Ride the Fire

by Jo Davis

  “Oh, I’d say after a couple of days’ rest, if he feels up to it. As soon as he’s moved to a room, Dora will let you know. You can all see him—just don’t wear him out.”

  “What about the eleven-year-old boy who was brought in earlier?” Zack asked.

  Dr. Brown nodded. “He made it. A near thing, but I believe he’ll recover, in time.”

  More good news. They understood the doc couldn’t give any other details, but their relief was palpable. Sean hadn’t risked his life for nothing, and the boy’s family would be extremely grateful. A fact that would help soothe their superiors a lot if push came to shove.

  Nothing like good PR to save the day.

  Another forty-five minutes later, Dora gave them Sean’s room number and they took the elevator to the third floor. After some debate, they decided that all five of them converging on him would be too exhausting and too many crowded into the room. Eve and Zack agreed to go first, and stay no more than ten or fifteen minutes.

  When they walked in, Sean appeared to be sleeping. She and Zack quietly took up seats on opposite sides of the bed, simply watching him for a few moments. His brown hair was mussed, dark lashes fanned on his cheeks. The silver at his temples had never been as noticeable as it was now, but she wouldn’t change one hair on his head. She loved him so.

  And she’d nearly lost him.

  She knew Zack was watching her in concern as she took Sean’s hand, rested her free one on top of the covers, on his leg. She couldn’t care less. Her best friend knew the score and the tears burned, some escaping to scald her face and drip onto the sheets.

  “Hey, none of that.” Sean’s throat sounded like he’d gargled with gravel.

  She looked into brilliant green eyes that she hadn’t been certain she’d see again. “It’s your fault, you idiot.” The words held none of the sting she’d intended, instead coming out on a sob and sounding like, “Thank God you’re okay. I was frantic.”

  He heard what she didn’t say, and gave her a wan smile. “I’m sorry.”

  “But you’d do it again.”

  “To save a child? Yes.” His eyes, shadowed with old horror, begged her to understand as he squeezed her hand back. And she did.

  Breaking the silence, Zack asked softly, “How do you feel?”

  “Sorta rough. Headache, and my throat hurts.” He paused as though afraid to know. “Was I in time? Did the kid . . . ?”

  “Dr. Brown said he’s most likely going to recover. You did good, Cap.”

  He coughed a couple of times and seemed to sink into the pillows. “Thank Christ.”

  “Sean, what happened in there, with your SCBA?” Now that the danger was past, this was a serious question that demanded an answer.

  “Ran out of air.”

  “That’s impossible!” Zack exclaimed. “I filled them myself and Clay checked all the equipment this morning.”

  “You’re sure he checked the tanks specifically?” she asked.

  “I’m sure.”

  “Well, it would seem he missed one. Or you did, and he didn’t catch it.” She hated to accuse anyone, but the source of this near-fatal problem had to be hunted down.

  “I’m telling you, every one of those tanks was full. I know it.”

  He was so adamant, she had to believe him. But that left them with no solution. “All right. Let’s inspect the tank when we get back to the station, see if there’s anything wrong. Maybe it had some sort of defect that caused a slow leak.”

  She’d never heard of that happening, but she supposed anything was possible.

  “Thanks, you two. You’ll figure it out. I’m in good hands and everything will be fine.”

  Zack’s brows lifted. “Except for the part where you’ll probably get your ass chewed out and your visits to your shrink extended.”

  “Can’t wait.”

  Eve wiped her face and chuckled in spite of herself and the harrowing afternoon. The man definitely sported a big, steely pair of balls. Once he’d made up his mind to do something, nobody was going to get in his way. That was either good or bad, depending on your viewpoint.

  Good if you were a child in desperate need of rescuing.

  “We’ve got your back,” Zack said. “You know that.”

  “Yeah, I do. You guys have many times, even when I didn’t deserve it.”

  “That’s what family does, or should do, and I consider you mine.”

  Sean looked away for a moment, appearing overcome by that declaration. “Coming from you, that means a lot to me. I feel the same about each of you.”

  Zack smiled. “Group hug?”

