," Curtis told the crew. "You can put it on the driver's head during the ascension," Curtis said. "Give them a good view of your face."

A cop approached them with a cell phone pressed to his ear. "The rescue team is suited up and getting ready to come down, sir. I need you to stay calm just a while longer." So he'd been tasked with keeping the driver calm. The cop lowered the phone to mid-chest. "We almost ready here? The driver has been stranded for nearly forty minutes now."

"We're good to go," Kerry said, though he wanted to point out that there wouldn't have been a big delay if they'd contacted his rescue crew in the first place instead of Chuck the Fuck Up. "I'm doing a last check, then I'll head over." The cop walked away, and Kerry faced his crew. "Let's do this. Nice and steady, fellas."

A loud metal creak came from the big rig, and the trailer gave a violent shake. Hysterical screaming came from the side of the bridge as the trapped driver panicked. And who could blame him? Semitrailers weren't built to withstand this kind of pressure. They were built to haul things, not anchor heavy semi cabs.

"Scratch that," Kerry said. "Get me down there as fast as you can before this guy loses his cool and makes things worse."

Kerry crossed to the side of the bridge and assessed the distance down to the driver's door. Broken sobs came from the truck, and Kerry realized that keeping the driver calm might be the biggest challenge. "Hang on, buddy. I'm coming down for you right now."

He swung a leg over the barrier rail and then the other. He carefully turned around so he could keep his eyes on the truck cab while his crew lowered him down. Beyond the reach of the spotlight, the world was completely black. Kerry couldn't see the river, but he heard the rushing water below. He kept his breathing nice and even as he began his descent. The first few feet were the most nerve-racking. Kerry enjoyed skydiving at sunrise, but dangling over a river took a toll on his brain. He battled back his fear with deep breaths and by communicating with the driver.

"Not much longer now. Only about five more feet," Kerry called out. "What's your name?"

"R-r-r-onnie," came the nervous reply. "Ronnie Pettigrew."

"It's nice to meet you, Ronnie," Kerry said. "Here's what's going to happen. In a few feet, I'm going to tell you to open your truck door."

"N-n-no w-w-way," Ronnie stammered. "I'll fall out."

Kerry understood his hesitance, but he needed to move him past his fear. "I either pull you out and up through an open door, or I pull you out through the window. The first way is much easier and won't shake the truck cab nearly as much. You heard that creaking, Ronnie. That trailer is what's holding you in place. We need to avoid unnecessary vibrations." By the time he finished his spiel, Kerry was almost to the door. "Look in your side mirror. Do you see me?"

Ronnie turned his head and met Kerry's gaze in the mirror. "Yeah."

"I know what I'm doing, Ronnie. Listen to what I say, and we're both going home tonight. Okay?"

The guy nodded vigorously, then widened his eyes in alarm. Kerry could tell he was worried the jerky movement would be his doom. And it could be if they didn't act fast. "Yes."

The truck released another loud groan of protest that made Kerry very uncomfortable. "I have a crew working to stabilize the trailer, Ronnie. I want you to focus on what I'm saying. Okay?"

"Yes, sir."

"Is your seat belt on?" Kerry asked.

"Y-y-yes."

"Good. Leave it on. Open the door for me, Ronnie. You don't have to push it open wide. Just unlatch it and let me do the rest of the work."

The front end of the truck sustained a lot of damage, but the driver's door released without incident. "Good job. Just hang tight." Once he was level with the door, Kerry offered the man what he thought was a reassuring smile. Ronnie still held his cell phone to his ear, and Kerry asked him to disconnect and give his full attention to the rescue. "I've got some safety gear we're going to put on you, Ronnie. I'll attach your harness to mine before we release your seat belt." The driver shook his head, but Kerry kept talking. "My crew will pull us up together."

"Just haul the truck back up onto the bridge," Ronnie said. "That's what the cop said the other guy was going to do."

Kerry knew the identity of the "other guy" without being told. Chuck hadn't learned a damn thing from his previous mistake, but at least someone had been smart enough to stop him before he killed someone with his stupidity. Kerry carefully opened the driver's-side door and laid the harness on Ronnie's lap. The driver stared down at it and recoiled like Kerry had set a venomous snake there instead. Another metallic protest from above emphasized that Kerry didn't have time to coddle Ronnie or debate with him. He put a little starch in his voice and said, "Listen up, Ronnie. The first responders didn't go with the other guy's idea because it sucked. I'm down here for a reason, and that's because I'm the best at what I do. Do you want the best?"

Ronnie swallowed hard. "Yes, sir."

