Dallas Fire & Rescue: Commanding Heat (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Fiery Fairy Tales Book 3)

by Siera London

“I could be.” He heard the laughter in her voice.

  “Turn over.”

  She giggled and did as he asked. “I thought we tried this position already.” They were face-to-face now.

  “Woman, get your mind out of my boxers.”

  “Oh, I thought I had gotten rid of all of those last night.”

  “We can arrange that,” he laughed.

  “Please do.”

  She trailed her fingers down his abdomen.

  “You ready to talk about the room across the hall and this scar?”

  He wasn’t, but for her he’d try. After their second lovemaking session, she’d asked him about the wound. Instead, he’d pulled her beneath him and loved her past the point of exhaustion.

  “It was my sister’s room.”

  “Oh.” Trace could hear the surprise in Tori’s voice.

  “So,” her voice soft, “the best friend and the books...belonged to your sister.”

  When he didn’t say anything more, she tried to circle his body and pull him in for an embrace. It had been a long time since another comforted him. That it was her, pleased him. It felt good to mention his sister. Time had faded the bad memories under the bright light of the good times they had shared.

  “After she finished college, the plan was for her to relocate from Colorado to Key West. Our parents had died in a car accident and there was no reason for her to return to the Samoan islands. But, she met someone on campus. She didn’t realize it until it was too late, but her new boyfriend was a heroin addict. She started using. I put her in treatment programs a few times, but she never stayed. Six years ago, she called and said she wanted help getting clean. I flew to Denver, got to her place, and found her coming down off a high. We argued, and then...it happened so fast. She ran. I tried to stop her. She grabbed the knife from the block and lunged for me. I saw the blade. Knew I had failed her. When the tip pierced my skin, the knowledge that I hadn’t protected her, hurt worse than the actual jagged cut.”

  “No, no...” Tori plead. “You tried to save her. Somewhere inside she knew you loved her. What happened next?”

  “She called an ambulance, and then overdosed herself on heroin before they arrived. She took care of me, staunched the bleeding until the paramedics got there. Guess she remembered some of the things I’d taught her during my training.”

  “Oh God.”

  “She died in my arms.” He squeezed Tori harder. Neither of them spoke for long seconds. “Teuila would’ve liked you.”

  “I’m so sorry, Trace.”

  Her voice held genuine regret at his loss, but not pity.

  It didn’t hurt so much to talk about it now. Teuila was in a better place and so was he. Tori made him want to live again.

  Trace captured her face between his palms. “I want you to stay.”

  Her smile slipped. He expected her to say something, but instead caught the glimpse of fear that crossed her face. Trace sat up and pulled her onto his lap.

  “Tell me right now why you can’t stay with me?”

  “Trace you don’t know what you’re asking for. The trouble that’s coming for me won’t hesitate to destroy you. My leaving is for the both of us.”

  He raised up onto his elbow to stare down at her.

  “Help me to understand your logic because I’m confused as hell.” He tried to control his anger. She had feelings for him, but she was too scared to explore the possibility of their future together.

  “You want to be here with me?”

  He narrowed his eyes at her when it looked like she would try and deny she had feelings for him. He wouldn’t allow her to leave his arms without some answers to where they were headed.

  “I do. Being in your arms, having the chance to know love with you means the world to me, but...”

  “You won’t stay because of this,” he said yanking her arm up to reveal the track marks.

  Frustration reigned in his head. He knew how junkies behaved. Had lived the cruel reality of having a drug addict in his life. Tori’s story was somehow different.

  For once, she pulled her arm back.

  “I’m not a junkie. Only thing remotely suspicious in my background is I pawned my mother’s ruby rose pendant to buy my bus ticket here and get a few things.”

  He knew that without her telling him, but when she didn’t say anything more, he snapped.

  “Who did this to you?”

  The defiance he was accustomed to from her drained away.

  “Let’s just say my guardian has friends with prescriptive authority.”

  “Oh.” Trace frowned. A reputable healthcare provider would never ravage her flesh and cause the damage that was evident on Tori. No, the scars he saw were the physical evidence of sadistic brutality and neglect.

