She stood in front of the mirror and ran her fingers through her short hair, making him mourn the loss of her mussed up, just-been-fucked-good do.
Still naked, he stood behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed the side of her neck. “I have a better idea.”
“Better than cake?” she asked, holding herself stiffly in his arms.
“Oh, no. It involves cake. If Victoria wants cake, she’s getting cake. But how about we order it from room service and find creative surfaces for you to eat it off of?”
Other than a slight shiver, she remained stiff as a board in his arms. “But it won’t be Tony and Camille’s wedding cake. No strawberry and vanilla crème filling.”
He met her gaze in the mirror, noticing for the first time that she looked a little panicked. “Victoria, is something wrong?”
“No, why would anything be wrong?” She bent down and picked up his boxers and undershirt and handed them to him. “I want cake.”
“Okay. Cake it is.” He started to dress, cursing himself for being a fool.
Victoria was freaking out, and this cake was taking on the same importance as the roast beef sandwich from the night they’d first met. This was her thing. Fixating on things as a means of distraction.
And what exactly, was she trying to distract herself from? Him obviously. He’d been an idiot to think Victoria was the type who could casually enter into a purely physical relationship.
She was too good a human being for the kinds of relationships he had. Relationships where the transactions were physical, not emotional. Relationships where the expectations on both sides were pathetically low.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he’d known that, but he’d been so filled with desire, so desperate to get his hands on her body, that he’d let himself believe her when she suggested a no-strings liaison.
Christ, she’d probably been half-drunk from champagne, and asshole that he was, he’d taken advantage. Bile rose in his throat and denials invaded his brain. He couldn’t have sunk that low, could he? How many glasses had she had? He’d seen her drink one over dinner. Then at least two more. And how much had she had to drink with the wedding party before he’d arrived?
His mind played back the evening’s events but with a more critical eye this time. She’d certainly been a less reserved version of herself tonight. Practically dirty dancing with him after the garter toss. Making out with him in a stairwell when anyone in her family could have walked in. And then there was the drowsiness. She’d almost fallen asleep on his shoulder while he was shooting the shit with her dad.
Maybe she’d been more tipsy than he’d realized.
The worst kind of self-loathing settled in the pit of his stomach.
Almost finished dressing, he tied his tie while she used the bathroom. If she wanted cake, then dammit, they’d get cake. The least he could do after all this was appease whatever whim she might have for the rest of the evening.
Tightening his tie, he looked at his reflection in the mirror with disgust. Dammit, he was no better than his mother. Whenever she’d done something despicable she’d tried to win back his affection by bribing him with sweets, and here he was, doing the same damn thing to Victoria.
Suddenly feeling suffocated, he hooked his forefinger under the tie to loosen its chokehold.
“Do you smell that?” she asked, coming out of the bathroom.
“Smell what?” He stepped closer to her, studying her face as closely as he would if he were giving her a field sobriety test. Eyes focused, no sign of nystagmus. She appeared blessedly sober.
“Smoke. Do you smell smoke?” She went to the door and yanked it open. Jason followed her into the hall where the smell was definitely stronger. The smoke alarm sounded and lights started flashing in the hallway.
Victoria pounded on hotel room doors as they rushed toward the stairs. “Everybody out!”
The sprinklers engaged, and people started appearing in the hall and heading for the exit. One man came out, looked around, and started to go back into his room.
Victoria grabbed his arm. “Outside, sir. You need to leave.”
“But my things…”
“Are not as important as your life.” She nudged him away from his room. “Let’s go.”
Completely soaked from the sprinklers, he and Victoria continued down the hall to the side stairwell, encouraging people to leave as they went.
At the stairwell entrance, Jason looked back down the hall where smoke was billowing out from under a door at the other end. Flames appeared on the carpet and spread out into the hall. “Holy shit.”
Victoria followed his gaze and then pulled him by the hand. “Out. Now.”
They hurried down the stairs, people from other floors joining them on the way down. Outside, Jason followed Victoria who was moving frantically through the crowd.
“Grandma!” She rushed toward an elderly woman and held her by the shoulders, looking her over. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, but Sophie…”
“Where’s Sophie?” Victoria’s voice was barely audible over the sound of sirens.
“She went up to her room. Said she was tired…”
Jason leaned toward Victoria’s grandmother, hoping she could hear him. “What floor is Sophie on?”
“Uh…six, I think.”
Jason looked out over the crowd, trying to find the tell-tale curly white hair. Not seeing anyone who even remotely resembled Sophie, he started for the hotel.
Victoria grabbed his arm. “No. Jason! Stop.”
“But she has trouble walking…”
“I know that.” Her voice was steady, even while her eyes were wide with panic. “But you know as well as I do that if you go in there and succumb to smoke, you’re one more body the firefighters have to risk their lives for.”
He nodded, knowing she was right and amazed she could be so rational when it was her aunt inside.
