Love & Deception (Agents in Love - Book 1)

by Chantel Rhondeau

  Fear clutched her insides. She pushed harder, but whatever blocked the doorway didn’t budge.

  “Okay, Carlie. Don’t panic,” she said aloud. “You’re going to be fine.”

  The words did nothing to calm her pounding heart. She pulled the door closed to keep the smoke from filling the office too quickly.

  It wasn’t impossible for an accidental fire to break out, but the doorway was blocked and the smoke alarms never sounded. It appeared the assassins decided to come after her again, only this time Nick wasn’t around to save her.

  A loud crash came from the kitchen area, and she wondered if the fire was already so bad that it destroyed the structure of the building. She had to get out of the office before she burned alive.

  Rushing to the phone on her desk, Carlie picked it up and punched in 911. It took a few seconds for her to realize the line was dead. And Nick had her cell phone.

  Another crash sounded out beyond the office and the lights flickered and then turned off.

  “Crap.” Carlie raced back to the door and opened it up, ramming against it with all her might. Whatever blocked the way gave slightly, but smoke also poured into the room at a rapid rate.

  Coughing, Carlie slammed her shoulder against the door again and again.

  There was no more telling herself not to panic. This office was about to become her crematorium.

  ***

  Nick’s unease mounted as he drove toward Carlie’s Creations. Stephen hadn’t been home, nor was his car parked at the karate dojo. It was a little past seven, and Nick wondered if Paul sent him on a wild goose chase to keep him away from Carlie.

  Though he’d called the business line at the shop twice, it went directly to a busy signal. There was no reason for Carlie to be on the phone or have the line off the hook. She should be sitting in the dining room, wondering where he was and why he was late. If she called anyone, it should be him.

  Something was wrong.

  Racing into the parking lot of the shop, all looked quiet. He might have believed he’d overreacted about things, except for one little problem. Every light was off inside the shop, even the security light just inside the doorway—that light never turned off.

  Blindly grabbing one of the phones from the pile on the seat beside him, Nick slammed the car into park. He jumped from the Porsche. Then, the scent hit him.

  Everything might look normal, but the smell of smoke filled the evening air. As Nick watched through the front windows of the shop, a suspicious glow of orange crept across the hallway and rolled onto the dining room floor.

  “Shit!” Nick punched in 911 on the phone, searching the parking lot for any sign of Carlie’s blond head. She couldn’t still be in there, could she?

  “9-1-1. What’s your emergency?”

  “Send a fire truck to 858 Dixon Drive immediately,” Nick barked into the phone. “Carile’s Creations is on fire.”

  Without waiting for a response, Nick disconnected the call and rushed to the back of the building. If Carlie was still inside the office, the fire in the hallway blocked off her escape route.

  Paul must have hired Stephen to do this, and that’s why he sent Nick running around town and kept him away from the shop. He felt sick wondering what Stephen did to her to keep her from exiting the building. The one thing he knew for sure was that the fire department wouldn’t make it in time to help her.

  As he rounded to the back door, the window in the kitchen exploded. Glass shattered and fire rushed out of the sudden opening, consuming the new source of oxygen and blasting Nick with intense heat.

  He shielded his face with his arm, though his heart sunk. That window had been his plan to get inside. With the inferno blazing through it, that was now impossible.

  “Carlie! Carlie! Where are you?”

  He searched all around, praying with all his being that she stood somewhere just out of his line of vision in the delivery truck parking area. Praying she wasn’t inside her office. She was nowhere to be seen, however. S.A.T.O. wanted her dead. Stephen wouldn’t have let her escape.

  Desperate, he grasped the metal handle on the back door, hoping it was unlocked. The super-heated metal scorched his fingers, but Nick forced it down despite the pain. The handle jiggled but didn’t open the door. Locked.

  “Shit.” He rushed back to the window. The fire crackled, smoke filling Nick’s senses. Items inside the kitchen popped under the heat. “Carlie!” he screamed into the opening. “Carlie? Are you in there?”