  “Why?” he growled.

  “Look, it’s a past best left unspoken. You don’t have to look at them.”

  “But, you like to, don’t you?” He’d noticed her staring at her scarred arms more than once. A few times he’d watched as she idly rubbed over the marks, like she could erase them. “You’re comfortable with people seeing your scars.”

  She didn’t want to hide. Yet, she was in hiding. He knew it with every fiber of his being. She didn’t trust him to help her. No woman should ever be terrified of a man she trusted or one that would take advantage of her trust.

  She glanced down at her arms and shrugged. “They remind me that there are demons in this world. Demons that unleash something in you that you never knew existed.”

  “Does this demon have a name?”

  She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. When she spoke next, he could hear the unease lacing her words. “Like would be a poor choice of words to describe how I feel about my birth marks.”

  So, she wasn’t going to give him a name.

  “Birth marks?” No one came out of the womb with stenciled arms like hers.

  “What I went through gave birth to a different woman.”

  “You trust me with your body, but not your safekeeping?”

  “After what I’ve suffered, surrendering my body to you last night was safekeeping personified, Trace.”

  The sadness reflected in her eyes told him more than he wanted to know about their situation. They didn’t have much time left.

  She tried to scramble off his lap, but he stopped her. “Talk.”

  “You know I’m a little impulsive. He believes I need help to control my behavior.”

  “And his name is?” Trace pressed again.

  “Denton Drake, but his name doesn’t matter. My father is the key. My mother died of a ruptured aneurysm when I was seventeen. Nine months later, my father suffered a second heart attack. Denton was there for both of us. Father trusted Denton with his very life,” she stammered, “and mine.”

  “How so?”

  “My father added a marriage stipulation to my trust. On my twenty-fifth birthday, if I’m married, I’ll gain access to my trust and fifty percent of my father’s company. Denton manipulated my father into surrendering control of the company to him. He hired a team of physicians to manage my father’s care. They kept him drugged and when I tried to help, they...they–let’s just say Denton can be very convincing.”

  She didn’t have to finish the sentence. He rubbed at the scars on her arms.

  “He had you drugged.” Fury ignited in Trace’s blood, but when she began to tremble he tightened his arm around her hips and pulled her closer, wishing he could have been there to protect her.

  She nodded. “Six months with only my silent screams. No control over who looked at me, who touched me, the voices surrounding me.”

  She was watching for his reaction, but Trace didn’t blame her for any of it. Denton Drake had taken advantage of a young girl mourning her mother. Her tormenter would feel his wrath. He looked at his woman. In Tori’s eyes, Trace would be powerless to stop the man coming for her. But, she was wrong.

  “With Denton at the helm, the both of you will have to share po
wer?” Trace questioned.

  “That’s not exactly how it’ll work.”

  Trace rolled on top of her. “Tell me everything,” he growled. She was censoring the information. Why would another man coming to take her away not matter?

  “Because I agreed to marry him.”

  Trace stiffened, and then he took a deep inhale, consciously ordering his muscles to relax. “Huh.”

  She looked up, eyes wide. “You’re not upset with me?”

  He leaned forward, placing a kiss on her forehead.

  He gave a sly grin. “No, Princess, I’m not upset.”

  “Why aren’t you more,” she waved her hands in the air, “manic about my being engaged?”

  “Because, that shit ain’t gonna happen.” He shifted his hips, simultaneously spreading her legs wide to receive him.

  “There’s more.”

  “I’m all ears, Princess.”

  “My birthday is the day after tomorrow.”

  “We’ll have to start the celebration early because I’m on rotation tomorrow night.”

  “You’re really not bothered by all this?”

