Controlled Burn- To Publish

by Lani Lynn Vale

I’d made it to the ER.

  I’d been given fluids, had tests run, and was now listening to the ER doc tell me and Dean that I had a serious infection that would require some antibiotics that would likely make me feel like shit for the next few days.

  “She’ll need to be watched closely, otherwise we’ll need to admit her,” the doctor was explaining, completely ignoring the fact that I’d asked Dean to leave.

  Then again, that might be because Dean knew the damn man.

  Then again, Dean knew nearly everyone in every hospital in the area.

  So it wasn’t a surprise that he’d know my doctor, too. It also came to no surprise to me that he’d stayed, nor that Alexa was my nurse.

  I narrowed my eyes at the woman that was standing in the door, and she narrowed them right back at me.

  I closed my eyes to block out the woman’s snooty face and started the slide into sleep when Dean’s voice broke into my calming thoughts.

  “She’ll come home with me,” Dean began saying to the doctor. “Her brother’s on a case and can’t come, but I’m free. Already asked for time off, too. Done deal.”

  I was shaking my head in the negative, but the doctor was already speaking over my denials.

  “Great,” he called. “Alexa, please get her discharge papers in order. She’ll be going home with PD.”

  I sighed and closed my eyes once again, this time in defeat.

  “Dammit.”

  “What was that?” Dean asked, leaning over me so his ear was close to my mouth.

  “Dammit,” I repeated.

  “Oh,” he snorted. “That’s what I thought you said.”

  Thirty minutes later, Alexa was wheeling me out to the exit with Dean at my side.

  I was wearing a pair of blue hospital scrubs and my tank top, but I was upright and aware of what was going on around me.

  Especially the tenseness of the two at my back.

  “Don’t forget to let me know how your date goes,” Dean ordered as he opened the door to his truck.

  “I won’t,” Alexa promised. “Do you want me to stop by tomorrow night for pizza?”

  “No,” Dean denied. “July and I will be having a night in, but thank you.”

  I wanted to laugh at the look on Alexa’s face that I saw in the reflection of Dean’s shiny red truck, but refrained.

  Barely.

  When he opened the truck door wide and leaned in for me, I put my hands up to stop him.

  “Let me try to stand,” I insisted.

  He ignored me and lifted me like a rag doll, placing me in the front seat and going as far as to strap my belt on as well.

  “Thanks, Daddy,” I muttered darkly.

  Except his eyes flared in delight.

  “We never played that game,” he teased softly, his eyes close to mine. “But we can once you’re back in fighting shape.”

  I was shaking my head in denial before he’d even finished.

  “Negative,” I stared at him. “I’ve already been tossed away by you once. The first time, shame on you. If I let you do it again, shame on me.”

  He smiled.

  “We’ve got a lot to talk about,” he suggested.

  I shook my head again.

  “No, we don’t,” I disagreed. “You said enough a year ago when you broke my heart.”

  His eyes softened.

  “Maybe,” he said. “But you broke mine, too, when you didn’t even try to fight for me.”

  My eyes widened, but he stepped back and closed the door before I could reply.

  Had I done that?

  Yeah, I guess I did.

  But was that what he’d wanted me to do? Fight for him?

  Surely, if he’d still wanted me in his life, I’d be with him right now. He wouldn’t have broken up with me in the first place if he’d felt that way about me.

  My head turned to the side as I watched Alexa twirl her finger around a stray lock of hair, her eyes honed in on Dean who was leaning haphazardly against the door.

  “I’m so fucked,” I whispered to myself.

  Almost as if he’d heard me, Dean turned to survey me inside, checking to make sure I was okay.

  Once he’d ascertained I was alright, he turned back to his conversation with Alexa.

  Then, to add the icing on to the cake that was my fucking day, he laughed and pulled her into a hug.

  Alexa’s eyes met mine over his shoulder, and she smiled smugly.

  I didn’t bother to do anything.

  What would be the point?

  She’d already fucked me over. What was she going to do now?

  Dean was already out of my life, and if I had my wish, he would stay that way.

  Chapter 9

  When she’s mad at you, tighten all the jar lids so she has to talk to you.

  -Man hacks

  July

  Three days later

  “Oh, my God, Angie. Why is this not fitting?” I cried in annoyance, staring at the wall where I was putting boards up to embellish the room somewhat.

  “Two by sixes are actually five and a quarter,” a deep, heavily annoyed voice ground out from behind me.

  I stiffened.

  My back went ramrod straight as I turned and glared at the interloper.

  “What are you doing here?” I snapped.

  He crossed his arms over his chest, his muscles bulging and bunching with the movement.

  My mouth went dry, my eyes staring at his chest in fascination.

  Dean’s chest had a way of making me tongue-tied on the best of days. Today, however, I’d snuck out of his house while he was in the shower, having called a cab to take me to my project house.

  I’d even gone as far as to lock all the doors, too.

  I kept quiet when the knocking had started an hour ago, and had been doing a bang up job, I thought, of pretending that I wasn’t here.

  Then Angie had arrived, and she obviously left the door unlocked when she came in.

