by Teagan Kade
That’s what separates me from lowlifes like him. How dare he make me feel like we’re the same?
I just have to think.
The fumes are becoming too much. They’re scrambling my brain, making it impossible to think clearly. My arms and wrists scream with pain.
I’m too disoriented to move them the way they need to go.
My thoughts drift to my mother. I know she’ll go to the police when she hears what happened. Travis will not get away with this.
Yet it’s a cold comfort.
Derek will help her collect evidence from the smoldering remains here. Officer Brady will put everything through rushed processing.
I’ll have justice.
God, this is so fucking morbid, I realize.
As if to say a final ‘fuck you,’ Travis splashes a little gasoline on my face. I gag from the taste.
“I heard it only hurts for a moment,” he simpers. “Once all your nerve endings burn up, you’ll feel nothing.”
“Go to hell,” I spit out.
I’m so dizzy. Inhaling all these fumes will probably kill me before the fire does. Another cold comfort.
I can’t see Travis anymore. My vision is too blurry. I hear the quick scratch of a match, the small whoosh of a flame igniting.
But then I hear another sound. It sounds like splintering wood, but I can’t think of anything that would make that noise. I must be hallucinating.
“Make one single fucking move and I will fucking end you.”
That voice.
I know that voice.
“Derek,” I croak.
And it’s right then Travis drops the match.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
DEREK
My fingers tighten involuntarily around the windowsill. Painfully. It’s all I can do not to rip the board clean off as I watch the bastard splash gasoline directly into Beth’s face.
I knew something looked off about the guy. I knew I was right to stick around. I had barely settled into my car when I saw him casually strolling up to Beth’s door.
Something about him immediately set alarm bells ringing.
For a moment, brief but persistent, I considered leaving anyway, just driving off and leaving Beth to deal with her own mess.
Thank God I’m learning to shut down my inner bastard. Thank God for the years of fighting fires that have honed my instincts.
It’s gotta be the boyfriend, I thought as I slipped from my car. It’s gotta be that fucking Travis idiot.
Any gratitude towards my instincts is forgotten now, though, swallowed whole by my building rage. I’ve never felt anything quite like it—pure, unadulterated anger seems to course through my veins in an instant, hot and burning.
As I walk towards the front door it only seems to grow, wave after wave of fury pouring into me.
It’s not like I’ve never been mad before. I’ve been in my fair share of scuffles—come out ahead more often than not, too.
Despite that, it’s not exactly a secret I’m more of a lover than a fighter. I typically prefer to get my bruises from more intimate pursuits.
All of that fades the moment I set eyes on this guy. The idea of this piece of shit harming Beth has given me a whole new understanding of the term ‘blood boiling.’ My blood is fucking molten, my heart jack hammering wildly in my chest like a twenty-ton press.
I don’t even think as I raise my foot to the solid oak of Beth’s door. No, this part’s pure instinct. Breaking through the barriers, saving the people on the other side, this is well-worn territory. I just don’t usually want to rip someone’s head off when I get to the other side.
The door gives way easily to my rage. It flies inward with a sound like an explosion, shards of wood fanning out wildly like shrapnel. I’m right on their heels, stepping through the entryway in one long stride.
“Make one single fucking move, and I will fucking end you.” The words erupt from me in a growl, my teeth grating against each other in anger.
I’ve never meant anything more in my life. In fact, a part of me hopes he will move, that he’ll force my hand, give me the excuse I need to tear him apart.
“Derek,” Beth says, shock heavy in her voice.
Like Travis, she turns toward me, her reddened eyes clearly trying to hone in on my location. The sight of her struggle only fuels my rage.
The bastard holding the match beside her has the nerve to smile, a shit-eating grin that perfectly displays the level of apathy he feels towards dental health. His yellow-and-silver teeth flash at me. God, I want nothing more than to wipe the foolish smirk from his face.
In the same moment he drops the lit match.
“Derek!” Beth screams, her feet pulling back instinctively.
I’m already moving as the match hits the ground, flying towards the already sparking flame.
Frenzied, I grab for the nearest cloth, a blanket draped across the couch, and throw myself between her and the steadily growing fire. With a practiced motion, I fling my arms wide, dropping the fabric neatly atop the threat. The majority of it smothers instantly, all but the barest trail that continues to crawl toward the loveseat, towards a nearly panicked Beth.
My boot makes quick work of it, extinguishing the threat before it can so much as scorch her shoe. It the fumes I’m more worried about, but I don’t plan on hanging around here long.
I hear Beth’s sigh of relief, but I don’t stay still to hear what comes next. My attention is already flashing back toward Travis, the asshole whose smug grin seems to have disappeared with the fire.
He stares dumbly at me for a moment, mouth agape in an expression of shock that would be funny under any other circumstance.
“Motherfucker,” he finally spits, eyes flaring back to life, “I’ll kill you for that.”
Challenge accepted.
He moves surprisingly fast for someone so age-challenged. By the time I’ve opened my mouth to try for a comeback, he’s already on me, fists flying.
Lucky for me, I’m not as slow as you might expect either.
