Firestorm (Missoula Smokejumpers Book 4)

by Piper Stone

  And so, she ran, pushing past everyone standing in her way. Screaming. They were screaming at her, chasing her. She had to leave. Tears rushed down her face as she struggled to get away, tripping, stumbling, every muscle aching. She continued fighting, shoving against everyone standing in her way.

  “Help me!” Had she issued the words?

  “Trinity!”

  The single word, the call. His voice. He was following her, trying to get to her. No! She wouldn’t allow this to happen. She couldn’t take from the man who she adored, who she loved. Love. God!

  Bolting out the door, she blinked away the burning tears as they stung her eyes. She was unable to see anything in front of her, but she kept running, racing to find solace in anything. Alone. Very much alone.

  “Trinity! Stop!”

  She refused to stop. No. No! “Get away from me. You can’t help me.” No one could help her. There was no one she could trust.

  “No. No! Trinity. Stop! Look out!”

  Chapter 10

  Riker stood in the doorway, his legs crossed, his heart racing. The adrenaline hadn’t stopped flowing since yanking Trinity out of the middle of the street a split second before being hit by a trucker. The poor driver had skidded in an effort to avoid her, crashing into the light in front of Ziggy’s. The entire scene had been chaotic, Trinity remaining hysterical for thirty minutes. Somehow, Shannon had been able to calm her down. Unfortunately, Trinity had been nearly catatonic ever since.

  He rubbed his tired eyes and tried to figure out what to say to her. The one thing he’d captured during her race to get out of the bar was that she was certain no one would believe her. In truth, he had no idea what to believe. The story was all over the news, told in different and jaded methods, but the information the same. The dark secret she’d been hiding involved murder.

  Exhaling, he walked outside with the drink in his hand. Finding the bottle of bourbon in the cabinet was perhaps the only thing keeping him from losing his shit. He was so out of his element. Easing down onto the deck, he wrapped his arms around his knees and stared at the moon, studying the way clouds were floating across the bright orb.

  She sat huddled in a blanket, a glass of wine in her hand. Her breathing remained scattered, as if her inner demons had control over her heart, perhaps her very soul.

  Riker knew what horrific guilt felt like, understood the mind-numbing aspect of fighting to even have the right to breathe or live. Whatever had occurred all those years ago continued to eat her alive. Reaching over, he took her hand into his. She was so damn cold. He squeezed her hand, praying she wouldn’t pull away. When she issued a single moan, he pulled her fingers to his lips, blowing across them in hopes of giving her a hint of comfort.

  Trinity brought her glass to her lips, gulping then swallowing, both sounds scattered, strangled.

  Now, he was angry. Why the hell had someone brought up her past now? What fucking monster was hell bent on destroying her life? “Do you trust me?” The words slipped out without planning, without any thought.

  She hesitated, but answered, the single word almost inaudible. “Yes.”

  “Then hear me when I say this. I’m not going anywhere and I’m not the kind of man to jump to conclusions, believing shit. Okay?”

  “But it’s not shit. Not exactly.”

  Her could hear the sobbing sounds racking her body, could feel her utter blinding despair. “Talk to me. What does that mean?”

  “You don’t…” Trinity choked. “You don’t want to know.”

  “Did you kill Susie Miller?”

  This time, she chuckled. “No. I had nothing to do with her death.”

  Riker hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath until she answered. “Then what happened and who is this fucker trying to destroy you?”

  She took several deep breaths before tipping her head, giving him a slight smile. “A reporter from Los Angeles that has been following me for almost three years. He’s not a bad guy, but—”

  “Not a bad guy?” he interrupted. “I could kill the motherfucker.” The moment she placed her hand on his arm, her fingers squeezing, he almost lost it, the adrenaline forcing his body to shake. “I could kill him.”

  “He’s just trying to make a living like everybody else.”

  “No excuses!” Hearing the ugliness in his voice, he groaned. “I’m sorry.”

  “You care about me.”

  He shifted, moving closer. “More than you know, lady. More than you know. Let me know the details. Talk to me so we can try and figure this out.”

  She swirled her wine glass and leaned her head against the railing. “I knew Jack was going to do this. He’s been threatening for a couple of months.”

  “Jack?”

  “Jack Spartan, reporter for TMZ. He’s basic paparazzi and has a reputation for being hard-nosed. I’m afraid getting this national piece has put him on the map. That’s what he really wanted in the first place and didn’t mind destroying my life to get it.”

  “You couldn’t stop him?”

  Sighing, she took a sip of wine before answering. “I pushed him off. My mistake was not to confront him or the story right away. I guess I thought it would go away, but he kept digging. Now, the various agencies, movie houses and directors won’t want to have anything to do with me.”

  “Because they think it’s the truth?” Riker growled under his breath.

  “They don’t care about the truth. It’s all about sensationalism. Morality clauses. You might not know much about Hollywood, but times are changing. If there’s even a hint of a scandal they race away, their tails between their legs. They can’t afford any hidden stories. Clout in movie town has dropped. So, I’m finished.”

  He breathed out and looked up at the sky. “What about the truth?”

