by Kayla Perrin
The flames were growing, and people were lining sidewalks, frantic. “Do something!” someone cried. “He’s gonna die!” another person yelled.
Hunter ran across the street to his car and quickly popped the trunk. He grabbed the tire iron, then darted back to Paul’s vehicle. Still no movement from him inside. He was definitely unconscious.
Hunter shielded his face and then busted the back window open. He quickly pulled up the lock, opened the door and slipped into the back seat. Flames were flickering through the dashboard. The heat was already intensifying. This car was going to blow. Hunter knew it.
He didn’t have much time. He reached around to the front to undo Paul’s seat belt, and thankfully it gave. He heaved, straining, trying to pull Paul’s body backward.
The flames suddenly roared, growing bigger, and Hunter knew there was no more time left. With a primal groan, he heaved Paul’s body, and felt a jolt of relief when his body began to move. Quickly, Hunter pulled Paul from behind the air bag, until the other man’s body slumped against his in the back seat.
The flames grew into a fireball, as if reaching to ensnare the two of them in the back seat. Someone screamed. Hunter tried to back his way out of the car.
And then someone was there, helping him. “I got you,” a man said. As Hunter’s lower body slipped out of the car, the man wrapped an arm around Hunter and pulled on him, while Hunter yanked on Paul. And then, at last, all three men fell onto the ground. Hunter quickly scrambled to his feet and dragged Paul away. “Get back, everyone!” Hunter yelled, surprised that so many spectators were far too close to the car.
Someone sprinted toward the car with a fire extinguisher. And the next second, the sound of sirens began. Oh, what a wonderful sound that was.
Hunter felt Paul’s wrist for a pulse, and finding one, he blew out a relieved breath. The pulse was weak, but it was there. Hunter then searched Paul’s body for any visible signs of broken bones or other obvious injuries. He found none other than the gash to his head and an askew elbow, which told him that it was broken.
The fire truck rounded the corner, followed by the ambulance, and people got out of the way. In a flash, firefighters were jumping off the pump truck and quickly running toward the burning vehicle.
“Over here!” Hunter called when the paramedics jumped out of their vehicle, and the man and woman hurried over to Paul.
“My name is Hunter Holland, I’m a firefighter at Station Two. The victim’s got a broken elbow, and a laceration to the head. He was conscious when I first got to the scene, but not anymore. His pulse is weak.”
The paramedics began to work on Paul. One of the firefighters approached Hunter and said, “Great job getting him out of there. You saved his life.”
Hunter gave the man a nod, then stepped back into the crowd and watched them all do their jobs. And he felt a sense of pride knowing he was a part of this family of fine Ocean City firefighters. It felt good to be home, back where he belonged.
Hunter’s gaze wandered across the street, taking in the sight of the growing crowd. His eyes landed on a familiar face.
Lorraine’s.
* * *
Lorraine watched the drama unfold with a sense of horrified disbelief. Indeed, she could hardly fathom what was happening. The last several minutes felt like a strange nightmare.
Even from outside her vandalized storefront, where she’d been standing with the two women, she could hear the commotion the block over. The crashing boom, followed by screams. And her stomach had dropped, terror constricting her chest so badly she couldn’t draw breath for several seconds.
Hunter!
He must have collided with Paul’s car!
There was an alley that led from Keele Street directly through to Twelfth Street. Paul had taken a right at the corner, then had to have taken another right, which had put him almost directly behind her store on the next parallel street over. It couldn’t be a coincidence that Hunter had gone after Paul, and now there’d been a crash on Twelfth so loud that she’d been able to hear it.
Lorraine started to sprint, her only thoughts on getting to Hunter. Tears sprang to her eyes as fear clawed at her chest. Please, God, let him be all right!
Paul’s crushed car was the first thing she’d seen when she exited the alleyway onto Twelfth Street, and she’d gasped at the sight. Her terror rose. God, no! Hunter...