"Good." Kerry offered encouragements as he efficiently helped Ronnie put on the harness. The driver trembled with fear, but he didn't protest one time. Kerry double-checked the fit and security of the safety gear. He practically climbed into the cab so he could tether Ronnie to himself. The integrated seat belt kept Ronnie secure in the chair, but it was also in the way. There'd been no way to work around it unless Ronnie had wanted to take off the seat belt while donning the harness. That was a risk Kerry hadn't been able to afford.

"How are you going to get me out around this?" Ronnie asked frantically.

Kerry pulled the knife from his utility belt. "I'm not." He sliced through the polyester fabric with the razor-sharp blade. "I know this is scary and probably awkward, but our ascent will be easier if you wrap your arms around my neck and stay calm. Ready?"

Ronnie blew out a breath, and the alcohol fumes made Kerry's eyes water. The guy was facing a world of legal troubles, but he surely preferred that to the alternative. Ronnie eased closer and placed his arms around Kerry's neck. "Don't get any ideas."

"You're not my type," Kerry assured him.

That made Ronnie laugh, and Kerry gave his crew verbal and physical signals to pull them up. His passenger squirmed a little as soon as they cleared the cab, but he settled down with a stern admonishment.

"This is too high," Ronnie said, his voice sounding suspiciously queasy. "I might shit my pants."

"I can't believe you didn't do that when you went over the bridge," Kerry replied.

"I pissed a little, but my bowels held up."

Let's fucking keep it that way. "Don't look down," Kerry cautioned. "Either keep your eyes on me or look up at the bridge so you can gauge how close we are getting to it. Listen to the steady voices calling out commands and working hard to pull us to safety." As if the universe decided to have a little fun at Kerry's expense, a big gust of wind kicked up and made them sway from side to side.

"Oh no." It was the only warning Kerry got before Ronnie barfed all over him.

The hot, noxious fluid seeped into Kerry's clothes, and the stench made him gag. Bilious acid blazoned a trail up Kerry's esophagus, and he might've puked, too, if he'd eaten anything since lunch. Kerry swallowed the bitter bile back down and breathed through his mouth, hoping it would stave off a potential chain reaction.

"I'm so sorry," Ronnie said before bursting into sobs.

"Easy now, buddy. How are your bowels holding up?" Kerry hoped a little dark humor would take the guy's mind off his shame, but it only made him cry harder. Christ, Kerry hoped he hadn't shitted himself too. He didn't mean to make the guy feel worse than he already did. Would Ronnie sue him too? Accuse Kerry of verbally abusing him during the rescue? "Hang in there. It's almost over."

Ronnie looked up, his face covered in tears, snot, and vomit. His red eyes widened in surprise. "We're almost there."

A few more feet and they'd be even with the bottom of the bridge. A few more after that, and the crew would pull them up and over the railing. Kerry would've breathed an enormous sigh of relief if the stench of vomit wouldn't make him sick.

"Did I hurt anyone?" Ronnie asked solemnly. "I don't remember hitting anyone before I went over the side of the bridge."

"I just arrived minutes after I descended to you, but I didn't see any damaged cars on the bridge. I think you got lucky, man."

Ronnie sniffled and nodded. "This is the wake-up call I needed to get sober." He must've realized how it sounded and grimaced. "This must be the rock bottom I've heard so much about."

Kerry considered the rocky bottom of the river flowing beneath them and was grateful Ronnie hadn't literally hit it. He wasn't in a position to counsel anyone on their habits and coping mechanisms. Kerry's vice used to be engaging in meaningless sex to avoid forming attachments. And yeah, he thought about the habit in past tense because he would find healthier ways to deal with his childhood trauma. The harness jolted, and Ronnie's hold around Kerry's neck tightened. But first, he needed to survive the rescue.

"Ease up," Kerry groused.

"Sorry. Sorry." Ronnie loosened his grip but didn't let go until the crew grabbed their rigging and hoisted them both up and over the railing. "Holy fuck. We made it," Ronnie said when their feet landed on solid ground. Then, he promptly fainted and slumped against Kerry.

"This was not the cuddling I had in mind tonight," Kerry told Curtis.

The EMTs rushed in and checked on Ronnie's condition as Kerry's crew worked to separate the man from Kerry. Ronnie's pulse was strong, and he came around immediately, but the EMTs insisted he get checked out at the nearest hospital. Kerry wished the man well and walked away on trembling legs. There was a ton they still needed to do to secure the truck and haul it back on the bridge. Kerry wouldn't do that soaked in Ronnie's vomit. He walked to his truck and removed a spare change of clothes. Not caring who was watching, Kerry stripped down to his boxers and used the sanitizing wipes to clean himself off. The stringent alcohol smell was a welcome reprieve.

