Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 89683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
He holstered his weapon and turned to Tripp. “Are you okay?”
“No, I’m not fucking okay, Jayme! I just got mauled by a coyote, who probably has rabies!”
“You were not mauled. Did it get your skin or just your pants?”
“No, Man! He had my leg in his mouth! His teeth were in my skin!” Tripp exclaimed.
“Okay, okay. Calm down. Let me see.”
He knelt next to Tripp’s left leg. He could see tears in the lower half of Tripp’s pant leg, right above his boot. Beyond the tears, he could see blood. Okay, it did get him.
“Let me get my first aid kit, get you cleaned up; then I’ll take you to the hospital.”
“Yeah, all right.”
He called in what happened as he went and got his first aid kit from the back seat of the truck. He had just pulled off Tripp’s boot, when Brendan and Will pulled up. Jayme used the scissors in the kit to cut the bottom of his pants so he could see what he was working with.
“Holy shit. Should we call an ambulance?” Brendan said as he came to stand at the side of the truck.
“It’s not that bad,” Jayme said. “I’ll clean him up and take him to the hospital. Can you guys take care of the coyote? Make sure it gets tested for rabies.”
“Yeah, sure.” Brendan answered.
Brendan and Will took the coyote to their truck and Jayme cleaned up the puncture holes and a couple of tears on Tripp’s lower left leg. He was probably going to need some stitches and some ice, but overall, it could have been worse. He helped Tripp into the passenger seat after dressing the wounds, then took him to the hospital.
They spent the next few hours there as Tripp got treated. He needed stitches for a few of the holes in his leg, and also a shot for the rabies. Plus, he was going to need to get four shots of the rabies vaccine over the next two weeks.
Jayme and Tripp walked in their front door around the same time as if they had finished work. Tripp limped up the stairs mumbling about his ruined pants and needing to get changed. Jayme went into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water and an ice pack for him. He brought them out to the living room and set them on the coffee table. The doctor told Tripp to keep it iced and elevated for a couple of days to keep the swelling down.
He hit his bedroom door just as Tripp stepped out of his. “Ice pack is on the coffee table for you. Go lay on the couch and put your foot up.”
Tripp nodded and gingerly made his way down the stairs. Jayme got changed out of his work clothes, and into gym shorts and a T-shirt. He went downstairs to find Tripp on the couch with his foot propped up on a couple of pillows; with the ice pack on. He looked miserable. The doctor told him to stay out of work for the week, which he wasn’t happy about.
Jayme walked over to him and smoothed his hair back from his forehead, then dropped a kiss on his lips. “How you feeling? Any pain?”
“It’s throbbing, but it’s not painful really.”
“That’s good, I guess.”
“This sucks, Man. You’re gonna be partner-less for the whole week.”
“I’ll survive.”
“But what if something happens, and you need backup?”
“That’s what I have a radio for.”
“I don’t like it.”
“Me either, but there’s nothing we can do about it. You need to heal.”
Tripp growled and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Don’t pout. It doesn’t suit you.” He smirked and started for the kitchen. “I’m going to make dinner. How does taco’s sound?”
“Delicious,” Tripp grumbled begrudgingly.
He chuckled and went about making tacos for dinner.
~~~
Jayme
Jayme was sitting all alone in his truck. He’d come to realize over the past few days, that it was extremely boring without his partner sitting next to him. He drummed on the steering wheel to the beat of the music playing on the radio. He was more than halfway through his day, and it had been fairly slow.
He had his truck sitting in a little hidey hole on the side of the road that was notorious for speeders. Most of the cars passing were doing about the speed limit, maybe a little higher, but nothing crazy. They all slowed down when they eventually saw him sitting there. Jayme was just about to leave, when a little gray Honda Civic zoomed by him. The radar on the dash had them going ninety.
“Here we go,” he muttered to himself as he pulled onto the road, and flipped on his lights and siren.
Jayme floored it, his big truck having some trouble catching up to the much quicker, smaller car. He eventually caught up and got them to pull over. He radioed it in, then he got out of the truck and walked over to the car.