Flashback

by Jill Shalvis

  “What kind of clues?”

  “I don’t know, that the key is in the demos, which I don’t get. And that blood is thicker than water. I don’t get that either, honestly.”

  Tommy went pale. He came to her, taking her arm and leading her to the door. “I need you to listen to me, okay? Listen very carefully. Go back to Los Angeles. I’ll call you—”

  “No.” She pulled free. “I’m not leaving.”

  “Yes, you are. If I have to have you arrested again—”

  “On what charges?”

  “I’ll find something.”

  She looked into his face, where his emotions were clear. “Okay, you’re scared for me. I get that. I’ll stay back, I’ll stay clear.”

  “Promise me.”

  She took a long look at him. “What did I say? Was it the blood is thicker than water thing?”

  “Promise me.”

  “I promise,” she said very quietly. “Now you promise me this. You’ll come to me as soon as you can with answers.”

  “Deal.”

  DURING THE SUMMER MONTHS, Santa Rey swelled to upwards of three times its normal population, which was reflected in the increased volume of calls the fire station received. In the past twenty-four hours alone, Aidan had fought a restaurant fire, a storefront fire, a car fire and two house fires, each caused by human stupidity. Then, it happened.

  Another explosion.

  It thankfully occurred in an empty warehouse this time. No one was injured, except Cristina, who fell off a ladder and hurt her ankle.

  Dustin wanted to take her to the E.R. for an X-ray, but in typical Cristina fashion, she wanted to tough it out.

  Aidan left them alone to their silent battle of wills, and let himself inside the burned shell of a warehouse.

  Tommy was there, with his bag of equipment, his camera out. When he saw Aidan, he jaw ticked. “I’ve got it from here.”

  Aidan’s eyes went to the wall in front of Tommy, where the burn marks on the wall indicated a hot flash, and most likely, the point of origin. “I never did get onto Blake’s Girl after the explosion. But I’m going to take a wild guess that you found something like this there, and also at the hardware explosion that killed Tracy.”

  Tommy clearly fought with himself, and then finally sighed. “Look, I’m not going to insult your intelligence the way I insulted Zach’s, okay? That was a mistake, shutting him out, because it only made him all the more determined to prove he was right—”

  “He was right—”

  “Yeah, but I was on it. I told him that, but he didn’t listen, and then he dug harder and got himself targeted by the arsonist.”

  “The arsonist? I thought you were so sure it was Blake.”

  “I’m not going to insult your intelligence,” he repeated tightly, “by letting you think what we want the general public to think. So know this. I’m going to nail this guy. So when I say back off, do it. Don’t pull a Zach and get yourself hurt.”

  Aidan stared at him. “You know there’s someone else.”

  “I’m close.”

  “You’ve always known.”

  Tommy acknowledged this with a slight nod. “So now all you have to do is stay out of my way. And keep Kenzie out of the way as well. No one else dies.”

  “Blake’s innocent.”

  “That’s one theory.”

  “Is it the right theory?”

  “Jesus, Aidan.” Tommy scrubbed a hand over his face. “Are you just playing with that girl?”

  “No. And how is this any of your business, anyway? A few days ago you were arresting her.”

  “Just don’t hurt her. You hear me? Don’t even think about it.”

  Aidan let out a low, mirthless laugh. “Trust me, if someone’s getting hurt, it’s going to be me.”

  THE MINUTE AIDAN GOT OFF WORK, he went straight home, hoping Kenzie would be there waiting for him. It was with great relief that he pulled in next to her car. Letting himself in, he called out her name.

  No response. Dropping his keys on the small desk in the living room, he moved through the house and heard the shower running. Things were looking up if he had a naked, wet, hot woman in his shower. And at that realization, all the myriad things he’d wanted to say to her flew out the window, replaced by memories of how she looked standing under a stream of water.

  She hadn’t left…

  Weak with relief, he knocked on the bathroom door. “Kenz?”

