by Morgan Blaze
A minute later, Roger Monroe opened the door and said, “You’re not Aubrey.”
“Uh…no.” Very far from what he’d anticipated. There was no anger in the man’s tone, only surprise. “Are you expecting her?”
A small scowl formed on Roger’s face. “I did tell her to give me some time,” he said. “I don’t know what you’re doing here, but believe me, I’m not anywhere near ready to have a heart-to-heart with you.”
Now he was really confused. “I came to tell you that I love your daughter,” he said.
“Oh, Lord. Please don’t. It’s hard enough being polite to you.”
“But I thought…” He took a step back. “She told me you were killing mad.”
“I was.” Roger Monroe sighed. “Now I’m not. But I don’t want to shake your hand and invite you to call me Dad, all right? I’m sorry, but I have a lot of hate to let go of first.”
“So you’re okay with it. With us.”
He cringed. “I wouldn’t say okay. Just…slightly more tolerant.”
Mark’s heart beat a rapid rhythm. He almost didn’t dare believe this. “Where’s Aubrey?” he said. “Is she here?”
Another sigh. “Around back at the guest house. Talking to her brother.”
“Thank you.” He turned to head that way, needing to find her.
“Wait.”
He stopped, and Roger walked past him. “You’d better let me go first,” he said. “Jason isn’t quite so tolerant.”
“All right.”
He followed Roger to the back yard, across a neatly trimmed expanse of grass to a small house. A thread of concern shot through him when he realized the front door was wide open. “That doesn’t seem right.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Roger said.
By unspoken consent, they both picked up the pace. Roger went right into the house, and Mark followed close behind. “Jason? Aubrey?” Roger called. “Is everything okay?”
They checked every room. Empty. Roger reached the bedroom first—and stopped so suddenly that Mark almost ran into him. “My God,” he breathed. “I don’t believe…”
“What is it?” Mark pushed past him, and immediately saw what had shocked the man. “Oh, Christ. Those are my tools. And…” He moved toward the closet, his gaze riveted to the twisted lengths of metal at the front of the mess. “Pipe bombs. Jesus.”
Suddenly, he knew what Jason was up to. And if Aubrey had come in here and seen this, she must’ve figured it out—and gone after him.
“I know where they are,” he said. “I have to go.”
“Where? I’m going with you.”
Mark almost told him no, but he didn’t have time to argue. “Fine, but move it,” he said, already striding back through the house. “And call Sheriff Tanner on the way.”
“I already am.”
Outside, they broke into a run.
Chapter 14
Aubrey arrived at the job site to find Jason’s car, empty—and the house on fire.
She parked crookedly, got out and sprinted for the structure. “Jason!” she screamed as she ran. “Are you in there?” The fire wasn’t too bad yet. A lot of smoke, a few flames licking at the window openings. It looked like the bulk of it was pretty far inside the place.
She rushed through the entryway frame and immediately started choking. Eyes watering, she waved a hand in front of her face and pulled out her phone with the other, navigating awkwardly to the flashlight app. “Jason, answer me!”
The light didn’t do much. There was thick smoke everywhere, and the scant flames weren’t bright enough to show anything. She lifted her shirt over her nose and mouth, trying to keep some of the smoke out, and moved tentatively forward. “Jason?”
A weak cough. She couldn’t tell where it was coming from. “Can’t move…” a voice whispered.
“Jason!”
She stumbled around endlessly, her breath coming harder as the smoke infiltrated her lungs. “Say something,” she rasped. “Jason…”
“Here.”
The faint word came from her right. Squinting against watering eyes, she moved in that direction and held the phone as far out as possible, until the choked beam of light picked out a heap of debris—and her brother pinned beneath.
“Oh, no,” she moaned. She reached his side and started pulling off whatever she could. “Hang on. I’ll get you out of here.”
“Went off early.” He tried to lift his head. “Bree…too heavy…”
“No. I’ve got it.” She was coughing now, hacking, and the sound alarmed her. Worse, she was weakening by the second. “You’ll be fine.”