  He held his breath, struggling to hear anything over the sounds of the blaze.

  “Help me.”

  The thin wail sounded like it came from the hallway area. Nick grasped the frame of the window seal, but shards of glass punctured his skin and the flames licked at his face. He’d never get to her that way.

  There was only one thing he could think to try. It would tell Paul without a doubt that Nick saved her, but he was beyond caring at this point. He just hoped it worked.

  “I’m coming for you, Carlie! Hang on!”

  ***

  Carlie rammed her shoulder one more time into the door and then dropped to the ground, coughing and choking as she struggled to suck in cleaner air near the floor. Even though she filtered it by placing her coat over her mouth and nose, the putrid stench gagged her.

  The door had finally opened enough that she might be able to squeeze through. Her bruised shoulder throbbed with pain from the repeated pounding, but she figured things would get worse while fighting her way through the doorway. Already everything she touched was hot and ash flew through the air, coating her hair with soot and hot embers.

  Once she thought she heard Nick calling her name. Time seemed to stand still and she didn’t know if that had been only moments before or hours. Actually, she wasn’t even sure he’d really called her, or if it was the imaginings of a desperate brain hoping for rescue.

  Either way, she wasn’t about to lie down and die waiting for someone else. Metal shelving from the kitchen was what held the door in place, wedged in the hallway so tight, it formed a barricade that moved agonizingly slowly with every lunge of her body against the door. Though it would be a tight squeeze, Carlie thought she could crawl through it now and get out of the office. In her narrow line of vision through the door, fire raced up the walls, eating everything in its path.

  If she could somehow get to the front of the shop, she could get out. Even if she had to run through the fire, it was better than incinerating in the office.

  She shuddered, not wanting to think about how hot the metal blocking the doorway had to be. The only way out was through it. Carlie took a deep breath and squeezed herself into the opening. The leg on the shelves blocked her path. She’d have to wiggle past it.

  Trying to bolster her courage, Carlie slipped her hands inside her coat sleeves and grasped the metal bar. The intense heat seared through the fabric and into her skin.

  Whimpering, she scrambled to pull herself through the too-small opening, breaking free of the office door, but still needing to get past the shelf blocking the way.

  Her face and chest scrapped along the hot metal frame and pain flared everywhere she touched. She finally fell onto the bottom rack of the shelf itself and struggled to pull herself to the other side. Though she crawled as quickly as she could, everywhere her skin bumped into the super-heated unit pricked with fierce pain.

  Carlie was beyond worrying about the fire licking the walls around her. She had to get off that metal before her skin burned off. With as much force as she could, she grasped the far side of the bottom rack and jerked herself through, rolling onto the tiled floor beyond.

  More coughs wracked her body and Carlie raised the coat to her face, struggling to get enough oxygen. She felt dizzy and the groaning in the ceiling above her shocked a jolt of fear clear to her toes. If that fell in, she was done for.

  Once she caught her breath as much as she could, Carlie attempted to move forward. She bumped into a wall and then once more into the
shelving unit, only then realizing she went the wrong way. The darkness and smoke completely disoriented her—the flickering firelight only serving to confuse her brain further. No light shone in from the front of the store, and Carlie didn’t know which way led to freedom.

  Another creaking groan sounded and a loud crack.

  Screaming uselessly, Carlie shielded her head with her arms as fiery ceiling tiles and boards rained down on her.

  ***

  Nick’s hands trembled against the steering wheel. He backed the Porsche to the end of the delivery truck lot and took a deep breath. The more time that passed, the more he feared whether Carlie could live through the fire. It felt like an eternity had passed, but it couldn’t have been long because he didn’t hear sirens yet.

  Popping the car into gear, he floored the accelerator, zooming toward the back door. The Porsche rammed into the building, and Nick slammed into his seat belt. His head and chest hit the airbag, which was deflating even before he understood that it deployed. Though slightly dazed and coughing from the powder that came out of the airbag, Nick jerked the car into reverse and floored it again.

