Bad Boy's Kiss (Firemen in Love Book 2)

by Amy Starling

  “Damn it.” I spun the ATV around. “Guess I'll take that side path back there.”

  Just as I did a one eighty, there was that familiar cracking noise. A dead pine had erupted into a fireball – and I knew from putting out Christmas tree fires how flammable those things could be. The fire took mere seconds to engulf the tree, and before I could react, it toppled to the ground.

  I swerved to avoid it, but that was a mistake. A heavy branch came down and connected with my head. Pounding pain radiated through my skull, and for a moment the world turned white.

  Everything happened so quickly. The blow to my head disoriented me so much that I lost control of the vehicle. The ATV and I flipped upside-down, throwing me over the side of the ravine. Moments later, it smashed into the rocks below and burst into flame.

  I was lucky to hit a slope instead of plummeting to my doom down there. I landed on my back, knocking the breath out of me, then rolled down the hill so fast I nearly threw up. My injured head throbbed; blood trickled from the wound down my face.

  I came to a stop just before tumbling over the edge again. A pointy cactus broke my fall, but I hardly noticed the pain of thorns piercing my skin.

  Above, the fire roared. It had somehow just gotten ten times worse, and here I was, stuck and injured, in the middle of it.

  “Gotta call for help. C'mon, Max. Don't be a sissy.”

  I called Chris on the radio, but he didn't answer. Jake didn't, either. I got nothing but static.

  “What's wrong with this damn thing?” I shook the radio. Something rattled inside. “Just great.”

  The whir of a chopper's blades made me look up. A helicopter was coming, but I couldn't tell if it was the news crew or someone who could actually help us. It zoomed low overhead, kicking up mighty clouds of dust that got in my eyes.

  It was getting hotter and hotter as the inferno surrounded me, and I couldn't do a damn thing about it. The slope I fell down was too steep to climb up, and besides, the only thing waiting for me at the top was the fire. No way could I dodge it now.

  I'd been in bad situations before, but there was always someone from my team there to help. Now, I was alone. Nobody knew I'd fallen. They thought I went to get water. And the odds of them cutting a path through the burning woods to search for me? Not so good.

  Then another tree fell. I saw it in slow motion, really. Its wide trunk swayed and then toppled right in my direction. A branch, sharp and pointed enough to penetrate a man's flesh, came at me like the executioner's ax.

  If I didn't move – now – that thing was going straight through my chest. I would die, no question.

  So I did the only thing I could. I dropped to the ground and tried to roll away.

  It was in vain. The tree, hundreds of pounds of wood, fell square on my leg. Before I could even scream from the pain, the old oak rolled over the ledge and took me with it.

  Down I plummeted, like a stone sinking in the water. It must have been only a couple seconds, but in my mind, I felt it as an eternity.

  In that moment, a vision of Anna came to me. Her sweet, pretty face. Her smile. I could see it now.

  “Fuck!”

  I landed on my knees some thirty feet below. Every bone in my leg felt like it had shattered; every muscle torn. The pain in my head was nothing compared to this agony. It was so awful I couldn't move, couldn't even breathe.

  This was it. I was gonna die here, and nobody would ever find me 'cause my body was burned to ashes by the flames. Trey would lose his brother, just when we were starting to be friends again.

  And Anna... How would she react when she heard the news? Would it bother her? Did I matter to her at all?

  Used to think I knew what I wanted in life. Laying in a pit, delirious from pain and about to burn to death, sure changed a man's perspective on things.

  What surprised me most was the regret. Where did it come from so suddenly? Why did it make me so sad?

  My consciousness waned; my vision blurred. I was bleeding from more than one place now. Getting woozy from blood loss. If I didn't do something, anything, I was doomed.

  I felt for the phone in my pocket. Managed to pull it out and turn it on, but it died before I had a chance to even dial 911.

  Something white sticking out of my leg caught my eye. Took me a moment to realize it was my own bone.

  I threw up, closed my eyes, and said a prayer to the God I stopped talking to years ago. It didn't help, and I knew why.

