Dallas Fire & Rescue: Hearts Afire (Kindle Worlds Novella) (MacKay Destiny Book 3)

by L. J. Garland

  Her stomach clenched. How much longer could she go on like this? Hiding. Though the sex with Aiden was off the charts, she wanted her life back. She wanted to be a P.I. again.

  She wanted to tell Aiden she loved him.

  Wait. What?

  She stopped in the middle of the bedroom…and smiled.

  Yes. I do. I love Aiden MacKay.

  As she turned toward the bathroom, she spotted his cell phone charging on the dresser, and paused. I can’t tell him until this whole Donnie Mizener mess is taken care of. It’s been over two weeks since I’ve spoken to anyone. Maybe he’s been captured.

  She picked up the phone, did a quick Internet search for the prosecuting attorney she’d spoken with while in FBI custody, and tapped the dial icon.

  “Phillip Dresner,” a deep voice answered on the third ring.

  “Mr. Dresner, this is Jessica Parker.”

  “Ms. Parker!” his voice boomed. “You’re alive. When those FBI agents were killed, everyone thought you’d been kidnapped.”

  So, the agents were dead, not injured. Her heart sank.

  “Where are you?”

  “I’m somewhere…safe.” She clutched the cell phone. “Tell me about the Donnie Mizener case. Is he…?”

  “The police still haven’t caught him, I’m afraid. And now that evidence is missing—”

  She straightened. “What?”

  “Yes. The day you disappeared, the pictures you took, your phone, the memory chip, and your digital camera…everything in FBI evidence relating to Donnie Mizener was stolen.”

  Holy shit! She’d heard the agents talking about missing evidence, but she’d thought it had to be another case. “So can they still prosecute him for Marla Fraser’s murder?”

  “He’ll go to trial for escaping jail, but there’s nothing to place him at the scene. Without those photos you took, all we have is circumstantial evidence and your testimony. All physical evidence burned up in the motel fire. Worst scenario the judge’ll throw the case out. Best? Mizener will do a few months in a minimum security facility at most.”

  Her stomach knotted, threatening to empty the bit of coffee she’d drunk this morning. “Wait.”

  “What’s that, Ms. Parker?”

  “I’ve got copies.” She’d bcc’d herself when she’d sent the original email to the police.

  “You do?” His voice held disbelief. “Where are they?”

  “In a safe place,” she assured him. She’d access her email from Aiden’s computer and print out new copies, and make another copy on a flash drive. “If the police can find Donnie Mizener, I’ve got the evidence you need to put him away.” And then I can have my life back, and maybe start something more permanent with Aiden.

  “Where are you, Ms. Parker? I need to let the FBI know so they can protect you.”

  “No.” She wasn’t going to be the reason any more agents were killed. “I’m safe. That’s all you need to know, Mr. Dresner. I’ll send you a copy of the pictures in a few days. You can forward them to the FBI.”

  She ended the call and didn’t feel the least bit bad about cutting him off, either. She knew the prosecuting attorney had her best interests at heart, but all he would’ve done was keep asking her where she was, and she wasn’t about to tell him. She wasn’t going to tell anyone. Doing so would put Aiden in danger, and she couldn’t risk losing him.

  Plugging his phone back into the charger, she hurried into the bathroom to start the shower. Everything would work out. It had to. She stripped off her clothes and turned on the faucet. In the meantime, she planned to enjoy soaping up Aiden.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The following morning, Jessica awoke to find the space next to her in the bed, empty. A smile curled her lips. Yesterday had been wonderful. After she’d soaped up Aiden—very thoroughly—in the shower, they’d tumbled into bed, where she’d kissed and teased his body until he’d rolled them both over and taken her hard and fast. It had been so amazing, she might just request a second performance.

  And just where was her man? Rising, she tugged on shorts and a T-shirt, letting the scents of fresh-brewed coffee lead her to the kitchen. Two mugs sat on the counter. In front of them, a handwritten note.

  Jess-

  Went out to grab breakfast. Back soon.