  With a horrendous groaning, the front of the car ripped loose of the building and the kitchen door fell outwards. It clattered loudly against the asphalt of the parking lot. Nick hopped out of the car, watching as fire flared from the new opening. By the time he reached it, the flames died down and Nick could see inside the kitchen.

  He had to get in there and find Carlie, plus get away before emergency crews made it there. If he didn’t get her out of town fast, Paul would send Stephen back to finish the job. Assuming Carlie was in good enough condition to leave.

  Taking a deep breath, Nick knew he couldn’t think like that. He would be in time and would rescue her.

  “Carlie!” he screamed into the opening. “I’m coming to get you. Where are you?”

  He listened for a second, but there was no reply. With no time to waste, he shielded his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt and stepped inside. Flickering light revealed most of the room had already burned. Melted plastic and a few fallen pieces of the walls and ceiling littered the counters and floors.

  No Carlie, though, and Nick walked to the hall beyond the kitchen. She was probably in her office. Hopefully the fire hadn’t spread there.

  He turned down the hallway. The heat was even more intense, and fire crackled along the walls. By its eerie light, Nick made out something metal gleaming in front of the office door. That was how Stephen kept her in. Bastard trapped her.

  “Carlie?” Taking a step forward, Nick stumbled over a pile of rubble he hadn’t seen on the floor. He fell to the ground. Hot ash coated his body and his hand struck something soft. Something fleshy.

  “Oh, God. Carlie?” He dug at the hot ashes, trying to find her head. The heat of the flames no longer had any meaning. All he could do was dig.

  Carlie didn’t move.

  Around them, the building groaned, seeming to breathe with fire. Nick was out of time. He had to get Carlie out. He could worry whether or not she breathed once they were in the parking lot.

  He scooped her into his arms and turned for the kitchen. Behind him, more ceiling crashed down and he leapt forward. One headlight on the Porsche still worked, showing the way outside. Though he coughed and his eyes streamed with water from the smoke, Nick jumped the obstacles in their path. He tried not to concentrate on how limp Carlie’s form was in his arms.

  Once at the side of the car, he laid her on the ground. He struggled to clear his lungs of smoke, but Carlie’s chest didn’t rise or fall.

  With shaking hands, Nick checked for a pulse in her neck. He thought he sensed a weak beat, but couldn’t be sure. After tilting Carlie’s head back and plugging her nose, he forced two breaths into her lungs.

  He placed his ear against her chest, trying to detect her heartbeat once again. The adrenaline coursing through him made it hard to focus, but he didn’t want to start chest compressions if her heart was beating. Uncertain, he went back to her mouth and forced more air into her lungs.

  As he moved away, Carlie sucked in a breath on her own and coughed.

  “Carlie, can you hear me? You’re safe now.”

  She continued coughing, but didn’t open her eyes.

  Just then, sirens sounded from further down the road. They had to leave before the rescue crew showed up. They’d never let him take Carlie once they saw her, and he couldn’t risk Paul finding her at a local hospital where the emergency crew would take her.

  He lifted her into the Porsche and drove down a side road, avoiding the main road. The emergency lights flashed in his rearview mirror, but by the time they dealt with the fire, Nick and Carlie would be far down the road. They’d have to get the new car from the 24-hour market—the beat-up Porsche wouldn’t make far.

  Once they were in the sedan, he’d find Carlie medical attention. There was a large hospital in the nearby town of Bellingham. Though he hated the delay, he had to risk driving her there. If they stayed in Sayle, she was as good as dead.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Carlie licked her lips, attempting to moisten them, though her mouth was dried out too. Pain coursed through her body and she wished she would lose consciousness. Curiously, her hands and knees hurt the least, though she knew she burned them both badly on the shelf. The distinctive smell of scorched hair surrounded her.

