by Marnee Blake
“People have been telling me that a lot lately.” He probably wanted that to come out light, but it sucked the levity from the room.
She returned to the table, retrieving some medical tape. She wrapped a bandage on his wrist to cover the abrasion, shaking her head. “You know this isn’t funny, right?”
He sighed. “I know, Meg.”
“You aren’t going to be able to hide this from Joe and Mitch and Bates, you know that too, right?” Because that was what she was afraid of, that he was going to try to downplay this. At this rate, he was going to get killed. She refused to not take that seriously.
“I know. I’m going to tell them tomorrow, let the chips fall.” Meg could tell how much pain that caused him, and her fingers tightened.
“Who do you think is doing this?” She put down the ointment a little harder than she had to, and went to the sink to wash her hands. Standing too close to him wasn’t helping her out of this conversation.
He exhaled, rolling his sleeve back over his arm. “I don’t know. I don’t have a lot of friends here anymore, but the only people who seem to actively hate me are Sledge and your brothers.”
“No.” Her stomach twisted, and she shook her head. This couldn’t be her brothers. “Hunter…”
“I know. Definitely not Hunter.” He grinned, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “If he’d sabotaged a parachute, he would have remembered which one it was.”
“No…” She breathed. Because that left Will. “Will…he wouldn’t have done this. He might not like you but—”
Lifting his hand, he stopped her. “I know. I don’t think it’s him either. He’s on the team. He wouldn’t want to risk his job tormenting me. Personally, I think it’s Sledge.”
“Why?”
“You saw how he tried to antagonize me. I don’t think he’s above stealing my things or tormenting me.”
“But the parachute? And this…accident.” These weren’t ordinary playground pranks.
“You don’t think this was an accident either.”
“Please. If it was the only thing going on, I might be able to write it off as an accident. But with everything else? No way.”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. The guy doesn’t like me.”
“Still, that doesn’t mean that he’s trying to kill you out of professional competition.”
“Have any other suggestions then?”
“No. I don’t.” She shook her head. “Do you think it has something to do with you looking into…our fathers?” It was time to get this out of the way. As hard as talking about their fathers might be, it was probably easier than chatting about whatever else they weren’t talking about.
Like how she loved him, and he was destroying her inside.
Pretty frightening when conversations about the past were safer than talks about what was happening now.
“Why don’t I tell you what I know?”
A large part of her didn’t want to know. A smaller, more cleverly-buried part did. Her stomach clenching, she shrugged.
“Okay.” He nodded, inhaling as if to steady himself. “I convinced my mother to request the investigation report from the Forest Service a couple years ago.”
Her exhale slid out, slow and smooth, and with it went all of the calm she’d built around herself for the past ten years.
“And?” she asked.
“The report stated that the spotter’s radio caught our dads arguing before they jumped. Nothing incriminating and nothing definitive. Your Uncle Joe jumped right before them. They mentioned his name, and they argued about the wind. Somehow, they all ended up on the wrong side of the fire.”
Her gut twisted, and she gripped the edge of the bench, rocking. The words tore at her chest.
“They argued and then jumped into the fire?” She shook her head. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“I know.” He tapped his knuckles on the table. “I’ve called a few of their old crew. One didn’t give me any new information. I’m still waiting to hear from another, but the last said he would give me what he had, but I haven’t heard from him.”
“Did you talk to my uncle? He said he didn’t remember much from that day but he was there. Maybe he’d have some insight.” Even as she suggested it, thinking about her uncle having to relive that day…it squeezed her chest.
“No. I didn’t.” Shrugging, he offered a sheepish grin. “I didn’t know how to ask. I figured it would come up, eventually, that there was no rush. I never expected to have to figure out who was trying to kill me.”
“You don’t think…my uncle…” She couldn’t even voice the suggestion. What had happened over the past days that she would even consider that her family was capable of hurting others?
Lance shook his head. “He only found out yesterday that I was checking into the facts of the investigation. What would his motive have been?”
Nodding, she swallowed hard. That made sense, didn’t it? If anything in this mess made sense anymore…
He pursed his lips, pausing. Finally, he said, “When I hear from our fathers’ crewmates, would you come with me? To see them?”
“You want me to come? After you kept this from me?”
He stood, closing the distance between them. Tenderly, he took her hands in his and met her eyes. A shiver danced across her skin, sending heat to her stomach. “I shouldn’t have done that. Keeping secrets from you…that was a huge mistake. I promise you, I won’t lie to you again.”
She wanted to believe him, more than anything else.
But did she want to learn more about what happened all those years ago? Her first reaction? No. Absolutely not. She didn’t want to hear about their arguing or whatever decision-making process had sent her father careening into an inferno.
How was she going to explain that? “I’ll come with you.” The words came out more decisive than she expected.
“Great,” he said, his smile wide. “I’ll let you know.”
“Still not sure what I can do for you.” She hadn’t done the research he’d done. All she was doing was tagging along.
