His instincts were humming. He needed to get her out of here now. “Peyton—”
The rest of his words were drowned out by the shrill blare of the fire alarm. He’d wanted to activate it earlier, but this wasn’t him—unless he possessed untapped telekinesis powers that he didn’t know about. He tugged her to her feet and tucked her under his arm. “Come on. Stay close.”
People were screaming and rushing for the exits. If it wasn’t a life or death situation, he’d find humor in how quickly the dignified could turn decidedly undignified, pushing and shoving others out of the way in a rush to reach safety. It was every man for himself.
Smoke had started to fill the gymnasium, causing more panic. As they neared the exit, he realized it could be a trap. Send them outside so the shooter could take potshots again. But they couldn’t stay inside and risk being barbequed. They’d have to take their chances fleeing the building.
Someone cried out behind them. Every instinct he possessed urged him to get Peyton out of there and the hell with the others. But his sense of honor wouldn’t let him leave another person in distress, especially since the smoke had thickened and coalesced into an ominous black cloud. Tugging Peyton with him, he turned to see Martha, the woman Peyton introduced as the assistant director, on the floor in obvious pain while others sidestepped around her, some even jostling her mercilessly in their haste to flee
“Martha,” Peyton gasped as they rushed to her side. “Are you hurt?”
“I think I broke my ankle,” she cried. “I-I can’t walk.”
They didn’t have time to wait for help to arrive. The risk of smoke inhalation was a very real possibility. He scooped Martha in his arms, careful of her damaged foot. She clung to him, her body racking with sobs as she thanked him for not leaving her to die.
“Stick to me like white on rice,” he told Peyton as they made their way outside. It was hard to tell where the exit was through the smoke, but Peyton guided them until they reached blessedly fresh air. First responders were already gathering in front of the building, red and blue lights swirling. He carried Martha to the first ambulance that arrived in the parking lot.
One of the medics hopped out and ran to open the back doors. He placed Martha on the gurney and then jumped down, finding Peyton and gathering her close.
“Let’s go.”
This time she didn’t question not staying to speak with the authorities. He ushered her to the SUV and lifted her inside before he moved to the driver’s side. Just before he opened the door, he glanced back at the chaos surrounding the community center, his gaze zeroing in on Mark as he stood with his arms crossed, watching them leave.
Chapter Seven
Peyton’s hands were shaking, so she clasped them together in her lap to hide the reaction from Noah. He was so sure, so competent. He’d known exactly what to do in a time of crisis. She hadn’t heard Martha cry out and it scared her to think that the sweet woman might’ve been left behind to die if Noah hadn’t gone back for her.
It proved what kind of man he was that he would run back into unknown danger to rescue someone. She knew getting her out of the building had been his total focus, but he couldn’t let a person suffer. It was the kind of thing her brother would do, too. She tried not to think of the danger Owen faced each day he wore a uniform. He’d seen and done things that most people couldn’t fathom. Noah had, too. Heroes. That’s what they were. Bonafide heroes.
More emergency vehicles were filling the lot, dodging cars trying to beat a hasty retreat. Noah had parked close to an exit, so they were able to get out before the cops barred anyone from leaving, which they were now doing.
She turned back around and settled in her seat, buckling her belt in place. “Do you think they’re related?”
Though she didn’t explain her train of thought, he picked it up easily. “Someone shooting at me and the gym catching fire?” He nodded slowly. “Entirely possible.”
“You said someone tackled you?”
“Big guy. Former marine. His name’s Declan Elliot. Which reminds me, I need to let Detective Caldwell know what happened. He instructed Siri to dial the detective who answered on the second ring. While he explained both incidents, her mind drifted. She hadn’t wanted to believe she was in danger. She’d had stalkers before, and it was a scary experience. She’d never asked for the fame. All she wanted to do was swim. Because she was good at it—better than good—it made her a target. She really hated that others were in danger because of her.
