Beyond the Fire

by Cheryl Pierson

  “Can you get a trace on this cell number?”

  “It’ll take a few minutes,” the operator answered waspishly. “Isn’t there someone you can just ask?”

  Jack was near the end of his patience. “Hardly,” he responded frostily. “They’re all dead.” He handed the phone to Granger. “Here. Keep the line open and try to stay awake.”

  Granger nodded. “You’ll go far with that bedside manner, Taylor.”

  Jack strode purposefully toward the door, only stopping long enough to take Watson’s phone. Right now, he needed that almost as much as he needed a weapon. Grimly, he dialed the headquarters number again as he ran toward the orange glow in the dark woods ahead.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The fire Kendi had started was a good one. Maybe too good, she thought, watching it now. She’d been in a rush to get it going quickly, and it had certainly cooperated. The leaves on the forest floor had ignited with frightening speed in spite of the dampness from the layers of ice and light snow.

  Once she got it burning, she moved deeper into the woods, intending to make a loop down to the creek. She could follow the creek bed back to the house. She felt for the .44 again, reassuring herself as she moved through the darkness.

  There was no telling what Jack had had to do, or even if he was still alive. She swallowed the lump in her throat, blinking back the sudden stinging in her eyes.

  Falling in love as quickly as they had under these terrible circumstances was a lot to reckon with. Kendi knew in her heart they were going to make it work, in spite of the incredible odds. If only... Jack has to be alive. He just has to be.

  Jack had trusted her. He had told her things he’d never confided to anyone else. In turn, Kendi had let her own walls come down. Her heart was vulnerable once again. It scared her, but how could she turn away from something so wonderful and real, even if something happened and she lost Jack? If he ended up leaving her, like Tal had, how would she survive it?

  No. That wouldn’t happen. She cast a glance over her shoulder, barely able to see the fire now. Most likely, it would take everything—the house, the barn, maybe even the long-forgotten ramshackle “guest house.” The structure had long ago been relegated to nothing more than a playhouse, but she had spent many of her happiest hours there. Away from the sadness that had pervaded the Morgan home since Heather’s death.

  The fire would burn uncontrolled, long enough to wipe out every material trace of the Morgan family. Strangely, she was at peace with that, if it happened. There was no help for it. She wouldn’t sacrifice Jack, Jason, and her own life for the sake of the house. Her future lay beyond the fire, with Jack…

  She took a deep breath. Her truck would be gone, too. It was parked in the familiar place where her dad had always parked his truck when he’d been alive.

  She emerged from the stand of trees into a small, cleared edge of ground that ran parallel to the creek. Breathing heavily, she stopped to get her bearings and take note of her surroundings. She would not do something stupid—like walk into Sanchez’s hands.

  By now, she was sure he’d sent his men to investigate the blaze. And, by now, her nearest neighbors, the Lewis family, would probably have seen the orange glow and called the fire department.

  Cautiously, she began to work her way back around toward the barn, the sound of the flames crackling in the distance. A loud explosion sounded from the heart of the fire, and she jumped. The pine trees were disintegrating within the inferno. Maybe the explosions would cause a distraction for Sanchez and his men, at least until they figured it out.

  Jason would know what it was, if he still lived.

  Her anger at Jason was slipping away, and though she tried desperately to hold onto it, another part of her wanted nothing more than to forgive him and welcome her brother back into her life.

  Jack understood both sides of the coin. But he had not witnessed the devastation Jason’s unexplained disappearance had caused her family. She’d tried to hide her utter disappointment in him for years, but her parents had known. They’d felt it even more keenly than she.

  Now, the thought of losing him again was unbearable. He was her brother, and she loved him, even though she still felt the disappointment keenly.

  Standing here wasn’t helping. She needed to get back to the house. She started off once more along the creek bank. She knew every inch of this land, growing up here, playing here as a child, and now, as the landowner herself.

  It would take about ten minutes for her to make it back to the barn. What would she find when she got there? In ten minutes, she’d know whether Jack lived, or…if he had been killed. A shudder rippled through her. How could she stand it if—

  No. She wouldn’t even consider the possibility that loomed in her mind like a sinister specter. Jack lying in a pool of blood, help too far away to reach him in time.

