by Elle Kennedy
The Travis she knew no longer seemed to exist. The grief and rage ravaging his normally pleasant face had transformed him into a stranger. She could picture the encounter he had described, perfectly envision Teresa taunting this man, the way she’d taunted everyone else. Despite the fear coursing through her body, Sarah actually experienced a spark of sympathy. Travis had lost his wife and two young sons a year before he moved to Serenade. Finding out he had a daughter, only to discover that the child had been given away without his consent…it must have crushed him, as badly as he’d been crushed when he lost his family in that fire.
Fire.
Her gaze dropped to the gas can. Oh, God. Was he planning on setting her house on fire? With her and Lucy inside it?
No, he wanted Lucy. He’d said so himself.
As if her ears were burning, Lucy’s soft cry crackled from the baby monitor, causing both Sarah and Travis to look at it.
“Is that her?” His voice caught in his throat. “Is that my daughter?”
“She’s my daughter,” Sarah said softly.
His eyes blazed. “No! Nobody else is going to take her away from me, not even you, Sarah. Valerie and I had an arrangement, we would raise the baby together, but now that Valerie is out of the picture—”
Sarah gasped in interruption. “What?”
“She was going to tell the cops about my involvement in the kidnapping,” Travis said defensively. “I couldn’t let that happen.”
“You were working together?” Sarah shook the cobwebs from her head. “Valerie joined forces with you even knowing you killed her sister?”
“She didn’t know. Nobody knew. But now you do, and I’m sure the good sheriff has figured it out, too.” He grabbed her by the collar and yanked her away from the wall. To her terror, he sloshed the gas can from side to side, dousing the walls and floor with gasoline as he pushed her toward the stairs.
Adrenaline spiked in her blood. He wasn’t even armed, save for that metal can. She sidestepped, heart pounding. She had to make a run for it, race upstairs to get her baby before—
Pain crashed into the side of her face, making stars dance in front of her eyes.
“Don’t even think about it,” Travis snapped. “I’ll knock you out and leave you in a puddle of gasoline if you try to escape. Now go up the stairs.”
She should still fight. Kick him in the crotch, try to get to Lucy. But Travis was a tall man, stronger than her, and his threat of knocking her unconscious refused to leave her head. As long as she cooperated, he wouldn’t hurt her. Not until he had Lucy, anyway. She didn’t think he’d set fire to the place until he was out of the house, but she was scared he might panic if she fought him, and kill them all.
Taking a breath, Sarah slowly ascended the stairs, shooting Travis a sidelong look. “You framed me for the murder.”
His voice was thick with remorse. “I had to. I tried pinning it on Donovan, but it didn’t work. When you told me about the threat you made to Teresa, I figured I could use that.”
“To cover up the fact that you’re a killer?” she said darkly.
“I’m a father,” he snapped back. “I’m the victim here. That bitch thought she could rob me of my child, even after I told her about the agony of losing my family. She deserved to die for what she did.”
“And what about me?” she whispered. “Do I deserve to die?”
They reached the top of the stairs.
“No, you don’t,” he admitted. “But it’s the only way.”
“It doesn’t have to be,” she protested. “What if I let you see her? We could work out a visitation sched—”
“Let me see her?” he echoed in anger. “She’s mine, Sarah. Not yours. She was never yours. Now where is the nursery?”
She was going to lie, point in the other direction of the hall, but then Lucy started to wail, pretty much announcing her location. Travis gripped Sarah’s arm and dragged her down the hall. She thought he would take her to the nursery, but then there was a blur of movement, and the next thing she knew, he was shoving her into the small bathroom across from the baby’s room. Her butt landed on the tiled floor with a thump. She registered what had happened just as the door slammed.
Sarah launched herself at it, twisting the knob, but it didn’t budge. There was a scraping noise, as if someone was dragging something across the floor. He was barricading the door, trapping her inside.
“Travis!” she screamed, pounding her fists on the door. “Let me out! Please, don’t do this!”