“Leave me.”
“No!” Finally, she cleared all the loose debris—only to find a heavy ceiling beam holding him down.
She pulled, tugged, kicked. It didn’t budge. She was already too weak to move it.
“Go,” her brother rasped. “I deserve this. You don’t.”
“I’m not going to let you die,” she panted, looking around for anything she could use as a tool. Smoke obscured everything, and now she could hear the crackle of hungry flames. “There’s a tool shed. I’ll get something to use and come back.”
“Don’t.”
“I’m coming back for you,” she said.
Over his fading protests, she turned and headed through the smoke. The cell phone’s light did nothing now. Dizzy and disoriented, she waved her arms in an attempt to find wall studs. She could hold onto them and pull her way out.
She stumbled and fell. Got to her feet, and managed a few more steps before she fell again. But there was less smoke by the floor, and she could almost breathe. So she decided to crawl out.
She was still trying to pull herself forward when the blackness overcame her.
* * * *
Mark smelled the fire before he saw it. Panic drove his foot to the floor, and he nearly collided with Aubrey’s car as he came to a screeching halt at the curb. “Call 911,” he shouted at Roger, banging his door open.
“I did.”
“Well, call again! The sheriff, too. Call everything, damn it!”
He didn’t wait for a response. Stripping his shirt off, he sprinted for the trailer and soaked the material, then wrapped it around his nose and mouth, grabbing a flashlight before as he ran to the burning frame. Both cars out there had been empty—and he knew Aubrey was in here. Probably Jason, too.
“Aubrey!” His voice was muffled by the shirt, and smoke seared his eyes as he rushed in. “Where are you?”
He crouched low and switched the flashlight on, sweeping the smoke-dulled beam in a slow arc. There—a soot-smudged and bloodied figure ahead and to the right, trapped under a splintered roof beam. The figure wasn’t moving. God, please… he thought as he shuffled his way over, bent low against the smoke.
It was Jason.
His eyes fluttered, and he groaned something indistinguishable. So he was alive, at least. Every part of Mark wanted to leave the bastard there to die, and find Aubrey instead. There wasn’t much time for any of them.
But he couldn’t do that.
Gritting his teeth, Mark gripped the end of the beam and lifted. The damned thing was heavy, and it was lodged beneath more beams. He strained to shift it just a few inches, screamed as he felt something in his shoulder pop.
He gave one last tremendous shove, and the beam broke loose and tumbled aside.
“Come on, you son of a bitch,” he gasped, dragging Jason clear of the debris. He stooped to sling the man around his shoulders. Bearing the weight hurt like hell, but he’d worry about that later. With the flashlight in his teeth, he turned back and made a crouching run for the door.
When he burst outside, Roger was there waiting. “Oh God, Jason,” the man moaned. “Here. Let me take him.”
Mark fell to his knees. “All yours,” he panted.
Roger lowered him to the ground. After a few seconds, Jason drew a whopping breath and launched into a hoarse, convulsing fit of coughing. “Is he all right?” Roger sai
d, trying to hold his son down. “Will he…”
“Don’t know. He’s breathing, so that’s good.” Weakened and dizzy, Mark dragged himself to his feet. “Need more water,” he said. “Then I’m going back for Aubrey.”
He absolutely didn’t want to waste even a minute going back to the trailer. But he’d taken a few fire safety courses, way back when he’d considered volunteering for the fire department, and knew he’d be useless if he didn’t—and they’d both die in there. Too much smoke in his lungs, and he’d pass out. Then eventually he’d never breathe again.
He made it fast. When he came back, Jason had stopped coughing, and his eyes were open. His horrified gaze fastened on Mark. “You saved me,” he said, his voice like sandpaper. “Why?”
“Never mind. Where’s Aubrey?”
Jason shivered. “In there. Somewhere.”
“Great.” He took a few deep breaths of non-polluted air and double-checked the flashlight. “I’ll find her,” he said. “I’m not coming out until I do.”
