by Janie Crouch
They were trapped in the kitchen, and it was on fire.
Oh God, had Allan and his friends followed her here and done this? This went way beyond throwing rocks through a window. Fire was engulfing the whole back wall now. They were going to be lucky to get out of this with their lives.
“Call 911, and let’s get in the cooler,” Violet yelled. “We should be able to keep the smoke out until the fire department arrives.”
“If we do that, the bakery will burn.” She couldn’t stand the thought of her friend losing the shop that meant so much to her. But the flames were getting higher. This was her fault, damn it. She needed to fix it. “I can still get to the fire extinguisher by the door.”
Violet grabbed her arm. “No. Those flames are too high. It’s not worth you getting hurt.”
“Yeah, well my phone was hanging by the door.” She could see her jacket burning on the hook, where her phone was in the pocket. It was probably a melted pile of goo by now. “Where’s yours?”
Violet shook her head, and Jordan knew the other woman had left her phone upstairs in her apartment. There was no getting to it. The fire extinguisher was the only option.
“We have to go for the extinguisher,” Jordan said.
Violet began gathering dry materials—flour, baking powder, salt—stuff they could throw on the fire. Using water might make the fire worse.
“You throw it,” she yelled. “I’ll run through the flames.”
There was no way in hell. Jordan shook her head. “Sorry, boss, but even with your workouts, I’m taller and can jump higher. It will be easier for me to get over the flames and grab the fire extinguisher.”
She could tell Violet didn’t like it, but she gave a brief nod. They were out of options and Jordan had the better chance of making it. The smoke was getting higher, the heat more oppressive.
Violet had her supplies ready to throw. Jordan tried to figure out if she could actually clear the flames that were climbing higher every second. Oh God, she hoped so.
“On three,” Violet yelled. “Jump high.. One… two… three!”
Flour and salt flew everywhere as Jordan leapt as high as she could. She felt the heat from the flames on her legs, but it wasn’t burning her.
She rushed to the extinguisher.
“I got it!” Jordan yelled. She couldn’t stop her cry of pain as the extinguisher’s metal burned her hands. But she held on. If she didn’t, she and Violet were going to die.
She sprayed, tears streaming down her face from the searing burn on her hands as Violet continued to pour the last of the flour over the flames.
They got it under enough control to be able to run out the back door. She was grateful when Violet took the extinguisher from her and continued using it on the fire. “Go get help.”
Did Violet know what she was asking? Jordan had always said if she was on fire, the town of Oak Creek would go inside and make a sandwich. She hoped she wasn’t about to prove that true.
But she ran toward The Mayor’s Inn anyway. Her hands were burned, so she couldn’t keep using the fire extinguisher. Maybe Violet could and possibly save the bakery.
When she rushed inside, she found some college-aged kid she didn’t recognize working the desk.
“I need your fire extinguisher. And call 911. The bakery is on fire.” Her voice sounded hoarse and brittle. Her breathing didn’t hurt—probably a good sign—but her hands were killing her.
The kid jumped up, and after a shocked second, he grabbed the fire extinguisher from under the counter and thrust it at her. She had to cradle it in her arms to carry it. The kid was already on the phone when she ran back out.
Jordan ran back to the bakery and handed the extinguisher to Violet. “That’s from The Mayor’s Inn. They’re calling the fire department now.”
She watched, gritting her teeth against the pain, as Violet used the extinguisher to further fight the flames. Within a few moments, the bakery was surrounded by people who’d heard the ruckus, bringing extinguishers of their own and shooing Violet out of the way. Soon the fire trucks arrived, moving everyone back.
Jordan kept silent about her blistered hands as Violet came to stand beside her and they watched the firefighters work. The other woman had enough on her mind without worrying about Jordan. Once the fire was under control, the fire chief insisted both women get looked at over at the hospital.
Jordan was exhausted and almost whimpering by the time they were escorted into the examination room. Violet, on the other hand, looked like she was ready to go door to door to figure out who had set fire to her beloved bakery.
Jordan didn’t have the heart to tell her it was probably not someone trying to hurt Fancy Pants at all. It had been someone trying to hurt Jordan.
Violet had just had the bad luck to hire her.
Two nurses escorted them down a long hall. One kept glaring at Jordan every few seconds while typing something on her phone when the older nurse wasn’t looking.
They stopped in front of a door and the older nurse opened it. “Ms. Collingwood, if you’ll come in here with me, Nurse Estes will take Ms. Reiss to a separate room.”
Violet nodded, then pulled Jordan in for a hug. “Are you okay?” she asked.
Jordan was careful not to touch Violet with her palms or fingers. “Yeah. I’ll be fine.”
She didn’t want to mention that she didn’t know how she was going to pay for this. The minimal insurance she had wouldn’t cover much. She just wanted to go home, but now she didn’t even have that.
Nurse Estes continued to glare as she pulled away from Violet, which didn’t help her feelings of unease. Obviously, she was just letting things overwhelm her because of exhaustion and pain. But when the woman texted someone again without apology or explanation—just making Jordan wait awkwardly there in the hall—and looked back up, her eyes were icy.
