Walk Through the Fire

by Calle J. Brookes

  She dropped her phone, her hands going toward the wound.

  “No. Don’t call.”

  Blood welled beneath her fingers. Annie pressed tighter. “We need to get you to the ER. I’ll call Jake on the way. We have to call the police.”

  “We can’t. With what happened to…Daniel’s sister, I’m dealing only with Elliot or Daniel.”

  She looked up at him. “You were shot. You’re bleeding. That’s not something we can hide.”

  “And it’ll have to be reported.” He shook his head, a stubborn look in his blue eyes. One she had no difficulty interpreting. He wasn’t going to budge. This was a side of him she hadn’t seen before. “I think it’s just a graze.”

  “You need to go to the hospital. I can’t fix this.” She could stop the bleeding, but suturing was beyond her skills. And if she missed something—she could do more harm than good. He needed Allen or Lacy or Nikkie Jean. But he was going to be just as stubborn as one of her sons. Annie just knew it. Well, she could just out-stubborn him then. “We have to get this fixed. Somehow. You need medical attention. There are arteries in your arm. You could have serious damage that I can’t fix.” If he’d been hit in the brachial, he would have already shown signs of it, Annie thought.

  He stood, shooting the field around them an angry look. Annie’s gaze followed his. No one was around. They were completely alone. Before she’d been charmed by the peace of the place, now…she shivered.

  “Come on. You can drive.”

  She was already digging in his pocket for his keys, damn the awkwardness of the movement. “To the ER?”

  He was already shaking his head. “No. Not yet. I have people I need to talk to first. Al owes me a favor. He can fix this.”

  “Then come on. We’ll swing by Jacobson’s. Get him to slap on a Band-Aid. Then I’ll take you to dinner. Just the two of us, in the private dining room at the Barratt. Unless Houghton has it reserved again. He does that a lot whenever he’s trying to suck up to Mel.” He shot her what he no doubt thought was a charming grin and used a wheedling tone. Nope. Not going to happen.

  She was the mother of three boys—wheedling was a part of her daily routine. Turner wasn’t going to get through her that way.

  She slipped her thin shell off her arms and tied one sleeve around his arm as tightly as she could. She’d be a little chilled in the rain, but it was all she had to stop the bleeding. “You’ll need to help me pull this tight.”

  “This needs to be reported.”

  “I will report it. As soon as I can. I don’t want it going over the radios. I need to talk to Elliot directly.” His hand covered hers. “I’ll be ok, honey. I promise.”

  “You’re going to need a shot of antibiotics and possibly tetanus. Those aren’t things Allen will have just lying around.”

  “Then he’ll get it. Al’s resourceful.”

  Just like that. Just say it, and it happened? It didn’t work that way in her world. Not like it apparently did in his. How could he sit there so casually? Someone could have killed them. Him. It was him they were trying to kill. Just like they’d almost killed Delancey McKellen. “It must be nice.”

  “What?”

  “To just speak it and have everything you want just given to you.”

  It explained why he was so sure, so confident all the time. He’d never been in a position to truly doubt himself. Or his place in the world.

  She was going to see that her boys were raised just like that, too.

  It struck her then—it wouldn’t bother her one bit if her children grew up to be just like the man in front of her. Strong, sure, confident, charismatic, able to lead when needed. Able to love when needed.

  He could have been killed tonight, right in front of her.

  Annie forced the panic back. He needed medical attention, and the TSP needed to catch the persons responsible for this. Then she could fall apart and think about just what exactly he meant to her now.

  “It’s convenient—that’s for sure.” He stood, not even wobbling once. The man had just been shot, for heaven’s sake.

  He should have at least wobbled a little. Instead, he was as strong and confident as ever. Of course, he was; he was Turner Barratt, hero of Finley Creek. “I don’t even know where Allen Jacobson lives.”

  “On Seventeenth and Ohio. There’s a condo complex there. Nice place. I considered investing in it a few years ago. I think Powell owns a portion of it.”

