“Hi, I’m Kyle,” he introduced himself with the arrogance of youth and alcohol. Mike barely refrained from rolling her eyes at him and said nothing. “And you are?”
“Not interested.”
“Oooo-kay.” Kyle straightened and walked away, much to Mike’s amusement. She shook her head and turned back, her eyes roaming the faces around her. Young. Fun-loving. Eager for the company of the opposite sex. What the hell was she doing here? She didn’t fit in with this crowd, she never had. And she had absolutely nothing in common with anyone here.
She was accomplishing absolutely nothing by being here. What did she think she was going to prove? That she could be in the same place as Nick and whatâpretend he wasn’t there? Act like she didn’t care? If she really didn’t careâand she didn’tâshe would have stayed home. Coming here was ridiculous and proved nothing, except that once again she had allowed Nick to goad her into do something she didn’t want to do.
Proving once again that she had never been smart when it came to Nick.
No harm, no foul. Nick hadn’t seen her, couldn’t have seen her from his place on the stage. Mike could leave, go back home, and not have to admit to anyone how stupid she was. She drained her soda and turned to go, only to slam straight into a solid body. She stepped back and mumbled an apology then tried to walk around. A warm hand rested on her shoulder and she bit back an insult, her hand already curling into a fist. She looked up then stumbled back in surprise when she saw Nick standing in front of her. His grip on her shoulder tightened and his eyes narrowed momentarily. Mike knew without a doubt that he thought she was drunk and if she hadn’t been so surprised, she would have said something to correct his misconception. As it was, she could barely talk without stammering.
“Nick! What? But aren’t you…? I thought…” She finally closed her mouth and pointed behind her at the band that was still playing on the stage.
“We played earlier,” he said, as if that explained it all, and Mike guessed it did. She swallowed and nodded. How could she have known that more than one band played a night? If she had, she certainly wouldn’t have shown up.
God, she was an idiot.
“I didn’t think you’d show up,” Nick continued, easing her out of the flow of bodies to a deserted section next to the wall. Mike looked around, hoping for a stampede or other distraction. Seeing none, she sighed and looked back at Nick.
He looked different from the other night. Gone was the shirt and tie, what she had come to think of as his ‘teacher outfit’. Tonight he was wearing worn faded jeans and a short-sleeve Henley that showed off his broad shoulders and broad chest, his sculpted arms andâMike squeezed her eyes closed and reminded herself that she felt nothing for Nick. Nothing at all.
She opened her eyes to find him studying her, his dark gaze fixed on her with an intensity that made her knees weak and her stomach flutter.
“Actually, I was just getting ready to leave. It’s late and I have to work tomorrow andâ”
“Then why did you show up?”
“Excuse me?”
“I said, why did you show up? Why come here if you weren’t planning on staying?”
“I, umâ” Was it her imagination, or was Nick moving closer to her? He was. She swallowed nervously and stepped back, bumping into the wall. “I was meeting someone.”
Nick’s expression told her he didn’t believe her. He watched her for a long second then made a show of looking around, searching. “So where are they?”
Mike gritted her teeth so hard she was surprised they didn’t break. Why was she even bothering? She didn’t have to explain anything to him, and she certainly shouldn’t be backing away from him like she was intimidated. Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and straightened to her full height. Thanks to the boots she was wearing, that almost put her at eye level with Nick. All the better to give him her coolest glare and tell him exactly where he could go.
Nick laughed, a smooth warm sound that did nothing to calm or amuse her. He reached out and grabbed her hand, folding it in his large one and squeezing gently before tugging her into the crowd. “C’mon, I’ll buy you a soda.”
“I said I was leaving.” Mike pulled against him, but not as hard as she could have. She told herself that it would be easier to duck out when they got closer to the door. A tiny voice called her a liar.