Her phone rang as Noah ended the call with the detective. She checked the screen. It was Aurora. She was probably calling to beg off practice or offer some lame excuse.
“Hello?”
“Ms. Durant?” Music blared in the background. She stuck her finger in her other ear, but she could barely hear the girl on the phone who was not Aurora. “This is Julia, Aurora’s friend. I didn’t want to call her parents and get her in trouble, but I think you better come get her. S-she’s wasted.”
Peyton closed her eyes in sadness. She hadn’t managed to get through to the girl at all. State was a week away and instead of practicing, she was partying her ass off.
“Give me the address and I’ll be right there.”
“I don’t know it,” Julia cried. “It’s Richie’s house. Or Clark’s. I’m not sure. They brought us here, but I don’t even know where we are.”
Noah had eased off the road and was talking on his cell. An address popped up on the dashboard screen. “I’ve got her location.”
He’d obviously heard the conversation, probably because Julia was yelling to be heard over the loud music. “We’ll be right there, Julia.”
“Thank you. I’m worried about her. She’s, well, she’s hammered.”
Peyton disconnected and hung her head.
“Not your fault.”
Her gaze jerked to Noah. “Of course, it is. I’m her coach. I’m supposed to mentor her, inspire her. I haven’t gotten through to her at all.”
“Some people are uncoachable. You can guide and teach and beg, but if they don’t have the desire, it’s impossible. That’s not on you.”
Easy for him to say. She felt like a gigantic failure. Coaching had never been a life goal of hers and now she knew why. She sucked. At least she had her sportswear company, which she loved.
Noah turned where the GPS indicated to a street lined with dozens of cars. Looked like the party was a roaring success. Music could be heard through the closed windows, the deep throbbing beat of bass, as they approached. Instead of looking for a parking space, Noah stopped diagonal to the driveway, blocking in several cars. She slid out before he could open her door.
The music had been loud inside the SUV. Now it was deafening. The party had spilled outside, with people drinking on the porch. One couple made out on a swing. Lovely. Beer bottles and refuse littered the walkway and lawn. Some poor kid was puking up his guts in a boxwood hedge as his friends laughed and cheered him on.
“I’m calling the cops,” Noah muttered. “I’ve been to my share of keggers, but this party is raging out of control.”
“You can call after I get Aurora out of here.” Peyton sidestepped a puddle of something she didn’t even want to try to identify and surveyed the scene with disgust. She’d gone to college and she’d attended a few parties, but her focus had been on swimming, so the thought of drinking to excess had never appealed to her. But these kids were younger. High school age. How Aurora ended up at a party like this was scary. And where were the parents? Neighbors?
One boy chugged a plastic cup filled with beer and then drunkenly glanced at Noah as they entered the house. His eyes widened and beer spewed from his mouth. “Cops!” he shouted, stumbling over his feet and pushing another boy out of the way to run.
Peyton couldn’t hide her amusement. “You do look like a cop. It’s the eyes. You’re very intimidating.” And sexy. She’d almost forgotten how attractive he was. His blue eyes were hypnotic.
Music screeched to a sto
p as everyone turned to gape at them. So much for grabbing Aurora and leaving.
“Hey, look, it’s the golden girl! Peyton Durant!”
Suddenly there was screaming and then a mass of drunken partiers converged on her, their phones out trying to snap her picture. She ducked her head and Noah wrapped himself protectively around her, hoping to avoid any photo ops. All she needed was to be tabloid fodder for attending a party rife with underage drinking.
“Marry me, Peyton,” someone called out.
“Damn, you look amazing in that dress.”
“I love you,” another voice said.
Keeping her head down, she scanned the room looking for Aurora or Julia. Her mouth tightened when she recognized the man who’d entered her apartment the other night. Colin or Craig, something with a C. He saluted her with a plastic cup and flashed a cocky smile. She fought the overwhelming urge to march over and slap it off his face, which wasn’t good because he was a teenager, for goodness sake.