“This way.” The woman tilted her head toward a smaller hallway and crossed her arms over her chest.
Jordan followed along beside her as they turned down another hall farther from the emergency section. “Look, maybe I should just go home,” she said. “I’m sure I’ll be okay.”
Although she didn’t have a home to go to and definitely couldn’t drive with her hands in this shape.
Nurse Estes raised an eyebrow. “We have a room for you. Things are a little hectic in the hospital today, but you’ll be fine here.”
Hectic? Things hadn’t looked busy when they’d come through a few minutes ago. A lot of hospital staff had been standing around talking.
“Oh, okay.” Jordan knew she sounded skeptical, but hell, she was skeptical.
“My dad turns seventy next month,” Nurse Estes said.
What did that have to do with her? “Oh, happy birthday.”
“It probably won’t be much of a birthday because he has to work full-time. He was supposed to retire years ago but couldn’t.”
Jordan’s stomach cramped. She knew what was coming next. She’d heard too many versions of the same statements.
“Your father stole my parents’ retirement money. My father will be working for years now rather than retiring. You have a lot of nerve even showing your face in this town, much less living here.”
There was nothing Jordan could say that would make this right. But she had to try. “I’m sorry for—”
Nurse Estes cut her off, opening the door. Both of them stepped inside. “I’m sure you are. Here’s your room. Someone will be back to see you as soon as we can get to it.”
Before Jordan could say another word, the door shut with a resounding click and Nurse Estes was gone.
She looked around. The room was tiny and filled with boxes. It had been an examination room at one time, based on the table, counter and small sink. But it obviously wasn’t used that way regularly.
The only place she could sit at all was in a hard plastic chair along the far wall. With the state of her hands, she couldn’t move the boxes to sit or lie on the examination table.
Jordan sat, staring at the blisters that had formed on her palms and fingers, and waited.
And waited.
Chapter 10
Gabe was ready to rip someone’s head off.
Of course, anyone who’d been around him for the past two months, since the night he’d made such an ass of himself with Jordan, would say that ripping people’s heads off had just become his ops normal.
Getting the call that Violet’s bakery had caught on fire, and that she’d been inside when it had happened, had not helped his temper.
Listening to Edward Appleton, family friend and vice president of Collingwood Technology, talk about how he hoped this fire would help bring Violet back to the company all the way from Idaho Falls to Oak Creek had not helped his temper.
And now sitting in his sister’s hospital room, arm around her, listening to Sheriff Nelson explain that this hadn’t been some kitchen fire at all but someone trying to hurt Jordan?
There wasn’t enough temper in the world for him to lose.
Not a day had gone by for the past two months that he hadn’t thought about her. That he hadn’t wanted to kick his own ass for what he’d said to her.
He didn’t blame her at all for refusing to speak to him after that.
And now someone had thrown a damn bottle bomb into the bakery and could’ve killed both Jordan and Violet? Jordan had had to leap over goddamn flames in order to put the fire out?
He couldn’t even wrap his head around it.
Someone setting a building on fire went way beyond righteous anger over money Jordan’s father stole a decade ago. And not just on fire, but, according to the sheriff, dousing the place with accelerants to make sure the flames would destroy everything and blocking the door so no one could get out.
Hell. No.
Gabe was not going to sit back any longer. And not just because this was now affecting his sister.
Somebody needed to help Jordan.
She may not be willing to give him another chance, but he could still help her from afar, be that guardian angel she’d once mistaken him for. Maybe make up for some of his own asinine behavior while he was at it.
When the sheriff excused himself to go see Jordan—and Violet invited herself along—Gabe knew he wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to make sure Jordan was okay with his own eyes. She might tell him to go to hell, but that wasn’t any more than he deserved.
“I’m coming too,” he told Sheriff Nelson and Violet. “If there’s trouble, I want to know about it. And that woman is the epitome of trouble.”
Especially for him.
Sheriff Nelson came back with his brows furrowed to lead them to Jordan’s room. Evidently there had been some difficulty locating her in the hospital.
The second he entered the room, Gabe understood why. The place they’d put Jordan was a fucking supply closet. It had been an examining room at one time but obviously hadn’t been used for that purpose in a while.
Jordan sat on a hard plastic chair, quietly crying.
Somewhere deep in his chest, Gabe’s heart cracked.
As soon as she saw them, she tried to pull it together. Violet rushed over to her, but Gabe just stood in the doorway, caught in helpless fury.
As Violet crouched down next to her, Jordan tried to wipe her face on her shoulder awkwardly rather than use her hands. The fury grew inside him as he realized what was happening.
Her hands were burned. He couldn’t see them, but he could tell just by how she was holding them loosely, making sure they didn’t touch anything else.
They were burned so badly she couldn’t even blow her own nose. She was trying to wipe her eyes and face on her own shoulder.
Gabe was going to kick someone’s ass for this. But first, he was going to make sure Jordan was okay.
He grabbed some tissues from a box lying haphazardly on top of a stack of supplies and walked over to her. Leaning down, he tipped a finger under her chin, wiping her cheeks gently with the tissue, dirt and flour coming off with the wetness.