Nick continued leading her through the crowdâaway from the door. Mike tossed a single glance over her shoulder, wondering if she really should just leave. She didn’t. Instead, she followed Nick to a small high table with, surprisingly, two empty stools. Or maybe not surprisingly. When she finally looked up, she realized the table was one of a group being held by a number of people, apparently friends of Nick from the way they greeted his return.
Mike nodded briefly as Nick made introductions which she quickly forgot. If she was smart, she would turn around and leave. There was nothing to be gained by staying here, not when staying here could only lead to trouble and worse, possible hurt. Sighing in defeat, she sat on one of the stools, hooking her boot heel around the rung as Nick motioned for the waitress at the next table.
“A seven and seven, please,” Mike corrected when Nick ordered two sodas. The waitress took their order and disappeared, leaving them as alone as two people could be in a crowded nightclub. An uncomfortable silence stretched around them, made more awkward by the look that Nick leveled at her. Intent, curious. Heated. She shifted and finally looked straight at him with a questioning stare. “Is something wrong?”
Nick continued watching her, the expression in his dark eyes suddenly hooded. A long minute went by before he shook his head and looked away, leaving Mike suddenly more uncomfortable than before. His expression had been strange, one she had been unable to read but left her feeling like she should understand. She shrugged the sensation away and glanced around, looking for a distraction. In a place this size, with so many different people, it should have been easy. It wasn’t.
The waitress finally reappeared, saving Mike from her squirming. She reached out and grabbed the drink with something close to desperation and sipped it, thankful for something to do at last. She would finish this then go home.
Mike was getting ready to take another sip when Nick abruptly stood and grabbed her arm, coming close to knocking the glass from her hand. She opened her mouth to say something but never got the chance because he was suddenly dragging her across the floor.
“What the hell are you doing?” Mike finally asked, forcing the words out through her clenched teeth. Nick just looked at her, not stopping until they reached the dance floor. He turned and wrapped her in his arms, pulling her entirely too close.
“Dancing,” he answered. Mike stared at him in shock, her body rigid as he began swaying to the slow music. She tried to pull away, only to have him tighten his hold on her.
“I don’t want to dance.”
“Well, I do.”
“Oh for crying out loud.” Mike tried to pull away once more than gave up. His arms were wrapped too tightly around her; if she kept pulling away, he would end up squeezing the last breath out of her. It would be easier to just finish the dance then leave.
“Relax. You look like a stiff board. I’m not going to attack you,” Nick reassured her. It wasn’t much of a reassurance, not with his mouth was so close to her ear, not with his hand gently rubbing small circles on her back. Mike swallowed, trying to keep her body stiff when all she wanted to do was melt into a puddle at his feet.
She closed her eyes, trying to think of something, anything, besides the feel of Nick’s body pressed so close against her. It didn’t work so she opened her eyes, only to find him staring at her with that intense gaze again. Her heart jumped into her throat and she tried to look away. Nick dipped his head closer, leaning in, and she tried to pull away before his lips brushed against hers in a soft kiss.
“Kayla, don’t.” His voice was hoarse and soft, his breath warm against her mouth. She felt
her resolve disappearing, felt herself leaning toward him no matter how hard she fought the pull. His mouth claimed hers, softly at first, then more firmly, demanding.
Owning.
Mike stepped back abruptly, breaking the kiss and the embrace, causing them both to stumble. She stared at Nick, saw the confusion in his eyes as he watched her. She shook her head and took another step back.
“Nick, I can’t do this. I can’t.”
“Kaylaâ”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t. I have to leave.” She looked at him for another second then turned and left, weaving her way through the crowd, imagining that she heard his voice behind her.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Mike sat in the watch room, her eyes focused on the blank screen of the television as thoughts tumbled one after another through her mind. Saturday night had been a disaster but she had nobody to blame but herself. She was the one who had been stupid enough to show up at the nightclub, even knowing what could happen. The worst of it was that she hadn’t been able to think of anything else for the last three days. How could she still find herself drawn to Nick, after everything that had happened between them? After so many years had gone by? After what he had done?
