The Firefighter's Cinderella

by Dominique Burton

She nodded. “But he seemed to be happy with me tonight. Which makes me wonder. Do you do magic or voodoo, too?”

  “No, and my methods don’t hurt.”

  “What do you mean?” She looked puzzled.

  “It has to hurt if your own dad and the people in the building want you kicked out for helping others.”

  “Not at all. That’s the fun part. I love getting to him. To think I wrote a contract better than anybody he could hire. I loathed working for the family and, better yet, I get to treat IAs as normal paying clients. People he doesn’t consider fit to step foot in an office.

  “I actually like rumpling his tail feathers,” she went on. “In fact, I like doing it to most of my business counterparts. It serves them right. What hurts me is that my dad campaigns against the people I vow to protect.”

  “Oh, how well you would fit in with my dad and the gang at home.” C.J. stared at her with admiration. “They may not agree with your politics, but gumption? They love that in a girl, and you, my love, have plenty of it. Just like my sister-in-law, Sammi.”

  Tasha scratched her head. “Sammi’s the freelance photographer who’s married to Jake, right? I’d like to see some pictures she’s taken of Alaska. From what you’ve described, it sounds like a paradise.”

  “Would you consider going home with me?”

  “Yes, but not until this case with Mendez is settled. I couldn’t bear to put anyone else in my life at risk.”

  “Tasha?”

  “Yes?”

  “How do you feel about me?”

  Tasha leaned back in her seat. “I’m scared to answer that question. You know I’m crazy about you. I’m just nervous that if you’re around…”

  “I know what can happen. I take my life into my hands every day.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Get out of here before I just leave and say forget the D.A. and her documents.”

  Tasha leaned over and kissed his cheek, but he purposefully moved at the right time so he could give her a thorough kiss.

  “I’ll be back in five minutes.”

  “I’m counting.”

  With a laugh, she climbed out of the car and ran into the building.

  C.J. SAW HER TALK TO the security guard, then disappear. Moments later he could see lights on the third floor turn on. Relief filled him.

  He was settling back in the seat to wait when he heard the sound of an explosion, then saw the fireball. It whooshed through Tasha’s office, sending glass and debris onto the street. His heart filled with terror.

  Dear God, let her be alive!

  He called dispatch, then grabbed his trench coat and ran toward the blazing building. By the time he reached the doors, he’d gone into captain mode. He couldn’t believe people were standing in the lobby when a bomb had just gone off. Maybe they’d just finished a late night of work, but their lives were at stake.

  “San Francisco Fire Department,” he said in a booming voice. “There’s an extremely volatile fire on the third floor. Everyone out of the lobby now! Please exit calmly.” The alarms going off should be alerting people to get the hell out of there, anyway.

  The security guard was just a kid. “Until the fire trucks get here, you make sure to get everyone out of this lobby!” C.J. instructed. “Do you hear me, son?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  C.J. raced to the room where the main fire control system was located. From what he could see so far, Tasha’s father had spared no expense at fire safety. C.J.’s first lucky break. Living on a fault line tended to make people like George Bennington extra cautious about their investments.

  There should be fire monitors going off where the most damage was done, but on the security cameras all he saw was smoke.

  “Damn.” He couldn’t make out a thing.

  Sirens blared in the distance, but would the fire trucks make it here in time? He grabbed one of the pagers. “Natasha Bennington! Natasha Bennington! If you hear me, I need you to get to a safe place away from the fire and below the smoke. Benny, I’m coming for you!”

  C.J. looked around the rest of the room. He saw some safety helmets with face shields and an oxygen device, a civilian form that was easy to carry and would last ten minutes. He grabbed the gear and tucked it in a bag, which he slung over his shoulder.

  Once everything was steady, he prepped his own breathing apparatus, donned his mask and helmet. He picked up a fire extinguisher and headed out.

  WHEN TASHA BECAME AWARE of her surroundings, she realized she was on the floor, trapped there by something heavy. She could hear a voice calling. C.J.? She tried to concentrate, but couldn’t see anyone.