  “Not gonna happen.”

  They all laughed, and Sean’s humor ended in an unfortunate bout of coughing. She and Zack looked on in concern as he struggled to regain control of his irritated lungs. Once he was settled again, she smoothed the covers over his chest.

  “I know you’d rather go home, but I’m glad they’re keeping you overnight,” she said.

  “I’d rest better at home. They’re going to poke and prod me around the clock.”

  “Tough. You can sleep tomorrow, at home.”

  “Mean woman.” He yawned.

  “You know it.” She stood. “You’re tired. We’d better let the others have their turn before you pass out.”

  “See you tomorrow, Sean.”

  He lifted a hand and tried to smile, but she saw the smudges under his eyes. The exhaustion. She wanted to stay, take him in her arms, and feel his heart beating against hers. Give him a lingering kiss, reassure herself that he was real. Alive. Not being able to do either of those things was almost physically painful. She thought she saw regret in his expression, too, and somehow that made her feel better.

  She waved back and followed Zack out before she was tempted to make a scene the guys would be talking about for years.

  The way things were going, that day might come sooner than she thought.

  As soon as they pulled into the bay and parked the vehicles, Six-Pack jumped down, calling out, “Line up all the tanks and SCBAs. Show me which ones you wore and which ones were left on the quint.”

  Any problems they should be able to trace from there. When Eve finally had a chance to tell the lieutenant what happened inside the restaurant, he’d been as floored as she and Zack. He immediately agreed an inspection was in order. If the fault lay with any of them, fur was going to fly.

  When they each had their own equipment at their feet, Six-Pack continued. “Check over every crevice of your Air-Pak, hose, and mask. Every piece. Leave nothing unaccounted for.” He paused while they took a few minutes to do as instructed. “Any problems?”

  One by one, they all replied in the negative. Nothing wrong with any of the tanks and masks they’d been wearing.

  “Okay, on to the spares. These were on the quint, side compartment, which was unlocked for easy access given the situation we were dealing with.” He pointed to one that sat slightly apart from the others. “That’s the one Sean grabbed from the quint and wore inside. He said it ran out of air, but he should’ve had the full thirty minutes. I damned well want to know why he didn’t. Everybody grab one and do a check.”

  They got busy. Eve had just started on the one she’d picked when Clay spoke up.

  “Uh, Lieutenant . . . the hose on this one has been cut.”

  Everyone froze, stared at him.

  “What the hell did you say?” Howard strode over and squatted, peering at the part in question. His brows drew together and his mouth flattened. “It’s been sliced, vertically, right between the grooves. Cut almost in two.”

  “This one, also,” Zack said, voice rising.

  “And this one.” Julian slammed his tank on the ground, all sorts of pissed. “What the fuck is going on here?”

  “Mine, too,” Eve put in, staring at the cut in the hose.

  “They all checked out fine this morning, I swear!” Clay cried, glancing around the group. “I know for a fact they were good.”

&nbs
p; The lieutenant checked Sean’s unit last, just to confirm their suspicions. “This one is cut, too. All the extras on the quint were tampered with,” he said, seething with a white-hot rage Eve had never seen. “Which means someone had to have done it while we were all busy and the scene was in chaos. A knife or a pair of cutters, and he only needed seconds to do the job. I’d like to get my hands around his neck.”

  His sentiments were echoed with enthusiasm.

  “What do we do now?” Eve’s question had them all looking to Six-Pack for guidance.

  “I’ll call the chief. He’ll know what to do, who else to notify.” Howard’s father, Fire Chief Bentley Mitchell, was a legend in Sugarland. He was supposed to retire at the end of July, but had postponed the event, much to everyone’s relief. “I have to say, though, I’m flying blind on this. Who the fuck would tamper with a firefighter’s equipment, knowing he could get someone hurt? This is so out of the blue, so vicious. I don’t get it.”

  That statement hit Eve like a fist. Until this second, she hadn’t even considered the events could be connected. Sean might get upset, but the guys had a right to know, under the circumstances.

  “Maybe not so out of the blue.”

  Six-Pack pinned her with his angry gaze. “Explain.”

