Flaming Crimes

by Chrys Fey

  “Close your eyes,” she whispered to him and pressed her lips one at a time to his eyelids.

  When she eased back, his eyelids didn’t so much as flutter. Smiling, she continued to soothe him.

  Her fingertips brushed back and forth along his forehead, from temple to temple. Her heart ached for him. He was so dedicated to protecting her that he exhausted himself. And he didn’t care that he did.

  As he slept, his features were lax. Seeing his face calm, without a drop of worry or anger, made her want to kiss him all over his face, but she didn’t want to wake him. He looked so peaceful it tugged her heart strings into knots. Her love for him swelled in her chest.

  Her fingers brushed his hair to the side. She didn’t always get to comfort him like this and being able to do it now made her happy. The last time she had indulged in caring for him was when he had broken ribs in San Francisco. He had admitted to her then that he despised having to own up to his pain and weaknesses. After being with him for two and a half years, she knew when he was pushing the limits. Although, he hated being cared for as if he were a child, she enjoyed providing it. Seeing his vulnerabilities brought out her motherly instincts.

  She stroked his forehead with her fingers. How she longed to touch him with her lips, but she restrained herself. Her own eyelids started to lower. The hand holding up her head lost its strength, and her head fell onto her arm. Her other arm became heavy. Her fingers traced lines down his cheek and neck before her palm settled on his chest. Sleep pulled her quickly into the sweet, serene darkness of unconsciousness.

  ****

  Sometime later, a loud breath made her eyelids peel apart. Donovan’s chest fell as he exhaled. She looked at his face. He was in a deep sleep. Her gaze shifted to the window. Thorn still sat there. His back leaned against the chair, and his eyes were pinned on the tiny gap between the blinds and the windowpane. He had been sitting there for hours. His butt had to be numb by now, his neck aching, his eyes tired. She carefully lifted her hand off Donovan’s chest and slowly slipped away from his warm body. She rose off the bed and took cautious steps, not wanting to wake Donovan. At Thorn’s side, she put a hand on his shoulder. “You should be allowed to catch a couple of winks.”

  He shook his head marginally. “This is my job.”

  She stepped behind him to see through the crack. Light posts lit the parking lot. She could see a few cars parked out front and knew one of them across the way was a cop car. Nothing moved. The wind wasn’t blowing so much as a candy wrapper. No one was out there.

  “It looks quiet,” she said.

  “It always looks that way…until something happens.”

  She nodded. He was right. When something was about to go down, it was always uncharacteristically quiet. “Would you like some coffee to keep you awake? I saw a few packets of coffee in the kitchen.”

  He reached up and lay his hand over hers. “That would be nice.”

  She tiptoed past the bed. In the kitchen, she filled the coffee maker and emptied the ground contents of a package into a filter. Hoping the gurgling of the machine wouldn’t wake Donovan, she flipped the switch. While waiting for the coffee to brew, she leaned against the counter. Arms and ankles crossed, the noise of the machine lured her into a partial sleep, although her eyes were open. When the grumbles stopped, she roused from her state and poured coffee into a Styrofoam cup. She snapped a plastic lid on top and took it to Thorn. Passing the bed, she was relieved to see Donovan was still knocked out.

  “Here.” She handed Thorn the cup.

  Thorn took it. “Thanks, Beth.”

  “No problem.” It was the least she could do. Wanting to keep Thorn a little company, she went back into the kitchen for a chair, which she set next to Thorn’s. She sat down. “Have you seen anything interesting?”

  “Well, I saw a hooker leave a room a few doors down. She was counting some bills as she left. Then a drug deal went down by the stop sign.”

  Beth blinked. “And the cops posted out there just let both slide?”

  “They have their orders.” He took a gulp of coffee.

  Beth bit her lip. “Of course.” She caught a glint of silver as Thorn lowered the cup. It was the band he habitually wore on his right ring finger. “Since Donovan’s asleep, I’m going to use this opportunity to get to know you more.”