It’s an easy mistake to make, looking at me. A fair assumption to assume that anyone burdened with so much mass must be slow. Years of fighting fires have trained that out of me, though.
I step under his first swing, taking the opportunity to close the gap between us. His second catches me in the ribs, but I hardly feel it with the adrenaline crashing through me.
To his credit, he manages to backpedal in time to save him from a truly devastating left hook.
But he’s not fast enough to miss the right.
My fist crashes into his temple at full speed, my knuckles meeting his skull with an audible crack. He sways under the pressure but rights himself enough to try for another blow of his own.
I block it easily, sending another right hook towards his exposed head. Someone should really teach this guy about the merits of a good defense.
He can’t keep his feet this time. He falls with a crash, his back meeting Beth’s floor before he can so much as try to stabilize. I don’t give him a second to recover. I’m on him before he even knows he’s fallen.
Still with some fight left, he wriggles like a hooked fish, his legs kicking spasmodically, arms flying up in a too-late attempt to block.
It does nothing to slow me, to calm me. My fury has reached a violent peak, and only the sensation of my fists repeatedly crashing into him seems to sate it.
Fucking piece of shit.
He’s unconscious in a matter of moments, limbs falling limply to his side. Some part of me, some primal, animal core, urges me to continue, to beat him until he can no longer breathe, yet alone touch Beth.
It’s only the thought of her name that stays my hand.
Beth.
I whirl around, finding her where I left her, her swollen eyes looking at me with a mix of shock and gratitude. I’m beside her in a flash, kneeling on the scorched carpet where her feet now rest.
“Fuck, are you okay?”
She nods, tear
s rolling down her reddened face. I can’t tell if they’re from fear or the sting of gasoline, but the sight of them gets me furious all over again.
“Are you sure? Did he hurt you?”
She struggles for a moment before answering, her lips trembling around the words.
“No,” she finally answers. “I’m okay, really. Everything’s just a bit blurry.”
I reach up to her. She closes her eyes as I run my thumbs gently across them.
“It’ll be okay. We’ll get you loose and then rinse them, okay?”
She nods again, turning slightly to show me her binds. My fingers make quick work of the rudimentary knots, freeing her in a moment.
She groans as she pulls her arms back around, looking confusedly at the rope burns at her wrists.
“My arm’s a little sore, but I don’t think it’s dislocated.”
“Good. We’ll call Officer Brady and have him bring an ambulance to get you checked out, just in case.”
“Officer Brady?” I can hear the tinge of fear in her voice.
“It’s going be okay, Beth.” I try to sound confident even though doubt stirs in my head.
I stand and walk back to Travis’ unconscious form, rope still clenched in my hand. “Can you get to the bathroom?”
“Yeah, it’s already getting better.”
“Okay, why don’t you go rinse your eyes? I’m going tie this fucker up in case he comes to.”
“Okay.”
She stands shakily. I move to go to her, but she raises a hand to still me.
“Really, I’m okay.”
Her steps become surer as she crosses to me, not stopping until she hovers before Travis.
Then, as she tends to do, she surprises me entirely.
“Motherfucker!” she spits, pulling back her foot to place a solid kick into his ribs. “Fucking asshole!” Another, harder kick.
I can’t help but smile as she turns towards the hall, muttering as she goes on about “rotten-toothed pricks.”
Beth has emerged from the bathroom by the time Officer Brady arrives, still looking a puffy around the eyes but claiming her vision is fine.
I take her word for it, though my now-familiar worry for her won’t quite seem to recede.
Brady crosses the threshold with a look of shock, his eyes quickly roving from the scorched carpet to the unconscious man currently hogtied across from it.
“Someone want to tell me what the hell is going on here? ’Cause this is one hell of a weird swingers’ party.”
I see the look of utter defeat that crosses Beth’s face, the resigned slump of her shoulders. She opens her mouth to speak, but I beat her to the punch.
“Yes. Thank you for coming, Officer. I can tell you exactly what happened.”
He gestures for me to continue as Beth turns a stunned expression my way.
“I was just leaving Beth’s earlier when I noticed this guy approaching. Given what she’s been through lately, I was immediately suspicious. After debating in my car a minute, I decided to look through the window, if nothing else to assure myself everything was alright.”
“And?”
“And it wasn’t. This asshole had her bound and was dumping gas in the living room, obviously crazed.” I point to the burnt carpet for emphasis. “I broke through the door and managed to stop the fire before it spread. We got into an altercation, and I knocked him out. After freeing Beth, I figured it’d be safest to hog-tie him up until you got here. The guy’s clearly out of his mind.”
Brady runs a hand through his hair, sighing, before crossing to the damaged rug. He kneels a long moment beside it, hand reaching out to dab at the gas before raising it to his nose.
Given his silence, I choose to continue. “Now, I’m not a police officer, but judging from what just happened, I’d say it’s pretty clear we’ve found the asshole who started the first fire.”
The silence is deafening, broken only by a nearly inaudible gasp from Beth’s direction.
I don’t turn, instead keeping my eyes solely focused on the cop I’m currently lying to.