  She swallowed. “The day Sean returned to work after rehab, he got a nasty phone call. Came in on his cell phone, in his office. The caller asked whether he’d ever thought maybe ‘it wasn’t an accident,’ and when he figured out it might mean the wreck that killed his family, I thought he was going to pass out.”

  The others stood there, watching and silent. Howard appeared more livid every second. She hoped he didn’t stroke out.

  “Has he received any more calls?”

  “No, but he got an equally nasty package at home. Inside was a big bottle of whiskey and a snapshot of the actual wreck as it was burning. Thank God I got there in time to help. . . .” She trailed off, realizing she’d just revealed more about their relationship than she’d intended to do in front of Julian and Clay. From the looks thrown her way, she’d get grilled later. For now, they let it go.

  “Did he notify the police?”

  “Yes. Tommy called Shane, who sent out a detective. After talking with Sean, he decided to take these things collectively as a threat. He took the package and its contents, and he’s going to try and trace the origin of the phone call. It’s a place to start. I’d hoped the guy, or whoever, would just go away, but now I have to wonder if he’s behind the tampering.”

  “Christ Almighty.” The lieutenant scrubbed a hand through his spiky brown hair and blew out a breath. “Okay, I’ll call Dad and this detective—what’s his name?”

  “Taylor Kayne.”

  “Kayne. Right.” He headed for the door leading inside the station from the bay. “Leave all this stuff out and don’t touch it anymore.”

  A strained silence followed his departure.

  Julian spoke up first. “I find out who’s doing this to Sean? I’ll kill him with my bare hands, first chance I get.”

  “You’ll have to stand in line,” Zack told him.

  Sean twisted in the sheets, fevered dreams refusing to give him peace. He’d longed to die, once. To join his family in the beyond, if he believed such a thing was possible. Trouble was, he wasn’t sure he believed in much of anything. Until Eve.

  The feelings he had for her weren’t wrong. Not after the years spent alone, grieving, mired in the bottom of a bottle. He’d done his time, deserved something pure and good.

  So why did he feel so guilty?

  The door opened quietly and a figure stalked to his bed. Like a panther singling out his prey. The man’s face remained in shadow, hidden just there. He felt the weight of the man’s stare, of accusation, before he even spoke.

  “I trusted you,” the man whispered. “Traitor.”

  Sean’s heart pounded in terror. “Do I know you?”

  “As well as you know yourself.” His nemesis gave a bitter laugh. “That’s how you destroyed me, after all.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

  “Don’t you? Don’t you recognize the Reaper when he comes to call?”

  “Get away from me!”

  Another laugh, sinister, as the man opened his shirt to reveal the scar over his heart. “Blew me away, just like I’ll return the favor. Told you I’d make you pay, Sergeant Sean Tanner.”

  “No! Get away from me!” Sean bolted upright in bed, gasping. He clutched the bedcovers, and blinked, trying to get his bearings in the dimly lit room.

  Hospital. He was alone.

  Nightmare. There was no one here with him.

  Just a nightmare.

  Then he wasn’t alone anymore as a nurse hurried inside. “Mr. Tanner? I heard you shouting,” she said, reaching out to grab his wrist and take his pulse. “Way too fast. Are you all right?”

  “Had a nightmare,” he said. As the terror abated, he started to feel stupid. “It was nothing, really.”

  “Must’ve been a doozy. How about I give you something to help you sleep?”

  The whole bottle ought to do it.

  “No, thank you. I’ll be fine now.”

  She didn’t look convinced, but left him alone once more after extracting a promise to buzz her if he changed his mind.

  He wouldn’t. He didn’t want to close his eyes and dream of shattered friendships and betrayals. About vows of vengeance.

  He didn’t want to close his eyes and imagine he’d seen Jesse Rose anywhere. Not in his worst nightmares.

  And not in reality, ever again.

  At some point he must’ve slept whether he wanted to or not. Sean opened bleary eyes to find the fire chief sitting quietly at his bedside, expression worried.

  “About time you joined the living. I’ll ask the stupid question—how do you feel?”