The same officer who'd approached him earlier walked toward him, carrying a red bag with a hazardous material symbol all over it. It reminded him that one round of wipes wouldn't be enough. Kerry thanked him and placed his ruined clothes and wipes into the bag. The cop was young, handsome, and didn't hide the interest in his light blue gaze. Kerry had met more than a few of his hookups this way, but those days were over.

He completed his second round of wipes, tossed them in the bag, and sealed it. "Appreciate it." Kerry returned the bag with a neutral smile that diffused the interest in the other man's eyes. The cop offered a polite nod and left Kerry to get dressed.

Adrenaline took control of his nervous system now that the worst of the danger was behind him. Kerry hadn't dwelled on all the things that could've gone wrong while dangling over the side of the bridge. His complete focus had been on rescuing the truck driver. Kerry's hands shook as he stepped into a clean pair of pants and fastened them around his hips. They still had to haul the rig up and back over the side and clean up the debris, so he cycled through deep breaths to settle his nerves and steady his limbs.

Heavy footsteps rapidly approached, and Kerry knew who they belonged to without looking. He'd felt a not-so-sudden disturbance in the force. Those weighted feet belonged to a man who'd bitten off more than he could chew…again, but the burdens Chuck wore around his neck like an albatross weren't Kerry's fault. And his days of playing Mr. Nice Guy were over, though Kerry had no intention of allowing Chuck to draw him into an argument with news crews loitering around and the freaking lawsuit hovering over his head.

"Always gotta show your ass, don't you?"

Chuck's sneering voice nearly canceled out Kerry's good intentions, so he thought of the way Keegan looked sitting in his kitchen, his lips swollen from their kisses. He bought himself a few more moments by slipping on a long-sleeve thermal shirt with his company logo on it. The temperature was dropping, and Kerry didn't plan to leave until the rest of the crew did. He snagged a clean service shirt and slid his right arm into it as he turned to face Chuck.

"I think what you meant to say was that I'm always coming along to clean up your mistakes. At least someone got smart enough to stop you this time." Kerry slid his left arm through the other sleeve and met Chuck's menacing gaze as he buttoned the front. He'd rather miss a buttonhole than react slowly to a sucker punch from his former employee. Frank Tallus approached them, but Kerry kept his gaze on Chuck instead of acknowledging the trustee. "I'd appreciate it if you and your crew would clear out so my guys can finish our work," Kerry said.

Chuck took two more steps forward and jabbed the air with his finger. "Listen here, hotshot. You didn't call me down to the scene, and you won't ask me to leave it." Chuck got in Kerry's face and opened his mouth to say more, but Frank slapped a hand on his shoulder and forcefully pulled him back.

"I called you here," the trustee said, "and I'm telling you to leave. You could've killed that guy tonight, Chuck. I can't believe I considered giving your company an exclusive contract. Temporary insanity is the only logical explanation."

"Bullshit," Chuck snarled. "In the time it took this asshole to arrive and suit up, I could've safely hauled the truck and driver to safety."

Frank pointed toward one end of the barricaded bridge. "I want you out of here now, and I won't hesitate to call an officer over here to make sure it happens."

Chuck spat a glob of tobacco juice at Frank's feet before turning his glower at Kerry. "This isn't over."

"Actually, it is," Kerry replied calmly. "You had a chance at redemption but shot yourself in the foot at the first opportunity. You have no one to blame but yourself. I'd like to offer a piece of friendly advice, Chuck. Be very mindful of what you say about me, my company, and my business practices. I won't hesitate to take legal action to protect my reputation."

"Fuck you," he snarled before stomping away.

"Not my type," Kerry said under his breath before he turned his attention to the trustee. "Don't wait too long to send over my signed contract, Frank. I'm starting to think I don't charge enough for my services."

"It's already sitting in your inbox," Frank said. "I'd already gathered the necessary signatures at the last budget meeting before Chuck approached me. I thought I'd give the idiot a trial run." He huffed out a breath before scrubbing a hand over his face. "I knew I'd made a mistake within the first five minutes of his arrival. I emailed your signed contract as soon as I had to call your dispatcher and grovel."

Kerry checked his phone and saw that he had an email from Frank in his inbox. "We all make mistakes. At least this one wasn't fatal."

Raised voices from across the bridge caught his attention. His crew was hard at work attaching cables to the rear of the truck cab. They'd positioned heavy-duty service vehicles at both corners and hooked the thick winching cables to the corners. The teams worked in tandem and communicated with the winch operators at the rescue rigs. Kerry was immensely proud of his team and excused himself from Frank to join them. The semi cab was heavy, and the first several moments were wrought with tension as metal and fiberglass protested the rescue attempt. Gravity was a hellacious beast to battle, but the tide turned in their favor once they got the truck's rear tires onto the asphalt. The truck worked with them instead of against them. Metal and debris broke off the damaged front end of the truck and fell into the river below, but everyone cheered when the mostly intact truck rolled to a stop on the bridge. Both the semitruck and trailer had sustained too much damage to be roadworthy, but his heavy-duty tow trucks could safely haul them away.