He wrapped the soaked shirt around his face again, and ran back into hell.
Chapter 15
Aubrey drifted in and out of consciousness. Her breathing was so shallow, she wouldn’t have been sure she was breathing at all—except every intake of air burned her lungs. And even when she thought her eyes were open, she couldn’t see a thing.
Maybe she was dead. But if that was the case, death wasn’t fair. It shouldn’t hurt so much.
A lucid moment passed over her, and she thought something had changed. Some of the darkness might have been brighter. And moving. She tried to wet her lips, to make a sound, but she had no saliva. The best she could manage was a thin, reedy wheeze.
Blackness again. When it lifted, the moving darkness seemed closer. She had to do something. It was probably the fire coming for her, but maybe someone had seen the blaze and called 911. Maybe it was a firefighter.
With every ounce of strength she had left, she sucked in a breath. And screamed.
The sound was awful, a weak and rattling string of choked gasps. But when it ended, she heard something.
“Aubrey!”
Here. I’m over here. She fought the edging blackness, tried to move. The light grew brighter. Then there was pressure beneath her, arms lifting her up. She was cradled against something solid and warm. Something safe.
“Damn it, Aubrey. Why did you come in here?”
Mark. He’d figured it out. He came for her, even after what she’d said to him.
Then they were moving, low to the floor. She closed her throbbing eyes and clung to him—wanting to sob her relief, unable to do anything. At last, the sweet, clean outside air hit her like an answered prayer.
She was lowered to the ground. A spasm of coughing wracked her, and she hacked up what felt like a gallon of thick, unspeakable stuff. Finally, she was able to draw a long breath and open her eyes.
Mark crouched next to her. Shirtless, bleeding and smudged black, with a few swaths of angry red skin along his ribs that looked like burns. His right shoulder was a solid, ugly purple. But he was smiling.
“You look like hell,” she croaked.
He laughed abruptly, winced and wiped his eyes. “Damn, that hurts,” he said. “Don’t you ever do that again, woman. You got that?”
She tried to smile. “I had to,” she said. “He—oh my God. Jason!”
“He’s safe,” Mark said with a grimace. “I got him out.”
“You…”
He nodded. “Found him first. Wanted to leave him, but…I couldn’t.”
“Thank you,” she said in a cracked whisper. “I owe you.”
“No, you don’t.” He bent down and placed a tender kiss on her forehead. “There’s nothing to give me, because I’ve got everything I want right here. Even if she’s an idiot.”
This time she managed a smile. “If I’m understanding here, you went in there twice,” she said. “So who’s the idiot?”
“I’ve had training.”
“No, you haven’t.”
“Two fire safety courses. Summer after senior year.”
She shook her head. It hurt. “Unbelievable,” she said. “Is there anything you can’t do?”
“One thing.”
She arched an eyebrow.
“I can’t live without you.”
Despite the pain and dizziness, she was filled with a rush of pure joy. “Good thing you don’t have to, then,” she said. “Because I’m never leaving you again.”
Sirens screamed in the distance, growing louder fast. Above them, she heard someone say, “Aubrey?” She tried to focus on the figure looming over them.
Then her father dropped to his knees beside her. “Oh, thank God,” he said. “Thank God you’re all right. If I’d lost you…”
“Dad? How…what are you doing here? How did you beat the fire department?”
“I called them on the way.” He took her hand in both of his. “Your…Mark here, he came to the house to—uh, proclaim his love for you. We saw what was in the guest house closet. He figured everything out, and we came here.”
She couldn’t hold back a sob. “You went to talk to my father? On purpose?”
“I wasn’t giving up on you,” Mark said roughly.
“And I’m so grateful you didn’t.” Roger squeezed her hand, and then looked at Mark. “You saved my children’s lives. I can’t tell you what that means, but I’m in your debt…son.”
“Er. Let’s stick with Mark, okay?”
“Works for me,” Roger said quickly.
Aubrey rolled her eyes. “You two are pathetic,” she said. “And I love you both.”