  God didn't save bastards like me.

  Chapter 9 - Anna

  I was just about to slip into bed when the phone rang. Trey gave me the message that made my stomach sick.

  There had been a terrible accident in the woods. They'd gotten the fire under control, but Max...

  “Damn it, Max.” I cursed as I sped through the stop sign. “I told you to be careful. You always were a reckless idiot.”

  He'd been hurt bad, Trey said. Real bad.

  Soon as I heard that, I threw a jacket over my night shirt and sped off to the hospital. Why? What exactly was I going there for? I didn't understand it, but I had a powerful urge to see him, to make sure he would be okay.

  He could be a dimwit who spoke without thinking sometimes, yeah. And he was a selfish jerk who clearly only cared about his own needs in life.

  But he was the only one who knew my secret – and had thus far managed to keep his trap shut about it. He tried to help me, even if his “help” was the misguided sort. I felt that somehow, I had to pay him back.

  The hospital was about twenty minutes from my place. When I got there, it was so late I had no trouble finding a parking spot right in front.

  Inside, a lone nurse sat at the front desk, boredly swiping through her phone. She barely glanced up when I came to her.

  “I'm here to see Max McLaren.”

  She sighed and clicked something on the computer. “Visiting hours are between nine and eight unless you're family.” She gazed up at me, the end of her pen in her mouth. “You're not family, are you?”

  No, I wasn't – but I wouldn't let that stop me. I had to see him. Wouldn't be able to sleep tonight unless I talked to him and saw him with my own eyes.

  “Actually, yeah.” I rubbed my somewhat rounded belly. “I'm, uh... his wife.”

  It was the biggest, dumbest lie I ever told. I don't know what I was thinking. How could she believe that? I had no ring on my finger, for starters.

  The nurse's eyes widened. “Gee, I didn't know Max had a wife. I went to high school with the guy. Figured a playboy like that would never get married; no offense.”

  I laughed weakly. “None taken. Can I go to him now?”

  “Room three eleven.” She waved her pen at the elevator. “But don't stay too long, okay? He's very weak and exhausted from the operation. The sooner he gets some rest, the better.”

  I thanked her and, feeling pretty darn proud of myself, slipped into the elevator.

  “Guess I'm still good at convincing people of things that aren't true,” I murmured. “No wonder dad always said I'd make a fine lawyer.”

  On floor three, I found Trey pacing around in the hallway. He sighed with relief when I hurried over to him.

  “Oh, Anna.” He gave me a tight hug. “This is all my fault.”

  “What? How could you say that?”

  His eyes were red, his face blotchy where tears had fallen. “I'm the one who practically begged the guy to come down here. If it weren't for me...”

  I shushed him. “The only thing you're guilty of is wanting to see your brother. I'm sure he doesn't blame you for this.”

  “The doctors said he might never walk again. They aren't really sure yet. Depends if he's done any lasting damage to his spine.”

  My God. This was worse than I thought – way worse.

  “I still don't understand what happened. I watched the coverage of the fire on the news. Max texted me early this morning, and then that's the last I heard of him all day long.” I glanced the other way. “I w
as... worried. Suppose I had a right to be.”

  Trey sank into one of the hard plastic chairs, his shoulders slumped. “He took off to refill his water tank, but never came back. About that time, his team realized the fire had gotten too big for them alone to handle. They retreated to a safe place, then soon realized Max wasn't there.”

  I gazed at the door to his room. It was quiet in there, though I could faintly hear the murmur of the television. If he could watch TV, maybe things weren't as bad as Trey made them sound.

  “Everyone in the area dropped what they were doing to search. Thanks to a chopper flying overhead, they found him lying in a ditch, unconscious. He apparently had an accident and drove his ATV into the ravine, which is about a thirty five-foot drop.”

  “Sounds like a miracle he's even alive.”

  He nodded. “It truly is. So many worse things could have happened to him. I hate to say he should be grateful for 'only' ninety nine stitches, though.”