The cleanup was a massive effort, but his guys worked fast and efficiently. The promise of a hearty breakfast probably didn't hurt things. By the time they reached the Greasy Spoon, his tow truck drivers had already unloaded the wrecked truck and trailer and beat them to the small diner. The place was practically empty, so they pushed two tables together and settled in for one hell of a tasty meal. The server approached their tables, and Kerry had to do a double take because he had a build like Keegan's and even had a similar coloring. The eyes assessing Kerry were a cool green and not the warm hazel he craved.

"Hello, fellas." The server gazed around the group before stopping at Kerry again. "I'm Joey, and I'll be taking care of you tonight." Kerry didn't miss the sly grins and exchanged glances between his crew. This wasn't their first rodeo, but the outcome would differ vastly from what they expected. Joey tore his gaze away from Kerry and gave the other guys his attention again. "Are you familiar with the menu, or would you like recommendations?"

"We're ready," Curtis said, rubbing his hands together in glee. "This is going to cost ya, boss."

Kerry chuckled and shook his head. "Money well spent."

Joey watched their byplay and started taking orders at the opposite end of the table. He quickly learned that they were Greasy Spoon experts by the time he reached Kerry, who he'd saved for last. "And you, handsome?"

By this point, it had been over twelve hours since his last meal. "I'll have the trucker's breakfast platter and a side of biscuits and gravy."

Joey looked up from jotting down the order. "That's a lot of food."

"He's a lot of man," Curtis said.

Kerry threw him a warning glance before smiling at Joey. "And a large orange juice, please."

The server blinked a few times before he continued making notes. He took a few steps back and crashed into the empty table behind him. Joey's cheeks turned pink, and he laughed nervously. "I'll just turn your orders in. It won't be long."

The crew waited for Joey to leave before they started razzing Kerry in low voices. He took their good-natured teasing but steered the conversation to the pending lawsuit, Chuck's blustering remarks, and Frank's change of heart about the contract renewal. This was the first they'd heard about any of it, and they hung on to his every word until the food arrived. Joey brought a young lady from the kitchen to help him pass out the plates. Her gaze bounced between Kerry and Joey as the pair worked in tandem around the table. The attention wasn't subtle, but Kerry didn't acknowledge or encourage it. Keegan might not be waiting for him at home, but his little lamb had one hell of a death grip on Kerry's battered heart.

The servers shared a giggle as they left the crew alone to devour their food. Kerry's plate was overflowing with bacon, sausage, scrambled eggs, hash browns, grits, and two split biscuits smothered in sausage gravy. He second-guessed his ability to eat it all until he bit into a crispy strip of bacon. Next thing he knew, Kerry was using a stolen piece of toast to mop up the last bit of gravy. He shoved his empty plate away and held up his hands like a victor in a major battle. Kerry's digestive system was probably going to punish him for his wicked ways, but he was going to savor the meal until then.

Joey returned with the check and a smile for Kerry. The crew watched expectantly as Kerry pulled cash from his wallet to cover the bill and a generous tip. He didn't write his phone number down on the slip or attempt to get Joey's. He simply thanked him for a wonderful meal and scooted his chair back from the table.

"Wow," Curtis said once they reached the parking lot. "Is your eyesight going bad? It's not like you to miss all those signals."

"I didn't miss anything," Kerry replied. "Just not interested."

The crew stopped and gaped at him as if he'd confessed to being a vampire. They looked among each other, their confusion etched on their faces, before awareness dawned slowly.

"Who is he?" Curtis asked.

Kerry shook his head as he walked to his truck. "Good night, fellas."

He could hear their excited chatter as they tried to figure out who had snagged Kerry's attention. They'd find out soon enough, but until then, Kerry wanted to have Keegan all to himself. The toll of the past few days caught up to him during his trip home. Kerry sighed in relief when he pulled into his driveway and wasted no time heading upstairs to his room. He took a scalding hot shower and tried not to recall the driver getting sick on him, especially with such a full stomach. A shower usually woke up his deprived dick, but even it was too damn tired.

Kerry dried off and slid between the sheets. He closed his eyes and allowed his brain to play a new set of what-ifs, this time imagining what might've happened if the emergency phone call hadn't interrupted them. Kerry got as far as stripping Keegan down to his underwear before he crashed.