She sighed and rubbed her eyes, mentally cursing herself. Paperwork was scattered on the desk in front of her, the pages filled with her small handwriting. The top pages were nothing more than an update on the damn program that had been thrown in her lap. Right along with Nick. It should have been easy. All she had to do was let Jay run the show, like they had discussed. All she had to do was sit quietly in the back and do nothing. She didn’t need to be involved. Except now she wasâbecause of Nick. And now, for the first time in a long time, she doubted her ability to do something, because she really didn’t think she could do this anymore.
Because of Nick.
The other pages were nothing more than heartfelt venting, a way to work through her anger and frustration. The rambling words were addressed to nobody, meant only for her eyes as she laid out all the reasons she could no longer take part in the project. It was just a draft, allowing her to vent her frustrations, to get everything out of her system. She wouldn’t turn it in. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t, even if she had thought about putting in a formal request, to make it real.
No, that was the one thing she couldn’t do, no matter how much she wanted to. There would be too much backlash, too much retaliation from Captain Nelson. Against her. Against Jay.
But that didn’t make taking part in the program any easier. Part of her really thought she couldn’t do it anymore. Being around Nick was taking too much out of her. And helping Jay out wasn’t worth her sanity. But she’d stick with it. Because Jay had always stuck by her, no matter what. And because part of didn’t want Nick to win.
Mike stood and stretched the kinks out of her back then grabbed the paperwork and stacked it in a neat pile, the report on top. Maybe if she talked to the captain, explained whyâwithout going into too much detail. If she could explain why, give him a sound, reasonable explanation, then maybe he’d be willing to work something out.
Mike chewed on her lower lip, her mind running through all the possible scenarios and outcomes. Her mind made up, she left the watch room and headed back to the officers’ room. She had to tell Captain Nelson she couldn’t do it. Her nerves would never last the next few monthsânot if the last month was any indication. Her sanity was more important.
Her steps faltered, doubt filling her. Who was she kidding? She couldn’t tell Captain Nelson she wanted off the project, no matter what reason she gave him. He’d be livid. But maybe she could work something else out, offer a compromise.
Yeah, as long as she could come up with something brilliant in the next thirty seconds.
She paused at the closed door, took a deep breath, and knocked, waiting for the muffled invitation before opening the door. “Cap, can I talkâ”
Her words were interrupted by the shrill noise of the alarm. Time froze for a few heart-pounding seconds as the disembodied voice of a faceless dispatcher announced a vehicle rescue. Time snapped back and life erupted around the station. Mike threw the paperwork on the captain’s desk then ran into the engine room, gathering her gear before jumping in the back of the engine with Jay. He wiggled his eyebrows and gave her a thumbs-up, but the traditional lucky sign failed to bring even a hint of smile to her face. Jay studied her as she pulled on her gear, finally shouting over the roar of the engine as it pulled out of the station.
“You okay?”
Mike waved his question away and settled back in the jump seat, trying to clear her mind as the engine sped through the late evening traffic on its way to the interstate. She turned in the seat, craning her neck to peer out the front window at the stopped traffic clogging the road in front of them. Rush hour should have been over an hour ago, which meant something else was causing the standstill. Mike turned back around and slammed on the engine cover to get Jay’s attention, then motioned out the window. She reached over and pried a Halligan bar from its bracket, then pulled a handful of latex gloves from the box wedged beside her.
The engine slowed, the tires rumbling over the rough shoulder before coming to a stop. Mike threw open the door and climbed out, following the captain around the front as the spot lights on the side of the engine lit the scene.
One car rested against the guardrail at an awkward angle, the back and driver’s side caved in. A second car was on its roof in the culvert off the shoulder, apparently having flipped over the guardrail. Jay made his way to the first car while Mike climbed over the damaged guardrail and slid down the small incline, taking in the scene immediately surrounding the vehicle. A quick glance showed one person inside the car, still strapped in the passenger seat and hanging at an awkward angle.
