by Olivia Rush
“Be safe,” I said.
He flashed me that cocky smirk of his one more time before he disappeared down the stairs.
33
STONE
I shucked off my yellow jacket, tossing it on the ground in the stairwell before finishing the trek to the basement.
“This is so fucking stupid,” I said out loud to myself as I approached the heavy steel door leading to the basement level. “Isn’t this what the NYPD’s for?”
Sure, that would’ve been the smart thing, to wait until the cops got here and let them handle this. But I knew that if they didn’t get here in time and finish the job, the fires might spread at the other buildings, and who knows if anyone would be hurt if that happened.
Besides, these assholes put my son and my woman in danger, and I wasn’t about to let that slide.
I took a deep breath before slowly pushing the door open and stepping into the basement. The air was cool and damp, a pleasant contrast to the burning hot air above. A shiver ran through my body as I entered the basement, the area dark and foreboding. I had no idea if the thugs were still here—for all I knew, I was walking into a trap.
My steps echoed heavily on the concrete floor, and I winced with every footfall. I bent down and slipped out of my shoes, wanting to make my approach as quietly as possible. I hated the idea of walking on this dirty, dingy floor barefoot, but the silence of my steps made it worth the risk.
The basement was made up of several long hallways, each lined with doors that I assumed were meant for storage. I hesitated for a moment, not sure which hallway to go down. A glance up revealed a tight bundle of blue wires near the ceiling and traveling down the length of the middle hallway. I figured that this was the same sort of gear that the crooks were using up in the server room, and that this would be as good a guess as any.
I continued along, eventually hearing the footfalls of someone moving down the hall in the distance. The lights were so dim that I could hardly see my hand in front of my face. These weren’t the best conditions, but I knew I could use the darkness to my advantage.
Sure enough, the figure of someone big and burly became visible in the distance. My steps quiet against the concrete, I snuck up behind him and, with a quick blow to the back of the neck, sent him to the ground, unconscious.
I checked the downed thug, finding a pistol on his hip. Killing wasn’t my style, but I figured I could use it to pull some intimidation tactics if I needed to.
I continued on, following the blue wire as it made left and right turns, leading me further and further into the basement.
Eventually, I heard the sound of angry chatter further down the hall.
“…it says the fire’s out!” called out a voice that I recognized right away as one of the techs.
“How the hell is the fire out?” said the next. “That equipment should be down—there’s nothing up there that’d be able to put that blaze out!”
Nothing except my entire fire crew, I thought with a wry smirk.
“We can’t finish the transfer if there’s no fire,” said one man that I recognized as the leader. “What about the other buildings?”
“We got that going now,” said one of the techs. “The servers are heating up, and they should be overloading at any second.”
“Good,” said the leader.
A beat of silence passed.
“Huh,” said one of the techs.
“What is it?” asked the leader.
“Says here the firm a few blocks to the east has a maintenance crew working tonight—they weren’t supposed to be there.”
“Who cares?” asked the leader.
“Boss, if we set that fire off then they might not make it out before the smoke gets ’em. I’m in this to rob, not kill anyone.”
“Are you kidding? What do you think happened to that fireman and his family? Besides, you’re in this to do what I say,” said the leader. “And I don’t give a shit if there’s a crew in there—we’re getting that money and burning the place down behind us.”
A few more beats of silence passed.
“You got it, boss,” he said finally.
I moved closer, my blood pumping hard in my veins at the confirmation of lives being at stake. I made out the shape of another heavy guard, and I slipped out my pistol in preparation of knocking him out.
Once I was a couple of feet away from him, I shot up to a standing position and pistol-whipped him hard right in the back of the head. He dropped as hard and fast as the other guard, and as he fell he revealed the crew of techs, both of them huddled around computer equipment hooked up to the blue wires snaking along the wall.
“Holy shit!” shouted the pudgy tech. “It’s that fucking fireman!”
“Shouldn’t you be dead?” asked the lanky one, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head in shock.
“I’m not,” I said. “And I’m here to put the kibosh on this plan of yours.”
The fat tech shot his hands into the air.
“Don’t hurt me!” he said. “I give up!”
The skinny tech followed.
Two down, one to go, I figured.
But the leader didn’t appear to be in the mood to give up so easily. His hand shot down to his gun, and I didn’t waste a second in moving to take him out. With as much speed and power as I was capable of, I rushed over toward the leader and grabbed his gun just as he was in the process of raising it for a shot. We grappled for several moments, both of us about equally matched in strength.
The techs cowered as we struggled, the leader doing his best to point the gun toward me. With a burst of strength, I shoved his hands down toward the ground, the pistol firing as I pushed it away. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the shot hit the laptop hooked up to the cables, the screen turning a strange, purplish color before going black.
“Shit!” the leader shouted.