  Odd, he felt a kindred spirit in Tori. Teuila was his only family. It left him raw that he wasn’t able to keep the predators at bay, giving her a chance to experience life. Somehow, through that stab wound, he’d traded places with her. Imprisoning himself in guilt and shame, he become addicted to this internal pain. When the anger at Teuila, and at his failure finally surfaced, coupled with the nightmares of her charging at him with that knife aimed at his heart, he’d turned the sense of betrayal inward. Better to bear the burden in silence than to tarnish his sister’s memory. They’d only had each other. Trace had been the oldest. It had been his responsibility to get her some place safe, keep her clean. No matter how many times she’d walked away, he should have followed. He wouldn’t repeat his mistake.

  “I’m bothered that you think you have to leave me.” He kissed her. “Let me worry about Denton. After breakfast,” he winked, “I’ll drive you down to Hobo Alley for that job.”

  With him on duty overnight, Rachel would keep an eye on Tori. He’d talk with Kendall about her Grandmother Dinah and her housemate, Mrs. Elliott keeping Tori close by in the evenings.

  “You’ve changed your mind?”

  “Something like that.” Nathan and Cutler would have to be in the loop. Not much happened in town without those two knowing something about it. “You stay with me and I’ll take care of you.” He tucked her head beneath his chin. Where she would stay.

  ✥

  Tori grabbed another order from the end of the bar and loaded her tray. Trace had driven her to work and proceeded to stand guard at the bar. He was serious about her not leaving his sight. If a guy even smiled at her, he was flexing like a muscle head on an ego trip. Claudia had returned to work. The competition that Tori had anticipated from the seasoned waitress was unfounded. Claudia had welcomed her with open arms.

  When there was a lull in the Saturday afternoon crowd, Claudia led them out the rear entrance to the small storeroom and employee lounge behind the bar. She was grateful for the break. Tori’s voice was hoarse from talking over the jukebox. The first drunk of the day had knocked a tray from Tori’s portering arm and stepped on her toes. The space was little more than a prefabricated utility shed with metal shelves lining one wall and four wooden tables for counting inventory. The information extraction session started immediately.

  “So, what’s going on with you and Trace?”

  Claudia’s natural blonde curls courtesy of #10NB were piled high on her head. It reminded Tori of a beehive. There were rhinestones embedded in her hot pink manicure. She wore the signature black Hobo Alley t-shirt except she’d added a rhinestone pendant with the words ‘high class’ in all capital letters where her name tag should have been.

  Tori was grateful that the question focused on Trace and not her. So far, no one had asked her about her last name or where she was from. Rachel hadn’t questioned her when she asked to be paid in cash. She figured they thought she was on the run from a crazy ex-boyfriend or something. And that was kind of the truth. Denton needed her to seize complete control. With the money in her trust and control of her company shares, she would be at his mercy. Even if she managed to escape again, he had her father. This was her last chance to save her father. They would run fast, hard, and far. But Denton had the Currey family resources to locate them as long as her father was incapacitated. Plus, he knew eventually she’d have to contact her father. All he really had to do was wait her out. Without any money or friends she could trust, she was on her own, except for Trace.

  “Trace and I are getting to know one another.”

  “Oh, yeah.” She grinned. “Is he any good at it?”

  Tori’s mouth fell open. The corners of the older woman’s eyes crinkled.

  “I don’t kiss and tell.”

  Claudia laughed out right. “Leave out the kissing parts and get to the juicy stuff,” the woman said sinking down onto her elbow.

  Tori sobered. Why was the woman interested in the details of her and Trace? Had Denton gotten to her. She’d learned that everyone had a price, even those who’d taken an oath to do no harm.

  Claudia drew back and regarded the frown Tori knew covered her face. “Slow down, Tori. I’m no threat. It’s just that Trace is kind of mysterious. After everything that went down out west, he keeps to himself. You’re the first woman he’s ever brought in the place. I’m just a nosey lady. Not interested in a cat fight with a twenty-year old.”

  “Twenty-four-year-old,” she corrected.

  “Oh, so you’re younger than his–” Claudia stopped talking.

  Tori flipped her hair out of her face, rolling her shoulders to release the tension. “I know about Teuila. But, I’ve never asked Trace his age.”