Mike signaled to the captain, holding up one finger to indicate the number of people, then dropped to her knees and climbed in through the broken driver’s door window. The middle-aged woman grabbed for her, sobbing and muttering words that made no sense. Mike tried to comfort her with soothing words, doing a quick visual assessment of the patient then looking around for the driver. There was no one else in the car.
“Ma’am, I need you to calm down. Can you tell me what happened?”
Mike listened as the woman muttered something about being late for a party, something else about her boyfriend, but Mike couldn’t make much sense of it. She backed out of the car and waved to the captain, motioning that she needed him.
“Cap, we have a missing driver. Anyone up there see anything?”
“Let me check.” He turned and headed back up, his feet sliding under him as he struggled up the incline before finally reaching the road and disappearing into the gathering crowd. Mike muttered an obscenity to herself then crawled back into the car, doing a physical assessment of the woman while listening for the tell-tale sound of the ambulance’s siren. Minutes went by before the medic unit finally arrived and Mike mumbled a quick thanks when Dave joined her by the car.
“What do you have?” He sat the large trauma box and collection of collars on the ground next to the car then tapped her on the leg, guiding her as she crawled out.
“Possible neck and back and she’s complaining about her right ankle. I can’t get in close enough to see. Possible ETOH. Not to mention a missing driver.” She lowered her voice for the last part, not wanting the woman to overhear Mike telling him she had been drinking and that her boyfriend was nowhere to be found.
“Great.” He climbed into the car, only to reappear two minutes later. “Get the backboard for me and have them call for the helicopter. I’m going to send her downtown.”
“Will do,” Mike assured him, grateful to be doing something besides patient care. She keyed the mike hanging from her turnout coat and relayed Dave’s request as she made her way back up the hill. Several minutes later, she had the long board from the medic unit and was making her way back down to the overturned car, her eyes searching f
or any sign of the driver. There was a slight chance the body could be under the car; if that was the case, there would be little hope for him.
Dave was quiet as he treated the woman, calmly answering her hysterical questions while Mike helped out in silence. They finally maneuvered the woman out of the seat belt and were positioning her on the backboard when a raging bellow exploded around them. Dave and Mike both stopped what they were doing, startled, and looked up as a ragged man came hurtling toward them from the sparse wooded area on the other side of the culvert.
The man screamed obscenities, running at them like a raging bull. Mike figured he was over six feet tall and weighed a solid two hundred-forty pounds. From the blood streaming down his battered face, there was a good chance he was their missing driver.
The thought whirled through her mind with lightning speed, followed immediately by the realization that the man was charging them, his meaty fists already swinging through the air as he moved closer. Mike’s instincts took over. She turned, facing the threat head-on while positioning herself in front of Dave, who had lowered his end of the backboard to the ground and hovered over the patient in an attempt to shield the injured woman.
From the corner of her eye, Mike saw a flurry of action on the road above them as police officers jumped over the guardrail. The raging bull was much closer, bellowing at them to leave the woman alone as he lunged toward them. Mike knew it was coming, saw the large arms swinging before he even reached them. She braced herself and lowered her shoulder, hoping to at least stop the man before he ran right into the patient. Her reflexes were fast but the man was faster. A fist the size of a bear’s paw caught her in the face and she toppled backwards, managing to fall to the side and avoid Dave and the patient.
The crazed man fell on top of her, knocking the wind from her as he continued swinging. Both of them struggled, Mike trying desperately to draw breath through what she was sure had to be a collapsed lung. The man’s struggle suddenly ceased, turning him into nothing more than dead weight on top of her. A second went by before the weight was moved by the late-arriving police. She rolled to her side, her arm wrapping around her middle, her chest heaving.
Once Burned (Firehouse Fourteen Book 1) Page 9