I wasn’t about to let this opportunity go. I took advantage of his distraction and delivered a hard punch to the side of his jaw, causing the leader to stumble back, the gun falling out of his hands and hitting the ground with a clatter. He quickly recovered from his daze, turning his eyes on me as he appeared to determine his next move. I swooped in and grabbed the gun, taking out the clip and bullet in the chamber before stuffing it into my pocket.
“Not too late to give up,” I said.
He narrowed his eyes at me, his hands clenched into tight fists. Then he glanced over at this techs, both of them still shaking in fear.
“Screw you,” he said.
With that, he took off into a hard sprint.
“Stay put,” I said to the techs.
I started off into a run, following close behind the leader as he tried to lose me down the narrow hallways. But I was fueled by adrenaline and a burning desire to bring down the man who’d put Callie and Jason in danger—I wasn’t about to let him get away that easily.
I drew closer and closer, cutting the distance until I was only a few feet away. With a pounce, I leaped toward the man, grabbing him by the shoulders and bringing him to the ground in a hard tackle. We tussled for a bit, but he was too winded, and I was too angry. I quickly got the upper hand, putting my knees on his chest and pinning him to the ground.
I delivered one punch to his face, then another. A third sounded just right, but I wasn’t interested in putting this asshole into a coma.
“Now,” I said, catching my breath. “Don’t run again.”
The fight went out of the leader, and his arms dropped to his sides as his chest rose and fell under my knees. I raised my eyes and spotted the green letters of an exit sign.
“Come with me, asshole,” I said, standing up and yanking the leader to his feet.
His steps were uneven and staggering as we made our way to the exit. Once we arrived, I threw the door open, the cool evening air rushing to greet me.
The red and blue strobe of police cars was the first thing I noticed as I threw open the door.
That, and the dozen or so gun
s raised up, pointed right at me.
“Freeze assholes!” shouted one of the officers, his voice booming.
I raised one hand, the other holding tight onto the leader.
“FDNY!” I yelled back.
The cops weren’t in the mood to take my word for it. I didn’t have a chance to say anything else before a handful of officers swarmed the leader and me, pulling us apart. I felt a hand yank away the two guns I had in my possession, followed by another pair patting me down.
“FDNY, huh?” asked one of the officers.
“Yeah,” I said. “Name’s Stone Black. You ask for Chief Stokes with the FDNY—he’ll set you straight.”
Standing around while the cops confirmed that I wasn’t some crook was the last thing I wanted to do at that moment. I wanted to see Callie and Jason. I needed them both in my arms right then and there.
“Stay here,” said one of the cops.
The other officers formed a tight circle around me, making sure that I wasn’t going anywhere. I surveyed the scene as I waited. The place was a circus— police cars and ambulances and fire trucks were everywhere, along with a few dozen city employees. I glanced up at the building and saw that the fire was out—faintly billowing smoke coming out of the windows was the only evidence of the blaze.
“There’s the man I wanted to see,” spoke the familiar voice of Chief Stokes.
The chief, dressed in his yellow fireman rubbers, approached me, a half-smile on his face. He was flanked by two very serious-looking cops.
“This one of yours?” asked the cop on his right.
“Sure as shit is,” said the chief.
With that the cops broke apart, leaving me and the chief.
“Where are they?” I asked, the words shooting out of my mouth.
Chief raised his hand, gesturing for me to take it easy.
“EMTs are looking over them now, making sure they didn’t take in too much smoke. But things are looking good. Jason’s a little jacked up on adrenaline, but that looks to be the worst of it.”
Relief washed over me in a cool wave. Their safety was all I cared about.
Chief gave me a once-over.
“And you’re looking pretty good for a guy who just helped put out a fire before apprehending a criminal mastermind.”
“All in a day’s work,” I said.
“You did good, Stone,” said the chief. “Without you, this place would’ve gone up, along with the two other buildings.”
“The other fires didn’t start?” I asked.
“We got reports of a couple other fires at two other firms just a little while ago, but the automated fire systems went on not too long after they broke out. Don’t know what you did here, but you stopped them before they had a chance to do any serious damage.”
“Wasn’t just me,” I said. “I had a little help.”
Chief flashed me a half-smile.
“That’s right,” he said. “Can’t forget about your intrepid partner.” He glanced over toward the pair of ambulances in front of the building. “I bet they’re ready for you,” he said. “Let’s move, Black.”
The chief and I hurried over to the ambulances, my eyes frantically searching for Callie and Jason. After a few moments, I spotted them seated on the edge of one of the ambulances’ open back, both wrapped in the standard post-emergency blankets.
I didn’t wait for the chief to catch up. I burst into a run, rushing over to the two, their eyes widening as they saw me approach.
“Dad!” shouted Jason.
I threw my arms around my son, scooping him up and holding him tight. Callie watched the two of us, a warm smile on her face.
“Did you get them?” asked Jason, his face as bright and eager as I’d ever seen it.
“You bet I did,” I said, mussing his hair and pulling him in for another hug.
