Brave Love

by Allyson Simonian

  Ethan had been friends with James since grade school. They’d grown up blocks from each other and had been teammates and classmates. James had often helped Ethan with schoolwork, joking that Ethan had to be desperate to accept his help since he wasn’t exactly on the honor roll himself.

  Ethan reached the table and clapped James on the shoulder. “Congratulations.”

  Stepping forward, Denise gave Ethan a warm hug. “Thank you.”

  Ethan wrapped his arms around Denise’s waist and lifted her off the floor, sending her into a fit of giggles. He liked Denise and enjoyed teasing her, finding her serious nature a nice complement to James’s playfulness. He’d been happy but not surprised at the news of their engagement.

  “So, what about you?” James asked after Ethan had greeted the others at the table and they’d all sat down.

  “What about me?”

  “C’mon, man. You need to find a good girl like I did.” James shot a loving look at Denise, then leaned forward and lowered his voice. “You’re better than meaningless sex.”

  Ethan snorted. It was more like the occasional short-term relationship. Granted, James had a point. For a while now, those relationships had followed a pattern—heavy on the sex and light on the emotions.

  “You need to settle down,” James continued with a knowing look. “It’s not like it should be hard. Girls hang on you all the time.”

  Ethan drew in a breath, more than ready to steer the conversation away from himself. “When’s the big day?” he asked Denise.

  “We’re thinking January,” she told him.

  “Gonna risk it during rainy season?” James’s friend Michael asked.

  While Denise answered, James leaned forward again and picked up the thread of their prior conversation. “Mark my words, bud. The love bug’s gonna to get you sometime.”

  At thirty-one, James was only a few months older than Ethan. Obviously, the thought of marriage didn’t terrify him. Then again, he hadn’t been the one to listen to his mother cry herself to sleep for a year after his father died the way Ethan had. Opening yourself up to a relationship brought you nothing but heartache, he’d concluded, so he was happy with his life the way it was.

  Once again, Ethan aimed for a change in subject. “How’s work been?”

  “Pretty good.” James was a fireman, and they talked about a training course he had just taken. He was working toward a paramedic certification.

  “How about with you? All’s well with the new partner?”

  “Nothing to complain about,” Ethan said.

  “You said he’s from another department?”

  “Yeah. He just moved here because of a divorce.”

  “You two getting along okay?”

  “Guess so.” Mark wasn’t the friendliest guy on the force, but as long as they had each other’s back, that was all that really mattered.

  “You hear about the house yet?”

  “No, but I should know soon.”

  When James got up to head to the restroom, Ethan pulled out his phone to check for e-mails. He and his real estate agent had been messaging back and forth, hammering out a deal with the seller on the Craftsman.

  The words One New Message glowed on his phone’s display, and his heart hammered as he swiped at the screen to display the message. Ethan read through it twice, just to be sure he was reading it correctly, then broke out into a big smile.

  He raised a hand to signal the waitress and called out, “This round’s on me.”

  • • •

  Ethan’s offer on the house was accepted, and on a Saturday morning a few weeks later, he stood in the bed of his truck, handing boxes of tools to James. Once he’d handed over the last box, he jumped down and followed James into the house through the garage door.

  As they walked into the kitchen, James gave a low whistle. “Whoa.”

  “I know.”

  James scanned the kitchen, his eyes wide as he assessed the fire damage. “Is there plumbing in this place?”

  Ethan chuckled. “There actually is. Come on, I’ll show you the upstairs.”

  “What are you gonna do with all these rooms?” James asked as they walked down the second-floor hallway. “Fill them with kids?”

  Ignoring the teasing, Ethan pointed toward the first bedroom. “I was thinking this one could be a gym.”

  James grinned. “You do that and I’ll be over here all the time. This beats the heck out of lifting weights in my garage.”

  “Hopefully the place won’t stink by then.”

  “No worries. I’ll take the smell of mildew over gas fumes any day.”

  Once they were back downstairs, James asked, “Where will you start?”

  It was a good question, and Ethan looked around. “The carpets, probably.”

  James clapped him on the back. “I’m proud of you, bro. You done good. Let me know if you need any help.”

  Ethan pounded his fist. “Thanks.”

  After James left, Ethan found a piece of paper and began writing down tasks. Within minutes, he’d scrawled down twenty. Setting the paper down, he walked out to the garage and dug out a box cutter from one of the boxes, and then set to work ripping up carpeting.

  He worked all that day without bothering to stop for lunch. By late afternoon, he’d carried all of the first floor’s old carpeting out to the backyard, where strips of ratty carpet were now stacked high in piles. As he walked back inside, he rubbed at his aching shoulders. He was going to have to rent a Dumpster.

  Exhausted as he was, a grin came over his face when he stepped into the living room. The floor’s oak planks were now visible, and they were in surprisingly decent shape. All they’d need was a good sanding and protective coating. After that was done and the walls were painted, the house would look a lot better.

  Chapter 8

  The man sat in his car and stared at Paige as she walked out of the downtown store. It was Sunday, and instead of her typical pants suit or dress, she was wearing jeans and a T-shirt. His eyes hidden by sunglasses, he drank his fill of her, his gaze tracing her curves as she window-shopped.

