Hiss and Make Up

by Leigh Landry

  Marc pressed himself against her, pinning her between him and the rolling cart pressing into her backside. When she winced, he eased back, allowing her to shift into a more comfortable position. The warmth of his kiss sent electricity surging through her mouth then further down in places that had been missing a jolt like that for far too long.

  A soft moan escaped her lips as he kissed along the side of her neck. Sierra released her grip on the front of his shirt to lift it up and over his head. Then she ran her hands up his smooth, bare back and pulled him close again.

  A dog barked in the distance. The dog. Her dog now, she guessed. It was a yappy sort of bark, with an edge of insistence.

  “We’re gonna have a talk about that animal later,” Marc said through heavy breaths.

  He lifted her off the ground and she wrapped her legs around him. Their bodies moved in perfect harmony even with the rush of attraction overtaking them both. He carried her to a stainless steel work table on the other side of the shop and sat her on top of it.

  Off went her shirt.

  Kissing his way from her belly to her mouth, he lingered in spots that shot bolts of electricity through her body until she was panting. He eased her down onto the table, and the cold, metal surface against her back made her clench upward until she adjusted to the sensation. Marc waited for her to relax before climbing on top of her. She turned her head toward the open doorway, as if to suck in fresh air for the rest of this ride.

  But something else took her breath away.

  She pointed out at the open door, past the chain-link fence and open field, where Denise's house sat beneath a thick, dark trail of smoke. Flames licked at the sky from several windows. "Fire!"

  Marc followed her line of sight and his whole body tensed above her. They both stared out the opening, frozen at the sight, neither able to move to action.

  "Denise and the kids aren't there, right? They didn't come back, right?" She was afraid of his answer but too afraid not to ask.

  Marc eased off of her and offered a hand to help her up. Then he grabbed his shirt and ran for the exit.

  "Call 911.” He stopped for only a second to point at her and order, "Stay here," before sprinting toward the blaze.

  11

  By the time Sierra called for help, calmed the dog, and ran to Denise’s property, Marc was nowhere in sight. Her heart beat fiercely against her chest. Denise’s van wasn’t in the driveway, so they were still at ArtWalk. But Marc wouldn’t hang back and take that chance.

  She paced until she heard sirens, then met the fire truck as it parked along the street. She told the first guy whose boots hit the ground that Marc was inside the house.

  Sierra chewed her fingernails and the skin around them, pacing and cutting ruts in the yard. Her eyes remained glued to the house while the firemen ran inside and dragged a hose across the property. She’d never felt so useless in her life.

  She shouldn’t have let Marc go to the house. She should have made him wait with her. But there'd been no way to stop him from searching that house.

  After what felt like hours, two firemen emerged from the front door, dragging Marc and refusing to let him back in the building. He was explaining that he made it through most of the house but couldn’t see through the smoke in two of the kids’ rooms. While he pleaded his case, they assured him they would search every corner twice, if he would stay outside and let them do their jobs.

  When he turned, soot smudged across his cheek, Sierra felt herself tremble as a sob caught in her throat. Marc wrapped both arms around her, while she buried her face against his shoulder and released the tears she’d been holding back.

  “I thought I told you to stay put.” He brushed her hair aside and kissed her temple. Then he held her face in his hands and wiped her tears away with his thumbs.

  “I’m not good at following orders, in case you haven’t noticed.”

  He smiled and coughed.

  “You okay?” She looked him over for any injuries. Ash and soot covered him, turning his dark hair a dull gray.

  He finished coughing. “Yeah. Just smoke.”

  Sierra couldn’t shake the idea that pieces of Denise’s house were in his hair. She ran her fingers through it and shook the dust out. He leaned over and tossed his head around, releasing a cloud of ash.

  One of the firemen approached and told Marc that they cleared every room. No one was inside. Then he rejoined the others to continue fighting the blaze that had now taken over the back half of the house.

  “At least they weren’t home.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say, and saying nothing felt impossible.

  “I have to call her. They’ll be on their way back soon.” He looked at the house, then back at Sierra. “Can you stay right here? Please?”

  She squeezed his arm. “I promise.”

  He walked a few feet away to make the call, leaving Sierra to watch the firemen fight a losing battle, flames now appearing from the roof.

  In the road behind the fire truck, a handful of neighbors gathered to point and hold their hands over their mouths in shock. One of them spotted Sierra and Marc and rushed through the yard. Sierra didn’t recognize her as anyone who’d lived in the neighborhood when she had. Marc was still on the phone giving Denise the horrible news, and the wide-open acreage didn’t give her a place to hide.

  “Denise!” the middle-aged woman shouted, her short, bottle-blonde hair spiked at attention. She rushed toward Sierra, her pink flannel teacup robe sailing behind her. “Where are Denise and the kids?”

  “They’re not here,” Sierra stammered, taking a step back as the woman grabbed both of her shoulders. “They’re safe.”

  Sierra bit the inside of her mouth to keep from flaming on the woman. She didn’t know who this woman was, but fire or not, Sierra didn’t know how long she could be the calm one in this situation.