“I bet you punched them a million times,” he said, shoving his fists into the air in front of him.
“Not quite that many,” I said, setting Jason down.
“But did you do some punching?” asked Callie with a grin.
“Hey, you want to try and take down a criminal gang without doing any punching, be my guest.”
I gave Callie a once-over.
“You OK?” I asked, sitting down next to her on the vehicle’s edge.
“I think so,” she said. “You and the rest of the guys managed to get in there right in the nick of time.”
The thought of what might’ve happened if the crew hadn’t shown up when they did made me shudder. I pushed the thought out of my mind as fast as I could. Callie and Jason were safe and unharmed, and the gang had been apprehended—that was all that mattered.
I helped Jason back up onto the seat before wrapping my arm around Callie, pulling her close and tight. We watched the crews work for a while, the police eventually leaving the building with the criminal crew in handcuffs.
“Well,” said Callie with a smile. “What’s on the agenda for the rest of the evening?”
I couldn’t help but laugh at how absurd her question was.
Instead of responding with words, however, I took her chin into my hand and turned her face toward mine. She licked her lips, those gorgeous blue eyes wide and bright. I leaned in and kissed her softly, our lips melting together for several long, sensual moments.
“Is that your answer?” she asked.
“It just might be.”
34
CALLIE
Two weeks later…
I entered the offices of New York Weekly as though I were walking to my execution. As far as anyone else was concerned it was any other day. For me, it should’ve been something more than that. I’d finished my story last week, and it’d just hit the stands. The cover—a picture of the Stone and his crew, all of them standing in front of one of their trucks, their uniformly burly arms crossed and confident smiles on their faces—looked great, and stack after stack of the latest issue were piled here and there, ready to be shipped.
I should’ve been overjoyed with eagerness for my work to get out there, for the story of my life to hit the stands. But all I could think about was how today was the day that I was going to tell my editor about the secret that could end my career—that I was pregnant, and the big, beefy firefighter front and center on the latest issue, the one with the million-dollar smile, was the father.
I plopped down in my cubicle seat, a total feeling of dread slowly working through me.
“Well, if it isn’t the ace reporter herself,” spoke the familiar voice of Meg, her face poking up over the cubicle wall.
Before I had a chance to say anything, she rushed over to the entrance of the tiny box and took a seat next to me.
“Have you heard what people are saying about this?” she asked, tossing a copy of the latest issue onto my already-cluttered desk.
My stomach tightened into a hard knot at this. I knew the article was good—the best thing I’d ever written, easily—but hearing about reviews was just more anxiety on top of what I was already dealing with. But knowing Meg, she was going to tell me whether I wanted to hear about it or not.
“I haven’t,” I said. “I’ve still been in a total daze from being right in the middle of everything.”
“I bet,” said Meg. “But this should snap you out of it. I had drinks with this guy from the New Yorker last night, and your article is all that they can talk about over there. Evidently one of the editors called an emergency meeting last night before everyone went home, demanding to know why some girl from a gossip mag had written the article of the year.”
I was nervous as all hell, but this was still something to hear. The faintest hint of a smile took hold on my face, and I even felt a hot blush spread across my cheeks. It didn’t help that Stone was staring back at me from the cover just a little to my right.
“That’s…that’s awesome,” I said, not sure what else to say.
“‘Awesome’?” asked Meg. “This article is going to launch you to the next stage in
your career! You’re about to leave all us little people behind, off to collect your inevitable Pulitzer, and all you’ve got to say is ‘awesome’?”
She was right. I should’ve been bouncing around the office, giddy beyond belief. But all I could think about was the scandal that was sure to come. The success I was experiencing now would only make the inevitable tumble back to Earth more difficult to bear.
Before I had a chance to respond, the booming voice of Danvers sounded through the office.
“Sullivan!” he shouted. “I know you’re here! Get your ass to my office, now!”
A wave of panic ran through me. I knew that this was just how Danvers talked, but it felt as though he somehow knew what I was going to tell him, and that I’d stroll into his office only to be greeted with a pink slip in my face.
“Can’t keep the boss waiting,” I said, getting up, my legs weak beneath me.
“After what you wrote he’s probably going to propose to you,” said Meg.
I let out a snort of a laugh and got up.
“Happy hour after work?” she asked.
I was about to say yes, but then I remembered that drinking was going to be off the table for the next several months.
“We’ll see,” I said, hurrying from my cubicle before Meg had a chance to respond.
My stomach tightened more and more with each step I took closer to Danvers’s office. When I finally reached it, I gave the door a gentle knock.
“Unless this is Sullivan, get the fuck back to work!” came the voice from inside.
“It’s me,” I said.
“Then come in!”
I opened the door slowly, revealing the usual mess of Danvers’s office. He was seated behind the desk, his stubby legs propped up on it as he flipped through a copy of the latest issue. Just like before, Stone smiled back at me from the cover.