Kiss Me Gone

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Kiss Me Gone Page 14

by Christa Wick


  He might hate me, but all I felt in my heart for him at that moment was sorrow. He had just lost the woman he loved, the woman he was going to marry.

  I hit the listing for Felix and explained my dilemma. He agreed to wrangle a two hundred pound firefighter into his car and deliver Dare safely to the hotel. Fifteen minutes later, we stood in front of the door to my apartment. My hands shook too badly to use the key.

  Felix took over and entered first.

  "You sure you didn't imagine the visit, chica?" He called out after a few seconds.

  Stepping into the living room, I looked around then took a deep breath. "You think my place always smells like an alehouse?"

  "No, baby girl. I doubt it ever smells like one." Returning from the kitchen, he handed me a recipe card. "Found this on the counter."

  It should have been you.

  "That's one cold motherfucker," Felix said before launching into a long string of Spanish words I couldn't understand despite two years of riding shotgun.

  "He was drunk," I said, my heart unconvinced. Drunk or sober, Dare would blame me for Laurie's death for the rest of his life.

  Wrapping his arms around my shoulders, Felix pulled me into a tight hug. "I don't care, chica. If I ever meet this guy, I'm crushing his pendigo ass into the dirt."

  "Deal," I agreed, certain the event would never transpire. I felt it deep in my bones -- Dare O'Donnell was out of my life for good.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Dare

  Deputy Chief Williams, the man in charge of training and my new boss in the Tucson Fire Department, pointed at a blank spot along the back wall of the staff meeting room then walked down the center aisle to the podium. I slumped against its brick surface, my arms resting across my chest and a folder in one hand.

  The room was larger than I remembered from my tour the week before when I had been interviewing for the only open spot in the department. I was now the lead training instructor for the city's firefighting teams, one step below DC Williams -- the doer to his planner.

  I sighed, my gaze scanning the room to assess the men and women I would be working with. I belonged in the field with an axe and a hose, not in a classroom or some training environment with a clipboard checking off times and offering advice on how to move faster and smarter. But the work held no meaning outside of the location. More than anything, I needed to be in Tucson.

  Seeing EMT patches sprinkled in among the firefighters, I straightened to my full height. A dark auburn head, the long hair pulled into a braid, captured my attention.

  Eden Abbey.

  Her presence and that of the other EMTs surprised me. They had their own home base. I had expected a few days minimum before I bumped into her or she stormed into my office demanding to know what the hell I was doing in her city.

  I drew a slow breath, closed my eyes and let a dozen or more images and sensations flicker through my mind. I saw the first time a roof caved on me. I remembered the weight of a squalling infant in my arms as I pulled it from a burning crib. I remembered a red haired beauty on her knees in a burning hotel.

  I was at home in hell, calmest when adrenaline pumped through my body. I was fireproof and I damn well refused to be afraid of a woman, no matter how hard a hold she had on my heart.

  Polite applause erupted around the room, jerking me from my trance. My attention returned to the podium, where DC Williams had invited some civilian to speak to the audience. I had missed the man's name and the reason behind his presence.

  "Yo, Graf!" A big man center row continued clapping.

  I flipped the folder open and looked for his name on the directory DC Williams had given me. Not finding it, I settled back against the brick wall and waited for him to work up the nerve and begin talking.

  "As you all know..." He paused, seemed to choke with emotion. Reaching up, he loosened the tie around his neck, the thin line of silk looking out of place against a short-sleeve dress shirt. Wasting another minute, he shuffled through the papers he had brought to the podium before he started over.

  "Many of you have experienced the loss of a team member. The staff and volunteers of For the Fallen work tirelessly to ease the loss."

  He kept talking but my brain blanked on the words coming out of his mouth. I looked to DC Williams. He had taken up a spot near the front door, a few feet from the little man commanding the podium. Williams had his cold gray stare fixed on me. I looked away, back to Graf with his red silk tie and his many papers.

  Without a doubt, my new boss was studying my reaction. He was a fool if he thought I would do anything to make him regret his decision. Beyond Eden, Williams was the only person in the room who knew about my connection to Laurie. I suspected he had also learned about Laurie's job back in Hagersburg as the FTF coordinator. Graf's speech was a test to determine whether I was unstable.

  Not that I blamed Williams for thinking I might be ready for a straight jacket. What man in his right mind, after losing his fiancée in an accident thousands of miles away from their home, quit his job and seek a new one working around the very people who had failed to save her?

  The move had nothing to do with Laurie and everything to do with Eden. And, for the time being, Williams didn't have a clue that my connection to Eden extended beyond Laurie's death. I wanted to keep it that way.

  I looked through the crowd to find the woman who had twice broken my heart. Her head was half turned so that I could see her face in profile. She looked pale. The words filtering across the room from the podium finally penetrated my brain and I understood why Eden appeared ready to puke.

  "We lost one of our own last month. Her name was Laurie Quade, she was visiting from back east." Graf lifted his hand in the direction of Eden and the big Hispanic male sitting tight by her side. "Everyone did everything they could to save her."