  For the last two years, he’d kept a low profile. His only pleasure came from watching Paige and knowing what he had planned. She thought she was safe—that her attacker had died—and it was becoming more and more difficult to keep his existence a secret. But he needed to be patient; the time to reintroduce himself would come soon enough.

  Chapter 9

  The workday had barely started when Paige heard Anne shout into the phone, “Leave me alone, Chuck!”

  Anne slammed the phone down with a sob and pushed back from her desk. Their receptionist, Sarah, exchanged a look with Paige before she stood and hurried over. Sarah spoke in hushed tones to Anne, trying to calm her as she maneuvered her toward the bathroom for privacy.

  Knowing Anne probably didn’t want any more attention, Paige remained where she was. When Anne’s phone began to ring again, Paige glanced over and could see David frowning from where he stood in his glass-walled office, speaking on the phone.

  With a shake of her head, she turned back to her computer screen and tried to regain her focus. Anne’s husband was such a jerk.

  At lunchtime, she left the office to get a salad. She ate at her desk and then texted David once she’d finished.

  Paige: Have time for a meeting?

  David: For you? Anytime.

  When she looked up, David was standing in his doorway, waving her in. Paige grabbed a legal pad and walked over. She sank down onto one of the armchairs in front of his desk as he closed the door.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Karen e-mailed to say the simulations are a go. They approved the idea this morning.”

  Paige had sent her a detailed proposal, pinpointing exactly where they could enhance the videos. For the next few minutes, she and David discussed the steps necessary to tweak them.

  As she opened her mouth to ask another question, David muttered a curse.

  Jerkin
g her head up, she followed his gaze to the office entryway. At the sight of Anne’s husband standing there with a rifle in his hands, Paige froze. Her pulse spiked so high that her heartbeat thundered in her ears.

  As she struggled to gasp in a breath, David reached her. He yanked her to her feet and dragged her around the desk before shoving her onto her knees.

  “Get under!”

  The last thing she saw before she scrambled under the desk was Chuck raising the rifle.

  David dropped his cell phone a foot away from her. “Call 911!” Then he disappeared from view.

  Dear God. He was walking out there. Unarmed! Springing into action, she fumbled with the phone. As she forced her shaking fingers to connect the call, she could hear Chuck shouting.

  A police dispatcher came onto the line. Squeezing her eyes shut, Paige whispered, “Help us!”

  Chapter 10

  Mark stepped on the gas to bridge the distance between the patrol car and the white Explorer ahead of them on the road. “I’m doing fifty. What do you think he’s doing?”

  “At least sixty,” Ethan said.

  Nodding, Mark turned on the cruiser’s siren. A minute later, he’d pulled the car over.

  Ethan got out and walked to the driver’s door. “Was there a reason you were going that fast?”

  Closing his eyes briefly, the gray-haired man behind the wheel shook his head. A resigned expression came over his face. “How much is this going to cost me?”

  “The fine is based on speed, and you were going at least twenty miles over the limit. I’ll need to see your license and registration.”

  The man handed over his license. “I mailed back my registration but haven’t gotten the new card yet.”

  “All right,” Ethan said. “Just give me a minute.”

  As he walked a few steps away, Ethan’s radio sputtered to life. “All units respond. Office shooting in progress.”

  An office shooting? Taken aback, he turned around. Mark was hurriedly motioning. Christ. He hadn’t heard wrong. Darting a glance at the license still in his hand, he rushed back to the driver and handed the license over through the open window.

  “Next time, slow down.”

  The man stared up at Ethan, seemingly dumbfounded by his good luck, before he took his license back. “I will, Officer.”

  By the time Ethan made it back to the patrol car, Mark already had the siren on. Mark peeled away from the curb after Ethan slammed his door shut.

  Snippets of information came over the radio as officers arriving on scene began to communicate with dispatch.

  “Two shots fired.”

  “It’s 300 State Street.”

  Mark shot him a glance. “Is that the one next to the bank?”

  “Yes,” Ethan said. His heart thudded as he checked his service revolver and rolled his shoulders inside the bulletproof vest he wore, thankful the department had added the soft vests as part of their uniform. While they didn’t offer as much protection as SWAT gear, they brought peace of mind to a situation like this.

  It would be another two minutes before they arrived. Taking the radio in hand, he let dispatch know their ETA.

  When Mark sped into the lot, four of Bennington’s patrol cars were already parked at the building’s entrance, lights flashing. Mark parked nose to nose with one, then he and Ethan jumped out and pulled their weapons.

  Officer Rob West walked out of the building and waved a hand at Ethan and Mark. “It’s all right now. He’s down.”

  The same words were repeated over the radio a second later.

  Ethan took a breath and willed his adrenaline rush to ease. “And we’re sure it’s only one shooter?”

  Rob nodded. “That’s all the witnesses have seen. We’re sweeping the building as a precaution, though. Can you both take the west stairwell?”

  “No problem,” Ethan said, and he and Mark hurried toward the building. They reached the door to the staircase and Mark asked, “Ready?”

