Men on Fire [Men for Hire: Firemen 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Jane Jamison

  “Michelle, tell us who it is.” Wiley wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and comfort her, but he couldn’t. His job and the safety of others came first.

  Tears streamed down her face. “I thought I’d stopped him. It won’t do any good to put someone his age behind bars. He needs professional therapy and he’s getting it.”

  Wiley wished he could promise her that the boy would get the help he needed, that he would stay out of juvenile detention, but he couldn’t make a promise he couldn’t keep. “We’ll do everything we can to help him, but you have to tell us who it is first.”

  She let out a sob and fell against him. He thought he could hear her heart breaking. She loved the boys of Hope House and would do anything for them, but her desire to help one of them may have cost a man his life.

  “It’s Curt.”

  * * * *

  Thirty minutes later, she still had trouble believing it. Curt had set another fire. Although he’d kept his word and seen the therapist she’d recommended, he hadn’t kept his promise to stop torching houses. He’d made her an accomplice yet again. Worse, he’d caught a poor man in the middle of it and sent him to the hospital.

  She waited at the nurses’ station until Wiley and Brody finished talking with a couple of firefighters who had been at the fire. Judging from their looks as they strode toward her, she prepared to hear the worst.

  “Is he still alive?”

  Brody took her arm and led her away from other people who might overhear them. “Yeah. It’s not as bad as it could’ve been. He suffered smoke inhalation and a burn on his arm. He got off lucky and was able to get out.”

  “Curt’s the one who got off lucky,” added Wiley. “Where is he anyway? At Hope House?”

  “Yes.” She was finished hiding anything from them. If she’d told them the truth from the beginning, she could’ve prevented the fire and a man’s injury.

  “Then that’s where we’re headed.” Wiley straightened up as a distinguished older man dressed in a firefighter’s T-shirt like theirs came toward them. “Hey, Cap.”

  “You two boys heard, huh? Looks like our fire bug is back at it.” The big man’s dark gaze settled on her, unnerving her. He struck out his hand. “I’m Captain Burt Wheeler, miss.”

  She took his hand, shook it as fast as she could, then pulled away. Could he see how guilty she was?

  “This a friend of ours, Cap. Michelle Rossin, this is the man in charge at the station.”

  “It’s nice to meet you.” She couldn’t bring herself to hold his gaze.

  “So you’re hanging around with these two lugs, huh?”

  She smiled, realizing he was joking and knowing a smile was the correct response. Inside, she found it hard to keep from bolting. “They’ve been very helpful around Hope House.”

  “I heard they were doing their part to help the kids out. That’s a good thing. It’ll keep the boys and these two out of trouble.”

  She smiled again and wished the floor would swallow her up. If she didn’t get away from him soon, she’d blurt out the entire truth.

  “Do you two have any ideas about who’s setting the fires?”

  Her stomach dropped. Please. No. And yet, she steeled herself, ready for them to say it was Curt. And to tell him about her involvement.

  “Not yet, Cap. We’re working on it.”

  She jerked her head up and gaped at Wiley. She would’ve still been gaping at him moments later if Brody hadn’t flattened his hand against her butt cheek and startled her into awareness of what she was doing.

  “Work faster.” Cap gave her a quick nod. “It was nice meeting you, Miss Rossin.” He pivoted on his heel and strode back to the other firefighters.

  Leaning against Wiley, she gave them each a look of wonderment. “Why didn’t you tell him?”

  Judging from Wiley’s expression, he wasn’t sure. “Let’s get to Hope House and pick Curt up. He’s going to have to answer for what he’s done, but I figured it would come easier if we took him in instead of having the police haul his ass to jail.”

  “Then we’d better get over there before he does anything else.” Brody took her hand and headed toward the elevator.

  She stepped into the car, then turned around and saw Cap and the other firefighters watching them. Her gaze met Cap’s and what she saw in his eyes threw her.

  Oh, God. He knows.

