Burn Me Anthology

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Burn Me Anthology Page 33

by Shantel Tessier


  My flashlight sweeps the room and I find the shower curtain closed. I yank it back and, throught the smoke, see the outline of a body lying in the tub. Water pours from the shower, soaking the unmoving form. I radio it in and lean down to scoop them in my arms.

  Terry, my partner, radios back and before I can turn around, he is here. He grabs my jacket and leads me out of the bathroom and down the hall. I follow without fear. Trusting him completely as I tuck the small body in my arms closer to my chest.

  Outside, the medics are on standby. I glance down, unsure of what I’ll find. When I see I hold a naked woman in my arms, I bypass the stretcher and carry her to the back of the ambulance and out of view.

  They follow without a word. A paramedic shoves the stretcher in the back and climbs in behind it while another moves behind the wheel. The vehicle leaves without anyone asking if I want to stay or go. Perhaps it’s because for some reason, I don’t want to let the woman out of my arms. Hell, I don’t even know if she is alive.

  “Set her down for me, Shane.” For the first time, I notice the medic is one I’ve worked with before. I’m reluctant, but this is his area of expertise. Not mine. And from what I know of this guy, he’s good at what he does.

  I set the woman down.

  “She’s alive.” It’s all he tells me. All I need to hear. There’s no reason for me to stay. But it’s not like I can jump out of a moving ambulance either.

  On their own accord, my eyes land on her small breasts. Not even a handful. The size I like best. With light brown nipples and large areolas. Another thing I find I like.

  You sick fuck…

  I jerk my eyes away from her chest. Up her smooth throat to her face that is shielded by a tangle mess of black hair. I reach out and drag my finger across her head, smoothing her hair back.

  Parted, pink lips.

  Slightly upturned nose.

  Long eyelashes that lay against her cheek.

  And a birthmark the size of a quarter and a few shades lighter than her olive skin, positioned above her right eyebrow at her hairline.

  “Miss?” The medic pulls open her eyes and shines a light into them. “Miss can you hear me?”

  “Her name is Mila,” I tell him, my eyes on her face. Willing her to wake up.

  “She tell you that or did her neighbor?”

  “She did.” I meet his gaze. “About ten years ago.”

  Chapter 3

  Mila

  I’m not dead.

  But I wish like hell I was.

  I hurt everywhere.

  Who knew breathing could cause this much pain? With every rise of my chest, I feel like I’m lifting a car. And with every breath I release, flames scorch my throat.

  The only sound in the room is the steady beep of monitors and my wheezing. My vision is blurry. There are tubes in my arms. A mask over my nose. Bandages on my hands and my ankles are restrained.

  I swallow and the result is dry. It hurts so bad tears prick my eyes and spill down my cheeks. The salty drops sting—resulting in another onslaught of tears I can’t hold back.

  I cry because it hurts to cry.

  Then I cry more.

  It’s never-ending.

  The remote lying under my bandaged hand was obviously placed there while I was asleep. I try to hit the call button for the nurse, but my fingers are too tightly wrapped and I can’t see the buttons. Everything is just a blur. My efforts end in me turning on the T.V. and adjusting my bed in an even more uncomfortable position.

  When the door opens, I’m in full blown panic. I can’t really make out the person through my hazy vision, but I can hear them talking to me. Feel their hand on my hair. The warmth of their breath on my cheek.

  “I-I…Where…” I can’t speak. Can’t whisper. My thoughts are as jumbled as my words.

  “You’re in the hospital. You’re safe. There was a fire but you made it out. With a little rest, you’ll make a full recovery, I promise.”

  The man answers all the questions I can’t ask. I calm instantly from his words and under his hand. The panic recedes and the pain awakens once again.

  “It hurts,” I whisper, trying to blink away the tears that prevent me from making out his face.

  “I know. They’re going to give you something to help you rest.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head. “I’m scared.”

  “You have nothing to be scared of. You’re safe.”

