“No,” Nick answered. “Brian and one of the other guys are injured. We’ve been carrying them for several miles, but they need medical attention now.”
There was no hiding the desperation in Nick’s voice.
Shit. No. He wasn’t ready to watch another one of his brothers carried away from a fire on a stretcher, his life forever changed because of a decision Erik had made.
Beside him, the other guys from his search team poured into the clearing. Chief jogged up beside them, leaning over with his hands on his knees to catch his breath. Looking up at Erik, he said, “Now what?”
Every pair of eyes turned to him, waiting for orders. He was the one with the experience and training to handle this situation. Erik felt a tremor of fear rocking his body but pushed it back. Refused to let it take hold.
At least not until they had those men safe.
“Two of the men are injured and need medical assistance. They can’t travel anymore. I can’t find a break in the flames, which means we’re going to have to go through them.”
The men around him shared grim looks, but no one argued.
The firefighters took up positions within the team without further discussion. They hadn’t worked together and the roles weren’t rehearsed, but that didn’t matter.
Checking his own protective gear, Erik took a deep breath, picked the spot with the lowest flames and ran full-tilt toward them. The sensation was difficult to describe, fire surrounding his entire body for moments that felt so long but probably took only a few heartbeats.
A few seconds later, another member of the group followed him. Together, they transported the injured men, one suffering from burns and the other from a potential broken ankle, across the flames. Twenty minutes after Erik had found them, all five missing firefighters were safe.
Medflight had been called to pick up the injured men as Erik had worked to rescue the others, so he had no idea how Brian was.
Sweat and soot mixed on his skin. As soon as it was safe, Erik ripped his gear off. Despite the heavy weight of smoke still clogging the air, for the first time in hours he felt like he could breathe.
He tugged his soaked shirt over his head and used it to wipe grime from his face. Pure adrenaline was still pumping into his system, but he knew it would disappear soon enough and he’d probably crash. In the meantime, he needed to find out about Brian.
Walking across to the cluster of men standing at the edge of the clearing, Erik was intent on asking, but didn’t get a chance. From behind, someone snagged his arm and spun him.
“Erik, you’re hurt.”
He turned to find Chief gingerly gripping his left arm, holding it up and out. His answer was automatic. “No, I’m not.” But the minute the words escaped his mouth, the pain hit, hot and hard.
It stole his breath, ripping up his arm and across his chest in a throbbing path. Jerking his gaze down, Erik was stunned to see red, angry streaks running across the back of his left hand and up his wrist and forearm. When had he gotten burned?
“How did that happen?” he asked. He’d been wearing his protective gear. No, wait. Frustrated because he couldn’t get the gear onto Brian, he’d ripped off his own gloves and hadn’t put them back on. “Shit, I didn’t even feel it.”
Chief didn’t bother responding, instead grabbing the radio attached to his shoulder and calling for an ambulance. Any other day, Erik might have argued, but considering everything that had happened in the last forty-eight hours and the pain tearing through his gut, he decided medical attention was his best option.
At least in the back of an ambulance he couldn’t fuck up and get anyone else hurt.
* * *
THE LAST FEW hours had been a whirlwind, fighting his own doctors while he tried to find out Brian’s and the other firefighter’s condition. Erik allowed his burns to be treated only after he heard the news: Brian’s broken ankle required surgery but he was doing well, and the other man had mostly second-degree burns and would recover.
Erik had been lucky, as well. The burns on his hand and arm were first-degree, even though they were severe enough to blister badly. He’d need to keep them clean and bandaged, but they would heal within a few weeks.
He’d be out of commission for a while, though, so when he was released, he was told to go straight home. The first thing he wanted to do was call Lola, but it was so late that he was afraid he’d wake her.
Instead, he drove straight to her place and found every light in the house blazing, Lola asleep on the sofa.
Normally he’d have gently gathered her into his arms and carried her back to bed, but with his hand wrapped in about half a roll of gauze, that wasn’t really an option. Especially when right about now he was regretting his refusal to take painkillers at the hospital. His whole arm throbbed, sore and hot.
Still, he wasn’t about to let her spend all night on the couch.
Kneeling beside her, Erik let his uninjured fingers slip across her forehead and down her cheek. “Lola,” he murmured. “Baby, wake up.”
She whimpered and stirred. Her arms tightened around her middle as he continued to stroke her face. “Lo,” he tried again.
Slowly her eyes fluttered open. They were deep and sad, which made a knot the size of a fist form in his belly.
“Baby, what’s wrong?”
“Erik.” The sharp pink tip of her tongue snuck out, sweeping across her parted lips. At least he wasn’t in so much pain that he couldn’t notice—and respond—to the little things. Now his hand wasn’t the only thing throbbing.
And suddenly, the idea of burying himself deep inside her, wrapping himself in the sweet heat of Lola, was the only remedy he wanted.
