Face the Flames

by Jo Davis

  Jogging for the main buildings, he chose the direction the other detectives hadn’t gone. They’d find her faster if they spread out. Hopefully he could avoid getting in trouble by claiming he was looking for more victims—which was mostly the truth.

  “Melissa!” he shouted. Again and again, he looked. Methodically, he searched each of the buildings, only to find dead men. There was one injured, and he had to carry that victim back to his crew before resuming his search.

  Pausing outside a side door to a large building, one of the only ones not yet on fire, he heard loud voices coming from inside—and one of them belonged to a woman. Heart pounding, he quietly pushed his way inside and followed the sounds of the voices raised in anger. Keeping to the shadows, he crept forward and saw Melissa and her uncle in a standoff.

  The man was holding a lighter; both of them were armed with their weapons pointed at each other. The sight froze his blood. There were large containers everywhere, and the unmistakable aroma of fermenting alcohol. The asshole was methodically setting his facilities on fire, probably to get rid of the evidence.

  “How did you get the cuffs off?” Melissa asked him, her tone angry.

  He held up the broken links. “One of my men obliged me by shooting them.”

  “What do you hope to accomplish? You’ll still have to answer for attempting to murder a police officer.”

  “Not if I get rid of you along with the evidence,” he sneered at her.

  “We’re at a stalemate, James. Drop the weapon.” She adjusted her grip. “You can get out of this alive.”

  “Oh, I know I can. It’s you who won’t.”

  He took a shot, and Melissa dove to the floor, returning fire. As he ducked for cover behind a large tank, she scrambled to get around him for a better shot. Clay was trying to make his way toward her when James opened fire again, hitting a tank and puncturing the side. Liquid began to spill onto the floor and spread, a recipe for disaster.

  As they traded shots, Clay noted that the liquid had spread to where her uncle was standing, and he didn’t seem to notice. One spark, and this place was going up in flames.

  He’d almost reached her when his fears came to fruition.

  One of Melissa’s shots hit a tank and ricocheted, creating a spark. The spark became a flame that grew and ignited with a whoosh—and shot toward the spot where her uncle stood.

  Instantly the man was engulfed in flames, and his screams reverberated in Clay’s brain. Burning alive was one of the most horrible deaths imaginable. He couldn’t bring himself to feel too sorry for the asshole, but he wished Melissa didn’t have to see it.

  Just as James crumpled to the floor, Clay grabbed her hand and yanked her to his chest. “Thank God you’re okay!”

  “Where did you come from?” she gasped.

  “We got called out. He’s set fire to a lot of the buildings, plus there’s plenty of injured, including Tonio.”

  “How is he?”

  “He’ll be okay, but we have to get out of here,” he urged, pulling her with him toward the door. “Those stills are going to go any second!”

  Behind them, the fire became another living dragon as they raced toward the door. Clay pushed her outside ahead of him as a great whoosh sounded. The whole area seemed to hold its breath. He grabbed her from behind, was taking her to the ground, covering her with his own body, and then—

  BOOM.

  The blast hit his back with the force of a freight train. A hard blow slammed into the back of his head.

  And the world went black.

  • • •

  Melissa’s ears were ringing. She couldn’t hear much, but they were alive.

  “Clay?” Her voice sounded muffled to her own ears. His weight was pressed against her back, protecting her from the fallout. But he wasn’t moving at all. “Clay?”

  No. No, no.

  Frantically, she tried wiggling out from under him, but he was heavy in his turnout clothes, a deadweight centered right on top of her.

  “Help! Help us!”

  What if—no, she wouldn’t think that. He was okay. He had to be. She wasn’t sure how long she struggled to free herself, but suddenly his body was lifted off her. Quickly she sat up to see some of his teammates, as well as hers, surrounding them. Clay’s captain and Zack Knight were gently placing him onto his back.

  She crawled to her lover, heart jammed in her throat. “Clay?”

  “Let them work on him,” Shane said, crouching beside her to lay a hand on her shoulder.

  Her hand went over her mouth as tears spilled down her cheeks. Clay was too still, his face pale. Hurriedly they opened his turnout coat and loosened his clothing. Howard checked his pulse as the rest of them held their breaths.

  “He’s breathing,” he said, and the relief was palpable. “But he’s not out of the woods.”

  “He’s got a head injury.” Zack held up his hand, which was covered in blood.

  Helplessly she watched as they got him hooked to an IV and monitored his vitals. He had to live. She was finally happy with a man she loved.

  “He’s survived much worse,” Shane said gently. “Try not to worry.”

  “I’ll try,” she said with a sob. Shane’s arm went around her, and she leaned into his comfort.

  In minutes, they had him ready to transport. Julian said she could ride in the back with him and Clay. Zack would drive the ambulance. She didn’t care who drove as long as she could be at his side.

  Once they had Clay loaded into the back, she climbed in after him and Julian. The back doors were secured, and soon they were bouncing over the road headed back to town. Julian strapped an oxygen mask over Clay’s face, but he hadn’t stirred so far.

  “Do you think he’ll be okay?” she asked anxiously.