  When she still didn’t respond, he cracked open the door and found her sitting in his shower, face to her knees, arms wrapped around herself.

  “Kenzie?”

  “I’m fine.”

  Yeah. She was fine, he was fine, so they could just all be fine together.

  She lifted her head when he opened the shower door but didn’t say a word as he stepped into it with her.

  “You’re dressed,” she finally said, inanely.

  Yeah, which sucked. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “You’re not going to like it.”

  He already didn’t like it, or the clothes now sticking to him like a second skin. “Try me.”

  “I saw Blake.”

  He blinked away the water in his eyes. “You…saw Blake.” He crouched before her. “In a dream?”

  “No.”

  “You saw Blake,” he repeated, trying to understand, and failing. “Not in a dream. What does that mean?”

  “It means he’s alive.”

  16

  KENZIE WATCHED AIDAN try to absorb her news while the shower rained down over top of him, soaking into his hair, his clothes. “I know, it’s a shock,” she said.

  The water ran in rivulets down his face. His shirt was plastered to his broad shoulders and arms, his pants suctioned to his legs. There was something about the way he’d rushed in there to save her from her own demons that got to her. More than got to her. He devastated her.

  She wasn’t sure how it’d happened, especially when she’d set out to keep her heart safe, but she’d fallen for him all over again.

  “You saw Blake,” he repeated.

  “He’s alive. He’s the one who’s been calling me.” She stood up. “He’s been alive and didn’t tell me. The men I love suck.”

  Aidan hissed out a breath and straightened to his feet as well, towering over her, his broad shoulders taking the beating of the water. “The men you love?”

  “Go away.”

  “The men you love?” he asked, staring down at her. “Kenz—”

  “No.” She shook her head. “Not doing this.” She put her hands on his chest to shove him away but somehow ended up fisting her hands in his drenched shirt and yanking. Surprised, he lost his balance as he came toward her, slapping his hands on the tile on either side of her to hold himself upright. “Kenz—”

  She stopped whatever he might have said with her mouth. It made no sense, none at all, but she wanted to have him, needed to have him, right there, right then, if only for this one last time before all hell broke loose.

  “God,” he managed on a roughly expelled breath as she kissed her way over his jaw while she fumbled with the buttons on his Levi’s.

  His hands left the tile and squeezed her arms. Water was running down his face. “I thought you’d said good-bye to me.”

  She’d tried. After all, she had a life to get back to. Too bad she had no idea what that life would entail—but that was a worry for tomorrow. After she figured out the Blake being alive thing. “So I said good-bye. Now I’m saying hello.” Still squished between the wall and Aidan, she slid her hands up his chest, her fingers entwining in his hair as she arched back, her breasts sliding along the material of his wet shirt.

  Her nipples hardened and she felt the rough grumble of the groan in his chest. Almost as if acting of their own accord, his hands moved down her sides, to her hips, her bottom, which he roughly squeezed while letting out another of those incredibly arousing groans. “Is there another good-bye coming my way after this shower?”


  “Maybe not right after,” she panted because something was happening to her, something that had nothing to do with lust or hormones or getting an orgasm, but far deeper. Far more dangerous. Tightening her fingers in his hair, she lifted his head from her breast and stared into his eyes. There, she could see the reflection of her own. And in that reflection was her heart and soul, her very life.

  She loved him. And if they did this, if she let him inside her body again, she’d never recover. She knew it, but like last time, it wasn’t going to stop her. Small wonder when he was against her like a second skin, holding her to the wall. Closing her eyes, she hugged him close, pressing her face to his throat.

  Her name tumbled from his lips in a harsh whisper, and then their hands were fighting to get his clothes off, pushing off his shirt, shoving down his jeans. Then he was reaching for those jeans, and the condom in his pocket. He pressed her back against the wall, freeing his hands to skim down her bare, trembling thighs, which opened and wrapped around his waist, bringing him flush to her. In one thrust he was deep inside, and she was…lost?