  “You said something about his legs on the phone.”

  “Yeah. You'll have to see for yourself how nasty it is.”

  I could handle chicken poop, helping a cow give birth, and other unpleasant stuff like that. When it came to blood and gore, though, I was admittedly squeamish.

  That, combined with my unease from the persistent morning sickness, didn't bode too well for keeping my dinner down when I went in there.

  “Is it really okay for me to go in? I don't want to wake him.”

  “He's already half awake, just kind of doped up on painkillers. He'll be fine to chat for a few minutes.” He got up and squeezed my hand. “Besides, he's the one who asked to see you.”

  “Me?”

  “Yeah. I might as well get home and try to sleep, I suppose.” He headed for the elevator, then paused. “Maybe I'm being silly, but Anna... You know I warned you about him.”

  “Don't know what you mean.”

  “He's trouble. You give him an inch, and he'll take a mile. I do hate talking that way about my own brother, but I know how he is. Just don't want to see you get hurt.”

  “That won't happen.”

  Except I realized it already had. Knowing what he'd gone through, the pain he must be in, hurt me too.

  Trey got in the elevator, and then I was alone in the hall. I knocked softly on Max's door and let myself in without waiting for a response.

  I'd tried preparing myself for what waited in here, but the reality of it was worse than my imagination. Max lay in his bed, both of his legs in casts from his feet to just above the knee. His scalp was wrapped in thick gauze. Various cuts, bruises, and burn marks decorated the rest of his body.

  “Max?”

  His eyes fluttered open. They were sort of hazy, the look of a person not all there. Trey had been right about the painkillers, but that was fine by me. He needed as many as they'd give him.

  “Anna.” He smiled. “So you did come. I had a funny dream about you while the doctors were working on me.”

  “A dream?”

  “Yep. You came over to my place and we had the best sex ever. Then after, you turned into one of your chickens and flew away.”

  I joined him at his bedside. “I wonder what goes on in that head of yours sometimes.”

  “Not sure you'd want to know. The dirty things I think about would probably scare you.”

  Or turn me on like crazy, but I didn't say that. Now was definitely not the time to be thinking about getting laid.

  I gestured to his legs. “What in the world happened? It looks like you jumped off the roof of a building.”

  “I pretty much did. A tree fell on me, I wrecked my ATV, tumbled down a hill, then landed on a million pointy rocks three stories down.” He shifted his weight and winced. “Felt like an action movie hero though, so that was pretty cool in the end.”

  “You could have died.”

  “Hey, when you've broken both legs, got a concussion, plus stitches all over your body, a sense of humor helps.”

  On the TV, a commercial for some car dealership started playing way louder than the show before it. I found the remote and muted it.

  “Anyway, I'm alive, and that's what counts. The good news is that help arrived, and they were able to contain the fire, so I'm told. They're putting out the last bits of it now, and folks in the area will be extra vigilant from now on.”

  “Sounds like you're more worried about the fire than your own self.”

  He shrugged. “That's my job, y'know. To put the good of others above myself. If I can save a handful of lives, what's a couple of broken bones? They heal. Dead folks don't.”

  My resolve to stay away from him wavered. All this time, I thought of Max as little more than a rude jerk who strung girls along for his own entertainment. Now I saw he was more than that.

  Still an asshole, maybe, but brave. A man like him could keep me safe in more ways than one.

  “I'm kind of surprised you made it, actually. I heard the nurses say visiting hours ended a couple hours ago.”

  “Well...” I smiled with embarrassment and patted my stomach. “Family gets to come in whenever they like. So, I thought on the fly and told them I was your wife. I think the baby bump helped me look the part.”

  His jaw fell. “You did? That's quick thinking, but quite a gamble. I'm amazed they believed it. Anybody in this town who knows me knows I'd never get married.”

  My spirit sank, though I had no reason to be upset. Just like Trey said, Max was trouble. He'd be okay for a fling while he was here visiting – Lord knows I needed it. But beyond that? Heck no. That was just asking to have my heart stomped on.