Intense pain gripped her stomach. Lorraine threw her hands over her lips, fear threatening to overwhelm her. Her eyes volleyed back and forth over the horrifying scene. And that’s when it clicked that Paul’s car was smashed into a different vehicle, not Hunter’s. An older gentleman was at the back of a damaged red SUV, and he was looking from his vehicle to Paul’s. Lorraine could hear frantic cries and jumbled chatter. But where was Hunter?
She saw him at the same time that she noticed the flames underneath the hood of Paul’s car! Hunter was at the driver’s side of Paul’s vehicle, and he seemed to be struggling with the door.
Her heart almost seized in her chest.
She flinched when Hunter smashed the window, and her stomach bottomed out when Hunter went into the back seat of the car.
“No, Hunter,” she protested, but her words were a mere whisper.
“Oh, my God, they’re both going to die!” someone beside her in the crowd yelled.
The flames roared to life, and a scream erupted in Lorraine’s throat. The stranger in the crowd was right. Hunter was going to die. So was Paul.
Lorraine stood, unable to move, her body trembling, as she watched for what seemed like the next few hours. And at last, Hunter emerged from the car with Paul, both of them falling onto the sidewalk. Hunter quickly got to his feet and pulled Paul several feet away.
Was Paul dead? He wasn’t moving. Lorraine’s heart pounded furiously. No matter that Paul had been an incredible jerk to her, she didn’t want him to die.
The crowd filled in around her, and the action around her was distorted through her tears. Then the emergency responders were arriving. She heard Hunter barking out orders to the crowd. All the while Lorraine could hardly breathe.
And then, suddenly, Hunter was looking at her. She registered the paramedics loading Paul onto a gurney, and felt a rush of relief. He was alive. He had to be.
Amid the chaos surrounding them, the flashing lights of the cop cars, fire trucks and ambulance, Hunter started toward her. He took long, determined strides, and despite the myriad of emotions swirling throughout her, she couldn’t help thinking that Hunter looked so heroic. Strong. Fearless. He’d just gone into a burning vehicle to save Paul’s life.
Her heart fluttered as he neared her, and then fresh, hot tears spilled onto her cheeks. She pushed through the people surrounding her and rushed toward him. “Oh, Hunter!”
She threw herself at him, and he pulled her into a warm, strong embrace. She cried, relief rushing through her in waves.
“Hunter, are you—”
“I’m fine,” he told her.
Lorraine’s body shook, and Hunter held her tighter. She never wanted him to let her go.
She finally eased back, but ran her hands down his arms because she didn’t want to stop touching him. Her hand ran over the wet, sticky substance on his skin. She quickly looked at him, alarmed. There was a huge gash on his forearm.
“You’re bleeding!” she exclaimed.
“I’ll be fine.”
She touched his face, emotion filling her chest as she did. How close had she come to losing him?
“And Paul...?” she asked.
“He’s alive. I couldn’t determine any life-threatening external trauma, and the air bag went off, saving him from worse injury. He’s unconscious right now, but I think he’ll be okay.”
Had all of this really just happened? Or was Lorraine in the middle of a ni
ghtmare?
Hunter looked down at her. “How long has he been harassing you?”
“He hasn’t. I thought he’d finally decided to leave me alone. After you talked to him at the pool, I hadn’t heard a peep from him.” Lorraine suddenly gasped. “Oh, my God, the women! Paul threw a rock through the window and hit one of them. I was so frantic when I heard the crash, I just ran. I—I had to get to you.”
“I’m sure they called for help. But I can make sure an officer goes over there to check on them.”
“Hunter, I was so worried!” Lorraine raised her hand to stroke his face again, but he abruptly pulled back, out of her reach.
Her eyes narrowed and her stomach tightened. His lips were taut, his body suddenly rigid. Was he upset with her?
She tried to make eye contact with him, and got her answer when he glanced away. He was upset.