  She couldn’t stop shaking, nor could she move, and she wasn’t sure why. Maybe she was dead. Maybe she wasn’t with C.J. What if Mendez had her hostage in this dungeon filled with hissing and popping sounds? What was pressing on her ankle?

  Her eyes were watering. Billowing yellow clouds were coming nearer. She started to cough, but the more she did, the harder it was to breathe. This torture Mendez had devised had to end. He’d hurt enough families. If he’d hurt C.J….

  Reflexively, Tasha curled up in a ball. Her head hurt so badly she thought she was going to pass out. Cracking open her eyes again, she saw something that scared the hell out of her: her desk. Beyond it were the yellow, flickering flames of the fire creeping toward her.

  “C.J….help me….” It was all she could get out before she started to cough again from the smoke. She began to struggle with all her might to free herself, but her foot was trapped beneath the desk and she didn’t have the strength to push it off. Every effort brought on gasps of pain and waves of dizziness.

  The fire that was going to kill her was incredibly beautiful. It grew bigger and brighter, in hues of red, blue, yellow and green. Then it burst into orange.

  This fire monster—that was what C.J. and Tim called it—kept repeating its terrifying show, flaring high, coming closer. Anger welled up inside Tasha. She knew people died from smoke inhalation. Why wasn’t she dead?

  Her ankle was stuck under her own damn mahogany desk.

  “No, no, no. I’m not going to die by burning. I at least want to go by smoke inhalation.” She sat up. “I’m not going to let you burn me while I’m still breathing, you stupid twenty-thousand-dollar desk. I hate you!”

  Orange, green, blue smoke swirled around her head, while yellow smoke curled up her leg. She could feel the heat singing her skin. She tried to shoo it away, but now her hands stung, too.

  This is it.

  Cough. “Come and get me.” Cough. She fought to wriggle her foot loose one more time. “I don’t want to die!” She could feel sparks landing in her hair. She fell back on the floor and writhed in pain. Then she felt…water.

  Through the smoke she could make out a figure in a trench coat with some sort of face mask and helmet. He hosed down the wall and the desk, then came closer and hosed her hot body, so steam rose from it.

  The man aimed his fire extinguisher and buried part of the desk in foam. Once done, he took off a pack and gently put some sort of breathing apparatus on her. She’d been fighting for air, and now here it was.

  “Keep breathing,” he instructed through his mask.

  After she got more oxygen into her lungs, Tasha felt a little better. He put a fire shield on her face and a helmet on her head. She watched him move away with purpose. He seemed to be looking for something.

  When he picked up a small waiting-room chair and smashed it against the wall, she didn’t know if he’d gone mad or was a genius. It didn’t really matter. She was so grateful not to be alone in the fire monster’s lair.

  The man came back, a piece of wood in his hand, levering it against another chair to lift the desk enough for her to slide her foot out. The pain made her scream, but she kept pulling until she was free. He picked her up and carried her to a place of safety near Richard’s office.

  Her hero sure was strong. He brought over two pieces of wood, placed them on either side of her ankle and began to te
ar strips of material from his trench coat. He was trying to make a splint, but he didn’t seem happy with how it turned out.

  Tasha could feel his agitation as she came in and out of consciousness. She could be thankful for one blessing—C.J. wasn’t on duty tonight and wouldn’t be coming in here. The thought of him in this inferno was more than she could handle.

  When her rescuer still wasn’t getting the result he wanted, he quickly took off his breathing apparatus to remove his trench coat. That was when it finally clicked that C.J. had been with her the whole time. He was her hero. How could Tasha not have known? Was she in such denial that she’d pretended it wasn’t him?

  There he was—the man she loved, in dress uniform, protecting her. When he put his equipment back on, she could see how her cloudy mind might have not known who he was.

  She sat in awe as she watched C.J. use the belt from his trench coat to make the splint tighter. He had risked his life to come save her. Tears gushed down her cheeks. This man she loved had stormed the fires of hell to rescue her.

