Spencer's Reluctant Rescuer [Rescue for Hire 9] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove)

by Bellann Summer

  Spencer turned to see a Ruger a few steps away. A fierce frown marred his face. “Spencer, get down in the basement now,” he yelled. Right then, the lights went out.

  * * * *

  Ruger’s ears were popping. The whole house shook under the wind’s ferocity. Hail was smashing onto the roof and against the windows. Opening the basement door, Ruger all but carried Spencer down the steps in his hurry to seek safety.

  At the bottom of the steps, Ruger turned and pushed Spencer into the small area underneath the staircase. Both men knelt down and huddled together in the corner.

  Huge thuds and crashes came from above. The house gave an ominous creak.

  “Ruger, do you think we’re going to lose the house?” Spencer asked.

  It was pitch-black in the basement, and Ruger couldn’t see anything, so he ran a hand through Spencer’s blond, silky curls, giving and seeking reassurance. “I hope not,” he answered.

  Spencer laid the side of his face against Ruger’s. In his ear, Spencer whispered, “It’s cliché saying it while we’re in danger, but if something bad happens, I don’t want to have not said it. Ruger Black, I want you to know that I really do love you with all of my heart.”

  “Baby, you tell me that all the time,” Ruger pointed out.

  “I know, but it’s important that I said it.”

  Ruger kissed Spencer’s sweet lips. He got it and understood what Spencer needed. Leaning their foreheads together, he said, “Spencer Rylan, you are the center of my world, and I would give my life for yours. I love you with my entire body and soul.”

  Ruger prayed it was enough for Spencer because, although he felt those feelings toward Spencer all the time, there was a good chance he wouldn’t be saying anything like that again. He just wasn’t a mushy man.

  Spencer cried out. Hands pulled Ruger close, and Spencer’s warm lips began devouring his mouth. Tongues tangled, and a storm built inside Ruger’s body that matched the one outside. He wanted to take Spencer and connect their bodies. But that was not to be.

  Breaking the kiss, Ruger lifted his head and listened. “Spencer, the storm is over.”

  Fingers pulled at his T-shirt. “Let’s go see if we still have a house,” Spencer said.

  Together they went up the steps. The door opened easily, giving Ruger hope that the house was stable and intact. Peering around, he didn’t see any damage.

  “How’s it look?” Spencer whispered.

  “What I can see looks fine,” Ruger said in a normal voice.

  Stepping into the entryway, Ruger continued to scan the kitchen, dining room, and living room. So far, he didn’t see any broken windows and everything was still in its place. Glancing out the window, Ruger paused. Shock coursed through his body.

  Chaos had reigned outside. His gorgeous old oak trees were lying on their sides, roots sticking up in the air. The lawn was littered with a carpet of leaves, twigs, and broken branches.

  “Holy shit,” Spencer whispered behind him.

  Ruger pulled Spencer closer by the back of his neck and kissed him. “Let’s check the house out, and then we can go outside.”

  “Okay.” Spencer gave him a weak smile, and Ruger had to kiss him one more time.

  Ruger didn’t find any damage inside the house. He opened the front door, and the humidity washed over him like a warm, wet blanket. Behind him, Spencer gasped and put his hand into Ruger’s. Lacing their fingers together, Ruger took a deep breath and surveyed their lawn.

  There weren’t as many trees down as he’d originally thought. The majestic walnut tree still stood tall and proud, and although they were battered a bit, a few maple and oak trees had made it through the storm.

  There was a tool shed near the edge where the lawn met the forest. Ruger started toward it, leading Spencer over broken branches and around one of the downed trees, its umbrella-shaped root system sticking in the air.

  They had almost reached the shed when Ruger’s phone rang. Taking it out, he saw Cade Miller’s name on the screen.

  After he had answered it, Cade’s urgent voice rang out. “Ruger, the storm zeroed in on the elementary, middle, and high schools in Granite City. Sheriff Titan called and asked Rescue for Hire to come in and help. We have kids that are trapped and missing. Would you consider joining the team for this rescue? We need you.”