  “Shot at and missed, shit at and hit,” he croaked.

  “I’ll bet. Quite the day you’ve had. Quite the week, in fact.”

  Uh-oh. “Meaning?”

  “Come on, son. Don’t yank my pecker. I know all about the phone call and the so-called gift you got in the mail. When were you planning to say something?”

  “Who told you? Eve?” He stared at Bentley Mitchell, incredulous. “She had no right.”

  “Wait a damned minute before you get pissed. She only told your team and me because of the air tanks being sabotaged. Or, rather, the hoses.”

  “What?” The full import hit, and he sat up, fumbling to push the button and raise the bed some. “The hoses were tampered with?”

  “Yep. Some sumbitch cut all the spares while everyone was busy. You got hold of one, and damned near got killed as a result.”

  His mind reeled. “And Eve thinks this is the next step of his campaign? That he wrecked the tanks on the off chance of hurting me? The bastard couldn’t have known I’d go inside the restaurant, so that doesn’t work as a theory.”

  “True, but he knew someone might need a new tank. I think his goal was to hurt you indirectly, through your team, and that you were an unexpected bonus.”

  Terrific. “I don’t know if the detective will agree—”

  “He does. He said he’d catch up with you later, though.”

  A horrible thought occurred to him. “The explosion at the restaurant . . . Bentley, you don’t think . . .”

  “It was deliberate? We’ll know soon enough.” The man shifted, his serious demeanor telling Sean that he was about to get to the main reason for his visit. “Sean, we’ve known each other for, what? Eighteen years?”

  “Almost. At least as long as I’ve known Howard.”

  He crossed his arms over his massive chest. “And in all those years, I’ve never known you to be impulsive. You’ve always thought out every move, taken command like a born leader. Part of that military background, I suppose.”

  “I guess.” Christ, he felt like a kid in the principal’s office. He knew where this was going.

&
nbsp; “So what in the goddamned hell possessed you to leave your post and put yourself in danger when you have a team waiting for your direction?” He waved a hand, agitated. “No, don’t answer that. I know the reason was the boy, and we could get all into the psychological implications of that shit if we had a few weeks or months to discuss it. Let me rephrase—allowing your team to see you slightly unhinged and going off half-cocked is unprofessional. Worse, it’s dangerous.”

  Lead sat in his gut. “I’m sorry. But all I could think of was the kid, trapped in there. Believe me, it would’ve been more dangerous had I sent someone else and the rescue had failed. Because I would’ve failed by not acting.”

  Bentley sighed, suddenly looking every inch the back side of sixty. “That’s a mindfuck, son. You can’t put that sort of pressure on yourself and hope to make retirement.”

  Sean rubbed the grit out of his eyes and then looked at his mentor. His friend. “Are you here to tell me I’m done? Is that what this is about?”

  “Hell no. Do you want to be done?” Sharp eyes pierced his.

  “No, I don’t. I love my job and I can’t imagine not having the station, the guys. They’re my home,” he said truthfully.

  “You could quit tomorrow, play with your money and live it up.”

  “I’d be dead within the year.” That was no exaggeration.

  “Now you know why I put off retiring,” the older man said, lips quirking. “Though in my case, that feeling isn’t so dire anymore. Which brings me to my point.”

  “You are done,” he said softly.

  “Yeah. End of the year.”

  “Damn.” He swallowed the lump in his throat that had nothing to do with soreness from the smoke.

  “Time to pack my bags and go play in the sand with Georgie. That Alaskan cruise Howard sent us on in July only whetted her appetite for me to be a free man.” He sounded excited, yet his smile was wistful. “It’ll be good to do all the stuff we’ve always wanted, go to the places we haven’t seen. Anyway, as you could guess, I’ve been asked who might make great candidates to fill the vacant positions created by my leaving.”

  Sean sat up, a strange thrill going through him. He couldn’t allow himself to hope this visit meant what he thought. “A domino effect of promotions all the way to the top. I hadn’t given a ton of thought about how it would affect anyone but the man replacing you.” Which would probably be Assistant Chief Lawrence Patrick, though Bentley would never say until the official announcement.