  “Say that any louder, and Donovan will wake up to beat my ass.” He smirked as he took another sip of the hot brew.

  Beth nudged his arm. “I mean talk to you. There’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you for a long time.” She paused. “When I was in the hospital in Oahu, I saw your ring.” The moment she said those words, she noticed his thumb start to rotate the band. “For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve worn it, but I know you’re not married. And, as far as I know, you never were. So, what does the ring symbolize?”

  Thorn took the top off the cup and drained the rest of the coffee. He lowered it and looked out the window. After a tense moment of silence, he finally spoke. “It was my dad’s. He died when I was fifteen. My mom gave it to me, but I thought it was weird to wear my father’s wedding band, especially since she still wore hers, so I kept it in a drawer. When I joined the force, I put it on. He had been a detective, too, and was shot on the job. I wanted to feel close to him, as if he was there with me through training and on my side on the job, keeping me safe, keeping me smart. I’ve kept it on ever since.”

  Beth swallowed. She had no idea he had lost his father. What sort of friend was she? “That’s a great way to honor him.”

  “My father was a good man. He was a fierce protector of the people he loved. He always told me that if I protected my loved ones like a guard dog, I’d never feel guilty.” For the first time, he met her gaze. “That’s what I try to do, because I don’t want to feel guilty if something happened to you. Or to Donovan.”

  He looked away, and Beth smiled. “You’re a great friend, Thorn. The best brother from another mother a girl could have.”

  Thorn laughed softly. “Thanks.”

  “I mean it. I probably wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.” When Jackson Storm’s men had taken her hostage, she had called Thorn, and he had travelled from Florida to Oahu to save her. He had managed to get a SWAT team to help him charge the building where she had been held, and they found her, half-dead, in a janitor’s closet. Without him, Donovan would never have known she was alive after the tsunami. Without him, she would’ve perished while waiting for a miracle.

  Thorn squeezed her knee, but he didn’t say anything.

  She decided to change the subject. “Does the ring prevent women from hitting on you while you’re on the job?”

  On the side of his mouth, Thorn’s dimple winked at her. “Not always. Some of the drunk ones wouldn’t be able to see it if I held it up to their faces. You’d be surprised how often I’m hit on while making an arrest.”

  Beth gave a breathy laugh. “I can imagine.” She tilted her head as curiosity filled her. “Since I’ve known you, you’ve never had a girlfriend. A girl hasn’t caught your eye?”

  His fingers turned the cup around and around. “Well, you know I flirt with you to tease you and have fun, but I’m not the kind of guy to go after another man’s woman. I’ve only ever looked at you as a friend, but there is someone who recently caught my eye.”

  Beth couldn’t hide her smile. “Amanda?”

  Thorn’s thumb poked a hole through the Styrofoam cup. “Yeah.” His voice was hoarse.

  “So, why haven’t you asked her out?”

  Thorn’s head whipped around. He gaped at her a moment before his head snapped back to the window. “I thought you’d neuter me if I did.”

  Beth covered her mouth with her hand. “No, I wouldn’t neuter you.” She giggled. “But if you screw up, I might.”

  His fingers dug into the cup, shredding it. Pieces of Styrofoam fluttered to his feet. “I haven’t asked her out, because she makes me nervous.” He risked another glance at Beth. “S
he scares me.”

  Beth frowned. “Why?”

  Thorn’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Because she’s special.”

  His statement couldn’t be truer. “She is,” Beth agreed and lay a hand on his arm. “But so are you.”

  He shook his head. “I can see the hurt in her eyes. Someone put it there.” His thumbs broke the thick bottom of the cup in half. “I’m afraid if I try to get close to her, she’ll run away.”

  Beth looked down at the Styrofoam snowflakes on the floor. His fear was a very real possibility. She knew all about Amanda’s past and what brought her to seek self-defense lessons. It wasn’t up to her to tell Thorn the details, but she could give him something so he could understand.

  “Amanda’s ex hospitalized her.” Her words made Thorn’s arms flex. She almost got up to retrieve another cup for him to tear apart. “He gave her scars. The physical ones, she covers. The mental scars are what you can see in her eyes.” She paused before saying the next part. “Men scare her.”