She noticed Julia at the same time the girl spotted her. The look of sheer relief on Julia’s face made Peyton’s stomach clench. The younger girl rushed over, grabbed Peyton’s hand and towed her down a hall, guiding her inside a small bedroom. Aurora was passed out on the bed, vomit dried on the side of her face. Both girls wore mini-skirts and midriff baring tops and lots of makeup. Aurora’s was smeared beneath her eyes.
“I can’t wake her up!” Julia cried. “She was doing, um body shots, and they kept making her drink more. I tried to get her to stop.” Tears filled her eyes.
Noah checked her pulse, his brows creasing. “We need to get her to a hospital. Do you have a ride home?” For the second time tonight, he scooped a woman in need in his strong arms.
Julia nodded. “I called my older sister. She’s coming to get me.”
“Good. Get out of here fast,” he told her. Then he was striding out the door with a very unresponsive Aurora in his arms. Her head and limbs hung like a rag doll. Peyton hurried after him with Julia on her heels.
Someone made the mistake of trying to block Noah’s exit. “Hey, where are you taking Aurora?” It was the guy whose name began with C. “She’s here with me.”
“Move. Now,” Noah growled.
The guy stepped aside with both hands in the air. “Just making sure you aren’t kidnapping my girlfriend.”
“She’s sick, Clark,” Julia told him.
Clark grabbed Julia’s arm. “I didn’t give you permission to leave.”
Noah stopped and slowly turned to glare at the boy. Again, Clark held up his hands in surrender and turned away. “Whatever,” he drawled.
“Hey Golden Girl, you can’t leave,” one of the drunken partiers called out.
“Take me home with you, Peyton,” another said.
She ignored them, keeping her head down and hustling after Noah. She didn’t have any hope of keeping her picture off the internet.
“My sister’s here.” Julia pointed at the royal blue Toyota Corolla idling at the curb.
Peyton grabbed her arm. “You did the smart, responsible thing tonight, Julia.”
She shrugged dejectedly. “I’ll never get invited to another party for the rest of high school.”
“If it makes you feel better, you probably saved your friend’s life.”
“Call me, please? Let me know how she’s doing.”
“I will.”
Noah had placed Aurora on the back seat and then hopped inside. “She’s barely breathing,” he said as she buckled up. He instructed Siri to provide directions to the closest hospital, which was only a few blocks away. “Most likely alcohol poisoning,” he said. “Can you watch her to make sure she doesn’t seize or start choking?”
Peyton twisted in the seat, her heart aching to see Aurora look so young and innocent and on the brink of death. A bluish tint covered her skin beneath the garish makeup, and she was so still. “What’s the worst-case scenario?”
He glanced at her. “Worst case if it doesn’t kill her, irreversible brain damage.”
Peyton fought the urge to throw up. The girl was so young. She had her life in front of her. To toss it all away for a few drinks or to impress a boy was unconscionable.
“How old was that guy who tried to stop us?” Noah asked.
“Eighteen.”
“A man in the eyes of the law. And she’s how old?”
“Fourteen.”
“Statutory. He called her his girlfriend. I snapped pics and forwarded them to the cops to check him out. They should be on the way to raid the party by now.”
“Good.”
Noah turned at the signs leading to the hospital and screeched to a stop at the Emergency Room doors. He slammed it into park and jumped out, gathering Aurora in his arms. He carried her limp body inside. A nurse came running, stopping only to grab a gurney and roll it forward. Noah gently placed Aurora on the white mattress and the nurse wheeled her away.
Another nurse approached them with a clipboard. “Are you her parents?”
“No, I’m her coach.”
“We’ll need parental consent to do any treatment.”
With a shaky hand, she dialed the number for Avery Benton. When the woman answered, Peyton could hear music in the background, but it was something classical, not the throbbing beat from the party. She explained that there’d been an incident and that they needed to get to the hospital as soon as possible.