  Love,

  A

  Her heart skipped a beat. Love? Ohmigod. She read the note again, a thrill shooting through her as she came to the four little letters the second time. Does he mean love-love. Or is it just a see ya later-love? She nibbled her bottom lip as she tried to read the intent behind his note. Maybe everything will work out. Maybe I can stay in Sacramento or he can come to Tampa or—

  Meow?

  Ptomaine sat next to his food bowl, staring up at her with soulful kitty eyes.

  “Hungry?” She searched the cabinets for a bag of kibble. Where did Aiden keep it? Checking the pantry, she found a clear container filled with crunchy bits. She picked up his bowl and dumped several scoops of food into it. The sweet tom wove around and between her ankles, purring his thank you. When she returned the bowl to the floor, he ate like he hadn’t eaten in days.

  She stroked his soft fur. “You’re a good boy.”

  He paused in eating, turning to nudge her hand with his head. He purred louder, and she giggled. Seems Ptomaine may have accepted me into his inner circle.

  The cat returned to his bowl.

  Jess straightened, her heart feeling full because, for the first time in a while, she wasn’t alone. Several years ago, her parents had passed in a car accident while on vacation in South Florida. Since then, she’d marched forward on her own. When she’d witnessed Marla’s murder and been tucked away into a safe house for months on end, she’d planned to pick up the pieces of her life and start again after justice had been served. But then everything had spun out of control. Donnie Mizener had escaped custody and killed two FBI agents.

  Scared, alone, she’d focused on staying alive and out of Mizener’s crosshairs. Then she’d run into Aiden. And now she wasn’t alone anymore.

  She poured herself a cup of coffee then headed for the living room and back porch beyond. Sitting outside, enjoying the morning, would be nice. Maybe, when Aiden returned, they could share breakfast out there.

  “I’ve been looking for you.”

  The deep grating voice caused her to stutter step. Dark dangerous eyes met hers. Donnie Mizener! How—? A hard dump of adrenaline-laden fear jolted her into action, and she flung her mug at him.

  The cup smacked his arm as he tried to fend it off, but hot coffee splashed his face and chest. He growled.

  She spun back the way she came, toward the kitchen. She needed a weapon, a pot, pan, knife—something. If she didn’t injure him, slow him down somehow, she’d never make it out the front door. As she sprinted over the tiles, she grabbed anything she could reach and threw it to the floor.

  “Fuck!” Donnie tripped and fell. “I’m gonna hurt you bad, bitch!”

  Jessica dashed through the kitchen and into the dining room. She toppled a chair behind her. Flip the table.

  Hell no! He’ll be on you. Run!

  Her survival instinct rode her hard. She pumped her legs, long strides taking her to the foyer. Reaching out, she grasped the doorknob. Locked! She fumbled with the tiny twist-latch.

  Fingers dug into her scalp, knotted in her short tresses, and snapped her head back. Losing her balance, she yelped and tumbled to the floor. He dragged her across the tiles by her hair as she slapped and scratched at his grip, struggled to get to her feet. But he kept tugging, tossing her back to her knees again. Her heart hammered, a wild animal frantic to escape her ribcage.

  Donnie yanked her into the living room. She struggled to keep up while on her knees, the carpet harsh against her skin.

  “Let me go!” She dug her nails into the hand holding her captive, tore at the skin on his forearm.

  A huge hand cracked against her cheek. Stars flicked in front of her eyes. Pain se
ared her face, rattled her brain. She sucked in air, trying to stop the room from spinning.

  Merrr-row!

  Donnie released her, and she fell forward. Feral growling ripped the air, and she lifted her head toward the sound. Through tear-filled eyes, she saw Ptomaine latched onto Donnie’s shoulder. The tom hissed and spit and growled, sharp claws scratching the man’s neck and face, his teeth sinking into Donnie’s ear.

  “Fuck!”

  Jess sucked in air. Before she could make a move, the bastard reached back, grabbed Ptomaine in his meaty fist, and flung the cat against the wall.

  Thunk.

  A limp gray body slid down the sheetrock, landing in a heap at the baseboard.

  Oh my God! “No!” Jessica pushed to her feet, her own claws out. As she prepared to leap, the asshole who’d hurt Ptomaine turned toward her. Dark metal flashed in his hand.