  Ruger’s body jerked, rejecting the images of broken children flickering through his mind. As Ruger stood there, frozen and unable to move, Spencer stepped in front of him and snuggled his warm body against him. Gentle hands caressed his back.

  “You need to do this,” Spencer whispered and placed a kiss on the side of his neck. “This is our home.”

  Ruger straightened, letting resolve fill him. Spencer was right. This was their home and community. Ruger needed to help.

  “Where would you like me?” Ruger asked.

  “Come over here to suit up,” Cade ordered. “Bring Spencer, and he can get a ride with Bret over to Jack and Pip’s house. The electricity is off in the whole county. Jack has backup generators installed in that big house of his that keep everything running. All of our families are heading over there. Spencer is more than welcome.”

  “Sounds good. We’ll be there in a few minutes,” Ruger said.

  After he had ended the call, Ruger stared out into the open field. He knew he could do this. He had rescued people in need a thousand times over the years. But he thought he’d never have to do it again.

  A hand touched Ruger’s face and turned it toward his lover. Ruger truly did love this man.

  “Call Cade back if it’s too much. I’m sorry for pushing you,” Spencer said.

  Ruger took Spencer’s hand and kissed the center of his palm. “It feels different this time,” he said. “Let’s go.”

  * * * *

  Spencer held Bret’s little red-haired daughter’s hand while carrying a small duffel bag in the other and followed Bret into Jack and Pip’s huge modern home. Ruger hadn’t known how long he would be here, so he’d packed a few things in case it ended up being overnight.

  “Welcome,” Pip said, picking up Abbie and giving Spencer a hug. “Everyone is here. Make yourself comfortable, and if you need anything, just ask.”

  “Thanks for having me here,” Spencer said, trying to not gawk at Pip’s huge, spacious house. Was that a pool on the other side of a wall of glass windows?

  Pip waved his hand and smiled. “No problem. We have enough room, and the grannies are here to help keep the chaos to a minimum.”

  An hour later, after exploring the house and playing with the electronic shades in the bedroom he was assigned, Spencer found himself in the kitchen eating a cookie and washing it down with a cold glass of milk.

  The diverse array of people in the house was impressive. Tiny Pip ran the show with a delicate iron hand. Bret was his second-in-command, as the two of them had an obviously deep friendship. Gabriel’s partner, Peter Kenyan, still wore his coveralls from his job maintaining the planes and helicopter Rescue for Hire used. He was quiet, but Spencer noticed he lined up shoes that had been taken off and kept picking up toys and putting them on a fun, colored children’s rug.

  Tall, well-built, and blond-haired, Brad Hayward was Pip’s brother, and other than the hair color, they were as different as night and day. The veterinarian stayed in the background, and when one of the children gave him a toy or talked to him, a sad look came over his face.

  Flynn Wakefield had just arrived about fifteen minutes ago. The big, burly cowboy was pure eye candy. Spencer had a bad boy of his own, but Flynn could stir the imagination with the way his tight jeans hugged his ass.

  “Do you cook?” Leo DeLuca asked.

  Spencer remembered Leo from a cooking show he used to watch years ago until scandal had the man retiring. The world-class chef had an array of bestselling books out on the market. Spencer thought he had heard Leo was Tony’s cousin. He and Spencer had been trading small talk for the last few minutes.

  “Not too w
ell,” Spencer admitted.

  “If you could learn to cook one meal, what would it be?” the handsome chief asked. He had wavy black hair, graying on the sides. The one time Spencer had seen Leo with his partner, Alex, it had been clear Leo was a Dom.

  “I would like to make spaghetti and meatballs that don’t taste anything like they came out of a can,” Spencer stated.

  Leo clapped his hands and laughed. “Wonderful,” he said, his Italian accent strong. “It’s almost time to start dinner, and I will help you learn to make spaghetti with spicy meatballs.”

  “All right,” Spencer said. That was how Spencer was introduced to the confusing world of culinary creativity. By the time he helped prepare breakfast the following morning, he was getting the hang of it.