“Hunter—”
“You’re going to need to speak to the cops. Explain what happened.” He paused, his jaw tightening. “You want to have contractors give you estimates, that’s your right. The problem is, I keep asking you to include me—not because I want to control you or your decisions. But because I want to be a part of your life. But you keep excluding me, obviously because you don’t want the same thing I do. You’d think by now I’d get a clue.”
Lorraine’s lips parted. Now she understood. He must have spoken to Diane, and he was upset with her for keeping him in the dark about the business.
“I just—” she began, but didn’t know what to say.
“Needed time, I know. Funny thing was, I kept expecting that you’d actually call me back. At least give me the courtesy of telling me you wanted nothing to do with me.”
Lorraine’s eyes bulged. “What? No, Hunter. That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it?” he challenged. “Look, if you felt weird about me helping you with the business, you could have told me that. I’d get it. The point is, just tell me what you really want.”
Was that what he was asking her to do right now? Lorraine’s lips parted, but she couldn’t form any words.
Hunter’s jaw tightened. “Look, we need to go talk to a cop.” He exhaled loudly. “Explain what happened. Paul’s going to need to be charged.”
He turned, but Lorraine quickly placed a hand on his arm. The feel of his hard muscles and her body’s visceral reaction to him shocked her. Even now, just touching him stoked her attraction for him.
But he wasn’t halting, and she had to press her fingers into his arm. “Hunter, wait?”
He faced her. “Wait? For what?”
His question was clear, and yet Lorraine couldn’t give him an answer. Even now, she wanted to guard herself from the pain love could cause.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” Hunter said. “But had you involved me today, even just as a friend, none of this would have happened. Paul wouldn’t have gone on the attack if I’d been there.”
“He’s crazy. He would have lashed out another time.”
Hunter didn’t look upset anymore, just disappointed—which was worse. “I like you, Lorraine. And when a man likes a woman, he wants to help her. That’s all I wanted to do. But you keep shutting me out. You want to know what went through my mind when I saw the window of your store crashing, then saw Paul running away? In that split second before you came out the door...” Hunter’s voice trailed off, and his face contorted. “I’ve never been so scared. I thought you were hurt, or worse.”
There was pain in his eyes, and it tore at her heart. He really did care about her. Why was she so afraid of their connection?
“Hey!” Hunter yelled, flagging down the cop who was approaching the crowd. “Officer, we need you for a minute.”
The officer smiled at him. “I hear you saved the man’s life,” the cop said.
“I got him out of the car,” Hunter said. “I’m a firefighter with Station Two.”
“So that’s why you ran into a burning car.”
“Occupational hazard,” Hunter explained. Then, “The incident started before the crash, however. The man transported to hospital is my friend’s ex-husband. He’s been harassing her, and only moments earlier vandalized her store. I gave chase when he was trying to escape, and that’s when he crashed into the red SUV. My friend and I will both need to speak to officers to give our statements.”
Friend. My friend... Lorraine felt sick.
The officer turned to Lorraine. “I can take your statements. Which one of you wants to go first?”
Lorraine looked at Hunter, into his eyes that were filled with hurt. “Hunter,” she said, her voice cracking.
“You talk to this officer. We’ll talk later.”
And when Hunter walked back over to the emergency responders, Lorraine’s heart felt as if it were breaking.
Hunter wanted nothing to do with her. And it was all her fault.
Chapter 22
The despair Lorraine felt over the next several days was indescribable. Hunter’s words, the disappointment in his eyes, replayed in her mind over and over again. Not until he’d made it clear just how afraid he’d been that she’d been hurt, or worse, had she realized just how deeply he cared for her. Likewise, she’d discovered that day just how much she cared for him.
Those moments as she’d raced down the alleyway, fearing that he had been killed in a car crash, had been the worst moments of her life. And the relief upon learning that he was okay had been profound. All she’d wanted to do was throw her arms around him, hold him forever and tell him that she loved him.