  There’s movement in the room. My arm lifts. Voices speak quietly around me. My body relaxes. Consciousness fades. But before I completely surrender to the darkness, I hear him.

  “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

  A pounding headache jerks me from sleep. My temples pulse and the very back of my head throbs with every beat of my heart. I become aware of my other injuries too. The burning in my throat. The heaviness in my chest. The constant ache is everywhere. And it’s unbearable.

  “Shhh…” Hands are in my hair. Lips at my ear. I hadn’t realized I was crying out in pain until that voice calms me.

  I squint in an attempt to make out the face of the man next to me. My vision isn’t distorted by my tears. There’s something wrong. “Can’t see.”

  “It’s the medicine. They put a salve on your eyes to help with the burn. The heat didn’t do any damage that they’re aware of. It’s just a precaution. I know it’s scary, but try to keep them closed. Your vision will clear soon enough. I promise.”

  This is the second time he’s promised me that I’m okay. And for some reason, I trust this stranger and close my eyes. “Are you a nurse?” My voice is nothing more than a croak.

  “Something like that. Would you like some ice chips?” His evasiveness is forgotten at the mention of ice. I nod and he places a few crushed pieces on my tongue. It burns like Hell’s fire initially, but soothes soon after. I open my mouth for more and he sits on the bed and feeds me ice. The silence is comfortable and I feel…safe.

  “Mila?”

  My eyes flutter open. Someone else stands on the opposite side of my bed. They’re no more than a blurry figure.

  “I’m Dr. Beasley. Are you in any pain?”

  I nod.

  “Where do you hurt?”

  “Everywhere.”

  I can hear his smile when he speaks. “How about this. I’ll ask you some questions and you nod or shake your head in answer. If I forget anything, you point to where it hurts and we’ll discuss that part. Fair enough?”

  By the time the doctor has finished with his questions, I’m dizzy from nodding so much. And exhausted. I don’t have to tell them this though. Soon, I can’t hold my head up. And I’m drifting back off to sleep—once again assured that I won’t be alone.

  Chapter 4

  Shane

  She didn’t ask me to stay. But I knew she wanted me here. I wouldn’t deny her. Couldn’t deny myself. Last night was my last shift. I would be off for the next four days. And somehow I knew I’d be spending it with Mila.

  When the ambulance arrived, I waited in the lobby. I called Terry to let him know I wouldn’t be back in. That I wanted to stay with the girl until her family arrived. I doubted any would show. Which is another reason I stayed.

  An hour later, I was escorted to her room in the Intensive Care Unit. When I walked in and saw she was awake, my need to protect her overtook me. The urge was as desperate in the hospital as it was when I pulled her from that burning house. So much about her has changed since I last saw her ten years ago. Yet much is still the same.

  Like that haunted look in her eyes. It was the same one she wore when she was a child. Her black hair was just as long and thick and unruly as I remembered. And her birthmark, the most remarkable thing about her stood out and called to me. Just as it had all those years ago.

  I wonder if she is still as mischievous as she used to be. Had the little spitfire calmed down? Did she outgrow the need to fight and wrestle anyone who said something out of the way to her? Had she learned to trust anyone? Open
her heart to anyone?

  But there’s one thing I know for certain has changed about Mila—she doesn’t look like a little girl anymore. Small as she may be, she’s a woman. With a woman’s body. Barely five feet tall and one hundred pounds, she is not just the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, but the sexiest too. As much as I want to hold her and tell her she’s safe, I want to cover her body with mine, bury myself inside her and watch her fall apart beneath me.

  For fuck’s sake.

  The woman is hurt. Scared. Alone. And here I am imagining her writhing under me. Screaming my name as I bring her to pleasure I doubt she’s ever experienced. I want her. But that will come later. Right now, she needs me in a different way.

  She wakes and she’s scared. I move to her side. Assure her she’s okay. When the nurse told me I needed to leave, I refused. Mila was scared. I wasn’t going any-fucking-where. Throughout the night and during her transfer to a room, I stayed by her side.

