by Bella Andre
He wanted to use the doctor as a punching bag, to scream that she didn’t know a damn thing about him, about the hole in his chest that was growing bigger by the second. Instead, he silently followed her down the hall into the busy ICU.
The overhead lights had been dimmed in his brother’s small room and a white sheet had been placed over his body. The doctor peeled back the cloth to reveal his brother’s lifeless face, and before he could brace himself, pain unlike anything he’d ever felt before ripped through him. He felt dizzy and light-headed. As if he could drop to the floor at any second.
Moving closer and gently touching his brother’s un-moving face, so similar to his own, he felt warm tears streak down his face.
“Would you like me to leave you for a few minutes?”
It was abundantly clear how much the doctor wanted to get away from him and his soul-sucking grief.
He nodded, taking his brother’s stiff hand in his own. All their lives he’d looked out for Jacob, who had been the reckless one, the one who could never hold down a job, the twin who could never keep his fists in his pockets. Jacob was the reason he’d gotten into the drug trade. Manufacturing and selling methamphetamines had seemed like an easy way to support them both.
If only they hadn’t fought that afternoon, then maybe Jacob would have hung out a little longer, would have realized the roads were too icy to drive and spent the night.
If only Dianna Kelley had swerved out of the way, or better yet, never got on the road at all.
It was all her fault.
“I’ll make her pay for what she did to you, I swear it,” he promised his brother.
Bending over, he pressed a kiss to Jacob’s forehead. Wiping his tears away with the back of his hand, he let go of Jacob’s hand and was slowly walking out of the ICU when he saw her.
In a room a dozen feet from the exit, Dianna Kelley was lying in a bed behind a glass wall, hooked up to an IV, her blond hair fanning out behind her on the pillow. A nurse was busy dealing with a phone call just outside the room and she didn’t pay him any notice as he stood there and stared.
Seeing the bitch still alive, breathing and blinking, the blood still pumping through her veins—while his brother was dead—only confirmed that she was to blame.
No jury would ever convict her of wrongdoing. She was too famous, too pretty for anyone to think she could have possibly done anything wrong. She’d killed his brother and she was going to get away with it.
Continuing to stare at her, rage and grief built up and up inside of him until there was no room left for anything else. The nurse finally noticed him and when she gave him a strange look, he turned to leave.
Just then, Dianna’s sister burst in through the ICU doors, her shoulder knocking into his in her haste.
And that was when he realized that he already had the perfect weapon.
Dianna Kelley had killed his brother.
He would kill her sister.
———
Everything hurt like crazy, especially her head, Dianna thought as she slowly woke up. What was wrong with her? Why was she having such trouble moving her arms and legs?
She struggled to open her eyes. They felt dry, almost like they were filled with soot, and she blinked hard to try to clear them. She quickly realized she was in a hospital bed, but how could that be? The last thing she remembered, she was driving to the airport, heading back to San Francisco after arguing with her sister in the café.
She had the strange feeling that someone was standing nearby, watching her, but her vision was still too fuzzy for her to see the person’s features. The only thing she could tell for sure was that it was a man, tall with broad shoulders and short-cropped hair.
Her fatigued brain instantly plopped Sam’s face on the man’s head. She’d spent ten years trying to forget him, but tonight she was too damn weary, too sore and achy to make much headway in dislodging her memories of a gorgeous firefighter, six foot two with midnight-black hair and sizzling blue eyes.
Was it really Sam? Had he come to see her? Or was this just another hallucination? Another vision she was manufacturing out of desperation?
Her heart rate soared, as did the faint beeping of the machines behind her.
With every breath she took, her discomfort grew. She’d never allowed herself to take more than a couple of Advil—given her mother’s history of addiction—but right now, she needed more of whatever they’d put in the IV in her left arm.
Soon, a nurse moved beside her, murmuring something about another dose of Vicodin. Before Dianna could find out if Sam was really there, or merely a hallucination of her deepest desires, a cool rush of liquid settled into her veins and she fell back into painless oblivion.
CHAPTER TWO
SAM MACKENZIE stood on a peak in the Sierra Nevadas and surveyed the rolling mountains for smoke and flames. He was covered head to toe in a thick layer of ash and dirt from digging fire lines and knocking his chain saw through endless mounds of dry brush for the past twenty-four hours.
Being a hotshot meant little to no sleep for days on end, a hundred and fifty pounds on your back while you ran miles to reach the fires nothing else could. It meant shoving nasty-tasting, high-calorie food that a dog would refuse into your mouth at regular intervals. And it meant the unpredictability of fire herself, capable of grinding up and destroying even the toughest men.
But saving lives and homes and old-growth forests made it all worth it. Not to mention the undeniable rush he got from kicking a wildfire’s ass.
He’d never wanted to be anything but a hotshot. He still didn’t.
His radio crackled and Logan Cain, his squad boss, checked in. “You up for a helicopter ride? Looks like we’ve got a handle on this fire, but I need you to scan it from the air to make sure.”
“Give me thirty to get out into the open for pickup,” he said, giving Logan his coordinates before signing off.