  * * * *

  She hurried out of the elevator, and as soon as they were outside, she whirled around and clutched Brody’s arm. “Did you see the way your captain looked at me? I swear he knows.”

  Panic filled her as she remembered the knowing glint in his dark eyes. She’d tried to keep Curt out of trouble, had done what she thought was best, but it was all coming down on top of her.

  “Take it easy, Michelle. He doesn’t know anything. That’s the way he looks at everyone. Trust me, if he knew, you wouldn’t have made it into the elevator.”

  “Unless, of course, he’s trusting us to fix things.” Wiley shrugged and kept walking toward their car. “As part of the Firemen for Hire team, we get more leeway than the others. And more discretion. If he knows anything, then he’s giving us time to sort it out.”

  She dragged in longer, deeper breaths. If she couldn’t trust them, she couldn’t trust anyone. “Okay. That’s good to hear. So are we headed to Hope House?”

  “That’s the plan. We’re going to get hold of Curt and make him fess up once and for all.”

  She couldn’t help but scoff at Brody. “Don’t count on it.”

  “If he doesn’t, then we’re calling the police.” Brody helped her into the seat between them.

  She couldn’t help but feel like a failure. She’d failed to keep Curt out of trouble and failed her men by keeping her involvement a secret. Although she prayed that Curt would get the help he needed instead of jail time, she was ready to take any punishment the courts deemed fit.

  Wiley took her hand and squeezed. “Don’t give up hope just yet. We’ll do our best to keep you out of it, even if it means calling in a favor or two.”

  “I don’t want to get either of you into trouble. I deserve punishment, and I’m willing to take it.” Her thoughts flitted back to her apartment and the “punishment” she’d received for talking back to them. If only they could punish her instead of the law.

  Her phone vibrated in her back pocket and she fished it out. The ID told her it was Elbert calling. Clearing her throat, she tried to make her tone sound casual. “Hey, Elbert.”

  “Michelle, Curt’s run off.”

  There was no way she could keep the stress out of her voice.

  “Why? Where?”

  “I don’t know where and I don’t know why. The other boys said he was in the rec room watching television with the rest of them when the news came on. Then, all of a sudden, he yelled something about not meaning to hurt anyone and ran out of the room. Several of the staff tried to stop him, but they couldn’t. He flew out of there like the devil himself was on his heels.”

  She could guess why. The newscast had probably reported the story about the fire and the homeless man getting caught in it. “I think I might know where he is.”

  “You do? Where is he? I’ll get right over there.”

  “I can’t say right now, Elbert. Please let me handle it. I’m with Brody and Wiley. I’ll check out my hunch and give you a call back as soon as I can. Until then, let me know if he shows up.”

  “Will do. I’ll call the police and get them searching for him, too.”

  She wanted to tell him not to, but she couldn’t. It was time to stop trying to protect Curt. “Okay.”

  “And Michelle?”

  “Yeah?”

  “He was more upset than anyone’s ever seen him. Who knows what he might do in the state he’s in. Be careful.”

  “I will. Thanks.” She hung up the call. “Curt heard about the man he injured and ran off. We need to get to the housing edition.”

  “Did he say some
thing to make you think he’s headed there?” Wiley did a quick U-turn and headed the car down the street in the opposite direction.

  “No. It’s just a hunch. But I don’t know anywhere else to look for him.”

  “Let’s hope your hunch is right.”

  She hung onto her phone as they sped down the roads toward the housing edition.

  Ring, damn it. Tell me that he came back. Or that someone found him. Even the cops.

  But her phone remained silent.

  In the next minute, she knew her instinct was dead-on and cursed herself for being right. Smoke billowed from one of the windows of another abandoned house.

  Wiley pulled to the curb and was out of the car and running to the home before she could get to the passenger side door. She pushed open the door that Brody had slammed behind him, then found him blocking her way.

  “You’re not going anywhere.” He held his phone to his ear even as he held on to her arm. “Yeah. This is Brody. We’ve got another house fire in the Willa Edition. Yeah, same neighborhood near Fifth and Elm. On Booker Street. Get the engine rolling.”