  “Yeah, I do. He’s come too far to go down like this.” Julian’s dark eyes grew suspiciously wet, and he shook his head. “Sorry. It’s been a night.”

  “Yeah. How’s Tonio?” She knew he was upset about his brother being shot, too. He had to be under tremendous strain, and yet he was holding up.

  “He’ll be fine. He was conscious and bitching when the guys from Station Two took him in.” He paused. “I’m anxious to see him, though.”

  “I can imagine. I got to him as fast as I could, I want you to know that.”

  He glanced at her in surprise. “I never thought different. You did the best you could, and you got to him fast. Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me, thank his decision to wear his vest. It literally saved his life tonight.”

  They fell silent, and she watched Clay as his partner took good care of him, cleaning the head wound and talking to him quietly. Once or twice she thought she saw a twitch behind his eyelids, but he didn’t wake up.

  At the hospital, Clay was whisked away to the exam room. Left with nothing to do but worry, she paced the waiting room, unable to take much comfort in the reassurances of their friends. She wouldn’t rest until she knew Clay was going to be fine.

  “Melissa? Honey?”

  At the breathless voice, she turned to see Charlene hurrying into the emergency room. Immediately she drew Clay’s mom into a hug. “Who called you?”

  “The hospital,” she said tearfully. “What’s happened to my boy? I swear I can’t take it if he’s hurt as badly as before. I don’t know if he has another fight like that left in him.”

  “There was an explosion and he was hit in the head by flying debris. We don’t know anything yet, but he was breathing on his own when we got here.”

  “That’s some good news, then.”

  “Yes. We’ll have to wait and see what the doctor says.”

  “I wish I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard that over the last year.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  The older woman patted her hand. “It�
�s not your fault. My son has a dangerous job, and that’s just something I have to live with. You, too, if you’re going to stick around for the long haul.”

  “I plan to, if he’ll have me.”

  “Oh, something tells me he will.”

  About thirty minutes later, an older doctor walked out of the double doors from the examination area. “Mrs. Montana?”

  “Yes, that’s me.” Charlene pushed to her feet and clasped her trembling hands.

  “Could I speak to you in private?”

  “This is his girlfriend and these are his friends,” she said, waving a hand impatiently. “Anything you say to me, you can say in front of them.”

  He nodded. “Your son has a moderate concussion, but there’s no swelling on the brain and no permanent damage that we could detect.” His words were met with a round of relieved exclamations. “In short, he’s had the wind knocked out of him, has some bruising, and will have a hell of a headache for a couple of days, but he should be fine.”

  “How soon can he be released?” Charlene asked.

  “Given his prior serious head injury, I want to keep him overnight for observation, but he should be able to go home tomorrow. We’re moving him to a regular room for the night, then you can see him briefly. He’ll need his rest.”

  Briefly my ass. Just let the doc try to drive them away and they’d see what happened.

  In less than an hour, which seemed an eternity, they had him in a room. Melissa let Charlene visit him first, because she figured his mom would like some alone time with her son. The woman had been through so much worry for months, she deserved to see him first and be reassured.

  About a half an hour later, she hugged Melissa and departed for home with the promise to see them both the next day. Then Melissa went into Clay’s room, sat at his bedside, and took one of his hands.

  His hand was warm and solid under hers, a reassurance that he was alive. That he’d wake up tomorrow. Hopefully sooner. Was it her imagination, or did his face seem to have more color? He definitely looked better. His chest rose and fell in a reassuring rhythm that made her tension ease.

  He’s going to be okay. And he’s not going anywhere.

  And she was going to take care of him when he was released tomorrow. She would have to find out whether he wanted to rest at his house or hers—but he would submit to being spoiled, at least for a day or two.

  Clay was hers, and she wasn’t ever letting go.

  12

  Consciousness returned slowly.

  Clay emerged from the depths of a black hole and gradually became aware of his aching body. The quiet, terribly familiar sounds around him. The hospital again. What happened? Right, the explosion . . . Jesus Christ.

  There were a couple of major differences in his stay this time—he could form a coherent thought, and he could move. He wiggled his fingers and toes to prove it. So, he wasn’t out of commission this time. Thank God.

  His head was splitting, though, like someone evil was driving a spike through the back of his neck. Repeatedly and with great sadistic pleasure.

  I’m alive, though. I can deal with the rest.

  “Clay?”

  “M-Melissa?” His throat was dry as sandpaper.

  “I’m here.” A warm, soft hand gripped his. “Right here, sweetie. Open your eyes for me?”

  It took several tries, but he managed. At first the form above him was blurry, but gradually his beautiful girl came into focus. Her relieved expression and broad smile made his heart leap as he squeezed her hand.

  “Hey,” he croaked.

  “Welcome back to the land of the living. You have a pretty hard head, you know that?”

  “Doesn’t feel so hard right now. Kind of like mush.”

  Reaching out, she combed her fingers through his hair. He moaned in bliss.

  “You’re going to be fine. You got lucky. They’re going to let you go home later today, as long as you’re being watched.”