  “You’re supposed to be in bed,” he said, not answering my question or reacting to the clear annoyance in my voice.

  “I’m tired of being in bed,” I said, crossing my arms.

  The action was wasted, because the moment I crossed my arms, a sharp pain shot through my shoulder as the wound at my back pulled.

  The grimace that came over my face fled within seconds as I tried to compose myself, but Dean saw it and started forward.

  “No!” I shook my finger at him.

  He ignored me, gathering me up in his arms like one would a small child, and started stalking back to the front door.

  “Call the cops, Angie!” I yelled at my friend.

  Angie waved at me.

  “If this were me, you’d do the same!” she called just as the door closed.

  I narrowed my eyes but didn’t fight.

  What would be the point?

  In the end the result would be the same. I’d still end up in Dean’s truck on the way back to his house.

  He deposited me in the front seat while Bowe and Drew watched from their perches on the roof, both men finding the entire thing hilarious.

  I flipped them both off, causing them to laugh even harder.

  “I see you got your roof up,” I muttered darkly, admiring the pretty red tin.

  I’d always loved the look of the red tin. I’d actually been planning it for my old house, but I hadn’t gotten the chance to put it on before I’d sold it.

  So I’d immediately requested bids from the installer when I’d purchased the new house.

  It had been my plan to get it done quickly, but I now knew it wasn’t going to happen.

  Not anytime soon, anyway.

  My budget had already been tight, which was why I was planning on tearing the shingles off the roof myself to save on labor costs.

  Now, though, there was no way in hell I could get up there and yank all those off. I’d tear my wound open.

/>   Meaning I had to call and cancel the roofers a couple days ago, putting my entire project on hold in order for me to heal before they could install it.

  “Yeah, looks good,” he agreed, accelerating into traffic.

  I stared at the glowing dashboard with all the fancy electronics and satellite radio.

  My truck got two stations and that was on a good day.

  It also ran like shit, and it was strongly recommended to me by every man who saw it that it was time for me to upgrade. Yeah, I got it, it was a piece of shit.

  “Good,” I agreed.

  “Yours gets on tomorrow, correct?” he asked.

  I shook my head.

  “No,” I changed the subject in hopes that I wouldn’t hear ‘I told you so’ out of him “What time do you have to be at work today?”

  I knew the hope in my voice was apparent, but I just couldn’t muster up the energy to conceal it.

  I hated being at his house with him. It felt too good. Felt too right.

  I didn’t need to become comfortable with Dean. Not again. Not after he’d ripped my heart out when he tossed me aside.

  “I’m not going back into work until next week,” he explained as he pulled into the Waffle Shop and shut the truck off. I stiffened when he got out and rounded the front of the truck, stopping at my door to hold it open for me. “Able took my shift for today, meaning you have me all to yourself.”

  I gritted my teeth and glared at him.

  He smiled and leaned over me to unbuckle my seatbelt, his muscled chest pushing into my thighs as he did.

  I had to fist my hands to keep myself from reaching forward and running my fingers through his hair, still damp from the shower even now, an hour after he’d taken one.

  Then I was up and out of the truck as he set me on my feet.

  “Come on, let’s go inside,” he pushed slightly on the small of my back to get me moving.

  He shut the door and locked it with his key fob, following close behind me as I reluctantly walked inside the very familiar restaurant.

  This had been our regular breakfast place. When we were together, we met up here at least once a week.

  The place I’d tried to return to only a week after we’d broken up just to find him and Alexa in our usual booth.

  I vowed that day to never come back here, and I hadn’t, not once in this entire long, awful year.

  Not only had I lost Dean, but I lost my favorite restaurant and favorite meal to boot!

  Painful memories assaulted me the moment I walked inside, the sound of a table full of old men having a heated discussion about the state of the economy washing over me, and I made a dash for the bathroom.

  Thankful that Dean hadn’t followed me, I slammed the door shut and leaned my back up against it.

  I couldn’t do this.

  I really couldn’t. Not here, and sure as hell, not now. Not after spending the last three days with him, having him wait on me hand and foot. He was literally breaking my heart over and over again, and the kicker was that he probably didn’t even know it.

  He would never purposefully rub it in my face like this.

  In fact, he’d said a few times that he never wanted to hurt me, and I knew that it was true.

  However, inadvertently or not, the pain I felt each morning I woke up beside him, compounded with the fact that he was taking me to the places that we used to go when we were together, was really hurting me.

  Deeply.

  So no, I couldn’t fucking do this anymore.

  I needed to get the fuck out of this place, out of Dean’s life, before this went so far that I couldn’t recover from it.

  Pulling out my phone, I dialed my brother’s number, knowing for sure that he would be able to help me. That he would be here to extract me from this mess I found myself in.

  “July, honey, I can’t talk right now. I’m so fucking busy, and this goddamned psychopath is fucking taunting me. Do you have any idea how shitty it is to be woken up at four in the morning with a call about a body I needed to look at?” he asked absently, speaking to me as if I was aware what he was talking about. “This motherfucker is dedicating his kills to me. Three of them. In three days.”

  I winced, not knowing what to say to that.

  So I went with what was in my heart.