  “Turn me loose, damn it.”

  “Not on your life.” He shoved his phone into his pocket, then picked her up under the arms and flung her back into the car. “You’re staying put, you got that?”

  She knew it was useless to argue. But she knew how to get around it, too. Moving as fast as she could, she scrambled to the driver’s side, flung open the door, and burst out of the car. Brody was hot on her heels, but she managed to storm up the house’s steps and through the front door before he could catch her.

  Wiley glanced over his shoulder once, his arm covering his face, and narrowed his eyes at her. But the fire before him wouldn’t let him follow her as she dashed up the steps.

  “Michelle, damn it. Stop.”

  She ignored Brody’s bellows from outside and kept going. Smoke snaked up the stairs, following her like monster, but she didn’t slow down. Coming to a stop at the top of the steps, she glanced down to see Brody burst into the foyer, then swing his gaze around the small area, searching for her. Thinking he’d follow her, she ran down the hallway, past two other doors that were closed. Of the three doors upstairs, only one was ajar. She darted for the door, pushed it wide open, then skidded to a stop.

  Curt sat curled against the wall and another door she assumed led into a closet or an adjoining bathroom. A gas can rested at his side as he flipped a lighter, the flame dancing to life, then going out.

  “Curt?”

  He jerked his gaze up, and stared at her. Yet it was almost as though he was seeing through her.

  “Curt, it’s okay. Come downstairs with me. We have to leave before the fire spreads.” She moved slowly, deliberately toward him.

  “Stop.” He lifted the lighter and held it close to his hair.

  She inhaled, sharply aware that smoke was beginning to sift into the room. But her fear came from the sight of his hair. At first she’d thought he’d gotten wet or had sweated a lot running to the house. But now she realized what it really was. He’d doused himself with gasoline.

  “Curt, please. You can’t do that.”

  The agony in his eyes drove into her, letting her share in his pain. “Is he dead?”

  He’d heard, all right, about the homeless man caught in his last blaze. “No. And he’s not going to die, either. He has a few burns, but it’s nothing that will kill him.” She took another step and wanted to move more, but he wasn’t having it.

  “Don’t come any closer.” The tiny flame wavered too close to his hair. “I’ll do it. I swear it.”

  “He’s going to be fine. I promise.” She heard the sirens of the approaching fire engine. Help was coming, but would it reach them in time? Where were Brody and Wiley?

  The tears came then, streaming down his cheeks to drip off his chin. “I never meant to hurt anyone. That’s why I chose houses that were empty.”

  “I know, honey. I know.” She got down on one knee, hoping to seem less threatening. Coughing, she turned around to see that the smoke was getting thicker. “Please, Curt. We have to go.”

  He ignored her outstretched hand. “Then go. I’m staying.”

  “But why?”

  The torment inside him was excruciating to watch. He’d started coughing harder and with each new cough, his arm shook bringing the lighter perilously near his gas-soaked hair.

  “They were right. I don’t deserve to live.” He sobbed, then wiped his snotty nose with the back of his arm.

  “Who was right? Your parents? Your foster family?”

  “They all were. They said I was worthless and they were right.”

  “They were full of shit.”

  He blinked, surprised by her cursing. She’d never been anything but professional around him, never uttering a bad word. A soft smile tipped the corners of his mouth, ebbing the flow of tears at least for a moment.

  “You’re not worthless, Curt. They were. Can’t you see that? Please, come with me before we get trapped in this house.”

  The sounds of men shouting, as well as the roar of the fire engine pulling next to the curb, drifted through the open window. She could hear movement downstairs and prayed they’d contain the fire before it reached the upstairs.

  “You go, Miss Michelle. You were the only one that was ever nice to me. I don’t want you to get hurt, but I don’t want to live anymore.”

  “That’s a load of crap, kid, and you know it.”

  She twisted around to see Brody’s huge body blocking the door. Relief flooded her as he strode over and took his place by her side.

  “Stop. I’ll do it. I’ll set myself on fire. I don’t deserve to live.”