  Thorn turned his head away from the window, but he only did it for ten seconds as he took a couple of calming breaths. His hands were fists.

  “It took her a year before she could talk to Donovan and make eye contact with him, but she’s getting better. She shook your hand.”

  He tilted his head to her. His gaze flicked to her. “What does that mean?”

  “For the longest time, she didn’t like people to touch her. That’s how badly her ex hurt her. But she gave me a hug when I hired her as my assistant. That was the first time she had done that since I’ve known her.” She leaned closer. “Your reaction wasn’t the only one I noticed when I introduced the two of you. You were a stranger to her, but she shook your hand. For her to do that, that means she felt something, too.” She lowered her voice. “The next time I saw her she asked about you. As a matter of fact, she blushed.”

  Thorn’s chest rose and fell slowly.

  “She wanted to know what your first name was, but I told her she’d have to ask you herself to find out.” Beth grinned when Thorn looked at her. “The two of you would make a good match.” She peered over her shoulder at Donovan. “Like Donovan and me.”

  Thorn stared out the window for several heartbeats before saying, “Thanks for that.”

  She squeezed his arm. “You just have to be patient with her.”

  “I can do that.” He nodded. “For her, I’ll take it slow. I’ll talk to her until she trusts me.”

  “For how long?”

  “As long as it takes.”

  Beth nodded. “You’re a good man, Thorn.” She got up to get him a fresh cup of coffee. He accepted it with a nod. The two of them sat silently. She didn’t have to guess what Thorn was thinking about. She thought about Amanda, too. Amanda was a diamond in the rough, and Beth hoped she would step out of her comfort zone enough to let Thorn in. He could be the one to heal her and protect her. Beth hadn’t told him how Amanda was still afraid of her ex, because the bastard continued to haunt her—not just in her nightmares and memories but in real life. He wouldn’t leave her alone, and Amanda lived in fear of the day he’d come for her again.

  Beth stared out the window with Thorn. She wished he’d take a break, but she knew he’d refuse. This was his job, which he took seriously. He was trained to be on long stakeouts, but she couldn’t help but feel concern for her friend. Fatigue and exhaustion weren’t good things for a cop to have while on the job.

  A dark shape passed beneath the streetlight across the parking lot. Beth sat forward. “Did you see that?” She pointed a finger. “Someone is by the streetlight.”

  Thorn lifted his radio. “Unknown person your nine o’clock.”

  Beth’s heart tripped in her chest like a rock tumbling down a cliff. Her mouth went dry. The figure meandered across the parking lot with a haltering gait. When it came on the sidewalk, Thorn picked up his firearm and held it in his hands.

  Beth didn’t blink as the figure turned and ambled in their direction. The person was a couple of rooms away and still coming closer.

  Thorn slowly rose from his chair. He pressed his back to the wall and angled his head to watch as the person approached. His hands were in front of him, cradling his firearm.

  Beth followed his motion and got out of her chair. If that person burst through their door, she couldn’t be sitting on a chair like a moron. She had to be on her feet, ready. She looked toward Donovan, who was sound asleep. Should she wake him?

  The figure came to their door and stopped.

  Beth held her breath.

  A hand reached out and fiddled with the door handle.

  Her gaze landed on the door handle on her side of the door. It shook. Beth’s hands clenched. It was then she realized she didn’t have her weapon. Her gun was on the nightstand, and Donovan’s gun was on the bed next to him. She could get it in a couple of strides, but she didn’t want to budge from where she stood.

  The man stumbled back and stood facing the door for several seconds. The same hand that had rattled the door handle lifted to scratch the man’s head. He lumbered around and continued walking. Beth eyed him as he swayed from side to side and passed the window where the two of them stood on guard.

  Neither of them moved. Not even after the man’s shadow shrank up the sidewalk.

  “Looks like a drunk. We’ve got eyes on him,” a soft voice said from Thorn’s radio. A moment later, “All clear. The drunk found his room two doors down.”