“If you’re asking questions about any of this, people will answer. This town feels for you, for your loss.” He shrugged, his hands tucked away in his pockets. “No one wants to help me dig up information.” He rocked forward, from the balls of his feet to his heels and back again.
She could only stare, and the truth of what he said seeped into her. He was right. If she asked any of her father’s former teammates, they would help her, tell her anything she wanted to know. Everyone looked at her, her family, like victims.
They pitied them.
Lance would meet scorn.
As she stared up at him, she wanted to touch him. To squeeze his arm, to reach for his hand. Something to span the distance between them. Except if she touched him, she’d crumble. She’d forgive him, or she wouldn’t care that she hadn’t forgiven him. She’d fall into his arms, yet nothing would change.
She spun, leaning back against the sink on her hands. “What are the plans now? You’re just going to keep looking into the fire, stay on at the air center?”
“I don’t know, Meg.” His voice was tortured, and she closed her eyes against it.
“What happens when one of these pranks puts you in the hospital next to Hunter?” That was a low blow, but from where she stood maybe that’s how she had to fight. “I already almost lost one person I love to this.”
Still unable to face him, she stopped there, the words floating in the air between them like smoke. Because she hadn’t said it, not explicitly, but it was implied. She’d already almost lost somebody she loved implied she also loved him.
His hand gripped her forearm, turning her gently. He placed a hand on each side of her on the sink, pinning her between him and the counter.
Gazing down at her, his gray eyes burned in
to hers. “What are you saying?”
She couldn’t hold his gaze. “I mean, I almost lost Hunter—I can’t—it’s so dangerous.” She stumbled along until she ran out of words.
“No, not that part.” His voice had dropped to a whisper, and his hand slid along her cheek, his fingertips rubbing her hair, behind her ear. “The other part.”
“Oh, Lance.” Unable to resist the warmth of him, she tilted her head into his palm, closing her eyes. She breathed out. “I can’t believe it’s a secret how I feel.”
His lips fell on hers then, firm and insistent. He tilted her head as she gasped, using the opportunity to take her mouth more fully. His other hand curved around her back, pulling her against him, and she ran her hands up his back to hold onto his shirt. She couldn’t get close enough to him. Maybe it was having him come so close to being seriously harmed today, or it could be that she would never be able to get enough of him. She didn’t know. Either way, with him against her, things made sense. They felt right.
Kissing wasn’t enough for long. He slipped his hands under her butt and lifted her. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she continued kissing him as he turned. He stumbled a little—thanks to his ankle—before he seated her on the table.
Swiping the medical supplies onto the floor, he coaxed her to lie back. As she broke their kiss, she whispered, “You think this can hold us?”
“We’re going to find out.” Reaching to the waistband on her yoga pants, he slid them and her panties off in one motion. Then he bent over and dropped his face into the junction of her thighs.
She gripped the edges of the tabletop as she cried out, her head tilted up to the light. God, he was so good with his mouth. As his lips and tongue played over the sensitive skin, his palms held her legs open. Splayed like this on the table, he had made her a feast.
As she got close to coming, she squirmed. “No, inside me. Please.”
She didn’t want to come the first time alone. As he stood, reaching for the button on his pants, his gaze was hot. There was a new level of intensity between them. Something about this sex was different than any of the times before. This time, as he slipped the condom on and slid between her legs, the connection between them was so intimate she couldn’t look away. It would have been like abandoning him.
As he pressed inside her, she watched the play of emotions on his face and the vulnerability there was humbling. But when he began to move, she couldn’t keep her eyes open, the pull of the sensations too much for her.
She allowed him to take the lead, letting herself get swept away by him inside her, his hands on her, and she tried to forget that when it was over, nothing would be different.
* * * *
The next morning when he arrived at the air center, Lance didn’t say anything to anyone about his accident. He planned to talk to Joe and Bates first. But he couldn’t exactly hide the stitches on his face. Or the fact that he was driving a rental.
“What happened?” Dak asked under his breath as they stretched in preparation for their morning run.
He glanced at his friend, his mouth thinning. Though the rest of them didn’t deserve an explanation, he should have texted Dak. There were too many people around, though, so Lance only shook his head. “Later.”
He wasn’t going to get that lucky.
“I hear your truck had an unfortunate run-in with a tree yesterday,” Sledge commented as he laced up his running shoes. “Sucks when that happens.”
Lance tossed his track jacket into his cubby with more force than necessary. “You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” Of everyone at the air center, Sledge had the most animosity toward him. He couldn’t think of a better suspect.
The corner of Sledge’s mouth turned up. “I have friends. EMT, volunteer firemen, policemen. They know who you are.” Sledge got up, folding his arms over his chest. “Did you tell Joe or Mitch or anyone yet?”
Because he hadn’t tracked them down yet, he deflected. “None of your business.” He motioned to the room. “I’m here. I’m ready to work.”
“Accidents follow you around, Roberts.” Sledge shook his head.
“You should be thinking about our final test, not about me.”