  She forced her eyes open, looking at Nick. His jaw was hard set and he leaned over the steering wheel in an unfamiliar car. Carlie vaguely remembered him lifting her into the new vehicle, though she lost time as waves of pain hit her.

  Shifting slightly, pain once again erupted in her hands and arms. “Nick?” Her voice was rough and scratchy, though she struggled to keep her tone even. “I need a doctor, really bad.”

  “I know.” He didn’t look at her, but stared at the road. “Here comes the exit. We’ll be at the hospital soon.”

  She closed her eyes, trying to block the pain. The more time passed, the worse it was. A small whimper escaped her lips and she struggled to bite it back. Nick was doing everything he could, and screaming wouldn’t get them to the hospital faster.

  At least she was alive...as long as the assassins didn’t find her again.

  ***

  Nick parked the sedan in the emergency loading zone at the general hospital in Bellingham, leaving Carlie inside. He didn’t dare move her again. Panic fluttered through him at her rough condition, but it would be okay now. The hospital staff would know what to do.

  “I need a doctor!” he screamed, running into the building. “My wife’s in the car and burned horribly. Help her!”

  Although the waiting room was full of people, the receptionist looked up at him with startled eyes. “Bad enough she can’t walk in here?”

  Nick nodded. “There was a fire and a roof collapsed on her. She was conscious for a while, but passed out right as we got here.”

  The lady picked up a phone, talking tersely into it before replacing the receiver.

  Within seconds, a double door swung open and two men raced through, pulling a gurney with them.

  The burlier man’s name tag said ‘Ted,’ and he zeroed in on Nick. “Your wife’s the burn victim? Is she out front?”

  Nick nodded as the men rushed past him, and he followed in their wake.

  Ted pulled open the door to the car, and his coworker shook his head. “Damn.” He exchanged a grim look with the other man and then glanced over his shoulder. “How long ago did this happen and why didn’t you call an ambulance?”

  “I pulled her out of the fire.” Nick tried not to think about how bad things might be. The workers both looked worried. “It’s been about fifteen minutes. Maybe twenty.”

  Although he knew it was important to get Carlie to the hospital quickly, he had to take the few minutes to change cars. The front end of the Porsche was smashed in badly enough, Nick didn’t know if he trusted it on the freeway. Plus, their chances of remaining undiscovered were h
igher in the new vehicle. No one knew about this car except the man he bought it from, and he gave that man a bogus name and paid cash. Nick hoped that would throw Paul off the trail.

  At least it gave Carlie a fighting chance. Staying in Sayle hadn’t been an option.

  The men pulled her from the car and lifted her onto the gurney. Her pain-filled shrieks began when they touched her, and Nick’s body ached with sympathy. He’d heard burns were the most painful thing imaginable. Even the small burn on his hand throbbed enough that touching the steering wheel had been torture. He couldn’t imagine her pain level.

  “What’s her name?” Ted asked as they wheeled her toward the hospital door.

  Her name? He hadn’t thought that far ahead. He couldn’t give their real names, but also didn’t want to use their new identities until they were safely out of the country. He could claim they lost their IDs in the fire, and extra money would ease away any concerns the hospital staff might have. The only question was, what name would she answer to? “Stephanie,” he said after a slight hesitation. “Stephanie Plume.”

  Ted looked down at her as they rolled her inside. “Stephanie, I know you hurt. We’ll get you medicine real soon.”

  Carlie’s shrieks lapsed into small moans and she twisted against the sheet in obvious discomfort.

  Nick hoped they knocked her out before cleaning the wounds. A shudder raced through his body. Could too much pain literally kill her?

  The men ran for the double doors into the hospital proper, but the receptionist called out to Nick. “You can’t go back there. Not yet, sir.”

  Hating to separate from her, Nick stopped obediently. Causing a bigger scene than he already had would get them noticed. They didn’t need that. He watched them roll Carlie down the long hallway until the doors closed and blocked his view.

  “I need your help checking your wife in,” the receptionist said. “First, and most important, they need to know right now if she has any allergies.”