Quickly packing up his tools, he threw his heavy bag over his shoulders and headed back up the deer trail he and his four-man crew had taken down the mountain a day earlier.
“You did good work, boys,” he told them as they finished up their breakfast.
After a series of wildfires this week, he figured they were all looking forward to a six-pack of beer and a day of lazy fishing on the lake to recharge their batteries before the next call.
“You all can head on back to the anchor point. I’m going up with Joe in the chopper for a quick scan. Once we’ve got the all clear you can take showers at the station and get some rest.”
The rookie of the bunch smiled at him, his white teeth breaking apart the black mask of ash and soot covering his face.
“Dude, you forgot what comes between the shower and rest.” Zach looked around at the other guys, his eyebrows moving up and down omically. “Getting some ass.”
Sam laughed. Zach was right. Used to be, he couldn’t wait to get off the mountain and go home to the warm, soft body waiting for him in bed. A lifetime ago, when he was a rookie just like Zach, and was young and stupid enough to think he’d found “the one.”
Joe, the helitack pilot, was waiting for him when he crested the hill. As soon as Sam climbed into the helicopter, the rotors started whirring and they lifted into the air.
After working together on wildfires for the past six years, they didn’t bother with small talk. Flying slowly over the dry landscape, Sam carefully surveyed the mountains for any telltale signs of new fires. The lookout towers that ringed the region were useful, but they didn’t catch everything. Especially in the densely forested valleys.
About to give the all clear, Sam saw a flicker of smoke emerge from behind the next ridge.
“Let’s head west.”
Joe shot him a concerned glance. “You see something?”
“A smoke column is rising up, just past that redwood grove.”
Joe kicked the helicopter’s blades up a notch and they soon spotted a fire blazing at the base of the hill beside a stream. Thank
God they’d gone in to take one last look.
After radioing the fire’s coordinates, Logan said, “I’m sending a support crew up the fire road. ETA is thirty minutes.” He paused and Sam knew what was coming, the same thing his squad boss had been telling them since last summer. “Don’t go in if it’s too dangerous.”
The previous summer’s wildfire in Desolation Wilderness had turned from a routine job to a disaster in a matter of moments. The two of them, along with Sam’s younger brother, Connor, had gotten caught in a blowup. Although Logan and Sam had emerged unscathed from their run up the mountain to safety, the wildfire had chewed Connor up and spit him out, and he’d ended up with serious burns on his arms, hands, and chest.
This was the first year in almost a decade that Sam had run these trails without his brother beside him. Every day, Sam missed Connor’s company out in the forests. They were all adrenaline junkies—even the hot-shots who denied it—but Connor had always been more reckless than most.
In the past few years, Sam had felt that he wasn’t all that far behind his brother on the recklessness scale. Without a wife or kids to go back to at the end of a fire, he had no reason not to go all the way to the edge. Especially if the chances he took meant saving a life.
So even though this was a potentially deadly situation, Sam couldn’t turn back.
“I’m heading in on foot to verify whether the area is populated,” Sam informed Logan before shoving the radio back into his turnouts.
He was going in with his Pulaski, an ax-hoe combination, his chain saw, his “shake and bake” emergency fire tent, and his first-aid supplies. Hopefully, he’d need only the first two to cut a fire line through the brush and light a backfire. But until he knew what awaited him down below, he’d make damn certain he was prepared for a worst-case scenario.
“Drop me in, Joe.”
A strong breeze shoved the helicopter a half-dozen feet closer to the mountain and Joe shot Sam a concerned glance. “The winds are really picking up. You sure you don’t want to wait for backup?”
The breeze blew the flames away for a split second, just long enough for Sam to see a structure.
“There’s a cabin down below. I have to check it out.”
“I don’t know if this is such a great idea,” Joe said as he maneuvered the helicopter so that it hovered directly over a flat part of the roof, just out of reach of the highest flames. “I can’t get any closer. It’s going to be a long way down.”
Sam looked out the bubble-front window to assess the risk. By rough calculations, he figured that the distance was a little less than ten feet. One measly story. No problem.
“It’s close enough.”
Sam pulled the emergency ladder out from beneath his seat, then opened the passenger door and latched the ladder onto the metal rim. Carefully climbing out of the hovering helicopter, he was halfway down the ladder when Joe shifted position so that the distance from the ladder to the roof closed in from ten feet to eight.
Sam let go and dropped. The fall was faster than he’d expected, but he managed to land on the peeling roofing tiles with both feet and hands like a spider.
The helicopter pulled up and away, leaving an eerie stillness all around the remote mountain cabin. Sam understood why people liked living deep in the woods. Who wouldn’t want to listen to the wind through the trees and the rushing river, rather than traffic and neighbors? A cabin like this was the perfect place to get away from it all.
The only downside was that when danger struck, it usually meant there was no one around to help.
Suddenly, the silence was replaced by the sound of a child crying. Moving quickly across the roof, Sam found a rock cropping at the rear of the house. Using the rocks as natural steps to the ground, he headed in the direction of the cries toward an outbuilding.
A little girl with tear-streaked cheeks barreled into his legs. She was crying too hard for him to understand what she was saying, so he knelt down and gently brushed the hair out of her eyes. She was a skinny little thing and he wasn’t exactly sure how old she was, but he guessed she wasn’t quite in the double digits yet.