  Brody stood behind her as she kept her kneeling position. “Now why the hell would you do that to her?”

  “What? No, I’ll set me on fire. Not her.”

  “I heard you the first time. But don’t you get it? You make a human torch out of your body and she’s the one who lives with the memory.” He paused, then shrugged. “You know what? Go ahead. Light yourself up, kid. If you don’t have the brains to see how much this lady cares for you, then maybe you’re right. Maybe you do deserve to die.”

  “Brody!”

  “No, Michelle. Think about it. You’ve done everything you can for him. Wiley and I thought we made friends with him, too. Hell, we got to thinking of him as kind of a little brother. But if he’s that big an idiot that he can’t see all of us trying to help him, then maybe he needs to put himself and us out of our misery.”

  Curt’s anger scrunched up his face as he glared at Brody. “Shut up! You don’t know shit! No one cares.”

  “Again, kid, I’m calling you on that bullshit. Look at her. Go on. Look at her.”

  Curt’s glittering eyes found hers.

  “Can’t you see how much she cares? She came rushing into a burning house for you. Who does that except for someone they care for?”

  She couldn’t tell if Brody’s words were having any effect on Curt. Her pulse pounded in her ears and it grew increasingly harder to drag in a breath. The smoke wasn’t getting any denser so she had hope that the firefighters were doing their job and putting out the fire beneath them.

  “Please, Curt, put the lighter down.”

  If he sets himself on fire, I’ll never forgive myself.

  * * * *

  Wiley slapped Tomas on the shoulder. “You’ve got this under control, right?”

  Their fellow firefighters had shown up and gotten to work on the fire that had consumed the kitchen of the abandoned house. They’d swept through the rest of the house, searching for Brody, Michelle, and Curt, and making sure that another fire hadn’t been started in a different location. Once one of them had found the three of them in the upstairs bedroom and seen the tense situation they were in, he’d hurried back downstairs to tell Wiley.

  “Keep everyone downstairs.”

  “Yeah. Sure thing, man. Now go.”

  Wiley didn’t need
any more assurances than that. Although he knew Brody wouldn’t let anything happen to either Michelle or Curt, he couldn’t wait to help as much as he could. He lugged an extinguisher along with him. Just in case. But God, how he hoped he wouldn’t need it.

  He eased into the bedroom where Curt sat on the floor with Brody and Michelle doing their best to talk him into giving up. “Hey, everyone. How’s it going?”

  Brody didn’t bother turning around, but Michelle gave him a weak smile, then faced Curt again. He came to Brody’s side and caught his brother’s quick glance at the fire extinguisher.

  “We’re trying to convince Curt to put the lighter down and walk out of here.”

  “That’s right, Curt. The fire’s taken care of. All that’s left is to help you.”

  “Go away.”

  Brody gave a slight shake of his head. “The kid’s not listening.”

  Wiley set the extinguisher down, next to Brody’s heel. “Come on, kid, don’t make this harder than it is. We both know you’re not going to do it.” He took a step toward the distraught boy.

  “Back off! I’ll do it. I swear I will.” Curt flicked the lighter on again. It flamed, then went out.

  “No, you won’t. Do you know why?” Wiley pointed at the carpet. “You set yourself on fire and that cheap carpet goes up like kindling on a bonfire. And when it does, Miss Michelle isn’t going to be able to get away fast enough. Are you willing to take her along with you?”

  Curt studied the carpet, frowned, then scowled at Wiley. “That’s bullshit.”

  “I’m a firefighter. I know what I’m talking about.” Wiley took another step forward. “Or is that it? Do you want to punish her?”

  “Punish her for what? You’re fucked up, man.”

  “You want to punish her for caring about you. Is that it? Because that’s what’s going to happen if you do this.” He’d struck a nerve. He could see it in the boy’s eyes.

  “Make her leave now.” And yet Curt dropped his arm a bit.

  “I’m not going anywhere without you.” Michelle reached out her hand. “Give me the lighter.”