  For the first time in many years, Spencer felt like he was part of a big, wonderful family.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Parts of the city were wiped out. As the vehicles inched down the streets they would see a block of houses demolished, only to have one house left standing with no signs of damage. The word circling about was that the meteorologists questioned if it was a tornado or sheer winds that had hit the city. Ruger didn’t think it mattered. The destruction had happened, and now they had to help the people.

  Ruger was sweating under the heavy black pants and long-sleeved shirt Cade had given him. He agreed with the theory that they would protect him, but the clothes were still hot as hell.

  The convoy of Rescue for Hire trucks turned toward the North side of the city where the schools were. Cade had informed them that, when they had accomplished all they could at the schools, they would spread out and help where they were needed.

  The mission also included Cade, Jack, and Alex. They usually didn’t go out on rescues anymore, but this was their community. Alex and Rock had their bloodhounds, Bud and Lily, with them.

  Ruger was wearing a headset, and he listened to the guys chattering in his ear. The truck he was riding in turned a corner and came to a stop. Before them, a police barricade was set up, blocking the street.

  The policeman assigned to guard the street saw Cade driving the truck and waved them through. Ruger stared out the window at the war zone they had just entered.

  A hand clamped down on Ruger’s arm, and he automatically flipped his hand up and knocked it off while reaching for his knife attached to his ankle.

  “Whoa, whoa,” Gabriel said, holding up both hands. “It’s all right. I know it looks bad, but so far, there aren’t any reports of casualties.”

  “Get ready, men. The school is up ahead,” Cade’s voice said in Ruger’s ear. “Trucks one and two will stay with me. Four and five will be with Shane.”

  The trucks stopped, and Ruger’s gaze swept over what were once three, two-story brick buildings. Now they were skeletons and heaps of rubble.

  Thousands of sheets of paper littered the ground, turning brown with the dirty rainwater they were soaking up.

  Ruger got out of the truck and pulled on a pair of work gloves. Another barricade had been set up about a hundred yards from the school buildings. Police officers stood in front of the barrier, keeping hundreds of anxious parents from searching the rubble for their children.

  Those parents were currently screaming, crying, and demanding that the officers do something. Ruger realized only an hour had passed since the storm hit, but he wondered why there weren’t more emergency personnel here.

  “Where is the fire department?” he asked into his mic.

  “The elder care facility is on fire. The fire is threatening to spread to the nearby plastics factory,” Shane’s voice said. “Departments from other cities are on their way.”

  The men spread out between what was left of the three buildings. Ruger called out while lifting loose, waterlogged debris out of the way. At one point, he heard one of the dogs braying, telling everyone within hearing that they’d found someone.

  “Help.”

  Ruger stopped moving and listened.

  “Help.”

  “I can hear you. Keep calling so I can find you,” he yelled into a pile of crushed desks, boards, and soaked drywall.

  “Please help. We can’t get out.”

  Ruger lifted a splintered I-beam and shoved aside a desk. Between some twisted two-by-fours, a dirty hand coated in white dust appeared.

  “Help.”

  “I see you,” Ruger gently touched the hand. “My name is Ruger. Can you tell me your name?”

  “Chris Tewson. I want my mom.”

  The little boy’s voice quivered, and Ruger sprang into action.

  The boards were twisted together like a puzzle. It was a slow process of finding the board that was the loosest so he wouldn’t cause any of the others to shift and hurt someone underneath.

  “Chris, are you hurt?” Ruger called out.

  “No, but Shelly and Paula won’t wake up.”

  Ruger lifted a few more boards out of the way.

  “Chris, how many kids are with you?” Ruger breathed through the tension strumming through him and kept clearing out the debris.

  “I don’t know. It’s dark in here, maybe five or six.”

  Ruger kept working. Into his mic, he said, “I have a group of trapped kids. I need backup and an ambulance.”

  “I will be right there,” Gabriel’s voice said in his ear.

  Ruger pulled one last board out, widening the hole where the hand had appeared. Now he saw the wreckage had formed a small cave about two feet high and three feet wide.