Mark gave her a stunned expression. Before he could say anything, the air was filled with flashing lights and rumbling motors, loud shouting and running feet. A pair of firefighters in full gear swept in and started tugging Mark away, even as he protested. Two more materialized to tend to Aubrey.
She let herself relax. After all, she knew it wouldn’t be long before she was back with Mark.
And this time, it was going to stick.
* * * *
Mark tried again to stand, but the masked firefighter pushed him firmly down to sit on the edge of the emergency rescue truck. “Relax, man,” he said. “I’ve got to check you out, make sure nothing’s too broken.”
“I need to be with Aubrey.”
“She’ll be fine. She’s in good hands, I promise.”
“She’d better be,” Mark growled.
“I see you’re still the same cranky son of a bitch you were in high school.”
He frowned at the firefighter. “Do I know you?”
“Don’t know, but I sure as hell remember you.” The man took his mask off and smiled.
Mark squinted at him. “Adam?”
“That’s me,” he said. “Now hold still, before I have to tell you to hold still again. If I recall correctly, there’s no way I can keep you down.”
“You’ve got that right.” Mark managed to relax. A little. “So you’re a firefighter, huh?”
“No, I’m a ballerina.” Adam smirked and drew a stethoscope out from a bag next to Mark. “Anybody ever tell you it’s suicide to rush into a burning building, man?”
“I took a few classes,” he said, wincing as the cold metal touched his chest. “Suicide or not, there was no way I wasn’t going in there.”
“Yeah. I can see why.” Adam listened in a few spots, then put the stethoscope away with a frown. “Well, your lungs aren’t crispy fried,” he said. “You’re lucky to be alive…and so are they.” He grabbed a clear mask attached to a tube. “Want to suck on some oxygen while I manhandle you?”
“No, thanks. Just do what you’re doing—and make it fast.”
“All right.”
For long moments, Adam poked and prodded. His frown resurfaced when he got to the bruised mass of Mark’s shoulder. “It’s dislocated,” he said.
“Well, pop it back in.”
“You should really
go to the hospital—”
“Do it!”
“Okay, cranky.” Adam gripped his arm and hesitated. “This is going to hurt. A lot.”
“Don’t I know it.”
He closed his eyes, and let out an explosive grunt as Adam twisted his arm and shoved the joint back into place. “Ouch, damn it.”
“Told you.” Adam patted his leg. “All right. You’re cleared.”
“About time.” He jumped down from the truck, but turned to face Adam before he went. “Hey, I wanted to tell you,” he said. That night at the graduation party…thanks for calling my brother.”
“No problem,” he said. “Jonah did something for me once, so I was returning the favor. Plus, I didn’t want to see anyone get hurt.”
Mark grinned. “I guess that’s why you’re a ballerina.”
“Exactly.”
“Well…thanks, man.” He held out a hand, and Adam shook it firmly. “See you around.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I hope not,” he said. “At least not like this. Stay out of burning buildings, will you?”
“I’ll try.”
With a half-wave, he jogged across the yard to the ambulance, where Aubrey was lying on a stretcher. She smiled weakly. “They’re taking me to the hospital,” she said. “Just for observation. They say I’ll be fine.”
“All right,” he said. “I’m going with you.”
“I don’t think they’ll let you…”
“I’d like to see them stop me.”
She gave a rusty laugh. “On second thought, maybe they won’t try.”
“Damned right they won’t.” He took her hand with care. “You’re stuck with me, sweetheart. Somebody has to make sure you don’t tackle any more house fires.”
“The house.” Her face fell. “It’s ruined. Your business…”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said firmly. “If I have to, I can start over with any kind of business I want. But there’s only one you.”
Her smile warmed him to the core—and suddenly, nothing hurt any more.
Chapter 16
One week later
Aubrey arrived at the job site on a sunny Monday morning with a lighter heart. The charred remains of the shell had been completely razed, and the new frame taking shape filled her with hope. Mrs. Vanderbright had been incredibly understanding about the whole thing, considering the circumstances—which somehow, she already knew about.