“I’m going to go park the SUV,” Noah told her. She nodded woodenly, anxiety eating a hole in her stomach. He returned with a cold bottle of water and she took a deep drink. After the fire at the community center, they hadn’t had a chance to eat. Her stomach was a huge knot of worry, but Noah had to be hungry.
“Do you want to find something to eat in the cafeteria? I’m not hungry, but I’ll wait here.”
He settled into the chair beside her. “I’ll wait with you.” Even disheveled and reeking of smoke, Noah was still the sexiest man she’d ever met. Several of the nurses had noticed, too.
“You should have the bullet wound checked out. If it ripped open again, you might need stitches.”
“Nah, it’s fine.”
Had she really expected him to jump right up and do as she suggested? She didn’t have the strength to argue.
Twenty minutes later the sliding doors swished open and Henry and Avery Benton rushed inside, dressed much like Noah and Peyton, as if they’d just left some swanky party. Peyton pushed to her feet. When Avery spotted her, she made a beeline, her face a mask of rage. “What did you do to our daughter?”
Noah moved in front of her before Avery could strike her—and her arm was poised to do just that. “Ms. Benton, you’ve got the wrong idea. Peyton saved your daughter. Aurora went to a party and drank to excess. Her friend called Peyton, who dropped everything to help her. You owe her a debt of gratitude and an apology.”
She narrowed her gaze. “Who are you?”
He glanced down at Peyton. “A friend.”
Henry rushed over before Avery could offer an apology. “They’ve pumped her stomach and are giving her a mixture of glucose and fluids. What the hell happened?”
Peyton gathered her composure. “I got a call from Aurora’s friend Julia. She said that Aurora was sick and that I needed to come get her.”
“Why you and not us?” Avery demanded.
“I don’t know but I assume she didn’t want to get her friend in trouble. When we got to the party, we found her passed out on a bed. My friend Noah carried her out and we drove straight to the hospital.”
“Where was this party,” Henry growled, his phone in his hand.
“It’s taken care of,” Noah said evenly. “I sent the police as soon as we left.”
Henry narrowed his eyes. “Aren’t you a cop? You look like one.”
“No. Former military, but I work private security and I have friends on the force.”
Henry nodded, satisfied. “Good. I want to press charges. Someone supplied my fourteen-year old daughter
with enough liquor to kill her. We’re lucky it just hospitalized her.”
Noah gave him the name of his contact with the police force. She had no doubt he’d follow through and press charges. It’d serve the two arrogant boys right for supplying alcohol to underage drinkers if they were in fact responsible for the party.
The doctor came out and gave them the update that Aurora was awake and responding to commands. Peyton’s shoulders sagged. She’d been worried about potential brain damage.
She walked over to Noah, planning on waiting all night, but Avery stopped her, her eyes filled with remorse.
“Peyton, I’m so sorry. I overreacted.”
“She’s your only daughter. You were worried.”
Avery nodded briskly. “Yes, she is, but that doesn’t excuse my behavior. Thank you for going to her when she needed you. She trusts you and I trust you. I hope you’ll consider extending your contract.”
“Thank you for asking, but I’m moving on. I’ve compiled a list of potential coaches for you to interview so you won’t be left in the lurch.”
Avery sighed. “I’m sorry to see you go, but I understand. We’ve spoiled Aurora. She doesn’t work for anything. It’s probably time for her to hang up her suit and goggles.”
That made Peyton sad since the girl had such amazing potential. Wasted talent.
“It was more my dream than hers,” Avery admitted. “I didn’t tell you this when I hired you, but I swam against you in several meets. You crushed me every time. I was older than you, but I wanted to be you. When the opportunity arose to hire you to coach my daughter, I couldn’t pass it up.”
Peyton was touched. “Thank you.” It’d been the perfect set-up where she could just walk out her door and train while deciding if coaching was something she wanted to do in the future. She now knew it wasn’t. She’d still volunteer, but a personal coach wasn’t for her.
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