  She had to know. She’d caught her breath enough to travel again and began to hurry, trying to ignore the painful stitch in her side. Her feet crunched in the snow and ice-covered bracken as she made her way toward the barn, the cold night air stinging her lungs.

  The smell of the burning woods assailed her as she made the final turn toward the barn. The wind had gotten stronger and shifted, and she realized the fire would be burning at an even more alarming rate.

  A rough hand clamped around her forearm just as another came over her lips and covered them along with any noise she might have made. Her startled cry was cut off as Jack’s mouth claimed hers, his hands framing her face.

  Her arms went around his waist. She blinked back tears until it became useless to try, and she let them come. Jack pulled back, looking at her, his hands cupping her cheeks.

  “Jack...Jack...” His name was a softly-whispered litany.

  “Kendi, don’t cry, baby, don’t cry.” He kissed the dampness away, soothing her hurriedly.

  “Are you all right?” she asked softly.

  “I’m okay.”

  “I was so worried—”

  “I know, but it’s all right. I’m all right.”

  His mouth took hers again, his need for her obvious in the urgency of his kiss. Kendi responded hotly to him, her heart pounding in a mixture of fear and want.

  “Will I ever get enough of you?” he murmured, lifting his head.

  That brought a shaky smile to her lips. “I hope not.”

  His mouth curved up, but there was a wistful look in his eyes. “C’mon. Let’s go.” He grabbed her hand.

  “Jack? What’s wrong?”

  “Ken—I’m not sure what we’ll find when we get back.”

  She swallowed hard, hurrying to keep up with him. Her mind raced as fast as her legs. “Jason, you mean? Is he...dead?”

  Jack turned to glance back over his shoulder. “He wasn’t when I left, but he’s lost a lot of blood. I just want you to understand...”

  He broke off, and Kendi got the feeling he was talking about so much more than Jason. She stopped quickly, needing to catch her breath. “What are you trying to tell me?”

  Jack was winded, too, and as the clouds parted overhead, she could see the lines of worry and pain etched deep in his face.

  “I killed Sanchez. I’ll likely kill Bull, and Boils, before this ends.” He took a step toward her, but didn’t reach for her. In the distance, another pine tree exploded like canon fire. “How are you gonna feel about me then? Especially if you have to see me do it? Am I gonna lose you, Kendi?”

  ****

  He was a murderer. Funny, Jack had never thought of it quite so bluntly before. But there was no denying it. Call a spade a spade. He had to know now—before he invested any more emotional want, or need, into Kendi Morgan. He wasn’t used to this—any of it—except the mercenary emotions, or lack thereof, that allowed him to be able to kill, and do a good job of it.

  He was a damn fool, and he knew it. He’d risked everything once, a long time ago, and lost it.

  But somewhere inside, a small voice insisted he deserved a second
chance at heaven, and Kendi was it.

  She closed the space between them, reaching for him. Her hands grasped his arms and pulled him close, then her arms went around him.

  He could feel the stiff aloofness deserting him as she held him near to her heart. He could swear he felt the broken pieces of his own heart mending themselves in her silent embrace. The strength of spirit that he needed to do what must be done came back to him in a rush. Slowly, he enfolded her, breathing in the sweet scent of her shampoo as she laid her head on his shoulder.

  “You’re never gonna lose me, Jackson. Not unless—unless you want it that way.”

  “It’s the only thing I’m afraid of.”

  “You don’t need to be.”

  He smiled wryly. “Then I guess I’m pretty dangerous. A man with nothing to fear.”

  The forest floor crunched unnaturally behind them, and Kendi stiffened in his arms just as a gun barrel jabbed into the small of his back.

  “Well, now, Taylor,” Boils gloated, “a man with nothing to fear ain’t the same thing as a man with nothing to lose. Right now, I’d say you’re both.”

  Jack released Kendi, slowly putting his hands in the air. “Easy with that gun, Boils,” he said quietly.