Erik dragged his thumb across her slick bottom lip, but her response wasn’t what he’d expected. Instead of leaning into his caress, she pulled away, breaking the contact.
She sat up, using her hands to sweep her cloud of hair away from her face.
“You’re okay,” she said.
“Of course I am.”
Her gaze darted over his body, cataloging everything in a split second. “What happened to your hand?”
“Burns, first-degree. I had to get to some of our guys who were in trouble. Everyone’s fine. Brian broke his ankle, but he’s already out of surgery and should be good as new in a couple months. Another guy has second-degree burns across his torso and leg, but it could be worse. They don’t think grafts will be necessary. He’ll recover.”
She nodded, her expression shuttered. Something twisted in his gut.
“Why didn’t you call me?” she asked.
“Everything happened so fast.” He reached for a lock of hair and tried to tuck it behind her ear, but she jerked out of his grasp.
No, not good.
“They whisked me away in an ambulance,” he explained, “took my clothes, my phone, everything.”
“And you couldn’t ask a nurse to call me?”
“I didn’t think about it. I just wanted to get treated and released. Besides, it’s the middle of the night. I thought you’d be asleep and didn’t want to wake you.”
Lola pushed up from the sofa and brushed past him, her body stiff with tension. Spinning on her heel, she pinned him with a look.
Her voice was even and low, firm, as she said, “I’m glad you’re okay, but I think you should go.”
“What?” Erik took a step toward her.
But Lola held out her hands. “Don’t.”
“Lola, what’s going on?”
“Nothing. Nothing except me coming to my senses and realizing that this has no future. I can’t do this anymore, Erik. I can’t risk putting everything I have into you when you’re never going to be willing to do the same for me.”
Erik shook his head, bewildered. “I don’t understand.”
&n
bsp; “And that’s part of the problem. Hope and Willow came to tell me what was going on tonight. I talked to my dad. Several of the firefighters’ wives called to check on me. But you, you didn’t bother. I worried about you all night, Erik. For the last two days, actually.”
The accusation in her voice cut deep. “I’m sorr—”
“That’s not going to fix this. For the last seven hours I’ve lived with the possibility that you might be gone.” Fear sparked in the back of her gaze, finally pushing against the blank darkness.
“I’m right here, baby.”
“For how long? You’re going to leave. I’ve always known that. For someone who grew up hoping to be anyone but his father, you’ve definitely gotten the whole running away thing down.”
Her words sliced through him, hurting a hell of a lot worse than his injuries ever could.
“The bottom line is, I can’t count on you. I never could. The baby and I don’t need you here, Erik. Go home to California.”
Everything she said played into his worst fears and deepest anxieties. She was right. She couldn’t count on him because he always screwed up. Just like tonight when he’d sent those men straight into danger. Just like with Colt.
She wasn’t wrong, and her words dredged up the one idea he couldn’t quite banish—he didn’t deserve her or the happiness she gave him.
And Lola had finally figured it out.
13
LOLA HADN’T EXPECTED Erik’s resigned acceptance and quiet exit from her life—again. He hadn’t fought or argued. Had barely looked at her as he’d nodded and walked out her door.
And that was it. Her world crushed, a second time.
She’d gotten so little sleep lately that she basically spent twenty-four hours in bed. Once her friends, brother and dad learned about her fight with Erik they all stopped by to check on her, but she communicated little aside from assuring them that she was healthy and just needed some time.
She wasn’t ready to talk about it.
The next day she forced herself out of bed and back into her normal routine. She was the one who’d made the decision to end things. Lola was pretty sure wallowing wasn’t allowed in that situation. At least, not for long.
Part of her was waiting—for Erik to show up and argue with her. For him to fight for their relationship. For him to reassure her that he really was in this for the long haul.
Instead, she found out from Colt that he’d gone back to California.
And in that moment, any hope she’d been harboring withered and died. In its place bloomed the realization that she’d pushed him away. Erik had left her once, deciding what they had wasn’t enough. So she’d forced him to that point again, hoping he’d choose her this time.
He hadn’t.
His actions reinforced what she’d already known. They could never have worked. Yes, she was still going to have to figure out how to coparent with him. They had a few months before they’d deal with that. A few months for her to lick her wounds, heal her shattered heart and figure out how to put her child’s needs above her own.
A few months—not something she needed to tackle today.
Today, and probably for the next few weeks, Lola decided she was perfectly within her rights to be grumpy and miserable.
“God, you two are a pair,” Colt grumbled.
“What?” Lola asked, jerking her gaze up from the computer screen she’d been staring blindly at for heaven only knew how long.
“Erik came by yesterday wearing pretty much the exact same expression. I’ve never met two people more perfect for each other so hell-bent on screwing everything up.”
“We’re not perfect for each other.” The last few days proved that.