  I was there when she woke again to feed her ice chips and watch her as she sinks back against her pillows. To her, I’m just a nurse. A doctor. Orderly. She has no idea who I really am, what I want or how I feel about her.

  Truth is, neither do I.

  With the doctor’s promise that she would be out for a few hours, I ordered an Uber back to the fire station. To avoid any questions, I didn’t bother going inside. Instead, I got in my truck and went home.

  In record time, I’m showered. Have a bag packed. A couple pillows in my arm. An extra blanket and a tall cup of coffee. Mila is still asleep by the time I return and I settle in the seat next to her—only after I kiss her head and run my fingers through her hair.

  “Shane?” The hoarse voice wakes me and I bolt upright when I see Mila staring back at me. “Shane Daughdrill?” My chest warms at the sound of my name on her lips. She remembers me. It shouldn’t feel this good.

  I give her a crooked smile. “Hey Mila girl. Wasn’t sure you’d remember me.”

  “Of course I remember you. You were Alan’s best friend.” The sadness in her eyes at the mention of Alan is the same sadness I feel when I think of him.

  Alan was my friend long before he was ripped from his home. On the weekends, my dad would drive me the forty miles north to see him. During the year he was in the foster system, he was placed in the same home as Mila.

  He was the only one she ever really trusted and opened up to. He was more than just her big brother, he was her friend. When he aged out of the system at eighteen, she was only twelve. He’d told me his plans to try and adopt her. But he was killed in a car wreck only six weeks after they were separated. I never saw her at the funeral.

  “You always brought me Zebra cakes.” Her smile pulls me out of my thoughts. Damn she’s gorgeous. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m a firefighter. I rode here in the ambulance with you.”

  “You saved me? That was you?”

  “No, baby. Being in that shower saved your life. You did that.”

  She flushes and I don’t know if it’s from the endearment or the compliment. Her eyes widen as she sweeps me from head to toe and her heartrate spikes on the monitor.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “The other firefighters?”

  “They’re fine too.”

  “My house?”

  I frown. Her pulse races higher.

  “Hey,” I soothe, moving to sit next to her. “You’re okay and that’s all that matters.”

  Her head shakes back and forth. “My home. My stuff.” Tears well in her eyes and it breaks my heart. But it’s her heart I’m worried about.

  “Mila, I need you to calm down.” My voice is soft but firm.

  “Oh! What time is it?” Her stare sweeps the room. When it lands on the clock that says it’s after one in the afternoon, she tries to get up.

  “Mila, stop.”

  “I have work! I have to leave! I have class!”

  I rub her arms. Try to talk to her. But nothing I do calms her. Out of options, I place my arms on either side of her waist and force her back against the pillows. “Look at me, Mila.”

  Wide, frantic eyes meet mine. She looks so tired. So stressed. Unsure and scared. I want to kiss her and hold her and pamper her until those eyes sparkle with the kind of carefree happiness she’s never known.

  “You’re hurt. You’re tired. You have second degree burns on your hands and feet. You need to rest and give your lungs and body time to heal. I’ll call your job and the school and whoever else I need to call to let them know you’ll be out until further notice. As long as you’re with me, you’re safe. I won’t let anyone or anything hurt you. That includes yourself. So I suggest you calm down. Because if I have to tell you again, I’m going to turn you over in this bed and spank your ass until it’s the same shade of red as your hands and feet. Do you understand?”

  I hold my breath and wait for her to tell me to get the hell out of her room. That she’s a grown woman not a child. That I’m some sick, perverted bastard. She’s silent for so long, I’m afraid I moved too far too fast. But I don’t regret it. Even if it means I might have lost her before I even had her.

  Then she does something I never expected her to do.

  And it’s greater than anything I could’ve hoped for.

  Chapter 5

  Mila

  Shane Daughdrill.