  Tasha had to tell him she loved him. He had to know the truth in case they never got out of here alive. She grabbed his mask, and he bent his face close to hers. “Are you in pain, sweetheart?”

  She shook her head. His concern for her at a time like this was overwhelming. “I love you, C.J. Do you hear me?”

  The fire was growing closer, its snakelike hisses growing louder.

  “Don’t you say goodbye to me, Tasha,” he warned. “Not now.”

  She shook her head and watched the man she loved battle hell itself. He gestured for her to stay put, then pointed at Richard’s office door. He was obviously going to break it down.

  “Lord…please help him,” she said.

  C.J. HAD NEVER FELT fear like he did on hearing Tasha scream as the fire licked toward her. If he hadn’t run inside and broken every rule in the book, she would be dead.

  She doesn’t need to face the fire monster anymore!

  His anger gave him strength. Even if he was put on leave for a while, he didn’t care. Hell, he could use the break. He wasn’t sure he could go right back to work, anyway, not after almost seeing her burned alive.

  The shock put him into fight-or-flight mode, giving him the strength to break through Richard’s office door with just a fire extinguisher. Not a moment too soon. He could see Tasha had been scooting herself into the middle of a ring of fire. He saw his supposed fireproof trench coat lying where she used to be.

  He wrapped it around his body and jumped in, making sure to roll free of the flames. As he grasped her in his arms, he saw the terror in her eyes. “We’re going to get out alive. Do you hear me?” he said.

  Tasha nodded trustingly. Her sweet face was the last thing he saw before he tucked her close and carried her into the other office, praying that the ladders were here by now. Through the window he saw a fire engine on the street below.

  He set her down, as far away from the flames as possible, then grasped a metal filling cabinet and swung it against the glass. The window it cracked, and soon there was another fireman on a ladder just outside, breaking more glass so they could get out.

  “Tasha—” he rushed over to her “—I’m going to carry you down the ladder, okay?”

  “As long as I’m with you, I’m fine.”

  “I love you, Benny.”

  “I love you, Jeremiah.”

  “Sweetheart? I’m going to have you rise on your good foot.” He helped ease her up. “That’s right. Now just lean over my shoulder, and Lieutenant Backer and I will get you down.”

  TASHA WATCHED EVERYTHING happen as if to someone else, as if she were seeing it in a movie. She wasn’t scared going down the ladder, but that was because C.J. kept her calm and steady.

  Thank heaven he never left her side. She looked up at the fiery inferno that had once had been her place of work. It was turning to ashes. How C.J. got them out was a miracle. Even the other firemen were talking about it. The lieutenant said the chances were a million to one.

  C.J. rode along in the ambulance with her and held her hand while the paramedics did their work. He never let go. As they rolled her into the emergency room, the last thing she saw before the painkiller took over were those loving blue eyes.

  TASHA WOKE UP with a start, screaming, “C.J., don’t let the fire get me!”

  He leaned over her. “You’re out of the fire, sweetheart. Look around. That’s just sunlight coming in the room.”

  She opened her eyes, feeling groggy from the pain medication. C.J. sat on the side of the bed and put his arm around her.

  “Tasha, darlin’?” Genevieve said. “Your dad and I have been here all night.”

  She could hear the click of her mother’s shoes as she moved a chair closer. Tasha couldn’t remember a time when her mom had ever looked this stressed. Her father’s sure and steady footsteps soon followed, as he pulled up another chair next to her mother’s. “We’re both here for you, Tasha.”

  She lifted her head to look around. She was in a good-size hospital room; with two cots set up at the end of her bed. Her parents were wearing jeans and T-shirts. The worry on their faces was palpable.

  She turned to C.J. “What’s going on?” she whispered.

  “Let me explain,” her father said. “If you will, Tasha?” His eyes pleaded with her.

  She nodded, finding it easier than speaking. Then she closed her eyes, absorbing C.J.’s strength.