“What happens to you affects me.” Sledge’s usual snide look dissipated, leaving only seriousness. “As much as I hate to admit it, you’re going to graduate.” Lance wanted to add that he and Sledge were tied for top of their class, but he refrained. Sledge continued, “Whatever is going on with you affects us all. If you’re in danger, you put us all at risk.”
They stared at each other, and as much as Lance wanted to hate the guy—for his arrogance, his irritating way of being right all the time—he had to agree with him. He was right, both about the danger and its possible effect on the team. And as much as he hated to admit it, he had to admire that Sledge voiced his concern. If Sledge only cared about himself and his position in the team, he might be able to hate him. As he studied Sledge’s face, he could see real concern there. He was worried about their teammates, and in that way, they had something in common.
“I have a meeting with Bates this afternoon. We’re going to discuss what they find from the crash investigation.” The words brought a fresh stab of shame. Lance hated that he was the one bringing this kind of drama and turmoil to their class. Behind the embarrassment was the always-present anger. This was bullshit. He didn’t deserve to be dealing with this, but he didn’t know what else to do.
Sledge nodded. “Good.”
As they continued to stare each other down, Lance chuckled. The guy really was a piece of work. “Anything else I can do for you?”
“No,” Sledge said, and then after a pause, he added, “Just for the record, though, I want you to know that this is messed up.” He crossed his arms over his chest, his face twisting as if what he was about to say didn’t agree with his stomach. “I don’t like you, no secret. But—” he shrugged. “You work hard, and you’re one tough, stubborn asshole. You’ve proved to me that you deserve to be here. So whoever’s fucking with you…if we find out who it is, he’ll answer to me, too.”
Without another word, he grabbed the rest of his workout gear and strolled out, leaving a mixture of stunned silence and chuckles in his wake.
Well, didn’t that take the cake? Lance had wondered more than once if Sledge had something to do with all of the accidents around him. He still wasn’t sure the guy was in the clear, but their conversation proved once again that there was no telling what was going on in someone’s head.
Dropping the rest of his things, he decided not to put this off any longer. Striding into Joe’s office, he knocked on the doorframe. “Joe? You got a minute?”
The base manager glanced up. He took in the stitches on Lance’s face, the bandage on his arm. “I do.”
“There was an accident last night. My Jeep. We should talk.” The words stuck in his throat.
Joe’s mouth firmed and then he nodded. “The police detective called earlier. After your run this afternoon, come back. We’ll talk before you meet with Bates.”
He rapped his knuckles on the door again. “Right. Sounds good.”
As he returned to his spot, he wondered if today would be his last day of training.
Chapter 17
Meg was running late.
She led the recruits on their afternoon run, and she couldn’t help the burst of pride she had in them. Over the past four weeks, they’d all improved tremendously. Their endurance had increased, they’d slimmed down, and all of their times were better now.
Lance had avoided her eyes for the majority of the day, his movements efficient but jerky, as if he was irritated. She wondered what was going on even as she tried not to let her imagination get out of control. He was dealing with a lot right now. Surely, he was entitled to be distracted.
The weather was getting warmer and she worked up
a real sweat, so she grabbed a quick shower before she was supposed to meet with Joe.
She twisted her wet hair into a bun and wondered what this was about. Mitch had made a few comments recently that he might not want to do this again next year. She wondered if Joe was going to approach her to take Mitch’s spot. She tried not to get her hopes up, though. This was only her first year. She had no idea if there were other more seasoned applicants. Still, her heart picked up.
As she twisted the knob and opened Joe’s office, though, any chance this meeting was about a promotion flew out the window.
The gathered group looked just like the one earlier this week when investigator Bates had arrived. He stood next to Joe’s desk, his face grim. Joe and Mitch were also in attendance, and Lance had taken up the seat in front of Joe’s desk again.
Fear twisted her stomach, making her nauseous, and reminding her she hadn’t eaten much at lunch today. She hadn’t eaten much over the past two days, actually.
What had happened now? She couldn’t help scanning Lance for any new bruising or injury. She hated that she did that. She wondered if she’d ever be able to stop now. Would she always be waiting for the next time he got hurt?
She shied away from that. This wasn’t the time to be exploring all of the concerns in her relationship.
Stepping inside, she closed the door quietly behind her. “Sorry I’m late.”
“No problem,” Mitch said. “I told them you’d been out on a run.”
Lance mustn’t have stopped for a shower, because he still wore his workout clothes and his hair was still damp. Even so, or maybe because of, he looked as sexy as ever.
She glanced around the room. “What’s this about?”
Joe sighed. “I’ll let Mr. Bates explain.”
Bates picked a file folder off of Joe’s desk, but he didn’t take anything out of it. “These are the results of the investigation into Mr. Roberts’s crash yesterday. According to diagnostics on his vehicle, there was an unusually large amount of sand in his fuel tank.” He put the file back down on the desk. “The sand contaminated the fuel filter, causing the vehicle to stall, and resulting in the loss of Mr. Roberts’ power steering and power brakes. The confluence of all of those factors caused his accident.”