There was no reply, only the muffled sound of Lucy’s screams. Sarah darted to the bathtub, inhaled deeply, then took off at the door and slammed her shoulder into it. Pain streaked up and down her arm, but the door didn’t move.
She couldn’t hear Lucy crying anymore.
She kept throwing herself at the door, trying to break it open, but Travis had effectively locked her in. Fear pummeled at her, slapping her skin and bringing tears to her eyes.
“Travis! Don’t do this!”
Her pleas went unanswered. She couldn’t hear a damn thing behind the door. Not footsteps. Not Lucy. Nothing.
And then she smelled the smoke.
Chapter 16
Finn couldn’t believe his eyes when the Jeep skidded to a stop in Sarah’s driveway.
The house was on fire.
Feeling as though he’d been punched in the gut, he stared in horror at the orange flames licking at the curtains on the second floor. Smoke curled through the open windows, thick gray plumes rising up and getting carried away by the afternoon breeze. The smell of scorched wood drifted toward him, burning his nostrils as his passenger let out a piercing expletive.
“What the hell is going on?” Parsons demanded, opening the door handle and jumping from the vehicle.
Finn dove after him, stunned by what he was seeing. His shock reached a new high when he spotted the silver Lexus parked a few yards away on the dirt. He’d been so focused on the smoke and flames that he’d failed to notice the car. It wasn’t Sarah’s—she kept her station wagon in the garage.
Bennett.
“He’s here,” Finn burst out, already pulling his cell phone from his pocket. He tossed it to Parsons, who caught it in surprise. “Speed dial six,” he barked. “Volunteer fire chief. Get him over here now!”
As his pulse drummed in his ears, he tore toward the porch, reaching the front door just as it swung open.
Travis Bennett stood in the doorway, his brown eyes wild, his arms clutching a confused Lucy, who let out a cry when she noticed Finn standing there.
Bennett blinked like a deer caught in headlights, then whirled around and ran back into the house. Finn lunged at the door but Bennett had locked it.
“Travis!” he shouted. “Open the door!”
He heard a muffled sound from inside, followed by Lucy’s hearty wails. As adrenaline sizzled in his blood, Finn glanced over at Parsons, who had just hung up the phone. “Back door!” he ordered. “He might make a run for it!”
Parsons sprinted off without a word, removing his Glock from his holster as he disappeared around the side of the house. As the odor of smoke grew stronger, thicker, Finn went to work on the door, slamming his shoulders into it. He felt the lock give away and kicked open the door, bursting into the front hall. Smoke instantly filled his nostrils, making his eyes water like a leaky faucet. He coughed, covered his nose with his sleeve, then rushed down the hallway, following the sound of Lucy’s cries.
The kitchen. Bennett was in the kitchen. But where was Sarah? He called her name, but there was no answer. The main floor of the house didn’t seem to be ablaze. There was a canopy of smoke gathering on the ceiling, but he realized the fire must have been ignited upstairs. He registered the sharp scent of gasoline, noticing that the throw rug near the stairs was soaked. Christ, once the flames from above found their way downstairs, the whole place would turn into a raging inferno.
After a second of indecision, he raced to the kitchen, sliding into the
room just as Bennett was stumbling to the patio door.
“Travis!” Finn barked. “Don’t move.”
Bennett ignored him, holding the baby in one arm as he fumbled for the doorknob. He’d just thrown open the door when Parsons appeared on the back lawn, his gun raised in an ominous pose.
Bennett spun around, only to find himself staring at the barrel of another weapon. Finn saw the panic enter the other man’s eyes, the way his gaze dropped to the red-faced baby in his arms.
“Travis, there’s no way out,” Finn said quietly. “Give me the baby.”
Bennett’s face turned bright scarlet. “This is my daughter, Finnegan! I’m not giving her to you, or anybody else.”
Smoke billowed in through the open doorway. Finn blinked rapidly, trying to ease the sting in his eyes, doing his best not to breathe too deeply. The fire upstairs was getting worse. He could feel the temperature rising, the heat bringing beads of sweat to his forehead. Bennett, too, was sweating, profusely, the acrid scent of his fear and desperation mingling with the smoky haze thickening the air.