  Ethan nodded. Mark counted to three and then swung open the door. Ethan entered, arms outstretched and gun at the ready. Quickly, he did a sweep of the space and the landing above. “Clear!”

  Mark entered the stairwell and followed Ethan as he climbed to the next landing. The stairwell there was clear also. As Mark pushed open the door to the third floor, Ethan radioed in an all-clear. Then they headed toward the commotion down the hall.

  As they entered Nelson Media, Ethan swept his gaze across the office. Five police officers surrounded the suspect—a hulking man in his thirties with brown hair—as he lay cuffed on the floor, cursing loudly. There was more than one gun trained on him.

  Yards away, EMTs worked on a man who’d been shot. A short distance away from that cluster, a group of employees stood huddled in a corner of the office. Although their eyes were wide and one or two appeared to be crying, they appeared to be stable.

  “Can one of you help me?” one of the other officers called out, and Mark strode over.

  Ethan’s gaze swept the office again. He squinted when he noticed movement from behind a glass-enclosed office. Gun still in hand, he approached. A beautiful brunette was slowly rising from behind a desk. Her face was pale and she was visibly shaking.

  Ethan stepped inside the inner office and looked around. Once he confirmed the woman was alone, he holstered his gun. “Are you all right?”

  Gazing up at him, she moved her mouth but no sound came out. Her eyes were unfocused and wide with fear.

  Ethan moved closer and then eased out a chair. “Here. Sit down.” He guided her by the elbow, and she sank onto the chair.

  Studying her, he wondered whether she was going into shock. A quick glance around the room revealed nothing he could use to wrap around her.

  He pressed the button on his radio. “This is three-five-one. What’s the ETA on additional EMS?”

  Mark looked up as he made the transmission, and Ethan gave a nod to assure him he had the situation under control.

  The dispatcher’s reply came back three seconds later. “Three minutes out, three-five-one.”

  Ethan relayed a description of the inner office. Releasing the radio’s button, he crouched in front of the young woman. “We’re getting some help for you. What’s your name?”

  Her head shot up, and beautiful wide brown eyes met his. “Paige,” she whispered.

  He took her hand. “It’s over now, Paige. You’re safe.”

  Seeming to register what he’d said, she managed a jerky nod. “That shot . . .” Turning around, she gasped when she saw the EMTs and shouted, “No! David!”

  What little color was left suddenly drained from her face, and Ethan was sure she was going to faint. He put a hand on her back and forced her head between her knees. “Take a breath.”

  Once she breathed deeply, he said, “Good, now take another.”

  Finally satisfied she was getting enough air, he looked out the glass wall to the man who’d been shot. The medics were now loading him onto a stretcher. “I can see him talking to the medic.”

  Ethan removed his hand from Paige’s back and watched as she sat up and gulped in another shaky breath. Christ, she look terrified.

  “He—he told me to get under the desk. Then he ran out to help Anne.”

  The vulnerable look on Paige’s face tugged at Ethan’s emotions. He resisted the crazy urge to pull her to him as an EMT entered the office. Reluctantly letting go of her, Ethan stood to give the man room.

  “She’s worried about the one who was shot.”

  The EMT crouched in front of Paige. “He was shot in his side, but it’s not life threatening. He’ll be all right.”

  The medic pulled out a blood pressure cuff and wrapped it around Paige’s arm. Taking a reading, he frowned and said, “Let’s get you onto a gurney.”

  Her eyes widened and her body tensed. “No.”

  “Ma’am . . .” The EMT sighed and glanced up at Ethan.

  “I—I don’t need to go to the hospital.” This time,
Ethan heard desperation in her whispered words.

  Another police officer stepped into the office and addressed the paramedic. “We just found someone downstairs who was hurt when the shooter came in. Can you come take a look?”

  The EMT nodded, then turned to Ethan. “It’s my recommendation that she go to the hospital because her blood pressure’s a little elevated, but she’s stable. I might need the bus for whoever’s downstairs,” he said, referring to the ambulance. He glanced at Paige again. “Someone should escort her home, at least.”

  Ethan nodded. “I’ll make sure that happens.”

  Once the medic left, Ethan asked, “Is there someone I can call for you?”

  Paige’s gaze went back to the stretcher holding the injured man before she shook her head. “I . . . I could call my neighbor, but I don’t want to bother her. And other than her, I don’t have anyone else here in Bennington except for . . .”

  As her worried gaze once again found the injured man, her meaning became clear. There was no one here she considered family except for David.

  Chapter 11

  Not life threatening. Paige kept repeating the medic’s words in her head as she watched David being taken out of the office on the gurney.

  Once he was wheeled out, she turned her attention back to the officer who’d been helping her. For the first time, she registered his handsome face. Prominent cheekbones balanced an angular jaw. Light brown hair was cropped short. Warm green eyes studied her.

  He exuded something, Paige realized as she wet her dry lips. It was strength. He looked like a man who’d do anything to protect those he watched over from harm.

  Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to shake away the image of David lying helpless on the floor.

  “Hey, are you okay?”

  When she opened her eyes, the officer was frowning. Taking a breath, she nodded.

  Not life threatening.