  Another round of applause went up. I didn't have it in me to clap. I had blamed Eden at the hospital and I vaguely remembered doing it again that night at her apartment after a pint of Jack Daniels and a six-pack of beer. My accusation had been clumsy. I hadn't meant that she had failed to render competent aid to Laurie.

  I had blamed Eden because she existed, because she left me when I had been ready to promise her a future together and, ultimately, because I had brought Laurie to Tucson with the specific intent to put Eden in my past. No Eden, no Tucson trip, no dead fiancée. Simple logic even if it was entirely flawed.

  "With less than a hundred staff members across the country," Graf droned on after the applause died down. "It was a statistical improbability that a For the Fallen representative would need the aid of the very community they work to uplift. But the improbable has come to pass. I have asked national, and they have approved, the creation of a scholarship in Miss Quade's name so that she can continue to serve the families of America's fallen firefighters, police officers, paramedics and other city EMS personnel."

  Feet began to stomp in approval. Voices lifted, hooted their endorsement. The muscles in my face hardened like cement curing under the desert sun. Heat blistered my skin. I looked at DC Williams to find that I was still under scrutiny.

  Graf called for silence, his hands pushing down at the empty air above the podium. When the room went quite once more, he took off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes.

  "Thank you, that really means a lot. I'll be sending out emails today with a schedule of fundraising events specifically designated for this scholarship. I hope each of you will pick one or two that you can participate in. I will also be calling Laurie's family and letting them know how deeply she has touched so many lives in a city that only held her for a short time."

  The stony sensation fanned across my body. The muscles along my chest flexed but didn't relax. I wanted to march across the room and grab my new boss by the neck. I tracked his steps as he walked up to the podium and shook Graf's hand before addressing the crowd.

  "The EMS teams are dismissed. I need all firefighters to remain seated while I have your new lead training
instructor, Dare O'Donnell, come up to the podium and introduce himself."

  I sensed heads turning in my direction as DC Williams extended an arm toward me. I didn't look at anyone. The EMTs hadn't finished vacating the room. Eden was among them and she had just gotten hit hard twice, first by Graf's announcement and then by my introduction.

  If I caught sight of her face, I would stare -- long and hard. She might crack. Even if she remained composed, my focus would draw unwanted attention to Eden.

  Far from moving to Tucson with the intent to ruin Eden's life -- I had moved there to claim her as mine.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Eden

  With one hand between my shoulders and the other cupping my elbow, Felix led me out to where he had parked our unit. Except for a few mumbled swear words in Spanish and the occasional warning that I was about to encounter a curb or a step, he kept silent until we reached the ambulance. He unlocked the door on my side and pulled it open.

  I swayed backward. His hands jumped to steady me.

  "Do I need to break out the d-fib?"

  Not getting the joke, I looked at Felix, slow blinks tapping out my distress in Morse code. His fingers closed around my wrist and I realized he was checking my vital signs. I felt numb all over, the sensation starting when I realized why Andrew Graf was attending the special staff meeting. Pain building in my chest as Graf's speech became more emotional, I had switched to auto-pilot. My gaze dropped so no one would see my face or how I had my eyes and jaw pressed tight so that the vibrating tension blocked out his voice.

  When Williams took over, I thought I was safe. Then he dropped a bomb on my head.

  Dare O'Donnell wasn't out of my life. He wasn't even out of my city.

  Reaching into the cooler he brought every day, Felix pulled out a bottle of frozen ice and held it against the back of my neck. "That was a bust in the nuts, chica."

  "Fucking tell me about it," I said, recovering my voice at last.

  "You think Williams knows?"

  I thought about it for a second then nodded. "About Dare and Laurie, sure. And he knows we had the call. But, beyond that..."

  I finished with a shrug.

  His head swung back and forth and one leg bounced in disapproval. "Pure loco -- for all Williams knows, dude is here to extract some kind of crazy revenge on the department."

  I snorted at the thought. "Nope, just on me."

  "Fuck!" Felix spit to the side then swiped the back of his hand across his mouth. "Forgot that I have a date with that pendigo's ass and not the kind of ass date I enjoy."

  For the first time since Graf stepped up to the podium, a brief smile curved along my mouth. I replaced a restraining hand on my partner's arm as the moment's lightness faded. "Don't. There are channels to go through if he causes me any real trouble."

  Felix growled protectively, the sound suddenly muted as Victor Harkens, another EMT, came into view. Harkens lifted a hand, changing his direction. Stopping next to us, he gave my shoulder a quick squeeze before offering Felix a fist bump.

  "Never would have guessed Graf could give a speech like that. Pretty damn moving, huh?"

  "Definitely," I agreed, returning the bottle of ice to the cooler. My tongue felt like it had plumped to the size of a grapefruit, my emotions making speech difficult.

  "We all know that lady didn't have a chance," Harken assured us. "Damn surgical team could have dropped out of the sky. Only thing that would have saved her is a time machine."

  Felix nodded, his hands moving to trace the corners of a cross.

  "Either of you want to grab a few beers at Throwbacks when the shift is over?"