  “The truth is still ugly, damning no matter what slant is placed on the sordid story.” Trinity laughed. “I don’t know what I was thinking when I allowed Ana, my cousin, to talk me into getting involved in the modeling scene. I ran away from home and thought the ugliness wouldn’t follow. When my agent wanted me to change my name, I thought, hey, that’s great. No one will dig into my past. I was wrong.”

  The wind had picked up and Riker knew a storm was coming. Or maybe the storm had already arrived. He eased his legs around hers, scooting even closer. “Can you tell me the real story?”

  “Riker, you’re a wonderful man and I adore your friends, but I’m not going to drag you into the middle of this. There’s no doubt that somebody from the bar has already called the press, let them know I’m here. My guess is that this beautiful town will be filled with reporters bright and early tomorrow.”

  “You don’t give this town or its people enough credit. My friends already consider you one of their own and will protect you. So, will Shannon and her friends and trust me. You don’t want to cross Shannon.” He allowed himself to laugh.

  “Why? Why would they care about someone they don’t know and a woman who lied to them?” Trinity’s voice held angst, her words stilted.

  “You aren’t just someone. You’re special and important to me. They know that. And what did you lie about?”

  She seemed to think about his words. “My entire life.”

  He intertwined their fingers and inched even closer until their lips were nearly touching. “We all have a lie we live, every one of us. Yours just happens to be more…”

  “Horrific?” she whispered.

  Kissing her lips, he refused to back away, making certain she could feel his heat, even his love. The word and concept were no longer startling.

  She pressed her hand against his chest. “You deserve the truth but let me get through this. Okay? It’s harder to think about than you know.”

  Nodding, he remained quiet, merely rubbing her fingers between his.

  “When I lived my life as Carrie Simmons, I was just a girl in college. I had no idea what I wanted to be, so I took business and writing courses at the local university. My parents l
ived paycheck to paycheck, so I had to pay my way. I did some local modeling and waited tables. I also had an amazing and encouraging professor. He was brilliant and an author. I admired and respected him. He knew I wanted to write books, so he took the extra time to give me ideas, thoughts about stories. We became close, spending time in local coffee shops. I wrote stories and he’d critique them.” She groaned and looked down.

  Riker leaned further in.

  “I knew he was married and he never tried anything. Not once. He was a perfect gentleman, so we continued meeting, coffee turning into wine and even a few dinners. I was so happy and even had a few stories that he and I thought good enough to send off to some publishers. I had no idea that he was falling in love with me. I cared for him deeply, but he was my mentor. I also had no idea that he was disturbed, his marriage on the rocks. There was no indication. None.”

  When the tears slipped down her cheeks, he used his thumb, wiping them away.

  “Anyway, one night after dinner, he took me home. I had car trouble and he simply offered me a lift. That’s when he professed his love for me. He said he was going to leave his wife and that he wanted me to consider being with him. I was floored, or I guess naïve enough not to see it coming. When I look back, of course, all the signs were there, but I guess I chose to look the other way.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I told him how much I cared about him but that we couldn’t see each other any longer. I didn’t want to be in the middle of the break-up of his marriage. I’m not that kind of girl, no matter what the tabloids say. He tried to kiss me and for maybe five seconds I let him. Then I pushed him away and couldn’t get out of his car fast enough.” She laughed and shook her head. “I was so stupid. I didn’t see him for a couple of days. He was supposedly sick, so I thought he was working on his marriage. Then…” Her entire body began to shake.

  Riker cupped her face. “He’s not here. You can do this. I’m right here to help you through it.”

  “I know you are. I know.” She took another gulp of wine, almost draining the glass. “When he returned, he was different. Quiet. I wanted to talk to him, but I was terrified he would think I wanted to be with him. He called a couple of times, but I never took his calls. About…” She sucked in her breath. “Maybe a week later, I heard the news that his wife was found dead. A friend of Susie’s went and found her at their house. He hadn’t called the police. He left her there to die. The bastard!” A choking sob pushed up from her throat.

  “Jesus Christ.”

  Nodding, she wiped the tears roughly and began to rock. “I don’t know all the details and I never learned them except that they’d had a fight and he pushed her down the stairs. The police thought I was involved because they found something that had dropped from my purse, a damn lipstick. In his car with my fingerprints. People at the restaurant put me there on the night they determined she’d died. I was questioned and released, but there were several weeks that the entire town thought I was a black widow.”

  “That’s why you left.”

  “One reason. Yes. When Ana offered me to stay at her place in California, I jumped at the chance. I just left my life behind.”

  Riker breathed out and had no idea how to comfort her. “What happened to David?”

  “He was convicted of second degree manslaughter and served time. He’s out now, or so I heard. He actually came to my house just before they arrested him and confessed what he’d done. I’d already heard, and I didn’t know what to do. It was ugly. He kept saying he did it for me. For me!” Dropping her head, she allowed the tears to flow.

  He held her, wrapping his arms around her as she broke down and every part of him wanted nothing more than to kill both the assholes. This was insane. “It’s okay, honey. You didn’t do anything wrong. He was a sick man who was infatuated with you.”