  At the last second, her brain recognized the deadly weapon as her body lunged forward.

  Pop! Pop!

  ***

  Aiden inhaled the sweet scents coming from the white deli bag sitting next to him on the truck’s bench seat. Chocolate cream pie doughnuts. The same doughnuts he’d been carrying on the day he and Jess ran into each other. Except these weren’t smashed. No, these were fresh-from-the-oven gooey goodness. And she would love them. She’d remember the turkey sandwich they’d shared and how they’d each had a slightly mangled chocolate cream pie doughnut for dessert. Because Jess remembered that type of thing. He smiled. And, apparently, I do, too.

  He glanced down at the bundle of mixed spring flowers he’d made an extra stop to purchase. The bright colors reminded him of how having Jess in his life again had brightened his whole world. It wasn’t the sex—though that was off-the-charts, crazy hot. And it wasn’t that she was not only beautiful but smart, too. Or the fact she’d trusted him, sharing not just her body but her past and the horrible things she’d witnessed in the present as well. It was all of that. Everything. And more. But the one thing that had tipped his scales? That she’d looked beyond the damage the fire had done to him, beyond the scars marring his back, and had seen and accepted him for the man he was. She didn’t care about his job or his house or how much money he did or didn’t have. She cared about him.

  And her love had changed him on a deep level. He found he no longer rolled in self-pity, blaming the sad, lonely state his life had become on a fire call gone wrong. Or a drug dealer who’d cooked meth in the building’s basement. Or the woman who’d started the fire that had taken a year of his life in hospital stays, surgeries, skin grafts, and rehabilitation. With Jess, he saw the world through her gorgeous green eyes. The Universe has a plan. He chuckled. Well, at least the Universe brought me Jess.

  Had he ever bought flowers for a woman? Maybe his mother, when he was younger. Before she and Dad died. Definitely for his grandmother, every year on the day she and Granddad had taken Aiden, Kat, and Brigit home to live with them. But a woman he dated? No, he didn’t think he ever had. A woman like Jess deserves flowers.

  He pulled up to the four-way stop, flipped his blinker on then turned onto his street. In just a few moments, she’d be in his arms again. His heartbeat increased at the thought of all the curvy sweet softness pressed against him. He could hold her forever.

  Forever….

  Would she want him to hold her forever? He sure hoped so.

  But she has a job, a life back in Tampa.

  I wonder if she’d consider—

  Slamming on the brakes, Aiden stared, unable to comprehend what he saw.

  His chest tightened. His heart dropped to his knees.

  Holy shit! My house is on fire!

  Chapter Sixteen

  Black smoke curled from the north end of the house. The end where the bedroom is. Where Jess is sleeping! He rammed the truck into park, jumped out, and sprinted up the driveway.

  Reaching the front door, he tried the knob but found it locked. Damn it, he’d left his keys in the truck. Instead of running to get them, he reared back and kicked the door in. Wood cracked on the first attempt. Splintered and gave way on the second.

  As smoke billowed out the opening, fear grasped him by the throat and squeezed. Ice shot through his veins straight down to his toes. He hadn’t been in a burning building since….

  He gritted his teeth. Fuck this.

  Years of training kicking in, he took several breaths of clean air then hunkered over and darted into the house. He ran through the dining room, around a toppled chair, and into the kitchen. Pots and pans lay in the floor. What happened here? He headed into the hallway. Covering his mouth and nose with the crook of his arm, he crouched lower as smoke pressed down on him. Flames already licked the doorway, his bedroom fully involved.

  Maybe she got out. Maybe she escaped through the window and—

  Crash!

  He swung around, the sound having come from the living room. He shuffled down the hallway, one hand on the wall to help himself stay oriented. Heat blazing from behind, blow torched the scars on his back. Memories of the floor giving way beneath him slammed into his mind. The shock. The utter loss of control. His inability to save himself—

  No damn it! This isn’t about me. This is about Jess. She needs me.

  Crouching lower, he made his way to the living room and paused by the couch. Smoke made it past the barrier of his arm, the acrid toxin searing his lungs, and he coughed. When he inhaled, another scent filled his nostrils.

  Gasoline.