  Her dad leaned over and kissed her hand, which caused her to look at him curiously. “Dad, I’m alive,” she said in an effort to comfort him.

  “Barely, and it’s my fault. I was stupid to think I could have you protected on my own.” He was shaking. Tears fell from his eyes. Her mother’s eyes were bloodshot. Tasha could see and sense how upset they were.

  “But I’m fine,” she croaked. The smoke she’d inhalated was still making it hard to talk. “Will my foot heal?”

  C.J. caressed her cheek. “Yes. You’ll be walking with crutches for the next couple of weeks, with your cast. In six to eight weeks you should be able to return to normal.”

  “Will I be able to run again?”

  “With physical therapy, the doctor doesn’t think there would be any reason why you couldn’t.”

  “Thanks to you, C.J.” She turned to him urgently. “Thank you for everything.”

  He shook his head. “Just taking my girl on a tour to show her what I do for a living.”

  “That’s not funny, Jeremiah.”

  “I know,” he said emotionally.

  “We owe you everything, C.J,” George interjected. “You saved our little girl.”

  C.J. took a deep breath. “You owe me nothing. Tasha being right here safe is all the thanks I need.” He gave her a squeeze.

  She looked at her parents. “I’m sorry I’ve been doing such dangerous work.”

  “No, Tasha,” her father said. “You have nothing to be sorry about. I’m the one who owes you an apology. Since I’ve been running on the platform of stopping illegal immigration, I’ve been receiving death threats, but then threats of harming you started coming about ten months ago.”

  “Isn’t that pretty normal for a politician, Dad?”

  “I’ve always taken anything to do with you very seriously. One of the threats against you was a death threat. I went to the FBI immediately. They didn’t think much at first, either, because there was no pattern to assume the threats were from the same person. But I’ve had you being watched in your office night and day.”

  “You mean the security guards aren’t there because the other tenants hate me?”

  “It’s true they aren’t happy with you. But they never would have put security detail on you night and day.”

  “What are you talking about, night and day?” Tasha sat up straighter.

  “You don’t think I’d let you go into Amigos without someone watching you the whole time, do you?”

  Tasha’s mouth dropped open. “You’ve known what I’ve
been doing all along and never said a word?”

  “Now, Tasha. You and I are very much alike. We love our independence. I never wanted to take yours away. I just hired ex-secret service men to follow you. They were good and knew how to stay out of your way.”

  Tasha looked at her dad and mom in a new light. For the past year, since she’d started her firm, she’d never once thought how her actions might worry them. “Well, I’m still sorry I’ve scared you.”

  Both her parents looked taken aback. Her mother rubbed Tasha’s arm. “We’re very proud of what you’ve accomplished. It’s been keepin’ your father up at night, but we admire your tenacity. We just didn’t realize how entrenched you’ve been. Then those threats came and we had to protect our only child without breaking her spirit.”

  “When your house went up in flames,” George said, “we thought for sure it was one of your enemies. You can’t imagine our surprise when it came back as faulty wiring. Regardless, we were so pleased you were willing to move to the penthouse. We thought we could keep you safer there.”

  He hung his head “When the call came tonight that your office had blown up, I thought my stubbornness about not warning you had gotten you killed.”

  Tasha reached over to squeeze her father’s hand. “I thought that with me going after Mendez, it was all my fault. I’ve been chasing a tiger by the tail.”

  George met her gaze again. “He’s just one of many drug lords plaguing our country. I have many enemies who want to hurt me and my family.”

  “That’s horrible.”

  “But when I thought of the burning building and you in it, I was gripped by fear that I might have lost my dearest Tasha. Like I said, we’ve been having you followed for a while.”

  Tasha saw her parents so differently now. Before the incident tonight she would have been furious to think her freedom and privacy had been taken away. But to realize they cared this much astounded and touched her.

  George looked at her mother, then back at her. “Tasha…this is going to be hard to say.”

  She stared at him and then at C.J., whose face was tight with worry. “What?”