Put Out (Kilgore Fire Book 5)

by Lani Lynn Vale

  I blinked in confusion.

  “Didn’t think they were pretty? Why?”

  He shrugged. “Do I have kids?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

  That’s about when it struck me as wrong. Something—and I didn’t know what—was wrong. He seemed to know me just fine, but shouldn’t he know if he had kids or not?

  “They’d be here if I did,” he concluded. “Right?”

  I would think so.

  “I think what I heard the last time anyone spoke was that your parents were on a cruise, and your grandmother is in a retirement home,” I said. “As is your grandfather who’s suffering from Alzheimer’s.” I walked forward and picked up the drinks I’d abandoned from the table when I’d first walked into the room. “Are you thirsty?”

  “The doctor hasn’t cleared him for fluids yet.”

  “Hmm,” I said. “Ice is allowed, though, from what I hear.”

  The nurse didn’t have anything to say to that, so I assumed it was all right as I picked up the cup of ice and the spoon, scooped up some ice, and then moved it to Bowe’s beautiful bow-tie lips.

  His lips parted, and I had to force myself to stay under control as his tongue came out—waiting.

  I dropped the ice onto his tongue and waited with a raised eyebrow.

  “More,” he demanded.

  No please or thank you for him. Just a demand.

  Where it would’ve pissed me off from any other person, I gave him leniency.

  He was hurt, had just woken up in a strange place, and was not in his right mind.

  At least, that’s what I told myself.

  Surely, I couldn’t find it attractive that a man would demand something of me without first saying please.

  Right?

  I gave him more, then ended up giving him the cup when he urged me to hand him the spoon.

  “Do you want me to get his vitals for you?” I asked the nurse who was still standing in the same spot in the corner of the room.

  She shook her head, taking a tiny, hesitant step forward, and came to an immediate stop when Bowe tossed her a look.

  “Bowe,” I snapped. “Seriously.”

  Bowe’s jaw worked, but he didn’t say another word, or give an ugly look, until the nurse finished her assessment, then left the room.

  “She, of course, didn’t find it in her heart to empty the urine from the bag,” I grumbled, grabbing the hat (also known as the urine measurer) from the bathroom, donning gloves, and emptying the damn thing myself.

  “That’s kind of odd that you’re doing that,” Bowe observed as he leaned over the side of the bed.

  “It’s kind of odd that a nurse wouldn’t bother to do it herself when she was in the patient’s room and noticed that it was full,” I countered. “Did you finish your ice?”

  He nodded his head and watched me intently as I walked to the bathroom, emptied his urine into the toilet, and set the container back on top of the toilet lid where it belonged.

  Once my hands were washed, I walked back to the side of the bed—self-conscious now that Bowe’s black eyes were still on me—and took a seat on the edge of his bed.

  “What do you remember?” I asked.

  “I remember you…and me. I was at a call. A call for what, I don’t know, but a call. Someone threatened you, I took you down, got up, then got my head knocked in by something hard. I can’t remember anything else,” he explained.

  “You know you’re in a hospital?”

  He nodded.

  “You know that you were seriously hurt. But you don’t know why you were there with me in the first place?” I asked for confirmation.

  He nodded again.

  “You were on shift.”

  “On shift for what?” he questioned.

  I grinned. “You’re a firefighter, dude. That’s why.”

  His eyes went wide.

  “Really?”

  I nodded again.

  “Wow, imagine that.”

  “Why do you say it like that?” I pushed.

  “I just didn’t think I was anything all that special.”

  “What else do you remember?”

  “You.”

  “Me?”

  “What else?” I shifted on the bed, bringing my knee up to rest my chin on, and waited for him to explain.

  What he had to say shocked the shit out of me.

  “You. You’re the only thing I can remember,” he said. “You. You. You.”

  “Do you know your name?” I asked.

  He nodded.

  “Bowe,” he confirmed.

  “Bowe what?” I persisted. I didn’t know if he heard me call him Bowe or if he really did know his name.

  He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  Fear started to pound away at my heart and I started to worry.

  “Did you know what you did for a living?”

  “Not until you told me,” he blinked. “I still can’t believe I’m a firefighter. Holy shit.”

  “Do you remember your parents’ names?” I asked.

  He pursed his lips, concentration taking over his face for a few long moments, before shaking his head in the negative. “Nope. Although they can’t be all that great if they’re not here.”

  My mouth dropped open.

  “From what I understand they tried to get home; the cruise line they were on was unable to port due to bad weather. It’s not their fault that they’re not here,” I patted his hand.

  He flipped his hand over quickly, his hand engulfing mine as he looked into my eyes.

  His eyes were a shade of brown, but darker than mine.

  If we ever had babies, they would never know whose eyes he or she got because they would probably be a shade in between our colors.

  I shut the door on that thought, slamming it closed so hard that my entire head rattled with the force.

  No, no babies.

  Babies were cute—but they smelled bad.

  They cried. They got sick. They were demanding.

  I loved Elise more than my next breath, but she was a handful.