  Something was wrong here. This wasn’t about faulty wiring or the stove being left on. This fire had been set intentionally.

  Someone’s trying to burn my house down.

  Something moved at the back of the house. Aiden squinted, the smoke burning his eyes, tears blurring his vision. A large form entered, carrying something.

  A gas can. Holy shit!

  The guy poured gasoline along the walls, over the lamp and side table, over what looked like some blankets bundled in the middle of the living room floor.

  Wait. He took shallow breaths, blinked tears away as he tried to see. Oh my God. That’s not blankets. That’s Jess. His heart clenched.

  Donnie fucking Mizener is dumping gas on Jess!

  Coming from behind the couch, Aiden rushed the guy. In three long strides, he was on him, arms around his waist, dragging him to the floor. The gas can went flying, liquid spraying from the pour spout.

  Donnie rolled, broke free, and scrambled away on hands and knees toward the back door. Oh hell, no you don’t. Aiden grabbed the guy’s ankle, dragging him back into the hell he’d created with the light of a match. The bastard kicked, landing one on his cheek. But Aiden shook it off—the rage consuming him numbing him to pain. They rolled, grappled, landed punches.

  The crack of a ceiling beam caught Aiden’s focus. The whole damn ceiling was about to fall in.

  Donnie wheeled around, something dark and metallic in his grip.

  Shit! He’s got a gun! Aiden dove to the floor.

  Pop! Pop! Pop!

  Aiden rolled, fully expecting to be hit. He moved behind the couch.

  Pop! Pop!

  Shit! How was he supposed to fight a guy with a gun? He crawled along the floor behind the couch.

  Pop! Pop!

  He rounded the end table. Risked a peek above. Hunched over, Donnie stalked to the rear of the couch, pistol in hand, aiming where Aiden had laid just seconds ago.

  Pop! Pop!

  Aiden gritted his teeth. Nowhere to go. Fire had already crept out into the living room, eating the sheetrock. The curtains at the window wisped away into smoke and ash. He had to do something and do it fast, before the ceiling fell in.

  The diamond-shaped lead crystal candy dish Kat had given him for Christmas two years ago sat on the table near him. The potpourri she’d poured into it still there. Yeah, she’d understand. Hell, she’d be the first to tell him to use it.

  In a single fluid movement, he grabbed the dish and flung it. As one sharp point caught D
onnie in the shoulder, causing him to stagger, Aiden sprang from the floor and dove over the couch.

  Pop!

  Something hot grazed Aiden’s ear. Ignoring the searing pain, he slammed into Donnie and they both crashed into the wall. The impact jarred every tooth in his head, and the room tilted. When he looked up, Donnie had his arm out, aiming.

  Click!

  Empty magazine or misfire, he didn’t care which. Aiden rushed him. The guy slung his arm out, intending to clothesline him, but Aiden ducked. When he stumbled, Aiden used the bastard’s momentum and gave him a hard shove in the back. Donnie tumbled to the floor.

  Part of the ceiling gave way. Ash and cinders rained down. Donnie’s surprised screams tore through the crackle and roar of the blaze. Fire licked at the man’s body, flames crawling up his arms, down his legs, eating the clothes right off his body. Consuming the flesh below. He screamed again and rolled.

  Heart fighting to pump blood through his system with the little oxygen his lungs could provide, Aiden dropped to his knees, coughing and choking. No. Not done, damn it. He forced himself to crawl across the floor to Jess. Please let her be alive. Please.

  At last he made it to her side. Draped across her chest lay a very limp Ptomaine. One leg lay at an odd angle, and blood crusted the cat’s nose and mouth. Beneath him, Jess lay very still. Too still.

  No. With his last vestige of strength, he scooped both woman and cat into his arms and staggered out the back door, off the porch, and into the cool grass. He set them both down just as another round of hacking and coughing took him. He wiped the spittle from his mouth, his arm coming away with black-stained mucus and spit. Not good. But he’d survive.

  He started CPR on her, but the smoke that had filled his chest robbed him of breath. The world spun, and he slouched to the side, his focus on her as he fought to suck clean air through his singed windpipes and into his clogged lungs. The short pants he managed left him lightheaded.