  “Bull is sure gonna be surprised to see you alive, Taylor. He swore up an’ down you was dead. He’ll prob’ly run scared soon as he lays eyes on you—figure you for a ghost. C’mon, now. Move.”

  Boils walked behind Jack, with Kendi leading the way, back to the barn. The barrel of his gun found its way into the small of Jack’s back every few steps, Boils’s way of reminding him who was in charge.

  Boils had relieved Jack of his guns with a triumphant smile before they’d started back toward the barn.

  Kendi still had the .44, her baggy shirt covering the weapon. Jack had felt it as Kendi held him close to her, just moments earlier.

  Jack’s mind was running fast to figure a way out of this. He couldn’t count on any assistance from Jason, or the two FBI agents.

  If Granger had managed to get some help on the way out here...

  Can’t bank on that. Jack reached to steady Kendi as she stumbled, and Boils’s gun barrel was planted firmly in Jack’s back.

  “No sudden moves, Taylor. You could find yourself dead before it’s time.” Boils snickered. “Although I’d say you’re overdue. You shoulda died when Bull and Clint drove you out here to put a bullet in you. But that didn’t happen, and I’m wonderin’ why. I promise you, Sanchez will do it right. Might even give me the pleasure of poppin’ you.”

  “Something to look forward to,” Jack said conversationally.

  “It’s the only reason you ain’t already dead,” Boils assured him. “Sanchez will want to watch. Make sure it’s finally done right, you know?”

  Jack’s lips curved sardonically in the darkness. “Yeah. I know.” Sanchez isn’t gonna be watching you ‘pop’ anyone.

  As if she’d read his thoughts, Kendi glanced over her shoulder at him. Their eyes met briefly before Boils shouted at her to, “Turn around and keep marching.”

  They were nearing the barn. Once Boils knew Sanchez was dead, there was no doubt Boils would shoot them, take the truck, and flee the scene. Jack wasn’t going to let it go down that way at all. But to be sure Boils was dead, he’d have to do it now. If the local police were to show up, they’d want Boils alive. Jack had to end it now.

  Just as the dim outline of the barn came into view, Jack stopped suddenly. As Boils collided with him, Jack turned quickly, slugging him.

  Pain shot through Jack’s hand, but he shoved it aside, put it out of his mind. He tackled Boils, landing another hard punch that snapped Boils’s head back against the ground.

  But Boils was reaching for the gun Jack had knocked out of his grip. It lay on the snow-dusted ground beside where the two men wrestled in deadly hand-to-hand battle.

  Boils was wild with fear. He fought with the rough tactics of a street fighter. And he was desperate. Even though Jack was still recovering from the torture he’d endured at Sanchez’s hands days earlier, he knew he had just taken on the fight of his life. They both understood one of them was going to die.

  But Jack had the edge. He had to protect Kendi. If Boils got the upper hand, she would die, too.

  Jack threw an awkward uppercut that managed to find a lucky mark. Boils released him immediately, all thought of the gun forgotten as his hands moved upward in a defensive motion.

  Jack’s next blow smashed the other man’s trachea. Boils’s scream of pain was muted, and Jack wrapped his arms around Boils’s head with a twisting motion that snapped his neck.

  He looked down in the dim light as the life guttered out of Boils’s expression. Slowly, Jack released him and started to get up. Slicing pain tore at his ribs. He was sure he hurt all over, but the adrenaline in his body was so strong he felt nothing but the knifing agony at his ribs and the pounding of his heart.

  He rose to his feet, flexing his hands, then bent to pick up the gun they’d fought for. He tucked it into his waistband with a deep breath, somehow unable yet to meet Kendi’s eyes. If he was honest, he’d admit he was afraid of what he’d see. He had killed a man with his bare hands while she watched. What must she think of me now?

  ****

  Kendi stood, frozen, beside a huge oak tree at the edge of the woods. The fight between Jack and Boils had probably taken no more than two or three minutes, but it felt like an eternity to her. She’d literally watched a battle to the death that, in turn, had decided her own future. If Boils had been the victor, she certainly would have been murdered after Sanchez’s gang was through with her.

  She pulled the night air deep into her lungs. She realized she’d been holding her breath, as the air rushed into her, then out again, in rapid succession.