  “Mrs. Guidry, the kids and Denise are fine.” Marc put a hand on his hysterical neighbor’s shoulder. “They were downtown, and I just spoke to her. Everyone is okay.”

  Mrs. Guidry. She’d recognized that perky little nose and pouty mouth, although a couple extra decades had masked the connection.

  Marc took the woman’s hands from Sierra’s arms and held her attention with his own calming gaze. She relaxed a little and exhaled, mumbling, “Thank you, Jesus.”

  “The firefighters are doing all they can, and everyone is safe. I need you and everyone else to go home so we can focus on Denise’s house without having to keep track of all of you, worrying if you’re in danger. Can you do that for me?” Marc’s voice was calm and steady. “I could really use your help. Can you gather everyone and send them all home?”

  The woman straightened her back and tightened her robe belt. She looked around the yard and leaned to glance behind the house. Did she think they were lying to her? Did she think they were hiding the kids in the shed while a fire raged a few yards away? The woman frowned when she noticed Sierra watching her. Then, she flashed a familiar smile at Marc.

  “Don’t you worry about a thing.”

  Accepting the challenge, the woman marched back to the road and waved her arms at the small group of people gathered there. Then she herded them down the street like a flock of wild turkeys.

  “Chloe’s mom,” Marc said. “Apparently, we needed a little excitement around here.”

  “Because this day was pretty dull before she came along. What is with that woman?”

  “She’s a trip, but harmless.”

  Sierra rubbed her sore shoulders. “How’s Denise?”

  “As expected. Shaken, but I convinced her to stay away and go to a friend’s house for the night.”

  “Good. She can assess the damage in the morning. No sense watching her house burn all night.”

  Marc turned to the flames, and Sierra realized that was exactly what he’d be doing. The firefighters were finally getting a handle on the blaze, at least preventing it from spreading further through the house. Still, it was his sister
’s house. The house she and her husband had built. The house where they were raising their children. The house where Marc had spent lots of time over the last few years.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  He raised a hand to stop her from apologizing. “You should go.”

  “I promise, I won’t get in the way.” She had no intention of interfering, but the last thing she wanted to do was leave him alone.

  He shook his head. “I know you wouldn’t, but there’s nothing you can do here either. You need to go home and get some sleep.”

  “I don’t have to work tomorrow. I’m fine.”

  He stared at the flames. “It doesn’t matter. I need you to go.”

  Her stomach dropped as the words hit her.

  There it was. She’d expected this.

  The kiss. The shop. The whole day. It had been a mistake. It just took a fire for him to realize it.

  When she didn’t answer, he turned to her and his expression softened. He took her hand and squeezed it. “No, not like that. I need to know that you’re safe.” He pointed at the house with his other hand. “Right now it looks like the safest place is away from here. Away from me.”

  A few minutes earlier, when she’d had nothing to do but pace on the lawn and wait for Marc in that burning building, she'd come to the same conclusion. Not about her safety, but that the fire couldn’t be an accident. There were too many outrageous coincidences over the past two days. She wouldn't mutter the word “arson” while his sister’s house melted in front of him, but he seemed to have the same suspicion.

  “And who’s going to keep you safe?” She slipped a hand around his arm and pressed close to him. “I swear, you won’t have to worry about me. I can take care of myself.” She squeezed his arm. “And I can help you. Even if that means standing here with you all night and doing nothing else.”

  He brushed her hair from her face again and tucked it behind one ear. “I know. And I appreciate that you would do that.” He kissed her forehead. Then, he looked her in the eyes and said, “Go home. Please?”

  Sierra nodded. She didn’t want to argue with him. That wouldn’t help. And from the look in his eyes, she didn’t think she could change his mind on this one.

  “Text me when you lock yourself inside,” he said. “I’ll check in with you tomorrow.”

  She slid her palm down his arm and squeezed his hand before walking away. It was strangely intimate, given the position they’d been in an hour ago. She wanted to kiss him before leaving, but that didn’t feel right either.

  After one last look at the fire and what remained of Denise’s house, Sierra walked back toward Marc’s house and her car.

  A yappy bark in the distance reminded her that she would have to figure out what to do with that dog. She couldn’t keep it at their house with no fence and a bunch of cats inside, but she didn’t have time to butter up Marc into keeping him for a few days while she searched for a rescue group. She was pretty certain Marc wouldn’t be very pleased to find out she’d left the dog behind.

  Although, maybe the little guy could be her eyes and ears. If she couldn’t keep an eye out for Marc tonight, at least the dog could.

  “Oh, and Sierra,” Marc called out.

  “Yeah?” she shouted back, bracing herself for him to tell her to take the dog with her. That would put her in a tough spot. She would have to choose between arguing with him and outright defying him. Again.

  “Don’t look into this anymore. Please.”

  She gave a wave over her shoulder as Denise parked a large van along the side of the road.

  Sierra walked to her car comforted by the fact that Marc was used to the women in his life not following his orders.

  12

  Marc waited in the yard, his sneakers absorbing the morning dew, while Denise spoke to the insurance adjuster. Ever since the firemen dragged him out of the house, he’d had nothing to do but stand around with his hands in his pockets and hug Denise. When she’d let him. The only difference now was instead of watching firemen, he was watching Denise make a claim.