“Victoria.” Jason grabbed her arm as she was heading back toward her grandmother. He pulled her in close and spoke low into her ear so as not to induce panic. “Does Sophie have oxygen tanks in her room?”
Victoria inhaled sharply, her eyes widening. “Yes, probably one or two spare portable tanks and a larger one she uses when she sleeps.”
“If her room is near the fire—”
“Shit, I know.” She pushed him toward the crowd. “You clear that crowd. Make them stand further away from the building. I’ll alert the firefighters.”
He nodded and jogged over to the people gathered outside the hotel’s front entrance. He opened his badge wallet and held it high. “I need everybody as far away from the building as possible.”
If those tanks got hot enough…
Few things were more flammable than pure oxygen. The explosion would be epic.
And not in a good way.
Obeying his badge, the crowd started moving further away from the building and far into the parking lot. The firefighters rolled out their hoses, and amongst the chaos Jason registered the fact that the first trucks to arrive were from none other than Evanston’s Fire Station Three. He scanned the crowd for Victoria but didn’t see her among the men rushing about to tame the crackling flames.
The blast came out of nowhere—a circular burst of flames plumed from the sixth floor and startled screams sounded from the displaced hotel guests. Guests who only moments before where close enough to be hit by the falling debris.
God, he hoped Sophie had made it out of the hotel. He scanned the crowd again, searching for Sophie and Victoria.
The need to lay eyes on Victoria was overwhelming. He needed to see her, needed to know she was okay. She’d said she was going to alert the firefighters, and they were much closer to the building than the hotel guests, but they had protective helmets. When the blast happened, they were probably safe with their gear on. But Victoria? If she’d been out by the trucks, she could’ve been seriously injured.
Heart racing, he weighed the risks of
moving closer. “Victoria!” He called her name a second time and headed toward the trucks. Where the hell was she?
The second blast was even louder than the first, the sound so intense it was a physical force that moved through his body, like being hit by a wall of sound. Unable to get closer with the intense heat radiating from the building, Jason turned and searched the swarm of people again. Panic clawed at his chest.
Victoria was nowhere to be seen.
Chapter 15
“I’m sorry, miss. You can’t go any further.” The young firefighter motioned for Victoria to turn around, but she held her ground. Aunt Sophie leaned heavily on her arm, her breathing labored.
“Andy, come on. It’s me, Russo.” She held tighter to Sophie who was beginning to sag. “I need to get my aunt out to the ambulance.”
“Vic? Geez, sorry. I didn’t even recognize you.” Andy’s appreciative gaze traveled the length of her body and her clinging, soaking wet bridesmaid’s dress. “Looking good, girl.”
“Andy. Focus.”
“Right. Sorry.” Andy glanced away sheepishly, ostensibly searching for the ambulance. “I can radio rescue and tell them they’re needed back here.”
“Please do.”
After she’d alerted the first firefighter she saw about the oxygen tanks, she’d run to the back of the hotel, careful to keep her distance from the building. She knew people would be coming out all available exits and she’d prayed that Sophie had come out one of the back doors.
The relief she’d felt upon seeing the old woman, shuffling slowly away from the building, had brought the air back into her lungs, allowing her to breathe easy for the first time since she’d smelled the smoke. She’d laid eyes on almost everyone in her family and knew that they’d all likely gotten out safely. Thank the Virgin Mary.
However, it quickly became apparent that Sophie was struggling without her oxygen.
The ambulance arrived quickly—a good sign that there probably weren’t any injuries. Otherwise, they would’ve had to wait for another unit to arrive.
She’d never been so happy to see Mike Flaherty in her life. “She needs oxygen,” she said without preamble.
Flaherty nodded, looking only slightly perturbed that she was giving orders and taking over. Slightly perturbed was a vast improvement from his usual attitude toward her, so she’d take it. “She’s got COPD and emphysema.”
“Got it.” He handed her the mask, and Victoria placed it gently over Sophie’s face.
“Here you go,” she said. “Let’s have a seat.”
Flaherty pulled the gurney out, and Victoria helped her aunt get situated.
“Victoria!” Jason’s voice rang out across the parking lot as he came jogging toward her. “What the hell are you doing back here?”
“I found Soph—”
“Are you kidding me? What the fuck were you thinking? You told me not to go back inside, but then you risk your life—”
“Hold on a second.” Victoria stepped away from Aunt Sophie and put her hand on Jason’s chest, intending to stop his angry advance and calm him at the same time. “I didn’t go back inside. I ran around the building, hoping that she’d come out the back exit and she had.”
His chest deflated slightly beneath her hand. “I couldn’t find you,” he said, his voice gentler than before. “Those tanks on the sixth floor exploded…and I couldn’t find you.”
Hand still against his chest, she felt his racing heartbeat begin to slow down. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
He placed his hand over hers, holding it over his heart. “You’re okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine.”
His gaze searched her face intently for a moment, making her throat tighten. He’d obviously been beside himself with worry for her—which was the only reason she’d forgiven the what-the-fuck-were-you-thinking comment—and she’d be lying if she said it didn’t warm her from the inside out to have someone looking out for her like that.