  I’d had to quit going to school to make ends meet, meaning I had finished my pre-requisites and then three semesters of nursing school. I had no idea when or even if I could go back to get the last semester finished.

  I needed money, and money didn’t grow on trees. Meaning I was forced to put my dream of being a nurse on hold, and put my daughter first.

  That’s why I worked so much.

  I needed the money. I may live in a fancy ass house, but the taxes on said house still needed to be paid.

  And let me tell you something, those taxes weren’t a joke.

  They were a killer, and I would be paying more in taxes this year than I could really afford.

  “Hey,” that deep voice cut into my thoughts.

  “Yeah?” I cleared my throat, turning my gaze to his.

  “You went far away. Are you sure you shouldn’t go home? Get yourself and the baby to sleep?” He looked at the stroller pointedly.

  “Elise is used to it,” I said. “I work whatever shifts I can to pay my way. Nights. Days. Middle shift. Nothing is sacred. Then I pick up shifts at my brother’s garage when I’m not working—although, there I can at least bring Elise with me.”

  His brows furrowed.

  “Why?” he asked. “When do you get to spend time with your daughter?”

  I smiled sadly at him.

  “Anytime I can, which is why she’s used to sleeping in her stroller. It’s why I got the nice one,” I pointed out.

  Bowe grinned.

  “It does look kind of like the Rolls Royce edition.”

  “My mom’s the shit,” I agreed. “So…tell me everything you remember.”

  As it turned out, it wasn’t much.

  Chapter 8

  Why weigh yourself when you can set yourself on fire and roll over glass and get the same effect?

  -Workout T-shirt

  Angie


  “This is the thing,” the doctor looked at Bowe’s parents, who had shown up four days after Bowe woke. “It wasn’t his short-term memory that was affected. It’s his long term. It’s not surprising that he would remember Angie if she’s a new fixture in his life. It’s nothing personal.”

  Bowe’s parents both looked ravaged. Marcus and Gianna Tannenbaum.

  It was his grandmother that had that smile on her face, though.

  “You’ll let him go home with her, then?” Grams asked hopefully.

  The doctor looked considerate for a moment, then nodded his head.

  “Yes,” he agreed. “I see no reason why he can’t go home. His head’s healing up nicely. He needs to rest, though. Is that something he can accomplish at your house?”

  I nodded my head, careful to keep all expressions of excitement or elation off my face.

  “You have the accommodations to care for our son?” his mother, with her shrewd brown eyes, asked me.

  “Yes,” I assured her. “I live in a one-story ranch house in the middle of nowhere just off the main highway in Kilgore. It should be nice and peaceful, and I have no problem with y’all coming over, or even staying, if you want to.”

  The doctor took that as his cue to leave, and then I was left in the hallway with two angry parents, one smiling Grams, and Elise.

  “Do you mind if I hold her?” Grams asked. “She’s what I’v always thought Bowe’s kids would look like.”

  That was true, I couldn’t argue the fact, either.

  If I had to guess what Bowe’s kids would look like myself, Elise would fit the description perfectly.

  “Ruth,” Bowe’s mother, Gianna, said. “How about you go in there and talk to Bowe?”

  Grams—and yes, it was Grams to me now too since she practically forced me to call her that—smiled at Gianna.

  “Darling,” Grams said. “I’m not your mother. I’m your mother-in-law. I don’t have to deal with your shit if I don’t want to, and right now, I’m going to go ahead and let you know that you’re being an asshole to this young woman and she’s done absolutely nothing to deserve it.”

  My mouth dropped open.

  “Grams,” I started to say.

  Both women looked at me like I’d interrupted something, so I chose to take Elise from Grams’ arms and leave them to whatever it was that they were about to do.

  The moment I walked into the door, Bowe’s head turned to me.

  His eyes were distant, wary.

  But the moment he saw it was me, his entire body seemed to relax.

  “How did they take it?” he asked roughly.

  I held my fingers up.

  “I’m this close to losing it,” I said. “And I haven’t even been around them for more than an hour.”

  He grinned.

  “I got that impression myself,” he said. “Which was why I asked if I could go home with you instead of with them.”

  I nodded my head in understanding.

  “They’re sad, and a little bit brokenhearted, but deep down they understand,” I patted his hand.

  Elise followed suit, patting his hand as well.

  He chuckled and held his hands out, and I automatically relinquished her to him.

  “When do I get to go?”

  He sounded so hopeful that I didn’t have the heart to tell him that it would likely be later this evening.

  His doctor had to see his latest test results, and if everything was okay, then he’d be released to go home.

  The bad thing was that the lab was backed up today, and likely wouldn’t get around to running his numbers until later on in the day.

  Meaning he had at least another four more hours with his parents, who really had no idea just how intimidating they were.

  ***

  “What is this place?” Bowe asked exactly four hours later. “It’s like a fucking castle.”

  I nodded my head.

  “About three years ago, my dad won the lottery,” I said. “It wasn’t the jackpot or anything, but it was enough that he had a substantial amount.”

  I cleared my throat.

