by Chrys Fey
“What did Viper say he’d do?” Thorn asked.
Buck’s grin doubled. “Get even.” He met Beth’s watchful stare. “With you.”
Donovan’s trimmed fingernails cut into his palms as his fists tightened.
“Then he can come for me,” Beth growled, surprising Donovan. “The three of us took down Jackson’s men, neutralizing the most powerful criminals in the States. You and Viper are lowly in comparison. We’ll take down Viper, eliminating any little power you think you have. You’ll be nothing, and you’ll have nothing but time to think about how you failed. Again and again.” She rose, pushing back her chair.
Donovan recognized her exit and got to his feet. She knocked on the door. The guard outside opened the door, but Beth paused at the exit. “I hope you enjoy your incarceration.”
Marveling at his wife’s strength, Donovan followed her out of the room.
Thorn walked beside him. “We should’ve brought her last time,” Thorn mumbled.
No kidding.
In his truck, Donovan peeked at Beth in the passenger’s seat. Her display had reminded him of when she had tackled Buck before he could bash in Donovan’s skull with a sharp rock. Beth had always been tough, even when suffering through the aftermath of the tsunami and her kidnapping. No, especially then. But he hadn’t seen her at this caliber since before their wedding. Part of him was proud. And yet, he was concerned, too. He didn’t want to her to become reckless. That was his job, and hers was to keep him level-headed.
“What was that back there?” he asked.
Beth shrugged. “I was sending a message.” She paused. “If we can’t stop these criminals from coming after us, then we should welcome them. Maybe this time, they’ll fall into our trap.”
“And what would our trap be?”
“Us.”
At a red light, Donovan met her intense expression. He didn’t have a good feeling about that look on her face. Or her tone. Or her statement. Us.
“Once Viper comes, Thorn can do his thing,” she said.
“So, you want us to be bait again?”
They were bait before, and he had been rewarded with a bullet. Sure, he had been wearing a Kevlar vest, but it still hurt like hell. He didn’t want to relive that. And he didn’t want this time to turn out worse.
“Well, we’re so good at it.” she said.
“That’s not a good thing.”
“But if it works…”
Donovan sighed. He was as fed up as she was at being targeted by criminals. More than anything, he wanted this to end, but they needed to be smart. “If Viper comes to our property now, we’ll know it.”
“And when he does, what do we do then?” she asked.
There were only two things they could do in that situation, what anyone would do during a home invasion, and it was what she trained people to do.
“We call Thorn,” he said. “And then we defend ourselves.”
****
Beth was thankful when her stomach behaved itself during the next few days. Whatever had plagued her was gone, which was good. She needed all her strength to beat Viper and whoever he had behind him. She had Donovan, Thorn, and the entire Orlando Police Department on her side. She liked her odds.
When she told Donovan she wanted a gun, he backed her up. Years before, she had gotten her gun license but had never purchased one, so they went to a gun shop recommended by Thorn. They handled a few guns and bought one each. Afterward, they headed to the gun cages to test out their new pieces.
Donovan stood in the booth next to her, wearing protective eyeglasses and earmuffs. “Do you want to make this interesting?”
She arched a brow beneath her own protective eyewear. “How so?”
“The person with the best shots picks dinner, and the loser buys?”
“I like that bet. You’re on.” She picked up her gun, placed her left hand under her right, took her stance, and aimed at her target. She took a deep breath, let it out, and squeezed the trigger. The pop and slight kick-back surprised her. It had been a long time since she had shot a gun, but she realized it was like riding a bike. It didn’t take much to get back into the groove of comfortably popping bullets. She released another. As she set free the other bullets in the magazine, she counted them. Each one she imagined sinking into Viper’s chest. When she had one bullet left, she elevated the gun, adjusted her aim, and let it fly.
Feeling good about her shots, she turned the level to bring her target forth. She pulled it down and examined it. All the shots were clustered in the center, but the last one had hit the target smack dab in the middle of its forehead. She stepped back to show it to Donovan. He held up his at the same time.
