Hell, Fire & Freedom (Fighting for Freedom)

by Callahan, Shannon

  “Well, we had better go open up. Happy birthday again!” Wren says, sauntering out to the storefront.

  We start the day out great—work is busy, and the customers are in a great mood. I love Fridays. I’m waiting on a cute little blonde woman when a florist walks in with a giant bouquet of roses. I mentally cringe. There’s no flower I dislike more than a red rose. Sure, it’s a beautiful flower, but I just feel like it’s so cliché. I hand the customer her latte and scone before the florist approaches me.

  “Brynn?” he asks.

  “Yes?” I answer skeptically.

  “These are for you. Could I get you to sign here?”

  “Sure,” I say feeling a little disappointed. Yes, I thought Blaze didn’t know about my birthday, but Marie must have told him the other night. I remember the first time Blaze bought me flowers, and they certainly weren’t roses. I believe he even said something about me being as rare and exotic as the flowers in the bouquet. I guess he doesn’t think so now. It’s the thought that counts, though, right? Even if little thought does go into choosing roses.

  I sign for the flowers as Wren, “Oohs and ahhs.”

  “Thanks,” I say to the florist.

  “Go take your break! I’m sure lover boy will be in soon to see you anyway,” Wren says slyly.

  I grab the bouquet of a dozen red roses and walk back to the staff room. I open the envelope with my name written across the front.

  Brynn,

  Happy Birthday, Darling. Don’t think I would ever forget about you.

  xo

  I immediately drop the bouquet as if it’s filled with poison, letting out an ear piercing scream of absolute terror. He’s found me. Carl has found me. He knows where I work.

  “Marie!” I shriek, running to grab my cell phone from my pocket. I don’t make it a single step, though, before massive arms are wrapped around me from behind. I shriek again in horror.

  “Shh, beautiful, calm down. It’s just me, babe. You’re all right, you’re all right,” Blaze says softly into my ear.

  “Marie, Marie, get Marie,” I sob.

  “I’ll go get her,” I hear from the door. It’s Stella.

  “Walker Street High School, Marie Vincent,” Blaze replies, letting go of my waist to pick up the card I had thrown on the floor. I watch as his face is overcome with anger.

  “Take her straight to the police station, Stella, and we’ll meet you there,” he spits out.

  “I can’t leave,” I tell Blaze. “I’m supposed to be working.”

  “Girl, get out of here. I’ll call Tasha in on my way to the school, now let’s both get going,” she says, panic in her voice.

  “Thank you,” I manage to choke out through my tears. Please, dear God, let Marie be okay. Blaze is clearly quicker on his feet than I am. I look over and he has his phone to his ear.

  “No, I want you to take Marie Vincent to your office, lock the door, and do not let her out of your sight until Stella Morris comes to collect her,” he orders.

  “No, do not put the school on lock down. Nobody is in danger besides her. Do not embarrass her!” he orders and flips his cell phone shut.

  “She’s there, and she’s safe, beautiful. It’s going to be all right,” Blaze says as he sweeps me up into his arms.

  “How did he find me?” I cry into his shoulder.

  “I don’t know, baby, but I promise you, I will find out,” he vows.

  “I can’t go out there like this,” I say, gesturing to my tear stained face.

  “You don’t have to, baby. I’ll take you out the back door. I’ve got my bike here. I was going to surprise you after work,” he says, a little disappointed.

  “I’m so sorry Blaze …”I start to apologize.

  “Don’t you even try,” he warns, carrying me through the back door.

  “How did you get here so fast?”

  “I was out front in the line-up when I heard you scream. Now just relax. We’re almost there,” he says as he carries me around to the front of the store, setting me down so that I’m sitting sideways on his bike seat.

  He pulls a helmet off the handle and places it on my head, strapping me in before swinging one of my legs over to the other side of the bike. He climbs on in front of me, and the engine roars to life.

  “Hold on tight,” he orders.

  I do as he tells me and wrap my arms around his abdomen. Unfortunately, in my gloomy state, I’m unable to enjoy his abdominal muscles. I close my eyes and rest my head on his back, letting the tears flow freely. Carl has found me, and now Marie and I are going to have to leave again.

  I’m going to have to leave Blaze.

