Blazing Fear

by Leisl Leighton

  ‘Barb will take him. Or Nat and Reid.’

  Had she spoken out loud? She looked at Flynn. ‘I couldn’t …’ More coughing. She could barely get a word out. ‘Ask that of them.’

  ‘They wouldn’t take no for an answer.’

  ‘Too kind.’ She could barely keep upright, her head hanging between her shoulders, fingers digging tighter into the earth, desperate to ground herself, to stop the dizziness and shaking, her lungs on fire.

  ‘Bullshit. You’re family.’

  Her head jerked up. The movement was too much. Darkness rushed in on her and the last thing she was aware of was Flynn’s arms going around her as he called her name.

  Prita woke with a start, her eyes snapping open. Bright light stabbed into them, a flashing pain ricocheting around her head. She squeezed her eyes closed again, a moan escaping her dry throat. The light was so bright it was almost too much even through her closed eyelids.

  ‘Prita?’

  ‘Curtains. Light.’ Her throat felt as dry and crumbling as the old fence post at the back of her home. The light dimmed around her as the curtains were closed with a swish and she sighed in relief. ‘Thank you.’ Warm hands grabbed hers, lips pressing against her knuckles.

  ‘You’re awake.’

  ‘Yes.’ Just. She felt so tired. But she didn’t want to go back to sleep yet. She wanted to know what the hell Flynn was doing in her bedroom. Although, was it her bedroom? Everything was so foggy, her mind sluggish, but it sounded echoey and when he’d shut the curtain, it wasn’t on the right side of her bed.

  Now the room was darker, she felt safe opening her eyes again to check it out.

  Cautiously, she opened them a slither, then a little more. Flynn was sitting in a chair that had been pulled up beside her bed, wearing what looked like a hospital gown.

  A hospital gown?

  She moved her head cautiously, looking past him. A stark white wall featuring the kind of horrid print you only ever found in hospitals was directly behind him. The small black TV perched high on the wall to the right of the print and the heavy looking door just beyond that on the right, confirmed this was indeed a hospital room.

  Why were they both in a hospital?

  ‘You breathed in too much smoke when you ran into your house.’

  She tried to focus back on him, noting the graze high on his temple and the redness in his eyes and ran over what he’d just said to her in her head, one word sticking in her mind. ‘Smoke?’

  ‘From the fire. At your house.’

  ‘My house was on fire?’

  He flinched. ‘You don’t remember?’

  She was going to shake her head when the images of flames leapt before her eyes, the reception area on fire, smoke billowing out the door, flames encroaching on the storeroom where the stores and oxygen tanks were kept. She remembered desperately trying to put the fire out, but the water that sprayed out of the hose just wasn’t strong enough. She’d dropped the hose and run, right into Flynn.

  ‘You saved me.’

  ‘I pulled you out, yes.’

  ‘There was an explosion.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How much?’

  He didn’t ask what she meant, seeming to know by the deepening compassion in his eyes. ‘Everything. It’s all gone.’

  Their home. It was gone. Everything she’d worked so hard to achieve in the last two years, gone.

  Oh god.

  The blow was staggering, more than she thought it would be, like someone was squeezing her and slicing at her and emptying her out all at once. Then on top of this roil of sensation came the thought—How would Carter deal with losing his home? The pain emptied out of her as worry filled her up. He’d lost everything once again. Almost everything. She was still here, but she had nothing and he only had the things in his backpack. Everything was gone. Even, possibly—oh god, she hated to think it—but Machiavelli. They’d locked him in before they’d left. Was she going to have to tell Carter he’d lost his pet as well as everything else? How could she tell him that? She could only hope he’d escaped out the back door when the arsonist had broken in.

  Her breath came in a shuddering sob.

  ‘Prita? Are you okay?’

  Crap. He couldn’t know she was close to tears. She took in another deep breath, past the anguish and the hurt and the worry about what was to come. It was funny to think that pain and hurt and anguish had all been tied around him just before the fire and now none of that mattered. She was no longer angry or hurt by him and what he’d said. He’d come to find her, apparently, and had saved her life. It didn’t even matter if he’d come to continue yelling at her or to apologise. He’d said, ‘I thought I’d lost you,’ in a voice that spoke of so much loss and pain that it made her hurt. He might not want to be with her in a romantic way, but he did care.

  Somehow, that made everything just that little bit more bearable now.

  ‘Prita?’

  She waved away his help as he stood up to press the button for help. ‘I’m fine. It’s just a little bit of a shock.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘You got hurt.’

  ‘I’m fine. Just hit my head and yanked my knee. The doctor said I’ll be right as rain in a few days.’

  ‘Okay.’ At least she didn’t have that to worry about too. She took in another careful breath. ‘How is Aaron taking this? His dad a hero and everything?’

  ‘I’m hardly a hero.’ His expression was as bleak as his voice.

  ‘You pulled me from the fire. If that’s not heroic, I don’t know what is.’

  ‘I didn’t pull you from anything. I just fell down the steps with you.’

  She wasn’t sure about that, but she wasn’t going to argue the point now. ‘What about Carter? Does he know?’