I know I’ve shocked her. Hell, I’ve just shocked myself. But what can I say? When you know, you know. It might have taken me a minute and a poorly timed storm-out, but I now know Beth is worth it. I won’t let be ripped away from me, not now.
Beth is worth it. The risk, the lie—she’s worth everything.
I need her. Only her.
A sigh. “This is un-God-damn-believable,” Officer Brady finally says, standing to face me. My heart jumps into my throat, strangling me from within. “Thank God you decided to check. This could have ended badly, very badly.”
It’s all I can do not to collapse in relief. “Yes, absolutely, thank God.”
“I’m glad you’re all right, miss,” he says, turning to Beth. “And so far as the first fire is concerned, I’ll need to look over a few things, but I’m inclined to agree with the word of your friend here. This seems pretty straightforward.”
“Yes,” she chokes out, “absolutely.”
He gives her a small smile. “I’m sorry we’ve had to put you through so much; just following protocol. But rest assured we’ll get this animal off the streets and far away from anyone, especially yourself.”
“Thank you,” she answers him, but her eyes pull towards me in a way that speaks volumes.
A groan sounds from the floor. We all turn to see Travis begin to squirm.
“Ugh,” he mutters, his words muffled by the carpet, “whutdafuck happened?”
“I should get him out of here,” Officer Brady says, exhaling. “I’ll need the two of you to come down to the station tomorrow for official statements. For tonight, try and get some rest, yeah?”
“We will, Officer,” Beth says. “Thank you again.”
We stand side by side, silently watching as a still bound Travis is led from the house, his slurred speech hinting strongly at a concussion. The thought gives me great pleasure.
“Rot in hell,” Beth says, the door closing behind him before we’re blissfully, wonderfully alone.
“My place?” I offer, sniffing at the air.
“After you,” she smiles.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
ELISABETH
Travis—This may have been my first time meeting the guy, but something tells me it’s also going to be my last. He’ll be going away for a long time. I can’t imagine the police take too kindly to attempted murder these days.
I can’t believe this ordeal is finally over. I mean, I’ll still have to make a statement, sure, but as for the insurance fraud charge? I’m pretty sure I’m in the clear given Derek was there to save the day and corroborate my story. The word of a distinguished firefighter will be enough.
Not only am I pretty much guaranteed to be off the hook for the original fire, but I think this will be a good opportunity for my mother and I to finally get closer.
Maybe.
Her tricking me into committing insurance fraud isn’t exactly the best precursor to a healthy mother-daughter relationship, but hey, everyone’s got to start somewhere, right?
Right now, though, all I can focus on is the fact that I’m safe and that Derek is the sole reason things are working out. It pains me to think of him putting himself in that position because of my actions, but I likely wouldn’t be standing here if it weren’t for him.
I turn to face him. As soon as my gaze meets his, I nearly collapse from all the stress, the events of these past few days finally catching up to me.
“Woah, woah!”
Before I know it I’m in Derek’s arms as he catches me from falling. I allow myself to relax into his touch.
“I’m so sorry, Derek,” I murmur against him, my hands gripping his shirt, “and thank you. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t—”
He cuts me off with a kiss, tilting my chin up with his finger as his lips capture mine. I sigh into his kiss. My hands find their way into his hair, deepening our embrace as I tug and rake
my hands through it.
He breaks our kiss and presses his forehead to mine with a grin on his face. His hand is on my cheek, his thumb playfully tugging at my bottom lip.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper again. “This is all my fault. You could get into so much trouble. I don’t want that.”
“I don’t either, Beth,” he croons with a smile, “but you don’t have to worry about that. It’s over. Travis is going to go down for this shit, and my girl’s safe and sound.”
Oh, God. Who knew that two simple words could send someone into a reeling, breathless mess? But there it is.
My girl.
“Your girl, huh?” I tease, prodding him in the chest.
He rolls his eyes and kisses me again. I feel the sting of tears in my eyes, my emotions and adrenaline still running high from what happened with Travis earlier.
“Look, Derek, I know what kind of position it put you in to be there for me tonight. I just want you to know I really appreciate it. I really, really appreciate you.”
I bring my hands to his chest and lay my head against him, the piney scent of his cologne filling my senses as I sigh and relax.
“I know we haven’t known each other very long, but I feel connected to you, you know? Maybe it’s the fire, maybe it’s all this bullshit with Travis, maybe it’s all of it, but I do know I couldn’t have gotten through it without you. Wouldn’t want to, either.”
I take a breath and will the tears away when I feel their familiar sting, an apology spilling from my lips as quickly as I can without letting the flood gates open in full.
“And I’m sorry I lied to you. It wasn’t fair to put you out like that. I should have just been honest. It’s not right.”
“Hey, hey,” he soothes, tucking a stray piece of hair behind my ear, “I’m glad I was here, and don’t worry about it. You were doing what you thought you had to do to help your family. You did what you thought was right. I’m sorry I stormed out of here in a huff. I needed a minute to process things.”
He looks down at me, gazing into my eyes, as if he’s trying to hold back from saying something he shouldn’t. When he finally speaks again, his voice is low and barely above a whisper, almost like he thinks the words will have more connotations the louder they are.