  That simple statement shatters my heart into a million pieces, and I start to cry even harder. This isn’t fair. I’ve done everything I could to keep us safe since we’ve moved here. How did he find us?

  We stop in the parking lot beside the local police station where Marie and Stella are already waiting. I jump off the bike, and run to Marie, wrapping her in a full body hug. I completely forget I’m still wearing the helmet until I sort of knock her in the head with it. She lets out a small cry.

  “Oh my God, Marie, I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m so sorry,” I say ripping the helmet from my head and tossing it to the ground. I feel my knees give out as I start to collapse to the ground. Before I can make contact, though, I feel Blaze’s strong arms wrap around me again. I feel as if a giant piano is sitting on my chest, and I can’t breathe. All I can feel is Carl’s hands on me, and I start thrashing wildly trying to escape.

  “We need to calm her down,” I hear Stella say sympathetically.

  “No shit,” I hear Blaze say in a not so kind voice. He pulls me up and throws me over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold, carrying me into the police station. I watch his ass as we walk in, but only because it was already in my line of vision. I feel absolutely nothing at all. That’s how numb I am. I work on trying to breathe and manually send the signal to my brain to draw in a breath every once in a while.

  Stella and Marie follow in behind me, and Blaze sets me down on a couch in front of the reception desk.

  “You okay, babe?” he asks. I nod my head. Marie and Stella sit down beside me, and Stella begins rubbing my back.

  “Where the fuck is that greasy bastard?” Blaze hollers at the receptionist working the front desk. I want to go wrap my arms around him and tell him to stop yelling, that it’s not their fault, but I’m too emotionally and physically drained at this point. For the second time this year, my life has been turned completely upside down. The first time for the better, escaping Carl led to my freedom and also to Marie and Blaze. This time, though, I’d be leaving everything behind aside from Marie, and the thought rips my heart in two.

  “Who?” I hear the front desk receptionist ask as another officer approaches.

  “Blaze, buddy, I’m going to have to ask that you calm down. How about you come back in my office, and we’ll have a chat?” the uniformed officer asks calmly, clearly trying to diffuse the situation. The officer stands about three inches shorter than Blaze, weighs about fifty pounds less, and is at least ten years older. At least he has a gun.

  “Yeah, let’s do that,” Blaze says harshly.

  I muster up a little strength and ask Stella to stay with Marie. I follow behind Blaze and the officer quietly. They enter the office first, and I slip in before he can close the door.

  “Brynn, go wait in the hallway,” Blaze clips. I can’t stand to see him in this mood, and I really can’t stand to hear him talk to me this way.

  “Lose the attitude, Blaze. I’m not going anywhere. This is about me, and there’s no way I’m leaving,” I say defensively.

  Blaze growls and yells out a “fuck” before starting to calm himself down. The officer takes a seat behind his desk, and I take one of the two in front of it, staring at Blaze until he takes the other.

  “I’m Officer Hambly,” the police officer says, running his hand over his bald head. “What can I do for you today?�
��

  “My ex,” I croak, trying desperately to find my voice.

  “Beautiful, don’t bother,” I hear Blaze say. I start to get upset, but before I can mutter another word, he speaks again, “I’m so sorry for what I’m about to say, and I wish you didn’t have to hear this.”

  I feel my insides tighten in knots and place my knees up on the chair, wrapping my arms around them, like somehow it’s going to protect me. I wait for Blaze to continue, but he just stares at me expectantly, as if waiting for approval. I nod my head in response.

  “Hambly,” Blaze starts, turning back to the officer. “How many years have I known you?” he asks, and I wonder where the hell this is going.

  Hambly seems to think for a minute before answering, “Probably about eight. We’ve at least been working nine-one-one calls together for that long.”

  “Can I trust you, Hambly, and I mean really fucking trust you?” he asks.

  “Of course,” Hambly says, offended.

  “Are you a fucking dirty cop, too?” Blaze spits out.

  “What the fuck are you talking about, Prescott?” Hambly says, gripping the edge of his desk. He looks as though he’s going to jump over and take a swing at Blaze for even suggesting it.

  “You’ve got a cocksucking-dirty-rat-bastard in this precinct that could have just had my girls fucking killed,” Blaze seethes. What the hell is he talking about? Rat? And wait a minute, did he just call Marie and me his girls? My heart swells for a brief moment before remembering the circumstances under which he’s saying it.