  ‘Aaron and he had a sleepover with Tilly last night and it sounded like they had a great time. When I spoke to Mum earlier, she said Nat was going to tell him after breakfast.’

  ‘Okay.’ She wished she could be there for that, but didn’t want him coming into the hospital. But Nat would be gentle. ‘If he needs to talk to me—’

  ‘They’ll call.’

  She nodded and sucked in a pained breath, began to cough.

  ‘Prita? Are you okay?’

  ‘I need … to sit up.’

  Flynn slipped his arm around her back and he pulled her upright, rubbing her back, perching himself on the edge of the bed. The slow, soothing strokes he made down her back shouldn’t feel so good, but they did. She decided not to let that matter so much now.

  ‘Do you need me to go and get a nurse?’

  She shook her head—she didn’t want the fussing—and only realised then they had oxygen tubes just under her nose. At least she wasn’t ventilated or in a hyperbaric unit, so the damage was only superficial. She’d probably have to have further tests in the future to ensure there were no long-term effects of lung damage, but for now, given the treatment, it seemed they were confident she would be okay. It was stupid of her to not have wet something and wrapped it around her face before running in to fight the fire. Although, that was probably the least stupid thing she’d done. Flynn had been right. Not that she’d ever admit that to him.

  She tried to breathe in through her nose, shallow breaths to begin, then deeper as she managed to get on top of the coughing. She felt so weak, was afraid that she would fall back on her pillows and start the coughing fit up again, so she leaned further forward, her head against Flynn’s shoulder, breathing in the warm soap, citrus and salt scent of him she’d always found so appealing. His arms slipped around her as he held her upright, held her to him.

  ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’

  She nodded, her cheek rubbing against the stiff material of the hospital gown. Tears stung her eyes as the coughing fit subsided. She blinked them away. ‘Fine,’ she finally managed. ‘When can we be discharged?’

  ‘About lunch time they said. As long as the obs are fine.’

  ‘Good.’ Sh
e didn’t want to be here any longer than she had to. Despite the fact Carter was at CoalCliff and she knew he was being looked after, he would fret.

  ‘Reid will come in to pick us up after he’s gone to Target to get you and Carter some clothes and things and then come back to pick us up. Nat and Mum gave him a list.’

  ‘What?’ She sat back. ‘He can’t do that.’

  ‘What? Pick us up?’

  ‘No, buy my clothes.’

  ‘But you need some. You lost everything in the fire and you can hardly go and get them yourself.’

  ‘But, it’s too much.’

  ‘Why? What else are friends for?’

  She didn’t have an answer for that.

  ‘Mum was here earlier too, but she had to leave before you woke up. She said to tell you not to worry about where you’ll be staying, because we’ve got a spare room and you can use that for now until you’re well enough to look after yourself and then you can move into the cottage. She and Nat are going down to clean it out today or tomorrow. Nobody’s been in there since we had the last family group stay there after Christmas.’

  ‘I … but … I can’t stay with you.’

  ‘Where else are you going to stay?’

  ‘A hotel or we could rent somewhere else.’

  ‘You know Mum won’t put up with a bar of that, so don’t bother even to start humming that tune. She’s made up her mind you’re coming to stay at CoalCliff until your house can be rebuilt and that’s an end to it. You know there’s no other properties except the ones Bob Thompson owns or what’s for rental at Walhalla, and you wouldn’t want to make your patients drive along that windy road when they’re not feeling the best, would you?’

  ‘No.’ But how could she live at CoalCliff? With him? It was impossible enough as it was without them being in even closer proximity to each other. Also, they’d already done too much for her, something she was already struggling to accept given she was used to being alone and doing for herself.

  However, for now, it seemed she had little choice. ‘Thank you.’

  They were silent for a long moment, just the sound of her slightly raspy breathing and the slow stroke of his hand down her back.

  After a long moment, his voice rumbled against her ear again. ‘What were you going to see the police about last night? Was it about someone leaving dead animals at your house? I saw that possum last night. After the bird left on your desk—’

  ‘The police!’ She pushed back from him, staring at him as memory returned in full of last night. ‘We have to call the police. Now.’

  ‘We can do it when we get back to CoalCliff. Constable Bruce knows where you are—he was one of the CFAs who turned up to put the fire out.’

  ‘No, you don’t understand. Someone was there. They killed that possum and left a message on the door telling me to leave. They set the fire.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘I caught them running out.’

  Chapter 14

  Flynn gaped at her, anger and disbelief vying for precedence.

  ‘Don’t you believe me?’ She made a pffing noise before he could answer. ‘Of course you don’t. I’m just being an overly-emotional excitable woman.’

  He snorted. ‘Nobody would ever say that about you. You’re one of the most together women I know.’

  She blinked, his words obviously derailing her rant. She looked down, fiddling with the oxygen tube that lay across her lap. ‘Sorry. That was unfair. I know you’re not like that. It’s just …’ She blinked rapidly and sniffed. ‘I’ve lost everything I strove so hard to build and someone’s responsible. I’m angry and upset and not thinking straight.’