She pursed her lips. “I think I won.”
“No way,” Donovan objected.
“Yes, way. Most of yours are in the center like mine, but what’s this?” She pointed to a hole a couple of inches off the mark. “A lung shot?”
“That was my first shot. I had to make adjustments.”
She rolled her eyes. “I still won.”
Not wanting to accept defeat, Donovan said, “Let’s ask a pro.”
Beth waved her hand, inviting him to lead the way. Donovan took her target and asked the man at the counter which one had the best kill shots. The man studied the targets and pointed. “This one.”
Beth grinned. “I want sushi.”
****
On Saturday, Beth and Donovan loaded the back of Donovan’s truck with all the donations that had accumulated at The Fighting Chance for Lori’s family. Four large garbage bags were filled to the top with clothing, bedding, and children’s toys. Six boxes were packed with non-perishable food items, drinks, and books. A manila envelope in Beth’s purse contained the money donations that had been collected inside a giant cheese puff snack container. Along with the bills and checks was a card. All her students signed it, wishing Lori and her family well and telling her how much she was missed in class.
With a tarp secured over the goods, they drove to Lori’s sister’s house in Merritt Island. Beth was brimming with excitement. She couldn’t wait to present the truck-load of gifts to her long-time student and friend.
The feminine voice from Beth’s phone told them to make a right. They soon found themselves in front of a single-story three-bedroom house. No toys littered the front yard, as they usually did at Lori’s house where a basketball could always be found in the ditch and bicycles lay in the grass next to the driveway. A pang struck Beth in the middle of her heart. She climbed out of the truck and walked to the door as Donovan removed the tarp off the truck’s bed. She rang the doorbell and waited. After a moment, Lori opened the door with her two kids surrounding her.
“Beth!” The kid’s jumped up and down when they saw her.
“Beth.” Lori looked surprised. “What are you doing here?”
“Special delivery,” she said with a smile. “Come on. I have something to show you.”
Lori stepped outside. Sophie and Glenn followed their mom.
“This is for you and your family, from everyone at The Fighting Chance,” Beth said with a sweep of her hand at the truck’s bed.
Lori stared at the bags and boxes with her mouth open.
“There’s food, clothing, other necessities, and…” She looked at Sophie and Glenn. “Toys.”
The T word had Sophie squealing in delight and Glenn jumping up and down chanting, “Yes.”
Donovan lowered the tailgate and helped Sophie and Glenn up so they could raid the bags. He pointed to one of the bags with a wink. They dove at it and ripped it open. Sophie dug through the contents and pulled out a Barbie doll and then another and another. She piled them in her arms. “Look, Mom.” She had a family of ten Barbies cradled in her arms, all different colors with varying hair styles.
Beth looked at her friend. Tears were streaming down Lori’s cheeks. She reached out and rubbed Lori’s arm. “Are you okay?”
Lori nodded. “Seeing them smile like that…” Her
voice caught. “You did this for us?”
“Everyone pitched in.” Beth shifted her purse and pulled out the manila envelope. “There’s also this.”
With shaking hands, Lori opened it. Her breath caught when she saw the contents. “Oh my.” She hugged the envelope to her chest.
“I didn’t count it, but I’m sure there’s more than enough for a security deposit on a house and the first month’s rent. When you move into a new place, Donovan and I have a few furniture pieces in storage you can have, such as his bachelor couch, a dinner table, and a coffee table. We’ll haul them over on moving day.”
Lori gawked at her. “I don’t know what to say.”
Donovan hopped down from the truck where he was helping the kids rummage for the best toys. Glenn now had gigantic Hulk mitts on his hands and was banging them together with glee. Donovan put a hand on Lori’s shoulder. “You don’t have to say anything. We’re glad to help.”
“Thank you.” Lori threw her arms around them. “Thank you both!”