  “I know. I know. I do. Ana helped me realize that, but the nightmares never stopped. Never. I can see David’s face the day he came to see me. He was smiling, so happy as if he and I could be together. I think I was numb for years. When I started acting, I changed the way I looked and with the name being different, I just thought my past was the past.”

  “What if you told the truth? Seriously? What is anyone going to think?”

  “I’m not certain it will matter. The story has been twisted. There’s no turning back. I am the black widow stories are created from.” She laughed then cried, her sound guttural.

  So many thoughts and ideas shifted through his head, but right now, what she needed was comfort, his love. He pulled her into his arms, cradling her against his chest. “Then you can stay here in Missoula.”

  She sniffed and kneaded his shirt. “I think I’d like that. I don’t know. I just don’t know what to do.”

  “Take some time. That’s what you’re going to do. You’re in a good place where people care about you. Try and remember that.”

  “I do, and I will.”

  He rocked her, his chin on top of her head until he could sense she’d fallen asleep. As he pulled the blanket around her, making certain she was warm, he could see the first sign of lightning. For some reason, the blue hued light felt like a sign. Perhaps this was the beginning of a new life.

  For both of them.

  He watched her through the window, the way she played with her hair as she talked on the phone. She was completely unaware that he was watching, standing just outside her realm, her almost perfect world. Well, there was nothing perfect about what she’d done or was contemplating doing. She was a monster in his eyes and always would be.

  Crack!

  The sky lit up, creating a sizzle of electricity. He tipped his head, watching the way the clouds rushed across the waning moon. The storm would certainly cover up any sound, especially given she would no doubt be a hellion. Unlike the others, she was strong, a fighter. This was perhaps the best moment of his career, even his life. She had no idea what she was about to face and this time, he would allow himself to play.

  He waited, peering in through the windows every so often as she continued to pace, drinking her no doubt expensive wine, planning some frivolous party or catered event. That’s all she ever did, never thinking about anyone but herself.

  The fucking bitch.

  Boom!

  The roll of thunder gave him a series of shudders, the sensational feelings dragging throughout his body. He loved a good storm, the way the electricity kicked into high gear, a wonderful reminder of the best time in his life. Before everything had been taken away. He snorted and wiped sweat from his brow.

  As the first few drops of rain began to fall, he crouched over and moved quietly around to the back of her house. The door leading to the garage she never locked. The one leading to the house went into her laundry room, a perfect place to wait until he was ready. He crept along the side, double checking there was no one. The house next door had a dog and he heard a few yelps, but fortunately, no one turned on a light. If they did, they would be slaughtered.

  He turned the handle then hissed. The damn thing was locked. She fucking never locked it. What in the hell was she doing? His rage increased, boiling until he had trouble focusing. Think. You have to think. Did she know he was here? No, there was no way. He was too careful. Too cautious.

  This was just a minor setback. He dragged out his pick, sliding the metal end into the lock. For some reason, the damn flange wouldn’t move. Now, he was sweating. He sucked in his breath and tried again. What the fuck? Anger rushed into every cell until he was shaking. He jammed the pic further into the lock and heard a click, a snapping noise. Damn it!

  No matter. They would have no way of knowing who he was. He eased into the garage and panted, trying to catch his breath. You ain’t gonna lose it. Not here. Not now. He rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand, snorting until he was able to breathe normally. Pressing his ear to the door, he heard nothing. She wasn’t close by.

  Very slowly he turned the knob then patted his jacket. He had everything
he needed for a wonderful night. The moment he stepped foot inside, he became another man. Just as he was about to close the door, the earth began to rumble, only this time, the sound had nothing to do with the storm.

  Boom!

  No!

  Beep! Beep! Beep!

  Riker jerked awake, hearing his cell phone. The damn emergency system. “What the hell?” He peered down at Trinity, who was curled up over his legs. They’d both fallen asleep on the couch.

  Stirring, she opened her eyes, reaching up as if by instinct to rub his face. “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know. A call. Stay right here.” Easing around her, he grabbed his phone, dialing the number. “Smokejumper Riker Sheffield. What’s going on?”

  “We have an explosion and a fire at the Martin Industrial Plant. There are reports that the fire has spread to the surrounding forest.”

  “Shit. Firefighters?” He looked over at her, the way her face glistened in the single light.

  “Several engines are en route but have requested back up from the auxiliary smokejumping team.” The dispatcher was perfunctory, stating the facts.

  “I’m on it.” Riker shoved the phone into his back pocket and grabbed his jacket. “I don’t want to leave you, but I have to. I have a fire. I’ll come back. Okay?”

  Sliding off the couch, she moved toward him, standing on her tiptoes and kissing his cheek. “Yes, come back to me, cowboy. Thank you for caring about me.”

  “You’ll be all right?”

  Nodding, Trinity rubbed his cheek. “I’ll be fine.”

  Yanking her against his chest, he captured her mouth, allowing a moment of intense passion. When he eased back, he smiled. “I don’t know how long this will take. Okay? Don’t worry about me.”

  “I’ll try not to.”

  Riker grabbed his keys and headed out the door, jumping in the car and immediately dialing the captain. “Captain Phillips. What are we dealing with?”