  Denise wore the same clothes she’d worn to Art Walk the night before—linen pants and a loose, wide-necked striped shirt. Her hair was pulled back in a smooth ponytail, and her expression was stoic. This was how Denise faced every obstacle: head-on with efficiency.

  Only this wasn’t a normal obstacle. It wasn’t like one of the kids had dropped the toothpaste tube down the toilet or her husband had called to say he’d be gone for six weeks instead of four. This was a huge, devastating, life-altering obstacle. Yet there she was, pulled-together in action-mode.

  She was handling it a hell of a lot better than Marc had been handling it. After he sent Sierra home and the firemen declared it safe to enter, Marc sat on the floor of the living room and stared down the hall through sunrise.

  Denise had wandered through the wreckage until Marc had finally convinced her to rest at his house. Or cry. Or to be alone. Whatever she needed.

  “I just can’t believe it.” Denise met Marc in the grass and shook her head while the insurance guy went to his truck to run numbers and file his report.

  “I know.”

  “How could this happen?”

  Marc wasn’t ready to share his suspicions with her. Not yet. And he sure as hell wasn’t ready to share the conversation he’d had with the fire chief.

  The chief would be calling in an investigator to determine the materials used to start the fire. It had ignited in the playroom, right beneath a smoke detector. There was no reason for anything to spontaneously catch on fire in that spot.

  “What am I going to tell the kids? Oh my God. I haven’t even called Josh yet. What am I going to do?”

  And that was it. As the insurance adjuster drove off down the long, gravel driveway, Denise was free to crumble in her front yard.

  Marc held her while she cried. He swore to himself he would find the person responsible for this. For all of it. And he’d make them pay.

  “Do you want me to come with you when you tell the kids?”

  She wiped at her face, and he wished he had more to offer her than his soot-covered shirt.

  “I’m going to wait. We’ll go somewhere. I’ll tell them we’re taking a surprise vacation. When Josh gets back, we can tell them together. Maybe by then, we’ll have some answers. We can figure out a plan before we tell them. I need to at least tell them where we’ll live while we repair the house.”

  “You know exactly where you’ll stay.”

  “Thanks, but it’s your—”

  “No, it’s your house as much as mine. And you need it. Those kids need it. It’s right next to your property, so you’ll be able to oversee all of the construction.”

  Denise smiled. “Thanks. We’ll talk about it later, okay? When I get back.”

  That was as much of a commitment as he could expect from her at the moment, but he knew he was right about this. She needed to be in that house. He could rent an apartment for a while. That house had always been too big for him to live in all by himself.

  “Deal,” he said. “For now.”

  “Thanks.” She tousled his hair and wiped a smudge from his cheek.

  “Call me when you and the kids get settled. I want to know where you are.”

  “Promise, buddy. You’ll be my first call.”

  “After Josh?”

  Denise shrugged and looked around the neighborhood, turning her back on the house. When she looked across the field, she tilted her head in confusion. “Where’s your car?”

  Oh, yeah. That.

  “Long story. Not important right now.”

  Given what had happened in the last twenty-four hours, he began to wonder if what happened to his car wasn’t some unlucky coincidence. It seemed highly relevant that he got stranded at the football game right before someone set his sister’s house on fire.

  Then again, he'd also thought it was a good idea to jump Sierra in his dad’s workshop.

  “Please, please, please tel
l me you didn’t loan Sierra your car. God knows what shape you’ll get it back in. That is if you get it back at all.”

  “Probably not the best time for this conversation, but no, I didn’t loan my car to her. It’s in the shop.” At least that wasn’t a lie. The tow truck should have picked it up and brought it to the repair shop by now. “And lay off Sierra. Please. I’m cutting you some slack right now because of the fire, but you’re gonna have to back off on that.”

  She frowned, then looked back at his house and squinted. “Wait, is that a dog? Did you get a dog?”

  He looked where Denise pointed and shielded his eyes from the bright morning sun. Dang. He’d forgotten all about that thing.

  “There’s a dog back there.”

  “Yeah, there is.” The question was why Sierra hadn’t taken it with her when she left. She must have been shaken up by the fire and forgotten it was back there. She wouldn’t have left it on purpose. Would she?

  “Be careful. That thing might have rabies or who knows what other diseases.” Denise climbed into her van. From the open window, she said, “Thanks for being here.”

  “No problem. You be careful too. Check in with me every day.”

  She saluted. “Sure thing, captain. I’ll let you know where we land for the week.”

  He waved goodbye as her van slowly crunched across the limestone gravel. With one more glance at the burned-up shell of a house, Marc turned to cross the field. A wagging tongue greeted him at the fence a few moments later.

  Great. Just what he needed. Something else to take care of.

  “Sorry. I don’t have anything for you, dog.”

  He really didn’t have any food for it. A bowl of water sat next to the house, so at least Sierra had taken care of that. He tried not to wonder whether she did that while she was waiting for the firemen or before she left later that night. The latter would mean she remembered the dog and left him on purpose. He did not have the energy to be pissed at her this morning.