****
Sophie and Glenn played with a few of their new toys in the living room as the adults moved the boxes and bags into the garage. Lori stood in awe while staring at the loot taking up an entire corner of the garage.
“You’re going to have a lot of fun going through all of this with your family,” Beth said.
“I just can’t believe it,” Lori whispered.
“Believe it,” Donovan said gently. “It’s all yours.”
“Enjoy it,” Beth added.
They left to the sound of kids playing excitedly and Lori crying on the phone, telling her husband what had happened.
In the truck, Donovan couldn’t help but smile as they drove away. After his accident, the knife found on the porch, and discovering Viper was the cause for all of it, it was nice to experience some joy, and to be the one bringing that happiness to someone else was a great feeling. He’ll remember the sparkle in Sophie’s and Glenn’s eyes when they pulled out the toys, and the shock on Lori’s face when she saw the money, for years to come.
“That was amazing,” Donovan said.
Beth squeezed his arm. “I know. It makes me wish we could do the same thing for all of the other families who lost their homes.”
“Well, maybe we could. I heard on the news a fund was started. People from across the nation have been donating to it. We could use our professional avenues to raise awareness to bring in more donations to the fund.”
“That’s a great idea. Corissa and Amanda could help me make phone calls to my work acquaintances and past students.”
“And I’ll talk to my truck pals and everyone I know in the industry.”
Beth tapped her legs in an excited beat. “We should be able to raise a sizeable donation.” She fell silent a moment. “I always wished we could’ve done more for Oahu after the tsunami.”
“Me, too.”
Donovan followed the road back home. When they rounded a curve, changing their direction, a deep brown plume of smoke appeared in the distance, exactly where they were headed. He swallowed hard. The sight sent shivers racing down his spine. An icy hand gripped his throat. That smoke looked far more menacing than any of the smoking towers that had dominated the sky for weeks. He pushed down this irrational fear and continued to drive.
Beside him, Beth had fallen silent.
They were miles from home, but the closer they got, the closer and darker the smoke plume became. It stretched across the sky, carried by the wind, like a leaping lion.
Donovan stared at it, and he knew their current nightmare was happening.
“Beth, it looks like it’s right next to our house.”
Chapter Fifteen
Beth’s heart clenched at the sight of the smoke stacks, as if a fist had driven through her chest and was squeezing the meaty human drum, paralyzing it. She gripped the door handle. The faster Donovan drove and the closer they got to home, to those tiers of billowing, dark smoke, the more anxious she became. Donovan’s words replayed in her head.
It looks like it’s right next to our house.
Her heart woke from its coma and punched her ribcage like a boxer attacking a speed bag. Perspiration dampened her underarms and slicked her palms. Please, God, no. I can’t lose my home again.
The smoke stack was soon right in front of them, right where their home was located. Donovan turned down their street, and the tower of smoke loomed above them. Fire consumed the empty lot next to their house. Flames ate their way up the bark spines of pine trees. Orange flickers slithered along the length of the branches, reaching toward the roof. The fire was descending upon their forever home as a raiding army would race toward a city with swords drawn.
Donovan floored it down the street and brought the truck to a jerking stop in the driveway. He jumped out of the truck without taking the key out of the ignition. Beth shoved the door open and stumbled out onto the driveway.
“Call the fire department, pack some clothes. I’m getting the hose.” Donovan raced toward the fire and slipped around the side of the house.
Beth dug her keys out of her purse and ran to the door. Her hand shook as she unlocked it. The heat of the fire beat against her. The rancid smell of burning nature clogged her nostrils. After two failed attempts, she grasped the key with both hands and managed to get it into the hole. She threw the door open, not even bothering to shut it again, and let the smoke roll in after her as she dashed up the stairs. In her bedroom, she grabbed the portable landline headset and jabbed 9-1-1. While she waited for the operator to answer, she hurried to the closet. She yanked down two duffle bags from the top shelf. They fell to the ground. Out the window, she could see red, orange, and yellow flickering sparks drifting in the breeze.