“Bullshit. I’ve watched you both for years, Lola. Trust me when I say you’re perfect together. You bring out the best in Erik, remind him that life isn’t always serious and heavy. It isn’t all responsibility or making up for his father’s shortcomings. And he does the same for you, forces you to slow down and appreciate what you’ve worked so hard to achieve. He draws out that gorgeous smile no one gets to see nearly enough. He forces you out from behind the lens and into the action.”
Lola sucked in a harsh breath. He did do that for her. Tears clogged her throat, thickening her words. “He left.”
“According to him it was because you didn’t give him any choice.”
She shook her head. “He could have refused. Could have fought.”
Colt raised a single eyebrow. “Because you were in the frame of mind to listen?”
No, she hadn’t been. She’d been so wrapped up in her own anger, doubt and misery that she wouldn’t have heard much of anything. But he’d more than just left her house. He’d left the damn state.
“Did you even tell him about your scare with the baby?”
Lola didn’t answer, which was pretty much answer enough.
“That’s what I thought. You can’t punish him for something he didn’t even know was happening, Lo.”
“But he wasn’t there!” she hollered, then gasped. She wasn’t talking about a few days ago.
God, she was so messed up. “He wasn’t there,” she murmured again, because even realizing she was still holding on to her hurt and pain from before didn’t make it go away.
Slowly Colt rolled over to her. He placed his fingers beneath her chin and forced her to look at him. “I know, but you’re going to have to forgive him.”
She’d thought she had. Really. But apparently she’d just hoped that eventually she could.
“I don’t know how,” she whispered. “How did you?”
Colt shrugged. “It took me a while to shoulder the blame for my own actions, Lo. But once I did, forgiving him for everything that came afterward was just a matter of seeing things from his perspective.”
“You make it sound so damn easy.”
He laughed. “Trust me, it’s not. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I needed to do it for me. I needed to do it for him. Because I knew one day he’d be back and he’d need me to look him in the eye and tell him it was okay. To reassure him that I could see him clearly, as the brother he’s always been.”
Tears clogged Lola’s throat, scratchy and choking.
“You love him, Lo.”
“Of course I do.” She could feel her heart trembling, throbbing with the pain of her reality. “But sometimes love isn’t enough. We just can’t seem to get it right, and I’m tired of being the one to end up hurt.”
A sad expression crossed his face. “I’m going to tell you what I told him. Sometimes love doesn’t last or work, or the people we care about leave or die. But that doesn’t mean you walk away from the possibility of it when you have the chance to try. Especially when the only thing holding you back is fear.”
* * *
THE LAST TWO days had been a blur. With nothing to keep him in Sweetheart, Erik had done exactly what Lola had told him to do. He’d left.
This time, leaving had hurt so much worse. Six years ago he’d been running from guilt and fear. This time, those fears had come to life when Lola had looked at him with that frozen expression and told him he was just like his father.
She wasn’t wrong.
Standing on the balcony of his apartment, staring up at the clear blue sky, Erik realized that California wasn’t home anymore, if it ever had been. None of the places he’d lived since leaving Sweetheart had been, so he’d never stayed long.
Hell, even looking around his place, it was clear he’d barely taken the time to make it livable. The furniture was sparse and functional. There was only a handful of photographs, mostly of his mother, except for one blown up and framed above his sofa.
He loved that beach scene Lola had photographed on a family vacation to the coast when she was eighteen.
It was the one constant no matter where he went.
Even his job...he’d been away for two months now and barely missed it. Before he would have sworn that he was addicted to the adrenaline rush and the way fighting wildfires made him feel alive.
But that had been a half truth, too. Yes, there were aspects of it he’d miss, but being a smoke jumper wasn’t the only thing that made him feel alive.
Touching Lola had always given him the same rush. The way she’d looked at him—back then and now—with admiration and acceptance in her gaze...that was true addiction. He wanted that every day of his life.
He’d gone to see Colt before he’d left. The least he could do was tell him goodbye this time. But that conversation hadn’t gone nearly as expected.
Colt had been pissed, not just because he’d hurt Lola, but because he was running away. Again. Hurting them both.
At first, Erik had let Colt yell at him. He’d deserved it. Right up until he’d used his chair to literally back Erik into a corner, berating him to the point that he’d finally fought back, screaming that Lola was better off without him.
Just saying those words out loud had changed everything.
Colt scoffed at his deepest fear, dismissing it out of hand and logically picking apart every argument he’d thrown at him for why he didn’t deserve to be happy.
Hours later, it was clear that Colt was going to make a wonderful therapist because Erik’s entire world had been turned upside down by the things Colt had made him admit and see.
And he’d finally laid some of the fears that had driven him away to rest.
But not all of them.
He knew Lola was angry with him, for things he’d done now and things he’d done then. She might never be able to forgive him, and that thought scared the shit out of him.
But Colt was right. He couldn’t let fear rule his life anymore. It was time to grow up and become the man—the father—he’d always wanted to be.
Up in Flames Page 16