  When she’d awoke to find him at her bedside, renewed hope fired to life deep inside. His voice, those dark eyes, and his name had sandblasted themselves into her memory. For her, Trace would remain ageless. He’d given her the fairytale dream with their night together.

  “Get it, girlie. The sex must be amazing if you haven’t even asked the man’s age.” Claudia slapped her knee. Her eyes dazzled with the nugget of information she’d gleaned. “He’s thirty-one, by the way.”

  With a satisfied smile, the waitress sauntered off. The cellphone Trace had picked up for her on the way to Hobo Alley chimed. It was a text message from him.

  She read it. Why don’t I see you?

  She replied. Seek and ye shall find the newest employee.

  A minute later the door marked ‘STAFF ONLY’ burst open. Trace dressed in a black t-shirt, black jeans, and black boots strode through, sucking up all the oxygen, first out of the room, and then her lungs.

  He lifted a brow, questioning why she was hanging in the back room alone.

  She crooked a finger, beckoning him forward. “Waiting for you.” She grinned.

  When he reached her, he swatted her bottom. “Next time call first. No vanishing acts. I have seven o’clock reservations for two.”

  When he waggled his brows, she started shaking her head, though she couldn’t stop giggling.

  “No hanky panky allowed in the storeroom. I need this job.”

  Tori opened her arms to him.

  “You need me, more.”

  Never had it been this way. Her father had kept her under lock and key until Denton came along. At first, he’d seemed to genuinely care for her, but it had been an act. What she had with Trace was real. Before Trace, she never would’ve believed in love at first sight. But from the moment she’d opened her eyes, seen him walking out the door, she knew she wanted him. Now she knew, she loved him. Trace let her embrace him, and then he lifted her off her feet.

  “True.” Gosh, if she let him. he’d keep her feet off the ground. Who knew a man could feel so good in her arms?

  Tori reached up, ready to kiss Trace senseless. A crash sounded at his back, and then a tower
of glasses careened toward the cement floor.

  Tori screamed. Two men with extended batons stood in the doorway. Both were focused on her. The one on the right was average height. He sported a graying ponytail and thick arms, but he was too wide to be considered athletic. Maybe he worked as a meaty bouncer at a hillbilly bar. The guy on the left had a scar over his left eye that looked fresh and a nose that probably looked better broken. This one looked as if he could give and take some damage.

  Trace growled low in his throat. “Both of you, get out of here.”

  Both men grinned. Tori recoiled at the array of broken and missing teeth between the pair. Instant concern for Trace overwhelmed her. She had a feeling if she agreed to go with them, Trace would still bear their calling card.

  Scar spoke up. “Give us the girl and we won’t hurt you too bad.”

  Trace took a step forward. With a hand behind his back he motioned for her to stay.

  Facing the men, he gave a harsh laugh. “I’m going to give you twin concussions.”

  Meaty lunged for her. Truly, she had no idea how he moved so fast. In a synchronized move, Scar attacked Trace. Instincts kicking in, Tori scrambled through the maze of tables while keeping an eye on Trace. If she ran fast enough, maybe she could beat Meaty to the storeroom door, but she couldn’t leave Trace.

  From the corner of her eye, she glanced in Trace’s direction. Tori’s mouth fell open. Trace had dropped low into a fighting stance. Before she could warn him not to risk injury, he moved in a lightning fast circular movement. His leg shot out. Scar came up off his feet before falling backwards. His head struck the door. A crunchy thwack sounded. Tori’s eyes widened. That move. She’d seen Lima Lama techniques before, but she never imagined Trace practiced Samoan marital arts. His fluid grace and strength was a deadly dance that riveted her.

  Beefy hands clipped her waist, the motion sending her torso full speed ahead.

  “Get your hands off me, meat head. My boyfriend is going to break your stupid face.” Arms raised over her head, Tori used her hands to tear at his hair. The more he thrashed the harder she pulled, until strands broke free.

  “Ouch...you witch.”

  A whole lot scared and a little enraged, Tori threw her head back and nailed him in the mouth. He yelled out and smacked her lower leg hard with the baton.