“Everything’s going to be okay,” he told her in a gentle voice. When her wild gaze finally locked onto his and her sobs receded, he asked, “Are your parents here?”
This time he was able to make out the words, “My dad’s away at work. My mom is sick.”
“Anyone else here with you?”
The girl shook her head.
“A dog or cat or iguana?”
Her lips almost curved up at his reptilian reference and he knew she was going to be just fine. Children were the first ones to forget their fear. He’d been just like that as a kid. So had his brother.
“I’m Sam. What’s your name?”
“Piper.”
“Can you show me where your mom is, Piper?”
The girl started running and Sam jogged behind her into the house. A woman was lying on the couch in a fetal position. Her hands were on her rounded stomach. She wasn’t crying, but her eyes were wide and he could see that she was frightened.
She was tall and blond and slim, and her features were close enough to those of a woman Sam used to know that something splintered apart in his chest before he could shut it down.
Dianna.
Forcefully pushing thoughts of his ex aside, he knelt beside the woman. “I’m a firefighter and I’ve come to help you. What’s your name?”
Her lips trembled slightly and her cheeks were wet from tears. “Tammy.”
“Your daughter tells me you’re not feeling well.”
“I’m cramping,” she whispered. “It’s too soon for the baby to come. And I’ve miscarried before.”
Every word was a knife in his gut. He knew, firsthand, how painful miscarriage was. His chest squeezed and his throat grew tight before he managed to take his emotions out of the picture.
After ten years as a hotshot, he knew better than to let anything get in the way of the job he had to do.
From the window above the couch, he could see the treetops bending in the mounting breeze. Within minutes, flames would roll over this house.
Joe was going to have a hell of a time getting down here to pick them up, and Sam found himself wondering if the three of them were going to make it out alive.
“Our phones went out and my husband has our car,” Tammy said in a frantic voice. “I didn’t think anyone was going to find us.” She started crying again. “I don’t want to lose my baby or let anything happen to my little girl.”
Damn it, he didn’t have time for doubt, for second-guessing himself. He had to get them out.
“Can you walk?”
She tried to stand up, then sank back into the cushions.
“It hurts too much,” she said, her cramps obviously far too intense for her to stay upright.
With the fire raging, there was no way Joe could drop low enough to the cabin in the helicopter to get near them. Besides, in her condition, Tammy couldn’t climb a ladder, which meant Sam needed to get them to an open patch where Joe could land.
Pulling out his radio, he said, “Joe, I’m heading northwest with a pregnant woman and her daughter. First open spot you can land, we’ll need pickup for transport to the nearest hospital. Radio me when you choose your spot. And keep it close.”
Reaching under Tammy’s knees and shoulders, he hoisted her into his arms. “Wrap your arms around my neck and hold on tight.” Turning to Piper he said, “You look like you’re pretty fast.”
“I am.”
He smiled at the pretty little girl. “Good. Let’s get out of here. We’re going to hitch a ride on a helicopter.”
Moving as fast as he could without jarring Tammy, they eventually made it past the cabin to the stream that ran adjacent to the property. The acrid smell of fresh smoke hung in the air, and he instructed them to cover their mouths with their shirts.
Joe radioed with news that he’d found a meadow a half mile up from the cabin. It was
a steady slope to get from the valley to the meadow, but even pregnant, Tammy didn’t weigh much.
As they began their ascent, he checked in with the brave little girl. “How are you doing, Piper?”
“Good. I’m going fast, aren’t I?”
“You sure are, Piper. Tammy? Am I moving too fast? Am I hurting you?”
She had stopped crying and he sensed that she had turned her entire focus to making it to the clearing, to getting up in the helicopter and flying to the hospital.
“Please, just hurry,” was her reply.
He hadn’t seen blood on her clothes or the couch when he’d picked her up, and he was praying that her cramping hadn’t yet turned into a full-blown miscarriage.
He’d been too late with his own child. He had to save this one.
“Everything’s going to be all right,” he promised, hoping like hell that he was telling the truth.
He couldn’t hear the helicopter yet, though, only the sound of hot flames already feasting on outbuildings. Could he get the three of them off the hill before they were next?
And then, thank God, he heard the whir of the helicopter’s blades above them.
“Joe’s coming to get us now,” he said, and a couple of minutes later, when they crested the hill, the helicopter was already on the ground, waiting for them. Together, the two men lifted Tammy into the aircraft.
On the way to the hospital, another helicopter was heading in with a full load of water. Squeezing Tammy’s hand, he smiled and said, “If the crew works fast, the fire may not move beyond your outbuildings and they’ll be able to save your house.”
“I don’t care about my house,” she said, her voice even weaker. “All I want is a healthy baby.”
It was all he’d wanted for himself, too. “I know,” he told her. “We just need you to hold on a little longer, okay?”
Piper was holding tightly to her mother’s hand. “You’re going to be okay, Mama. And so will my baby sister.”
He swallowed hard, the ache in his chest threatening to split wide open. If things had turned out differently for him, he would have had a kid Piper’s age.