  Not lost.

  No, when she was with him, she was found.

  AIDAN’S HEART was still thundering in his ears in tune to the water pounding his back when Kenzie slid free of him. Drained, he watched her lean past him and turn off the water. She tossed him a towel, grabbed one for herself and left him alone in the bathroom.

  He had no idea what had just happened.

  When he managed to dry himself off and walk out of the bathroom, on legs that still quivered, he found her dressing in his bedroom. “Did you get the license of that truck that just hit me?”

  She didn’t smile. “I really saw him.”

  When he just looked at her, she slipped into her shoes. “And I’m going to go find him.”

  “Kenzie,” he said gently. “Blake is—”

  “Dead. I know. But he’s not.” She left the room.

  With a sigh, he headed to his dresser for clothes. He’d gotten into a dry pair of jeans when he heard her keys jangling. “Kenzie,” he called out. Dammit.

  “Wait.” He grabbed a shirt and headed down the hallway just as she opened the front door. She hesitated when her cell phone beeped an incoming text message.

  “Is it…him?” he asked.

  “Yes, it’s him. Texting me from the dead.” She opened her phone and let him read over her shoulder.

  Go home. I’ll find you there when this is over, when you’re safe.

  As they stood there in his open doorway looking down at the screen, a huge trash truck lumbered down the street, making the earth shudder as it went past—

  Boom.

  Kenzie’s bright red sports car vanished in a cloud of smoke and flames and flying metal as it exploded.

  KENZIE SAT ON AIDAN’S CURB looking out at the street, which was littered with cops and various other official personnel, including Tommy and the chief. And lots of red car parts.

  Everyone was trying to figure out what the hell had happened.

  Her car had gone boom, just like Blake’s Girl, that was what had happened.

  “Kenzie.” Aidan’s athletic shoes appeared in her peripheral vision, and then the rest of him as he sat at her side.

  “My insurance company isn’t going to be happy,” she said. “I blame the trash truck.”

  “The trash truck saved your life. You car had been rigged to blow when you got into it, but the truck vibrated the street so much it went up early.”

  “Oh.” She winced. “I wish I didn’t know that.”

  “Give me your cell phone.”

  “Why?”

  “So I can call whoever’s been calling you.”

  “Blake. Blake’s been calling me.”

  “Whoever it is.” His mouth was grim as some of his clear frustration and fear for her filtered into his words. “I just want him to stay the hell away from you.”

  “This wasn’t him.”

  “Then who?”

  “I’m working on that.”

  He looked down at her. “By yourself.”

  “It’s how I work best, apparently.” She stood up. During the time she’d been gone from Santa Rey, she’d closed herself off, both her heart and soul. It was a hell of a time to realize that. But no matter what happened here—whether she left and went back to Los Angeles, or whether she stayed—whatever she settled on for herself, she couldn’t go back to closing herself off.

  “Kenzie.”

  “I didn’t mean to get so good at being alone. I didn’t realize, living in L.A., the land of pretend, that I’d never built myself any real relationships.” She let out a long breath and met his gaze. “But that changed when I got here. When I was with you. I love you, Aidan. Again. Still. I love you.”

  And while that shocking statement hung in the air, someone called for Aidan. But he just stared at Kenzie. “You—”

  “Aidan!”

  With a grimace, he looked over his shoulder. “Shit, it’s the chief.”

  “Go.”

  “Kenzie—”

  “Go.”

  A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Don’t move, I’ll be right back.”

  Nodding, she watched him walk toward a tall man whose back was to her, stretching out a dark blue shirt that said Chief across the shoulders.

  Then she walked away. She didn’t have a car, so she had no idea where she thought she was going, but she had to leave.

  In her pocket, her cell phone buzzed with an incoming text.

  Another half block. Gray car.

  I LOVE YOU. Aidan muttered the three little words that Kenzie had said to him. She’d said them, and then she’d vanished, and he had no idea where she’d gone. One moment he’d been talking to the chief, and the next…She’d been gone. It’d been hours, and not a word.