  No doubt one month’s rent was more than her entire electric bill for a year.

  It was definitely a different world Turner inhabited. What that meant for her, Annie was going to have to figure out.

  94

  Allen Jacobson was just popping leftover pizza in the microwave for dinner when someone buzzed the intercom.

  “Let me in, Al. I need a favor. It’s Turner.”

  Allen unlocked the door, then met the man he’d known for years at the door. Turner looked like hell, pale as a ghost and worry in his eyes. Allen tensed.

  “Barratt? What have you gotten into now?”

  The mayor shifted to the side. That’s when Allen got his first good look at the woman who’d followed him. For a minute he didn’t recognize her. She wasn’t in scrubs. Just jeans and a thin T-shirt that clung to her body, wet from the rain. “Annie, what’s wrong?”

  There was blood. On both of them. It was a miracle they’d made it up his walkway without someone seeing them. “What’s happened?”

  “I have a small problem.” Turner motioned to his left arm.

  “He’s been shot,” Annie said, tightly. Allen wanted to take the time to study her expression, but he easily saw what she meant. He grabbed the roll of paper towels off the counter. He didn’t want the man bleeding all over his new carpet.

  “Then why aren’t you at the ER?” he asked the question of the man, watching Turner’s face for his reaction. There it was.

  Turner was up to his eyeballs in something. Something he didn’t want people at the hospital to know about.

  Hell.

  And he’d just dragged sweet little Annie right into the middle of it. Allen bit back the urge to rip the man over the coals. He bit it back—but he wasn’t forgetting it.

  He wasn’t about to sit back and watch Annie get hurt. Far too many women he cared about were getting hurt lately.

  Allen was tired of feeling so damned powerless.

  “Good question. I asked him the same thing myself,” Annie said, tightly. Allen checked her face quickly. There was a storm brewing in her light blue eyes.

  “He needs to call Elliot Marshall and report it. After he gets his arm taken care of. There is an exit wound, as well.”

  “I don’t have everything we need here. And, hell, Turner, you know I have to report this.”

  “I know. Just...can you hold off for a few hours. I need to talk to Elliot. We don’t need this getting out right now. It can jeopardize our entire plan.”

  Allen swore. He looked at Annie. “I have a few things on hand. But I’ll need antibiotics, at the very minimum.”

  “I told him to go to the ER.”

  Allen looked at Turner in time to see him staring at Annie with a look Allen understood.

  Turner Barratt had it bad. Hell, the man was in love with her.

  He never would have imagined the two of them together. But apparently they were. “Who’s on the ER schedule tonight?”

  “Izzie should be getting off work soon.”

  That gave Allen pause.

  “What? I didn’t realize she’d returned from medical leave.” The damned woman had taken a bullet to the liver and another to the lung. She should be off another two weeks minimum. Hell, if he’d had his way, she would have still been in the hospital. Not working in it.

  “She said she’s ready.” Annie shot him a frank look. “And she has tuition due. Izzie can’t afford not to work any longer.”

  Allen tried not to wince. He’d been fortunate. He’d not had to work his way through school,
thanks to scholarships, trust funds, and a college fund provided by his parents. “What time does her shift end?”

  “In about ten minutes.”

  “Call her. Get her here. This is what we’ll need.”

  95

  Izzie showed up fifteen minutes after Annie called her and relayed the message about what Allen wanted. Her friend didn’t ask questions; she just showed up with what Annie asked.

  She could always count on Izzie when needed.

  Annie was fighting irritation. She’d seen foolish reckless decisions regarding patients’ health before. But that it was Turner infuriated her.

  He could have been killed tonight. They both could have.

  Izzie handled giving him the injections, making quips about charging extra for house calls. Izzie and Allen continued to avoid looking at each other. But at least they were not arguing.

  Annie shot Izzie a look, just checking for herself. It had been Izzie’s first full shift back on the clock. And it had been far too soon. There were large circles beneath the dark eyes, and Izzie’s skin was a few shades paler than normal. She just looked so fragile. The scrubs she wore were now a size too big. Maybe more. She’d lost at least twenty-five pounds. Weight Izzie hadn’t had to lose.