  Somebody knocked, and a nurse came in humming softly to herself. Her eyes widened when she saw me by Max's side. Maybe I was just full of it, but she looked a bit jealous.

  “Oh, excuse me. I didn't mean to interrupt.” She shook my hand vigorously. “I just came to check on his IV, but this is good timing. You're his wife, right?”

  Max glanced at me and grinned. I could tell by that look he thought this was rather hilarious. Well, couldn't go back now, could I?

  “That's me.” My voice cracked. “Anna McLaren.”

  Why did I have to like the sound of our names together so much? That was just silly. Right?

  “The doctor will give you more details when Max is discharged in a few days.” She took his medical chart off the door and showed me. “But here's the gist of it. Although most of his other injuries are relatively minor, he took the full force of the fall by landing directly on his knees. The impact of that, as you can imagine, was quite devastating.”

  She flipped pages and let me see his x-rays, although I would rather not have seen his bones broken at that horrifying angle. I struggled not to dry heave and clamped a hand over my mouth.

  “His legs, as you can see, are going to be unusable for some time. Here, we have a compound fracture of the tibula in both legs. The right one was an open fracture, also.”

  “Open?”

  “The bone was protruding through the skin.”

  Oh, Lord. Why did I have to ask?

  Max, as he did, was taking this all in stride. He wore a goofy grin and kept shooting me the most suggestive winks while the nurse's back was turned. Just how much drugs did they dose him with?

  Mercifully, she turned pages. “He's going to be in these casts for at least six to eight weeks, depending on the progress of healing. Until then, obviously, he won't be able to stand, walk, or drive. He'll need –”

  “Whoa, whoa, wait a minute!” There was a new edge to his tone. His jaw clenched. “Six to eight weeks? No walking; no driving?”

  “Yes, sir. We're going to give you a wheelchair so you can get around. After several weeks, you might be able to use crutches. Then physical therapy will help you finish recovery.”

  His face fell as he gazed out the window. “I can't stay here for over two months. I live in Waco. How the hell am I supposed to make it home?”

  “That's right. You've got a job to get b
ack to, huh?”

  “I'm afraid he won't be fighting any fires like this.” The nurse interrupted us. “If you have proper transport – there are special vans designed for moving wheelchair-bound patients – you might consider asking if your employer has any desk work you can do.”

  I'd never seen him so crestfallen. The injury itself he could handle, it seemed. Bones poking through his skin was no big deal to him. But his career as a firefighter really meant something to him. What was he going to do without it?

  “Desk work,” he repeated. “No thanks.”

  “You have no other choice, unfortunately.” The nurse, I could tell , was running out of patience. “Moving on. You'll also need to modify your home to accommodate a wheelchair. Think ramps instead of stairs. Wider doorways, perhaps.”

  Max's eyes shifted from left to right, and he cracked his knuckles loudly. The poor guy looked like a caged animal desperately trying to find a way out – only there wasn't one.

  “I live in an RV right now, lady. How am I supposed to modify that?”

  She had no answer, of course. Not to mention him living in an RV probably made her suspicious of my marriage claim, but whatever. We had bigger problems right now.

  “Maybe you could rent one of those vans. That way, you could make it back home, so you wouldn't be stuck here.”

  He pondered my suggestion, then shook his head. “Yeah, but that won't work. My home in Waco is a second-story apartment. No elevator, no other way up.”

  The nurse sighed deeply. “Perhaps you should consider staying with a friend who has a more accessible residence.” She turned back to me. “He's going to need considerable care, too, since he isn't able to be fully mobile or independent. There will be things he can't reach on his own – the stove, for example. He may need help bathing.”

  Max growled and slammed his fist into the meal tray. It flipped off the bed and hit the hard floor with a loud clatter that silenced us all.

  “Help bathing? I'm not an invalid senior citizen who can't make it to the restroom on his own. I'm not even thirty yet.”

  Max's fury scared me, but the nurse remained calm. Guess she was used to dealing with outbursts like this all the time.