  "No." I answered with a sharp croaking noise. If anyone at the department invited the new guy out for drinks that evening, they would wind up at Throwbacks. I wasn't ready to run into Dare O'Donnell again.

  Harkens' mouth quirked. I tried to cover my harsh response with a lie. "Summer math class is kicking my ass. I'll be home every night memorizing formulae until the final exam."

  He turned his attention to Felix. "What about you?"

  Felix yawned. "Pedicure."

  "Yeah, sure," Harkens laughed and fished his keys from his pocket. "You two let me know when you change your minds."

  Watching Harkens walk away, Felix made a small clucking noise at the back of his throat. "You know he was only interested in whether you wanted to go, right?"

  "Don't start," I sighed. "He's a nice guy, but..."

  "He's not Dare O'Donnell," Felix finished.

  Just the mention of that man's name made me rub at my cheeks.

  "Yeah, that's what I thought." Felix pointed at the ambulance's open door. "Saddle up, chica."

  I crawled inside then watched as he took his place behind the steering wheel. Turning in my direction, he lifted one thick brow.

  "So, are you spending the night at my house or are we taking the party to your apartment?"

  I slugged his arm then shook my head. "Is this your way of telling me you switched teams?"

  An exaggerated shudder passed through him, and then he turned serious again. "He's going to show up at your apartment. You can take that shit to the bank."

  "Yeah," I agreed. "Eventually. But not tonight."

  At least, I hoped he wouldn't.

  ********************

  At five minutes past midnight, my cell phone lit with an incoming text message from a local, but unfamiliar, number. I swiped at the screen and entered my pass code. With just the number and the message showing, I still knew that the sender was Dare by the content.

 

  I waited for more, unwilling to reply until I knew the direction in which this conversation was headed. The last message I had received from him, the one written on the recipe card the day Laurie died, had stated that he wished I was dead.

  It should have been you.

  Another 20 minutes passed before my screen lit with a new message.

 

  Surprised by its tone, I read the message twice. Use of the word "girl" caused me particular confusion. This wasn't our first encounter. I wasn't someone he was preparing to ask out on a date. But absent the context of our past, his message read like a shy suitor.

  What the hell was Dare O'Donnell up to?

  Two more minutes ticked by.

 

  Somehow, I managed not to fling the phone at the wall. Whipping the bed sheet off my legs, I took the phone into the living room, turned the volume down and went into the kitchen. Digging through the drawer next to the refrigerator, I found a magnet and a recipe card -- the recipe card.

  It should have been you.

  I slapped the card and magnet onto the refrigerator where I would be sure to see it in the morning. I wouldn't be stupid. I wouldn't let his texts get to me. Whatever game he was up to, he could find another partner to play with.

  ********************

  Two days later, a hand that had done unspeakably pleasurable things to my body so many years ago slid a cup of coffee across one of the hospital's tables in the cafeteria.

  "I think you need to update your number in the department's directory." He sounded like a bureaucrat, his tone flat and disinterested.

  "My listing is fine." I lifted my gaze cautiously, looking for signs of the intent behind him starting a conversation. The inspection meant studying his face, the firm jaw, the neutral line of his mouth, the crinkle of skin around his blue eyes. Realizing his masculine beauty would always be a dangerous trap for me, I returned my attention to the incident report I had been filling out. "My cell phone only works when the proper chain of command is used."

  An amused snort made me glance up just as a grin that had once made my knees weak flashed across Dare'
s face. In his typical smart ass fashion, he extrapolated my point to its logical, yet erroneous, conclusion.

  "So I should have sent my texts to DC Williams for him to send to your boss, so that dispatch could read them to you? Is that correct?"

  "Sounds right," I said, refusing to let him bait me.

  His fingers drummed along the table's surface for a few seconds and then he tapped at the paper coffee cup. "Dark, no cream or--"

  I jerked to my feet, clutched the clipboard protectively against my stomach. Suppressing the urge to ask Dare what agenda he was pursuing, I turned to leave.

  "You seeing anyone?"

  The question tangled at my feet, tried to trip or constrain me. I locked my gaze on the swinging metal doors that led into the cafeteria's kitchen until I was safely past the end of the table. I turned left, found a new object to focus on and kept walking.

  Reaching the ambulance, I climbed into the passenger seat. Finding a ripped up incident report, I flipped it over and began writing.

  It should have been you.

  It should have been you.

  It should have been you should have been you should have been you--

  "Grocery list, chica?"

  I jumped, almost yelped. Quickly folding the sheet of paper so Felix couldn't see what I had written, I shook my head. "Just writing down something I need to remember."

  "Something to remember, huh?" His arms jiggled, the motion causing the oxygen tanks he had been filling while I was in the cafeteria to lightly knock against one another on the handcart. "Like how newbies always have to fill the tanks?"

  "When did you make that rule up?" I asked with a grin. I had a sneaking suspicion that particular requirement wouldn't last long because the guy running the hospital's concentrator was very cute and very gay.

  "About twenty minutes ago when I found out Roger took a job at St. Mary's."

 

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