He glanced at Sophie. “How’s she doing?”
Sophie pulled the mask away from her face, stretching the strap and holding it a few inches out. “She can answer for herself and she’s just fine, thank you very much.” She let the mask snap back into place over her mouth.
A small smile cracked through Jason’s intense expression. “Glad to hear it.”
Victoria started to pull her hand back, but Jason gave it a little squeeze and held fast. “I saw your mom and dad out front. Looks like they got out just fine.”
“Yes, I think everyone in my family’s accounted for now that we’ve found Sophie.”
“That’s good.”
Chaos ensued around them. Flaherty was taking Sophie’s vitals. Hotel guests were reuniting with one another. Staff were scurrying around reassuring people as best they could. But all of that faded to the background for Victoria. All she could see were Jason’s eyes—those eyes that could take her to the peacefulness of the lakeshore in seconds—and all she could feel was the soothing pressure of his thumb idly rubbing the back of her hand while he held it to his chest.
“Don’t disappear like that again, okay?” he said, his voice low and gruff. “You scared the shit out of me.”
“I—” Words stuck in her throat, and the panic from earlier that evening returned to wreak havoc on her insides. She got that free-fall feeling in her stomach and could do nothing more than lose herself in the depths of his gaze. “I’m sorry,” she finally managed to say. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her protectively, and she melted. Insides turning to mush, she nuzzled her cheek against his shoulder.
In her line of work, she was used to being regarded as capable—by all but Flaherty anyway. People didn’t worry about her. And that was great. It meant she was seen as responsible, smart, strong.
But Jason…Jason seemed to respect her competence—following her out of the building when he’d wanted to go back for Sophie—while worrying about her anyway.
If she didn’t know better, she might’ve let herself believe he actually cared for her.
She closed her eyes against the realization that she wanted him to care. She wanted it so badly, because every minute she was with him, she fell just a little bit further. Which proved definitively that she was the same stupid girl who’d wasted too many years on Graham, who’d been too blind to see the writing on the wall.
She opened her eyes and pulled back from his embrace. “I should go see if they need my help.”
Yes, she should go. She should go and remind herself she didn’t have to be that stupid love-struck girl anymore. She didn’t have to keep handing her heart over to men who didn’t want it in the first place.
*
It would be quite a while before Jason could go any further with his investigation. He’d done what he could for the last few hours—interviewed guests and staff, talked to a few firefighters, taken photographs, sifted through what he could among the steaming embers. Now, there was nothing left to do until the last of the flames on the sixth floor were extinguished, and even then, it wasn’t likely he’d be able to get to the room where the fire had started without special equipment. That part of the sixth floor was no longer structurally sound.
The sun started to peek over the horizon, painting the skies in blues and oranges that were eerily reminiscent of last night’s fire. With most of the guests relocated and the parking lot fairly clear, the dawn brought a peaceful silence. If he closed his eyes, he might be able to imagine the sound of the fire hose was just that of a waterfall. But he didn’t close his eyes, because if he did, he’d probably pass the fuck out.
Victoria, on the other hand, had no such lack of energy. He walked toward the ambulance where she was assisting a woman who’d only just realized she’d twisted her ankle running down the stairs to escape the burning hotel. The adrenaline had likely kept her pain at bay through the crisis, but not long ago, she’d hobbled up to the ambulance and asked for help
.
He leaned against one of the parking lot lamps and watched Victoria wrap the woman’s ankle with swift, accurate movements. She was still wearing her bridesmaid’s dress but had jumped in to help wherever she could. She smiled at the woman, offering words of comfort that didn’t quite reach his ears. The woman smiled back, visibly relaxing in Victoria’s care. And who wouldn’t? She had a way of putting everyone at ease, of taking charge and making people feel like everything was going to be all right. He’d seen it in action several times throughout the night after he’d found her and Sophie behind the hotel.
He fought against the memory of that moment. He didn’t want to think about the sheer terror he’d felt when he’d thought she’d run back into the building for Sophie. It was an irrational thought. He knew Victoria would never do something like that. She was far too practical. Too smart to risk the lives of her fellow rescuers. But rational thought hadn’t really played into it for him in that moment. All he’d been able to register was a horrible feeling of helplessness that he hadn’t been with her, that he hadn’t been there to protect her.
“I think it’s just a bad sprain,” she said to the woman. “But it probably wouldn’t hurt to have it x-rayed.” They spoke for a few more moments, but the woman didn’t need transport as her injury wasn’t urgent and her husband was able to drive her to the hospital. When she hobbled away with her husband’s help, Victoria jumped back on the rig and started straightening up.
“Don’t you think it’s about time you went home and got some sleep?” he asked her.
“There are still things to do.”
“Who’s manning this rig? Let them do it. You’re not on shift now.”
She didn’t glance up from her work but continued returning equipment to the proper places in the truck. “You’re still here.”
Burn for You Page 15