  “When I was pregnant with Elise, I don’t know if my dad finally grew a backbone or what, but he tried to make things ‘right.’ But those things weren’t enough. So his efforts kept getting more and more elaborate until he bought me this place.”

  Bowe choked.

  “He bought you a house?” he asked in surprise.

  I nodded my head.

  “Yes,” I said. “And I was homeless, scared, and pregnant. There was absolutely no other choice for me right then, so I took it. And here I am.”

  “I remember a little bit about what you told me about your dad, but not much more. Why such a long separation?” He moved around the car at a snail’s pace, and I hurried to the passenger side back door.

  With practiced ease, I lifted Elise’s car seat from the base that was installed in my car, and started lugging her up the front walk behind Bowe.

  Bowe was staring at my house like it was a circus sideshow, and I supposed that it would be quite grand to the average eye.

  Me, I didn’t see it.

  I only saw money my dad forked out to try to bribe me into liking him again.

  Not that that was ever going to happen.

  Still, he tried.

  “My dad was in the military,” I pushed past him to open the door with the key ring in my hand. “And he came home and divorced my mom while on emergency leave from his station in Germany.” I let the front door open on its own, and gestured Bowe inside. “He immediately deployed back there again before the ink was dry on the divorce papers.”

  Bowe’s eyes stayed on me instead of taking in my house, and I felt suddenly self-conscious.

  “When he returned from his station in Germany, we met him at the airport, only he wasn’t excited to see us. He was excited to see his new family, and didn’t give me or my sister the time of day. Not to mention my brother was sick in the hospital and my father didn’t bother to go see him,” I told him bitterly.

  Bowe’s eyes held compassion as he held my eyes, and I found that I quite liked that he didn’t feel pity for me.

  “Why was your brother in the hospital?” he questioned.

  “My brother has Crohn’s Disease,” I grimaced. “He’s had some trouble with his intestines since he was a young kid, and that was one of the many times that the disease hospitalized him.”

  Bowe grimaced.

  “I remember what Crohn’s is. I remember everything medically related to being a paramedic. I just don’t remember the actual act of having the job.” Bowe pursed his lips. “This is extremely aggravating.”

  I winked at him.

  “It’ll come back,” I rubbed my hand up and down his bicep. “Now, come into my house and let me give you the grand tour. I just have to put Elise down.”

  Bowe waited patiently as I put Elise down onto the floor in the living room where her toys were surrounding her, and turned back to him.

  “This is a big ass house,” he surmised, taking his first good look around.

  “Those ceilings are twenty-four feet tall, and those windows lining the wall are a bitch to clean,” I informed him.

  The house was set up as an open concept. The kitchen linked to the living room, and separating the two rooms was an island with seating around the edge. The walls were tall, and one wall was filled with wall to wall windows that went all the way up to the roof.

  “This is the living room, and I have a love/hate relationship with it.” I led him to the back first.

  I loved it.

  I also hated it.

  This place, everything it represented, was a love that was false.

  Hell, my mother even refused to come over here because it represented everything that she hated most in this world.

  My mother, well, she was definitely on the wronged side of their relationship. She couldn’t even stand being in the same room as him, which by my mark was acceptable to say the leas
t.

  I couldn’t stand being in the same room with my ex, either.

  And he’d cheated on me multiple times.

  Sure, we didn’t have the same type of relationship as my parents had had, but it was a relationship nonetheless.

  Troy’s and my relationship wasn’t normal.

  Not by a long shot.

  I’d met Troy when I was doing hospital rotations in the psych ward during my second semester of nursing school.

  No, he wasn’t a patient.

  But his sister was.

  Meeting him where I met him should’ve been my first clue.

  I should’ve known that meeting someone while you were working and doing a job was cosmically meant to fail. Especially when it’s in the psych ward.

  But I’d gone against my instincts and taken him up on an offer for dinner. Then I’d gone against my rules and spent time with him—more time than I should have.

  But Troy was Troy.

  He was sweet, charming, and funny…when he wanted to be.

  He had a dark side.

  A side where his thoughts turned inward, and his eyes changed.

  Secretly, I thought he was bi-polar or something. Not that I’d ever tell him that.

  He changed. One second he was happy-go-lucky, and the next he was dark and full of despair.

  That’s what happened the night he shot me.

  “Wow,” Bowe exclaimed. “This is an awesome view.”

  I shook my head free of those dark thoughts and went back to real life. In my head wasn’t a place that I wanted to be. Not right then, and not ever.

  “It is,” I agreed. “The property came with an old track hoe. My brother used to work a lot of construction in his youth, and he helped me make it.”

  What he helped make was a small pond that was a jump and a skip off my large back porch.

  When I put my deck on, I extended it so it looked like it went right up to the water.

  In reality, it didn’t.

  It was an illusion.

  My house was built up on a hill, and the pond was down the long hill at the bottom of the property.

  It was big enough, though, that it had the illusion that it was right at my back porch.

  “Anyway,” I said, taking hold of his hand. “This is my room.” I pointed to a door that led off the back deck.