“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”
“There’s a fire right next to my house,” Beth panted as she rattled off their address.
“We’ve received calls about it. Firetrucks were dispatched. They should be there soon.”
“Hurry,” Beth told her. “Tell them to hurry.” The fire was nearly at their doorstep. If they took too long, there wouldn’t be a house left to save. Their entire neighborhood would be gone.
“Try to stay calm, ma’am. Help is on the way.”
Beth hung up and dropped the phone on the carpet. She ripped clothes of the hangers and tossed them into the duffle bags. Now was not the time to worry about wrinkles. If they lost everything, at least they’d have clothing, wrinkled or not. She shoved in the contents from their drawers—underwear and socks—until she could barely zip the bags shut.
Donovan stood at the edge of their property, spraying the flames burning the pine trees and creeping along the grass, when she ran back outside to her car. The trunk was blanketed with soft dove-gray ashes. When she opened it, they slid back and fell through the crack into the trunk. She hefted the duffle bags inside and dashed back into the house. In a large white garbage bag, she stuffed in their bed comforter and two pillows. Then she snatched a backpack from the closet. Before she left the closet, she grabbed one last thing that hung at the very back—her wedding dress. She wasn’t an overly sentimental woman, but she didn’t want her dress to become ashes. After depositing the garment bag with the bedding, she hurried to the filing cabinet that contained all their important papers and family photos. She tucked the folders into the backpack.
Outside, she found Donovan had brought out their ladder. She craned her neck to look for him and found him standing on the roof, near the edge, attacking the fire with their garden hose.
Adding the garment bag, bedding, and backpack to the trunk, she slammed it shut and went back into the house. In the kitchen, she unplugged their expensive coffee maker and the world’s best blender, according to her anyway. Cradling the appliances, one in each arm, she rushed back to the front door. On her way out, she saw the one item she treasured the most inside the house. She quickly set the coffee maker and blender on the floor behind the driver’s seat and ran back into the house on
e last time. From above the mantelpiece, she brought down the artwork of a Florida beach her mother had painted. The same painting had survived Hurricane Sabrina. It would also survive this fire.
Once the painting was safely in the backseat, she shouted up to Donovan, “I got what I could think of. I want to help you.”
“Good. Drain the pool.”
With a nod, she sprinted to the backyard to their above-ground pool. They had bought it to cool down during the summer until they could start the process of putting in an in-ground, screened-in pool. The pool was close to where the fire was spreading, which meant the water would wet the grass and help slow the progress.
She pushed down on the inflated ring. Water flowed over her hands and splashed against her sneakers. At the rate the water was moving, the pool would take too long to drain. She pushed down harder. Suddenly, the plastic wall caved in and water gushed forth, like an ocean wave, and crashed into Beth. The force of it knocked her off her feet. Chlorine water washed over her head and shoved down her shoulders. A mouthful of the disgusting water flowed down her throat. The water sent her rolling over the grass as if she were a foam noodle. She fought against it and managed to stop the momentum at the edge of their property. Her feet were inches from flames. She scooted away even as water continued to push at her back. Water moved around her, past her, and doused the flames with a hiss.
She got to her feet, gasping and dripping from head to toe. Turning back to the pool, she saw there was only a foot of water remaining.
“Are you okay?”
She looked up. Donovan stood at the edge of the roof, still spraying the fire, but his head was turned to her. “I’m fine,” she shouted.
Donovan nodded before turning back to his task. She resumed her job of draining the pool. After she released the rubber cap, holding the air inside the inflated ring, she stepped on it to let the last of the water free. She worked her way around the pool to soak all the ground she could. When less than an inch remained, she paused, with her heart pounding, to look at the fire. It was a wall forging toward them. Past the brush surrounding their house, flames had completely engulfed the trees. They stood like fiery giants.