  “You can watch me all you want.” He gave her a lopsided smile.

  “That’s my plan.”

  He thought about last night. “So, what happened at the compound after I was knocked out?”

  “The fight was pretty much over,” she said. “The rest of my uncle’s men were hauled to jail, where they’ll be charged with making illegal hooch, attempting to evade arrest, attempted murder of police officers, and a host of other things. It’s done.”

  “Are you upset about your uncle’s death? I mean, how he died . . .”

  She shook her head, lips pressed into a firm line. “His death was gruesome, but fitting. He went out exactly the way he deserved, and I don’t feel sorry for that.”

  “Good. I don’t want you feeling any sort of guilt, because it wasn’t your fault. He made his choices, and he reaped what he sowed.”

  “Exactly.”

  “How’s my boy feeling?” Charlene stood in the doorway, smiling at the two of them.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  She marched forward, a determined expression on her face. “Now, what the holy hell do you mean by getting thrown in here again? Are you trying to send me to an early grave?”

  Clay bit back a sigh and resigned himself to being grilled about yesterday’s events. She wouldn’t rest until she had every detail about last night. He knew his mother well.

  Fortunately, Melissa was there to fill in the blanks, and to take over when she noticed Clay’s eyes drooping. Finally his mother said good-bye with a promise to see him when he was released and settled somewhere. It remained to be seen whether he’d stay at Melissa’s house or his own.

  One day soon, he hoped they were one and the same.

  Several hours later, Clay was being wheeled out by a nurse, Melissa right beside him. Tiredness showed in her eyes, even when she smiled. She had to be exhausted from sitting with him all night, but she never once complained.

  “Your place?” she asked as she pulled out of the parking lot.

  “Yours. It’s more relaxing there. We can stop by mine and get some of my clothes.”

  “Sounds good. You can sit on the back porch and watch the horses. It’ll help you heal faster.”

  “Wrong. You’re the one who’ll help me heal faster. That and the prospect of getting you naked.” He gave her a wink, and loved her throaty laugh.

  “Sweet talker. You must be feeling better.”

  “Hey, there’s nothing wrong with my little head.”

  “When it comes to a man, there rarely is.”

  “There’s a reason the athletic cup was invented before the helmet, you know. We have our priorities straight.”

  “No, that’s exactly why men have a shorter life expectancy than women.”

  “I think that’s an arguable generalization.”

  “It’s a fact.”

  “Let’s say you’re right. Would you rather have a smart man or a man who can pound you into the mattress all night?” he pointed out.

  “Can’t I have both?”

  “You can if you have me.” He smirked.

  “You’re impossible,” she said, rolling her eyes.

  “That’s why you love me.”

  “One of the many reasons I love you.”

  “Damn, you know just what to say,” he said softly. “I love you, too, beautiful.”

  She took his hand and they drove the rest of the way to his place in comfortable silence. Clay made short work of stuffing a few things into his duffel bag, and then they were on their way again. He was happy to head to her place. The idea of making his home outside the city limits appealed greatly, and he wondered if someday she’d consider letting him move in with her.

  One step at a time.

  Twenty minutes later, she pulled into her garage. Getting out of the car, he shouldered his duffel with a wince. The debris had hit his back
as well, and he was sore, with a pretty spectacular bruise between his shoulder blades, or so he was told. He considered himself damned lucky he still had a brain inside his skull.

  “I want you to rest,” Melissa said as she let them inside the house.

  “If I have to lounge in bed anymore, I’ll go nuts.”

  “How about on the back porch in a comfy chair?”

  He perked up. “With a beer in hand, sure.”

  “Um, no.” She frowned. “Not so soon after a head injury. You should know that.”

  “Aww, give me a break. I haven’t even had a pain pill today.”

  “And if you show signs of confusion, or have nausea or vomiting, you can bet the alcohol will make it worse.”

  “Damn,” he said, deflating some. “You’re right. Soda it is.”

  “Coming right up.” She gave him a cheeky wink. “Put your stuff away and I’ll meet you on the porch.”

  “Deal.”

  While she went to the kitchen, he walked down the hallway to her master bedroom and set the bag on the chair in the corner of her room. Then he went to the French doors leading out to the wide, spacious porch overlooking the back of the property, opened them, and headed outside.

  He loved it out here. The peace and quiet, the serene view of the horses grazing lazily from spot to spot, were the best medicine in the world. Hearing footsteps on the boards, he turned to his lady. “I could sit out here forever and never move again.”

  “I know the feeling. My aunt loved it out here, too.” She took a seat in the lounger beside his.

  “You miss her.”

  “Every single day. She saved me. More than that, she loved me.” She was silent for a few moments, looking out into the distance. “My uncle wanted to keep me from her, and from the only stability I’d known since my parents died. I never understood why. He hated me, and it showed in everything he said and did, every single day. Why keep me around?”

  “Because he could. He seemed like the kind of asshole who’d enjoy the power trip, even over a helpless little girl.”

  “You nailed that one.” She shivered. “Is it wrong of me to be glad he’s dead?”