  “Annie, where are the boys?” Izzie asked.

  “Nikkie Jean has them. She was looking forward to her first slumber party. I need to get over there, though. She may have bitten off more than she can handle, adding the boys to the mix. She has Ari’s two, as well.”

  “I say leave them with Nikkie Jean. She has Caine, and his uncle. You need to go someplace we can be certain you’re safe,” Allen said bluntly. “You’ve been in the news with him. People can put it together easily enough.”

  “I…I don’t know.” She spun back to the man who had caused her no small amount of grief since the moment she had laid eyes on him that night in his office. “What’s going on? Am I safe? My children?”

  “No. They’ll be safe. I promise you that.” Turner stood and came to her.

  She didn’t want his hands on her. Not right now. If he touched her, she’d lose all the control she’d managed to pull around herself in the last ten minutes.

  Someone could have killed him tonight. Or her. Both of them. And she didn’t fully understand why.

  Annie took the wipe Izzie held out to her without thinking—they’d worked together thousands of hours before—and went to work on the drying blood covering his skin.

  She looked up at him, really looking at him. Trying to figure out what was going on in that head of his. A few inches to one side, and he’d be dead.

  Dead.

  It was hard to forget that. “Turner, why is someone trying to kill you?”

  The room stilled at her question.

  96

  He felt like the lowest asshole to have ever walked the planet, and that feeling just compounded when Annie turned those big, blue eyes on him.

  “I’ll keep you safe.” He’d call Houghton, borrow a few of his cousin’s trained security staff. Surround Annie and the boys to the absolute best of his ability and funds. Even if he had to spend every penny he had. This woman would be safe. “I…I’ll take you to the Barratt Ranch. Houghton’s doubled the security there.”

  “For how long? I have a life, Turner. And so do my children. They have preschool and tiny-tots soccer and—”

  “Until I stop the assholes trying to screw with me. Elliot’s making progress. I swear. It’ll be over soon.” He raised his uninjured arm and cupped her cheek lightly. Brushed her lips with his finger. “Trust me. I’m never going to let anything happen to you or the boys. No matter what I have to do.”

  Someone knocked sharply on the door. Allen answered quickly.

  Turner swore when he saw a dark-haired man standing next to the chief of the Finley Creek post. Jake MacNamara had already made it clear he didn’t want Annie anywhere near Turner right now.

  Jake stepped fully into Allen’s apartment. “What the hell is going on here, mayor? Girls?”

  The man turned toward Annie. “Annie, honey, what happened to you?”

  “I’m fine, Jake. It’s not my blood.” She pulled in a deep breath and looked at Allen. “Do you have a shirt I can borrow? I…can’t wear this one home.”

  Jake wrapped his hand around his niece’s elbow. “Iz, care to explain?”

  “I’m just the delivery girl, Uncle Jake.” Turner saw Allen’s attention sharpen. He hadn’t met Jake, then. “I swear. You need to talk to the mayor if you want all the answers. Apparently, he has a secret he hasn’t shared with Annie.”

  “What happened?” Elliot asked, quietly.

  “I took Annie to the river tonight to show her some property; someone shot me while we were there. And, no, I didn’t go to the ER. I don’t want the information getting out. Not if I can help it. I figured Allen would help me out.”

  “No. That’s definitely not what we need right now,” Jake said. “Did you get a good look at the shooter?”

  “No. Dark SUV, window rolled down. Barely had time to get us out of the way.”

  “Who knew you were going to be there?” Jake asked.

  “No one. I didn’t tell a damned soul in my office. I’ve been deliberately keeping my plans to myself, like we agreed on.”

  “Someone’s followed you, then,” Elliot said. “I really think we need to set the trap like we’ve discussed before.”