  The November moonlight illuminated the field beyond the edge of the woods, and in the distance, a siren wailed. Kendi met Jack’s eyes as he stood up. He looked at her almost questioningly and she realized, then, what he must be thinking.

  She stepped toward him. He took a deep breath of his own, trying to control the shallow, rapid panting of the battle’s aftermath. His hand went to his ribs absently, massaging them quickly, and he swallowed hard.

  Kendi put her hands out as she came toward him. He hesitated a brief moment, then enfolded her close to him. “Thank you,” she whispered as she came into the solid fortress of his arms, his chest hard against her breasts, his head dipping to lock hers next to him, her cheek resting on his muscled shoulder.

  “Thank you so much, Jack.” She said it louder this time, wanting him to understand that, with her gratitude, there was a complete acknowledgement and understanding of what he’d done, and how much it meant to her.

  His fingers splayed through her hair, and she could feel the steadying thrum of his heart next to hers.

  “No one ever fought for me.”

  He smiled against her head. “That’s a nice way of saying it.”

  She drew back and looked up at him. “I mean it, Jack. I know you were fighting for your life, but you knew—” she faltered, her eyes welling with hot tears that came from nowhere “—you knew what would happen to me. If you lost.” She shook her head. “I’m not saying this right.”

  Jack cupped her face in his hands and lifted her head. “You couldn’t have said it any better. I hear an ‘I love you’ in there, don’t I, Ken? Cause I sure as hell love you.”

  The tears spilled over as his mouth closed over hers, searchingly at first. Kendi held him even nearer, giving a soft moan of surrender as his tongue invaded her mouth. She pulled away after a moment, looking into his eyes. “Forever. I’ll always love you, Jack,” she whispered.

  He smiled at her, his gaze drinking her in. “Let’s wrap this up, Kendi. Bull’s still out there, somewhere.” His tone was determined, but there was also a quiet certainty that was reassuring to her. Everything would be all right. It had to be.

  He turned away, searching Boils’s body for t
he other weaponry he was sure to carry. A quick check revealed all but one of the guns was nearly out of ammo. He emptied the remaining chambers of one of the revolvers and tossed the gun away, putting the bullets into his pocket. The small semi-automatic had three rounds remaining in the clip. He released the clip and dropped it into his pocket with the bullets, holding the .38 at the ready.

  Looking at Kendi, he reached for her hand.

  The sirens had gotten steadily louder, and Kendi could see the red and blue lights of the police cars as they turned down the gravel road toward the house.

  She met his steady look, took his hand, and together, they walked toward the barn. She could face anything now, as long as they were together.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The procession of local law enforcement vehicles, ambulances, and fire trucks were followed shortly by FBI and Drug Enforcement Agency SUVs.

  As Kendi and Jack approached the barn, he turned to her quickly and dropped a light kiss on her forehead.

  “Jack? What’s wrong?”

  The uncertainty in his eyes tore at her. What is he trying to tell me?

  “Kendi, it may get a little rough from here on out.”

  Her heart jumped, then thundered ahead. “You mean rougher than it has been? I don’t see how it could—”

  “Trust me,” he responded wryly. “They aren’t gonna know me from Adam.”

  “But aren’t there representatives from your offices here?”

  Jack turned to scan the vehicles carefully in the darkness. “I hope so,” he said softly. But she could tell he didn’t recognize anyone he knew yet.

  “Jason will vouch for you. He and the police chief went to school together.”

  Jack was looking at her oddly, with a mixture of sadness and regret. Kendi swallowed hard, remembering what he’d said about Jason and the rough shape he’d been in. Her breath seemed to desert her, and she felt dizzy. She put her hand out and he pulled her close.

  “You’d tell me about Jason, wouldn’t you? If he was—” Her words were sharp and broken off quickly. She felt as if she were disintegrating. Earlier, when Jason had shown up on the front doorstop, she’d threatened to kill him. Now, everything had changed. Completely. Jason was her brother, and although she didn’t agree with what he’d done, he was all she had left of her family. She wanted the chance to understand. And she wanted the opportunity to forgive him.