“If you cared about your daughter, you would give her to Agent Parsons,” Finn told the doctor. “The smoke can’t be good for the baby. You’re a doctor, Travis, you know this.”
Bennett’s flushed face became ash-white. As a physician, he was more than aware of the risks of smoke inhalation. And the way Lucy was gulping between sobs insured that smoke was finding its way into her tiny lungs.
“Oh, God,” Bennett choked out. “Oh, my God, what am I doing?”
Finn didn’t want to feel sympathy for this man. He didn’t want to empathize with the agony swimming in Bennett’s eyes. But he did. In that moment, he realized that Bennett wasn’t an evil man. He was just broken.
“What’s happening to me?” Bennett whispered. “I’m a doctor. I took an oath to save lives, not take them.”
Finn stepped closer. “We need to get Lucy out of this house, Travis.”
He glanced past Bennett’s shoulders and noticed that the cavalry had arrived. Anna, Max and Jamie all stood behind the glass door. Jamie’s violet eyes were lined with worry. Finn saw her look up, probably at the flames ravaging the second floor. Her expression went pale. The fire was bad. He could see it on her face.
“I want you to turn around and look outside,” Finn said softly. “There’s a woman standing there. Jamie Crawford. You knocked her unconscious when you broke into her house and took Lucy.”
Tears streamed down the other man’s cheeks, though Finn wasn’t certain if due to the smoke filling the room, or from sorrow. Slowly, Travis turned and followed Finn’s gaze.
“Give Lucy to Jamie,” Finn said with patience he didn’t feel. God, where the hell was Sarah? Her absence caused foreboding to climb up his spine, but he forced himself to focus on Bennett. “She’ll take good care of Lucy, I promise you.”
Bennett’s large hand covered Lucy’s head, as if he were trying to shield the child from the smoke. Glancing back at Finn, he began to cry in earnest. “I didn’t want any of this to happen,” the man stammered. “I didn’t mean to kill her. I just couldn’t lose another child. I couldn’t do it again.”
Finn’s throat tightened. “I know. And believe me, I understand. Sarah and I lost a baby, four years ago. It was—” he took a breath, then coughed when he ended up drawing smoke into his chest “—the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. I used the tragedy as an excuse to push the one person I cared about away, and I regret that now.”
“There’s no excuse for what I’ve done,” Travis whispered. “I deserve to be punished. I deserve to be in prison.”
“Get your daughter out of the house first. You can worry about everything else later.”
Finn was convinced he had him. He saw Bennett’s hand move to the doorknob, saw him start to turn it, but then the other man spun around, his eyes wide. “Sarah!” Bennett blurted out. “I locked her upstairs.”
A sledgehammer of horror collided with Finn’s chest. “You did what?”
“I…I j-just wanted my daughter.” Moisture stained Bennett’s face. “I have to go and save her!”
The man charged forward, but Finn blocked his path, gesturing to the group outside to approach the door. “You take care of Lucy. I’ll get Sarah.”
As Jamie and Agent Parsons entered the smoke-filled kitchen, Finn hurried off, hearing Jamie’s soft encouragement as she gently took the baby from Travis Bennett. He didn’t stick around to watch Parsons arrest the doctor—he just thundered out of the room, reaching the bottom of the stairs right as an enormous fiery beam broke apart from the ceiling and crashed onto the floor. Directly obstructing his path.
Sweat dripped down his face, the heat of the flames unbearable. As little orange wisps licked at his shoes, Finn stared in growing terror at the wall of fire between him and his only way to Sarah.
Sarah bent over as another coughing fit racked her body. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t draw a single puff of air into her aching lungs. The sting from the smoke made moisture pour from her eyes like water from a dam. After spending five minutes banging into the door, she’d finally given up, and the only fruits of her labor were bruises and an incredibly sore arm.