But things didn’t play out that way. Fear still had her in its grip. Her relationship with Paul had made her afraid to trust. She kept believing that what she and Hunter had was too good to be true. Doubt had become an anchor, holding her down.
Days after the horrible incident, however, Lorraine had come to realize that she was her own worst enemy. She was letting the actions of another man keep her from a good one. She was finally truly ready to let Hunter in. She had tried to reach out to him, but he’d ignored her.
She kept hoping with each day that passed that Hunter would respond to her, tell her that he was willing to talk, as she’d asked in her calls and texts to him. But a good week after the event, there had been nothing.
When Lorraine’s phone rang, she quickly threw off the covers and scooped it up. The hope that Hunter was finally calling was deflated when she saw Rosa’s face and number flashing on her screen.
For a moment, Lorraine debated not answering it. She was curled up in bed with a bowl of salt-free kale chips, which she’d dehydrated herself. No more junk food to get her through rough patches.
Nor alcohol. In fact, maybe she ought to go for a swim.
Lorraine pushed the bowl aside and let the call go to voice mail. She settled back on the pillow with a heavy sigh.
Her phone trilled, indicating she had a text. Lorraine looked at the screen, and couldn’t help laughing when she read Rosa’s words.
If you don’t answer the phone when I call again, I’m going to head to your townhouse with the entire Ocean City police department. Don’t make me take extreme measures to find out whether you’re dead or alive!
And less than thirty seconds later, Rosa called again. Lorraine answered the phone on the first ring. “I’m alive,” she said without preamble.
“Well, thank God. But in all seriousness, are you okay?”
Lorraine blew out a frazzled breath. “I’m not okay,” she admitted.
“I guess you haven’t heard from Hunter.”
“No. And it’s pretty obvious I never will again.”
“And what are you gonna do about that? Just accept it?”
“He was all but begging me to tell him that I cared for him at the crash scene, and I couldn’t. I have to accept that I blew it and move
on.”
“Really?” Rosa asked, her tone doubtful. “You’re just gonna give up, not even fight?”
“You can’t force someone to love you.”
“No, but you can push away someone who cares.”
“I know I screwed up, but I’ve tried letting him know that I care. He won’t even have a conversation with me.”
“You let what Amanda said totally get to you. Suddenly, you went from being happy and hopeful to guarded and glum. I get that you wanted to focus on your business, but you know you figuratively closed the door in Hunter’s face. Don’t you think he could be feeling insecure, too? Despite what you’re saying now?”
“But I’ve reached out to him. He totally doesn’t want to talk.”
“So just give up, right? That’ll really prove to him that you want to work things out.”
“How do I get him to listen to me?” Lorraine asked. “It’s not like I’m about to write everything I’m feeling in a text. We need to have a conversation, but if he won’t talk to me...?”
“Well, girl, put your thinking cap on. I’m sure you can figure out a way to get his attention. Because unless you want to gain fifty pounds eating potato chips over the next few months, you’d better figure out a way to make him hear you out.”
“I’ll have you know I’m eating kale chips,” Lorraine countered. “Rosa? Rosa?”
But the line was dead.
* * *
“Mr. Finkel will see you now.”
Hunter rose from the plush chair in the waiting room and followed the secretary down the hallway. He was surprised when she led him into the boardroom, not the lawyer’s office.
Joe rose from his seat at the table, extending his hand. “Good to see you again, Hunter. I’m glad you could make it on such short notice.”
“You said it was urgent.”
Joe nodded. “It is.”
The lawyer had briefed him on the phone. Hunter’s uncle was disputing the will, fighting over a property that he believed he had rights to, not Hunter.
“All right.” Hunter took a seat. “Lay it on me.” Perhaps he should have reached out to his uncle, but a lot had happened since he’d gotten back to town. Most notably, he’d been distracted by his relationship with Lorraine. A relationship that had crashed and burned as quickly as it had started.