  A little boy’s face appeared covered in white drywall dust with a bleeding cut above one eyebrow.

  Ruger knelt down. The little boy jumped into Ruger’s arms, squeezing his neck until he couldn’t breathe. From the cave, more children appeared and joined Chris in a giant group hug of panic and desperation.

  “You’re safe now. Let go, so we can go find your mommies and daddies,” Ruger said.

  Arms loosened their hold, and Ruger stood up. The children latched onto his legs. Dirty tears streamed down their tiny faces. Ruger couldn’t stand it. He sat down on the ground and let the children crowd on and around his lap. They needed him.

  If wasn’t very long before men wearing T-shirts that had Volunteer printed across the front came and took away the children. Gabriel was with them, but he broke away from the group and went to the opening in the debris Ruger nodded to.

  Gabriel’s voice came over the headset after he’d crawled into the hole. “I need some help in here.”

  Free of the children, Ruger went to the opening. Glancing back, he saw more volunteers coming toward him.

  “Ruger, I’m going to hand you a child. If you can give her to a volunteer, tell them to get her to an ambulance as quickly as they can. She’s in trouble,” Gabriel said as he walked on his knees toward him.

  Ruger took the child and turned to hand her off to a waiting volunteer. Turning back, Gabriel was in front of him with another little girl.

  “This is the last one. Hurry, Ruger.” The look in Gabriel’s eyes was solemn.

  Ruger cradled the little girl in his arms and backed out. When he was able to stand, he turned and ran toward an ambulance parked on the other side of the barricades.

  Glancing down, Ruger was reminded of a picture he had once seen, of a fireman carrying a small child from the wreckage of the Oklahoma bombing. This child, too, was wearing shorts and a sleeveless top that hinted at pink under all the dust and dirt that covered her. She also had lost her shoes but was still wearing ankle socks.

  The biggest difference between that child and this little girl was that the sweetie in Ruger’s arms was alive.

  An EMS tech was waiting for Ruger by the open door of the ambulance. Ruger handed the child over, and the man disappeared into the back of the vehicle. Ruger shut the doors tight before pounding on it to let them know they could take off.

  Ruger watched the ambulance leave with lights flashing and sirens screaming. After a moment, he turned back to his comrades, and
for the rest of night until rays of sunshine lit up the morning, he continued to rescue people of his community. And as the hours passed, Ruger’s dark demons were well on their way to being vanquished and his wounded soul healed.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Ruger guided the blade of the chainsaw through the last inch of the tree. With a crack, the tree tipped and fell to the ground. Next he would have to cut the tree up into chunks and load it into the trailer attached to the UTV.

  Turning the chainsaw off, Ruger went over to the UTV and wiped his hands on a rag. Picking up a bottle of water, he let the cool liquid slid down his throat while glancing around the woods looking for his baby.

  Fall in the north woods was in its full majestic palette of color, and Spencer was taking full advantage of it. A camera was never far from his hands.

  At first they had locked heads over Ruger wanting Spencer to resume his craft of taking pictures. Ruger’s temper spiked at one point, and he took Spencer out to the woods and pointed to what he wanted a picture of. Little by little, Spencer gained confidence.

  Yesterday they had found a small empty store next to the flower shop and put a down payment on it. Spencer planned to open a picture gallery of his works, along with offering framing services. It was going to be open only a day or two a week. Spencer’s health was getting better all the time, but he still had a ways to go.

  Grabbing a blanket out of the back of the vehicle, Ruger patted his pocket, making sure the lube was there. Spying his quarry, Ruger took off with long strides, ready for a little afternoon delight in the cool sunshine.

  Spencer was kneeling on one knee, pointing the camera at some kind of purple bug sitting on a yellow and green leaf. Ruger moved next to Spencer with his legs spread slightly.

  “Hello, baby,” he said.

  Spencer’s green eyes widened when he looked up into Ruger’s face. His lips curved into a soft smile, and he laid the camera on top of a stump near his elbow.