  “I love you, Wolf,” I said softly. “I just wanted to hear your voice. I miss you.”

  “I love you, too,” Wolf replied immediately. “Do you mind if I call you back later tonight? How are you feeling?” he asked almost as an afterthought.

  “I’m well,” I lied. “Go. Work. Get paid to do something for once.”

  He snorted. “Bye. Be good.”

  He hung up, and I was left staring at the bathroom’s walls, admiring them.

  They’d redone them since the last time I’d been there.

  The walls were painted a nice shade of barn red, and the trim was stained dark brown, almost the color of pancake syrup.

  The countertop was pretty cool, too.

  I’d actually been considering doing the counters at my project house with a similar material.

  The cabinet was stained the same as the trim, and the countertop was a light brown granite with darker brown specks and flecks interspersed randomly all over it.

  I admired the bathroom so long that someone knocked on the door, letting me know that I needed to stop dilly-dallying and get on with it.

  “I’m almost done!” I called.

  A woman’s annoyed sigh had me wincing, and I hurried through the bathroom routine, washed my hands, and rushed outside, past the woman who clearly looked like she was pissed that she was made to wait.

  Then my eyes caught on the newly renovated main room of the tiny diner.

  I paused, my eyes scanning the roof and the corrugated tin they’d put up instead of the ugly white tile shit they’d had there before.

  I was so intent on the new renovations as I walked that I didn’t realize there was someone sitting at the table with Dean until I was upon them.

  My feet paused as the familiar hair of Alexa came into view, followed by her very revealing white tube top and jeans.

  I couldn’t pull off a tube top and jeans, but Alexa could.

  Easily.

  She had that perfect body that every woman wished she had, and she didn’t even work for it.

  She had it by the grace of God while I had to work three hours in the gym every day to even fit into my size fourteen pants.

  Lately, I’d been resorting to my fat pants as my usual pants, which wasn’t saying much for me at that moment in time.

  “There you are,” Dean said from the inside seat of the booth he was seated in. “Sit down. I already ordered for you.”

  I looked from him to Alexa who was sitting in the booth beside him and back to Dean before I shook my head.

  Turning to the booth two down from his, I took a seat and motioned Fran over.

  Fran smiled at me and bustled up to my table.

  “I sure am glad to see your bright and shining face,” she said, taking a seat across from me as she used to a year ago. “Dean ordered your usual. Is that okay?”

  I shook my head.

  “I’m on a diet,” I informed her.

  “On a diet?” Fran’s brows lowered. “Since when? You don’t need to be on a diet. You’re perfect.”

  “Since a couple of months ago,” I lied, because in reality, it was a fairly new thing. As in the last five minutes new. “And my thighs don’t agree with your opinion.”

  She giggled and picked her pen and pad up.

  “What do you want, then?” she asked.

  “I want an omelet with peppers, mushrooms, and spinach,” I read off the menu that’d been on the table when I’d sat down.

  Fran stood up and patted my shoulder.

  “So, I’m assuming you’re wanting water?” she guessed almost as an afterthought.

  I
nodded, holding my grimace in check.

  I hated water.

  It was so boring, but apparently that was what people on diets drank when their goal was to look like Alexa.

  “I’ll bring it right now, dear,” Fran promised bustling around the long counter that separated the room from the kitchen area.

  Just when I pulled out my phone, a warm body slid in next to me, pushing me over.

  “Scooch,” Dean said, boxing me in.

  I scooched, but only because I was forced to or he’d sit on me.

  Alexa, looking incredibly annoyed at the switch in seating arrangements, glared at me as she slid into the booth across from me.

  “Did you change your order?” Dean asked as he pulled me into his chest.

  I sent Alexa a smug smile as he did, causing her eyes to narrow.

  “I did,” I told him. “I don’t do pancakes anymore.”

  “Since when?” he asked.

  “Since a year ago,” I lied easily.

  His body went solid, and he stared at me.

  “Is that why you stopped coming here?” he asked.

  I shrugged, leaning away from his arm that was pulling me into his body.

  He didn’t let me retreat, and I swallowed a growl as I pulled my phone back out and started to check my emails.

  The phone was plucked from my fingers as he deposited it into his pocket.

  “Remember our rules,” he said almost absently.

  I blinked.

  “Our rules are forfeit now,” I told him, holding my hand out for my phone. “You can’t try to enforce them now.”

  Except he ignored my words, and moved so his arm was over the back of the booth, close, but not touching, the entire length of my shoulders.

  I looked down at the wood grain of the table.

  In fact, I looked at it so long and hard that I hadn’t realized there was a heady silence until Dean cleared his throat and stroked my shoulder to gain my attention.

  I looked up at him in surprise and saw that he was staring at me expectantly.

  “What?” I asked him, hoping he’d drop whatever he’d just asked.

  I wasn’t in the mood to talk. Not at all.

  My belly was fluttering, and my head was starting to ache.

  Not to mention that my wound was starting to ache from movement I shouldn’t have been making.

  “I asked you about your ten-year high school reunion,” he said. “Alexa made a comment about hers coming up in about a month, and I was just wondering if yours was soon as well.”