  “Need to find the place first,” Jake added. The look he shot at Turner told him one thing. He was royally pissed. Turner felt the same, and probably for the same reason. He slipped his good arm around her waist as she kept fussing over the wound in his arm. “We can get started on that tonight. I have my people ready to roll. But one thing—Annie needs to be as far away from this as possible.”

  On that, Turner fully agreed. “So how are we going to make this happen?”

  “We can start the first stage tonight,” Elliot said. “Catch them off guard.”

  “Wait a minute…” Izzie said, from where she was using Allen’s paper towels to help Annie get the blood off her hands and forearms. “You three stooges are up to something. And have been for a while, haven’t you?”

  “Yes,” Turner said.

  “But it’s none of your business, nosy-butt,” Jake said. “You just go home, feed the cat, and keep your mouth shut.”

  “So how does this involve Annie?” Izzie asked, glaring at her uncle. “And what’s the plan to keep her safe while you three play cowboys? Or have you thought that far ahead?”

  “Cops and robbers are more accurate,” Jake shot back. “Now, sit down and be quiet. We have some thinking to do.”

  Allen snorted, drawing his attention his way. He held up a hand. “First, I doubt she’s ever obeyed anyone. And I’m just the poor fool who opened the door to them tonight. Don’t mind me here.”

  Jake looked at his niece. “Not a word leaves this room.”

  Izzie saluted. “Yes, sir.”

  “Keep it up and you’re doing the laundry for the next year.”

  “I always do the laundry. You’re freaked out by my bras and undies, remember?”

  “I should have grounded you more often when you were a teenager.”

  She shot him a snotty look. Turner bit back a laugh. Thank God Izzie was still around to be snotty.

  “I’d just sneak out again. Like I did every time you ever tried.”

  Jake looked at Annie. “This true? Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

  “Who do you think provided the rope?” Izzie asked. “Annie’s not as innocent as everyone thinks.”

  “Can we stay on task here? Who’s trying to kill Turner, Jake? And why?” Annie asked, finally.

  Turner wrapped his uninjured arm around Annie and pulled her closer. He whispered near her ear. “It’ll be ok. I promise.”

  Annie shocked the hell out of him when she rested her head against his shoulder and just let him hold her for the longest time. No one said a word.

&
nbsp; 97

  Carl disconnected the phone and looked at the woman snuggled in his bed. “I—”

  “What’s happened?” Jenny asked. She pulled the sheet up to her chin. She never had liked for him to see her naked. Jenny was nothing if not modest. “Is everyone ok?”

  “They will be. That was Turner. He’s had a round of trouble tonight.” Carl pushed the worry aside. Worry at this point didn’t do anyone any good. “I need to go check on Jason.”

  It was only ten or so. He’d have time to make it to the hospital and tuck him in before working for a few hours. He’d only come home to grab clean clothes and Jason’s tablet. And take a minute or two for himself.

  Jenny had met him in his driveway. Like she had been waiting for him. His grandson had outgrown that ritual about the time he was eight, but since the storm, Jason had seemed to need the extra attention. Carl was more than willing to give it.

  “How is he doing?”

  Carl appreciated her asking. She always did. And she’d offered to take some of his load from the council, to give him more time with Jason. “He’s doing better. Jimmy woke. The fever is going down. Jason should be released in the next day or two. The surgery went well. He’s bored and cranky now. But they have moved him in with Jimmy.”

  At Carl’s insistence. The other boy had been in a room with two beds; Jason had had a private one. But Jason’s bills were being paid out of Carl’s pocket, unlike Jimmy’s. Insurance and victim relief funds were helping him.

  Carl had seen that was upgraded. He wanted Jimmy and Jason in the room together. The boys needed each other. Friends needed each other.

  Someone could have killed a young man Carl considered a good friend. He wasn’t taking that lightly. Turner and Jenny were the closest people in his life now. “Do you know how much I appreciate you, Jennifer Sue Raymond?”

  He would never call her Henedy again. That fool had lost her.

  Carl’s gain, though. Carl’s gain.

  Her bottom lip trembled. “Sometimes I don’t think I deserve you, Carl. I think you may be too good for me completely.”