She refused to succumb to the panic, but she was starting to think she might actually die in this tiny bathroom. The crack beneath the door seemed to be glowing. It terrified her to think what lay behind the door. Yellow-orange flames, a black tunnel of smoke. At least she could die knowing that Lucy was safe. She was certain Travis had already whisked her daughter out of the house.
Burying her face in her sleeve, she took a breath, then held it. She couldn’t decide what would be worse—burning to death, or dying from the smoke inhalation.
Probably the burning to death part. At least with the smoke she would pass out first.
You are not going to die. Think, Sarah!
She peered through the smoke, studying the window over the toilet. It wasn’t very big, probably too tight a fit for her, but hell, she had to try something.
She stood on the toilet seat, fighting a wave of dizziness. God, she felt like she was going to faint. She could hardly breathe anymore. Had she ever even opened this window before? For all she knew it was welded shut.
She flicked the lock to the side and pushed against the pane, relief soaring through her when the window creaked open. She stuck her head out and gulped fervently, her chest heaving as the fresh air slid into her body. Dizzy again, this time from the rush of oxygen, but then her head began to clear, and she realized in disappointment that the ground below was scarily far away. It was a twenty-foot drop, at least. She’d break her neck if she tried to jump.
Or you might survive…
Sarah looked at the door, swallowing when she spotted the wisps of smoke curling beneath the doorway. And the wood seemed to be…splintering. Oh, God. The white paint was turning black!
Fighting a jolt of panic, she stuck her head out the window again. She couldn’t believe how bright it was. The sun was shining and she could even hear the damn birds chirping. Another glance at the door showed the wood was beginning to crack. Taking a breath, she peered outside and shouted, “Help!” at the top of her lungs.
She expected nothing but silence in response, but to her shock, she suddenly heard Finn’s voice.
“Sarah?”
And then he was racing around the side of the house, his blue eyes staring at her in terror. “Sarah!” he yelled. “Christ, you don’t know how happy I am to see you!”
Relief flooded her body. “Finn! You have to get me out of here!”
“The fire department volunteers will be here in less than ten minutes. Are you all right up there? How bad is the smoke?”
She glanced behind her, fear clamping around her throat when she saw the hungry flames eating at the charred skeleton of the door. The fire crackled, snaking into the bathroom, then licked at the white shower curtains.
“The room is on fire!” she called down to Finn, her heart
pounding.
Even from high above, she could see the unhappiness creasing his handsome features. “Then we don’t have any time, sweetheart. You’re going to have to jump.”
Her stomach clenched with fear. “I can’t! It’s too high.”
“Sarah, listen to me. I want you to lower yourself out the window.”
“I can’t!”
“Yes, you can.” Assurance rang from his tone. “You can do it. Just climb out and let yourself hang. When I say the word, let go.”
The flames crept closer, causing the flowered wallpaper to peel and burn. Finn was right. She had no choice but to get out of here. Not unless she wanted to kiss her life goodbye.
Ignoring the panicked butterflies taking flight in her stomach, she pulled herself up onto the window ledge, then lowered herself through the tight space, backward. Letting her legs dangle, just as Finn told her to. She refused to look down. Heights had always been her biggest weakness. She didn’t even own a ladder, damn it. That’s how scared she was of not having her feet touch the ground.
“Now let go,” Finn shouted from below.
Let go?
“I’m here,” he added. “I’ll catch you.”
She sucked in a burst of air, feeling light-headed again. Oh, God. What if he missed? What if she tumbled to the ground and smashed her head in? Her chest heaved, tight with fear, and she couldn’t help but twist her head so she could look down at Finn.
To her astonishment, his blue eyes shone with calm determination. “Don’t be scared.” His husky voice drifted up and wrapped around her heart like a warm embrace. “Take that leap of faith, baby. I promise, I’ll catch you.”
He was talking about more than just this moment. About more than this jump. Sarah’s heart pounded. This was it. Crunch time. Decide once and for all whether she was willing to love Finn again.
When did you stop?
The thought flew into her head, making her swallow hard. She hadn’t. She hadn’t stopped loving him. Not for one single second.