Those gray eyes looked at him with such heartbreaking thankfulness that he felt like his chest was being ripped open. He crouched down in front of her and held another tissue over her nose.
“Blow,” he said gently. She did.
Violet just looked confused.
“Her hands are burnt.” He explained to his sister what she hadn’t noticed. “She can’t do it herself.”
He wanted to trail his fingers down Jordan’s cheeks. Wanted to kiss her. Wanted to go into this goddamn town and slay every single person who’d ever been cruel to her. Wanted to sweep her up in his arms and carry her away from here forever.
But he couldn’t do any of those things. He’d given up the right with his stupid words about Allan Godlewski two months ago, so he just wiped her face again, overjoyed when she didn’t pull away. Instead, she rested her face against his hand.
Gabe’s eyes narrowed as he studied Jordan more closely. Her face was pale, her lips pursed and bracketed, her body stiff. Why? Violet had already been at the hospital nearly three hours, that meant Jordan must’ve been here that long also. More than enough time for them to have gotten her pain under control.
Looking into Jordan’s eyes from his crouched position, he reached for her wrists and gently turned them over so he could see the extent of her burns.
He heard his sister’s sharp intake of breath and the sheriff whistle through his teeth as they saw her wounds. There was no hospital anywhere in the entire country that wouldn’t have already treated these burns and had them wrapped to avoid infection.
Instead, this town had put Jordan in a fucking closet.
“Oh my God!” Violet crouched down next to him. “You burned yourself when you picked up the fire extinguisher, didn’t you?”
Jordan nodded. “I’m sorry.” Her tears were threatening to fall again. “It just hurts more than I thought it would, and I can’t drive, and I’m not sure what to do.”
Violet looked over at him, agony for Jordan’s pain radiating in his sister’s eyes. She rubbed Jordan’s shoulder. “I’m sure the pain medicine the doctors gave you will kick in soon. Or maybe they need to give you something stronger if it’s still hurting you this badly.”
“No, I just want to go home.” Jordan’s words were barely a whisper.
“They haven’t given you anything at all, have they?” Gabe hoped he was wrong. Prayed he was wrong.
Those big gray eyes stood out starkly in cheeks that were too pale. “I—I . . .”
He wasn’t wrong.
He stood and tucked a strand of Jordan’s hair behind her ear, burying his fury. That wasn’t what Jordan needed. “You hang in there a few more minutes. I’m going to handle this for you.”
Confusion battled relief in her eyes, breaking his heart further. When had this woman ever had someone to fight a battle for her? He wanted to kiss her so badly he could taste it. But he wanted to tend to her needs even more.
Sheriff Nelson gave Gabe a nod of approval as he walked out the door and straight down to the nurse’s station.
He was well aware of how to use his height to his full advantage when the situation called for it.
The situation damn well called for it now.
The two women there looked at him very attentively. Smiling.
“I want to know who’s responsible for Jordan Reiss.”
They both stiffened and looked away, saying nothing.
He stepped up to the counter and leaned over it, completely into their personal space. “You’re going to tell me what the hell is going on with her, right damn now. Why was she put in that closet, and why hasn’t she been seen yet at all despite her wounds?”
One nurse shot the other one a sly grin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Gabe turned away, refusing to spend another second on them. These women were petty and spiteful. He would make sure they got wha
t was coming, but right now he needed to find someone to help Jordan. She was what mattered most.
“Who’s the doctor in charge here?”
“That would be me, Mr. Collingwood. How can I help you?”
Gabe spun to find Anne Griffin standing behind him. Shit. Maybe this explained part of the problem. He’d always liked her. She’d been one of the first people to reach out to Violet and help her through the aftermath of her abduction.
That didn’t mean he was going to let Jordan’s treatment in this hospital stand.
“You’re Zac Mackay’s woman.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You’re Violet Collingwood’s brother.”
“Are you the one purposely blocking Jordan Reiss from getting the treatment she needs? Is it because of what happened to Zac’s family?”
One of the nurses actually snickered. Until Dr. Griffin turned and glared at them.
“I would never stop anyone from getting treatment in my hospital, regardless of what they’d done.” She was obviously offended at the suggestion. “I took the Hippocratic oath to ensure that.”
“Then do you want to explain to me why Jordan is in a room barely bigger than a fucking closet right now? And has been here for three hours with second-degree burns and hasn’t been treated?”
Silence fell over the entire emergency room at Gabe’s roar. He didn’t care. He was just getting started.
Anne stiffened, and he expected an argument or excuses out of her. Instead, she let out a blistering curse that would’ve made his Navy SEAL brothers proud. She jabbed a finger at the nurse who had snickered.
“Get a wheelchair. If what I think has happened is the case, both of you will be lucky to have a job by the end of the day.” She turned to him. “Take me to Jordan.”
Chapter 11
Forty-five minutes later, Gabe finally felt like he could breathe again when Jordan’s beautiful gray eyes found his and her mouth curved into the tiniest smile.
The hellfire Anne had rained down on the nurses responsible for ignoring Jordan would’ve had his SEAL comrades reaching for the bell to ring out immediately. Hell, the entire town had probably heard Anne’s righteous indignation. Good. They needed a wake-up call.