  Thorn dropped into his chair. He set his firearm back in its place and clicked the radio. “Ten-four.” He stood the radio next to his firearm. Then he lowered his head and raked his hands through his hair.

  Beth lowered into her chair. Thorn’s anxiety bounced off him in waves. “You need a shot of something strong and probably a good massage.” His shoulders looked as tense as concrete, as if the morrow in his bones had been replaced with cement.

  Thorn gave a dry laugh. “I probably do.”

  “When this is done, drinks are on me.”

  “And what about the massage?”

  She smirked. “You’re on your own with that one. You could always ask that hooker next time she comes around.”

  He sat back. “I’ll pass.”

  Beth felt bad. Thorn was on edge, worried for them, and the one woman he would want to be alone with was too frightened to even speak to the male species. She sighed. “Can I get you anything?”

  “No.” His voice was gruff.

  “Come on. There has to be something. More coffee? A slice of pizza?”

  “I have to take a leak.”

  Beth paused. “Okay, so go.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Sure, you can. I’ll keep lookout for you.”

  “No.”

  “Thorn, if your bladder bursts, you won’t be good to anyone. I can sit here and keep my eyes trained out this window for as long as it takes you to use the bathroom.” She got up and nudged him with her knee. “Come on.”

  “Fine,” he growled and got up. With his hands around her shoulders, he shifted her and gently pushed her into his chair. “Stay here.”

  While he was gone, she kept her gaze glued out the window. He wasn’t even gone a minute before he returned. She swapped places and sat with him until she couldn’t stop yawning. She brought him a slice of pizza and refilled his coffee before she crawled back into bed with Donovan. When she set her head on his shoulder, his arms came around her. She watched Thorn as he studied the night. Her eyelids lowered as she sent out a wish for him and Amanda. The two of them deserved happiness and love, and Beth had a feeling they’d find it in each other’s arms.

  ****

  The room was bright with sunlight when she woke. Donovan wasn’t in bed next to her. She sat up and stretched her arms over her head. Poor Thorn was still in the chair. The torn Styrofoam still littered the floor at his feet, but the second cup she brought him was whole and no doubt empty.

  “Morning,” she said.

  Thorn bobbed his head
. She couldn’t even begin to guess how tired he was. He had stayed awake all night to keep them safe. He rose stiffly from the chair. “Now that you’re up, I’m officially off duty.”

  Guilt gripped her. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was seven-thirty in the morning. “If you were waiting for me to wake up, you should’ve woken me up. You didn’t have to let me sleep.”

  “I can’t wake a sleeping woman.”

  She smiled. “You’re cute.”

  Donovan stepped out of the kitchen. “Excuse me?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Good morning, dear.”

  Donovan chuckled. “Good morning.” He bent down to kiss her on the top of the head.

  A knock at the door had their backs going straight.

  Thorn lifted a hand. “Relax. I asked the next shift to bring the two of you breakfast.” He opened the door. A man in plainclothes stood on the other side with a white paper bag in his hand. “I hope they like egg and sausage sandwiches.”

  Thorn accepted the bag and slapped the guy’s shoulder. “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”

  “The other car is rolling out in five, and then I’ll be on duty.”

  “See you later.” Thorn shut the door. “Here.” He set the white bag on the bed. “Eat up.”

  Five minutes later, a voice came from Thorn’s radio. “In position.”

  “Ten-four.” Thorn let out a sigh as he clipped his radio on his belt and put his gun back in the holster. “I’m outta here, kids. I’ll check in after work.”

  Beth frowned. “After work. You have to go in? Shit, Thorn. You were up all night.”

  “Criminals don’t rest,” he said matter-of-factly.

  Beth got off the bed and hugged him. His arms came around her slowly, as if stiff. He looked down at her with shadowed eyes and gave her a weak smile. This was not the jubilant Thorn she knew. He looked between her and Donovan. “Stay safe.” He gave them a half-hearted salute before slipping out the door.