  He was at the station now, and she still hadn’t answered her damn cell phone, and he was starting to lose it. He shouldn’t have walked away to talk to the chief, he should have dragged her with him.

  “Hey, Mr. 2008.” Cristina came into the station kitchen and went straight for the refrigerator. “What are you pouting about?” She helped herself to someone else’s lunch.

  “You could bring your own.”

  “I could.” Cristina pulled out a thick turkey sandwich. “But I don’t.”

  “Hey, that’s mine,” Dustin said, joining them from the garage. “What did I tell you about stealing my sandwich?”

  Cristina spoke around a huge mouthful. “If I was still sleeping with you, I’d bet you’d give me your sandwich.”

  Dustin’s eyes darkened. “You slept with me once.”

  “Your point?”

  “My point is that if we were still sleeping together, I’d make you your own damn sandwich.”

  She took another bite, chewing with a moan. “You know, I should give that some thought, because you do make the best sandwiches.”

  Dustin tossed up his hands and walked back out of the room.

  When he was gone, Cristina dropped her tough girl pose, watching him go with a naked look of longing.

  “You could just tell him the truth,” Aidan said.

  “What, that he makes crappy sandwiches?”

  “No, that you’re scared. He’d understand fear.” Hell, he understood it all too well.

  “Are you kidding me? I’m not scared.” Cristina tossed the sandwich back in the fridge. “I’m not scared of anything.” But as she shut the fridge, she pressed her forehead to the door. “Ah, hell. I’m scared. Everything’s messed up. Dustin’s mad at me. Blake’s gone. There’s no good food. Blake’s gone.”

  “You still miss him.”

  “Hell, yeah, I still miss him. He was a great partner. And now even the chief, his own flesh and blood, wants to make him out to be a monster that we know he wasn’t.”

  “Wait.” Aidan grabbed her arm. “What?”

  “He wasn’t a monster.”

  “The flesh and blood part. What did you mean about that?”
r />   Cristina’s lips tightened. “Blake asked me never to tell.”

  “He asked you never to tell what?”

  She sighed. “That the chief’s his uncle. They were estranged, though. Blake’s parents were—”

  “Dead. They died years ago.”

  “Yeah. But his father was the chief’s half brother.”

  Blood is thicker than water…Good God. “If that’s true,” he asked hoarsely, “why did Blake and Kenzie spend their childhood in foster care?”

  “Because the chief didn’t want kids. Or something like that.” She shrugged. “Not sure on the details.”

  Neither was he. Except that somehow…Christ. Somehow the chief—

  His cell phone rang. When he looked down at the screen, his heart skipped a beat. “Thank God,” he said to Kenzie in lieu of a greeting. “Listen to me. I just realized—”

  “Aidan, I need you. I’m sorry, I know I don’t really have the right to say that to you, but I do. Can you come meet me? Now? Please?”

  “Just tell me where.”

  AIDAN BURST INSIDE the Sunrise Café and looked around the tables.

  No Kenzie.

  “She’s on the roof,” Sheila told him, standing behind the bar drying glasses.

  “Thanks.”

  “Something about Tommy being on his way, and having all the answers you need…”

  Aidan had the answers. He just didn’t have the girl, which he intended to rectify. He headed for the stairs as Sheila turned her attention to someone else. “Hey, there, good-looking,” she called out with a smile of greeting. Aidan took the stairs without looking back, coming to a relieved halt on the roof at the sight of Kenzie sitting on the bench.

  “Tommy’s on his way,” she said, standing up. Someone stepped out from the shadows behind her and Aidan’s heart stopped.

  It was Blake, who by all logical accounts should be dead.

  Only there was nothing logical about any of this. Not the arsons, and not the way Aidan knew he loved the woman standing in front of him like he’d never loved anyone before.

  “Listen to him,” Kenzie said quietly. “Listen to your heart.”