  I haven’t seen him in ten years. Yet I can’t imagine not having him here in this moment.

  It was strange, waking up and seeing him. His handsome face scruffy with a two-day old beard. His large body strong and relaxed in that chair. Black T-shirt straining across his broad chest. Blue eyes soft and kind as he looked at me like I was something…more.

  But odd as it was, it felt good. Right. I hadn’t spoken of Alan in years, though I thought of him often. It was the first time I can remember saying his name out loud and not breaking down, curling into myself or acting out.

  Shane had told me he was fine. That the other firemen were fine. Then he hit me with the news that I’d lost my home. Immediately, I became concerned about the things I always seem to worry about.

  Money.

  Insurance.

  My job.

  School.

  How could I have or do all those things if I was stuck in a hospital?

  When I lost control, his tone had hardened. He wasn’t unkind, just stern. Reassuring. And when that wasn’t enough, he’d threatened to spank me.

  I couldn’t believe my ears. Or my body’s reaction to his words. But it was the impact his promise had on my soul that caused the dam behind my eyes to burst. Perhaps it’s because Alan was the only other person who had ever said those words to me in a way that made me feel loved. Safe. Taken care of.

  “Oh, sweetheart.” He brushes his thumb across my cheek and presses his lips to my head. He pulls away and I cry harder. But he simply moves to the foot of my bed and unbuckles the straps on my ankles. He rearranges some wires and tubes, removes the Velcro cuff from my arm, carefully gathers me in his and lifts me to his lap as he takes a seat on the bed.

  Like a child in need of comfort, I curl against his chest and sob—begging him through my tears to hold me. Touch me. Make me feel something other than the physical ache wracking my body, the emotional turmoil in my chest and the mental agony at the reminder of what happened to me only hours ago.

  Shane’s strong hands rub up and down my arms and back as he gives me exactly what I need. His embrace is comforting. Unhurried. Patient. He absorbs my pain. Carries my burden. My sobs soon weaken to sniffles. Deep shudders are diminished to light trembles. Tears flow instead of pour.

  I shiver and he tucks the blanket tighter around me. My heart flutters at the simple gesture. At the way he kisses my hair. Cradles my cheek in his hand. I’ve needed this for so long. And though I know I shouldn’t get attached, I allow myself to have this moment with him and just let go.

  He smells good. Like clean linen and masculinity. His c
hest and thighs are hard, but warm and inviting. I want to stay like this forever. Let him shield me from everything. He promised I was safe with him. That nothing or no one would ever hurt me—even myself.

  I flush at the reminder of his promise to spank me. Of what it would feel like to have his hands on that part of me. Would he hold me like this when he was finished? Just like they do in the books?

  “Feel better?” he asks, his voice a low rumble. The vibration in his chest soothing the ache in mine.

  I do feel better. Emotionally and mentally, anyway. Physically, whatever they gave me for pain must have worn off. My breakdown allowed me to temporarily forget it, but now that it’s passed, I hurt worse than I did when I woke up.

  “It hurts when I breathe.”

  The words are barely past my lips when the door opens and a nurse appears. The older woman’s eyes are warm and kind when she looks at the two of us in the bed together. I know what she’s thinking. And I’m afraid Shane is going to say something about it not being what it looks like. I don’t know if I can handle his rejection, if you want to call it that, so before he can say anything, I beat him to it.

  “We’re not together,” I blurt, scrambling off his lap.

  I don’t meet his eyes, but judging by the way he so easily moves out from under me and leaves me alone in the bed, I’m sure he agrees that we shouldn’t give people the wrong idea. I busy myself with straightening the blankets as the nurse asks him to step away and give us a minute. He leaves and only then do I look back at the nurse.

  “For two people who aren’t together, he sure does care a lot about you.” She replaces the cuff on my arm and it inflates to take my blood pressure.

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Well, he hasn’t left your side but once since you arrived here. And that was just to shower and change clothes because he was still dressed in his fireman gear.”

 

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