  ‘Of course.’ He reached out and stilled her hands, afraid she was going to bend the tube and stop the oxygen she still needed. ‘It’s only natural to feel that way.’

  She looked up at him. ‘Someone was there, Flynn.’

  He nodded.

  ‘You believe me?’

  ‘I saw the possum. And the threat. That didn’t get left there by your cat.’ He paused, muscle in his jaw flexing. ‘Did you recognise them?’

  She shook her head. ‘No. It was too smoky and quite frankly, I was in shock. But I’m pretty certain, from the size, and the way they smacked into me, it was a man.’ Her fingers clenched the blanket on the bed. ‘The phone calls were one thing.’

  ‘Phone calls?’

  ‘It’s what I was going to the police for last night. But that doesn’t seem to matter now.’

  ‘You’ve been getting threatening phone calls?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Had the light in the room darkened? No, that was simple fury. The same fury that was making him want to get up and punch something. Someone. But she didn’t need that. She needed him to stay calm. To listen. He shoved his hands under his legs and schooled his face to neutral. ‘What did he say?’

  She waved her hand, obviously uncomfortable to share or relive what was said. Christ. Was it that bad?

  ‘Just some swearing and telling me to leave, that I didn’t belong, that I couldn’t have what was his. It was annoying more than threatening. Except, last night, the call came to my personal mobile, not the work one like it usually did, and he told me I was going to die.’

  Usually? This had been going on for a while then? Fuck. ‘You didn’t think to mention this?’

  ‘I did. To the police. And Cherry and Frank knew. The police really couldn’t do anything, said it was probably young people playing pranks, although Constable Bruce did go and talk to Bob Thompson, but of course he denied it.’ She gasped then.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Do you think they upped the ante even further? That they started the fire?’ She shook her head before he could answer. ‘No. They could have caused a serious fire. One that spread. Why would any local do that, even if they hated me that much?’

  He shrugged. Nobody he knew—not even Bob Thompson—would have started a fire. Especially not at this time of year. The fire had to have been an accident. It had to be. Why leave a dead animal at the door with a threat written in blood and set a fire? It didn’t make sense. Not to mention the thought that they had an arsonist in the area sent shivers through him. They’d thought it was only careless campers who’d left that fire alight near the property, but what if it was something more? What if someone had a grudge against Prita? Although, why would they be setting fires near CoalCliff if that was the case? Maybe it was local businesses they had a problem with. Or, maybe it was just a big coincidence and he was getting carried away with the whole thing. The two things were probably not connected at all.

  Not that that mattered right now. What did matter was that someone had killed that possum, left a nasty message for her on her door in blood and set her house on fire.

  ‘I’ll call the police.’

  The relief on her face was almost painful to witness. ‘Thank you.’ She grabbed his hands and squeezed them. ‘Thank you for believing me.’

  Of course he believed her. Why would she think he wouldn’t? Was it because he’d destroyed her trust last night when he’d been such a horrible arse? He had so much to make up for. Starting now. ‘I’ll get the nurse to call them now.’

  She held his hands as he stood, and he didn’t pull away. Just looked down into those beautiful eyes with their flecks of amber, the loss, the fear, the worry, reflected so clearly in them. All he wanted to do was lean in and gather her into his arms and hold her close, comforting her, telling her it would all be fine, that he would take care of it and her and Carter. But he couldn’t. It wasn’t his place. Would never, could never, be his place.

  Yet, he couldn’t let go as she held onto him, his thumb stroking across the back of her hand the only comfort he could offer.

  Christ her skin was soft.

  His gaze fluttered to her mouth. A little breath fluttered out of her and her tongue flicked out and wet those luscious lips. He’d never forget what they’d felt like under his. Soft, ripe pillows of heaven.

&
nbsp; Hell, he wanted to kiss her so badly. Only to prove to himself that he’d beat the whole thing up in his imagination, of course. Nothing could have felt that good.

  ‘Flynn?’

  His gaze met hers and he felt himself being drawn in, drawn down, towards her, towards the madness only she could create in him.

  ‘Prita?’

  She jerked at the sound of the voice behind him, her fingers tightening around his so that her grip was almost painful. ‘No,’ she breathed, so softly he wouldn’t have heard the sound if he hadn’t already been looking at her face, her lips. He straightened, pulled his hand from hers, embarrassed by the tableau they must have presented for whoever had just walked in the door behind him. Someone he really should thank given they’d just saved him from making a massive mistake. Again. Not that he would make the mistake of saying that. Again. Better to ignore it.

  He turned to face the man standing stock still in the half open doorway, staring at them, his gaze darting from her to him and back again.

  ‘Prita?’

  Flynn’s hackles rose. There was something in the man’s tone, a familiarity, an expectation and disapproval, added to affection that he didn’t like. He also didn’t like the way he looked—well dressed, very handsome, white teeth flashing in skin a couple of shades darker than Prita’s, dark hair cut in what must be a fashionable style, brushing across his brow just so. Flynn lifted his hand to his own shaggy mess and ran his fingers through it. ‘Do you know this man?’