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” Hambly spits back, his face turning red.

  “Flynn,” is all Blaze says, and Hambly’s eyes flash in recognition.

  “You better start explaining,” Hambly bites out.

  “This is Brynn Vincent, and her sister out there is Marie Vincent. Brynn was once a Langley. Married to Carl Langley in Oregon. Real fucking piece of work that douche bag is. Made her his own personal punching bag for five years,” Blaze says angrily, glancing my way.

  “What’s this have to do with Flynn?” Hambly clips.

  “Just fucking listen to me. Brynn and Marie take off on Carl, move quietly to New York. They went to the Cynthia McNeil Women’s Shelter when they got here. A support worker there helped them change their names, file for divorce, and even helped her file charges, which they did at this precinct.”

  “Blaze, Flynn doesn’t handle our cases for the shelter. Fitzpatrick does,” Hambly answers.

  “Would you just fucking listen to me for one minute,” Blaze says heatedly, standing and pacing the room. “Brynn came to our police versus firemen football game, remember that?”

  “I do. I remember you started beating the living shit out of Flynn,” Hambly recalls.

  “That fucking douche bag, I always knew something was off about him. He saw me there with Brynn, recognized her from when she was in giving her statement. He told me he wrote it out himself. He called me a few days after the game and told me that if I didn’t fork over two million, he’d tell Carl where they were, where they lived, where they worked, and that he’d even help make sure Brynn’s case never saw trial. Fucking blackmailing piece of fucking scum,” Blaze says, now shaking in anger.

  I don’t say a word. I can’t. I’m momentarily stunned as I remember a conversation Blaze had on the phone in my bedroom. Two million …

  “What the fuck are you talking about Blaze? Tell me you didn’t do it,” Hambly says angrily.

  “Of course I fucking did it. I didn’t know how many rats there were. The whole fucking precinct could have been in on it. Might still be, for all I know. He knew what I was worth when my dad died, and he fucking went for it.”

  “Blaze,” I start, wondering what the hell I’m supposed to be saying to all of this. Why the hell did he do this for Marie and me?

  “Long story short,” Blaze says, ignoring me, “I gave it to him, and he promised to keep his dirty gullet fucking closed. Wasn’t enough for the prick, though. He called me up Tuesday, telling me he wanted another two million. I said fuck you. My mistake, I guess, because I get another call from him this morning telling me to ask Brynn what happened to her on her trip home to visit her mom,” Blaze says, looking at me suspiciously. I shrink down in my seat, feeling like I’d rather die than be here in this room right now. “I head over to her work to ask her and find her screaming her fucking head off. Guess who sent her flowers to work? Carl didn’t even know what fucking state she was in, and Flynn gave that psychopath everything.”

  I look over at Blaze, the back of his shirt now covered in sweat, and he’s absolutely fuming.

  “Fuck!” Hambly yells. “Tell me you’re making this shit up!”

  “Do I look like Doctor Fucking Seuss?” Blaze retorts.

  I can’t help the giggle that rises from my throat.

  “What the fuck, Brynn?” Blaze shouts, confused.

  “Sorry, just nervous. I laugh when I’m nervous. Plus, I love Dr. Seuss,” I admit, embarrassed.

  “What happened when you want to see your ma, Brynn?” Blaze asks.

  “Nothing,” I say in a small voice, unwilling to talk about it, especially in front of Officer Hambly.

  “Last chance, Brynn. What happened in Oregon?” he asks, “Marie’s life could depend on it,” he says, and isn’t that a kick in the balls. Well, figuratively speaking anyway.

  “He attacked me,” I say quietly.

  “WHAT!” Blaze growls angrily.

  “Carl was in the washroom when I went in, he attacked me and then threatened me,” I explain, tears now forming in my eyes as I recall what happened.

  “Why the hell didn’t you call the police, and why didn’t you tell me? Do you know how incredibly stupid that was?” Blaze yells.

  I tuck my head in between my knees and start to cry. I’ve never seen this side of Blaze and especially not directed toward me.

  “Christ,” Blaze says, running his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry, Brynn. I am. I’m not yelling at you. I’m just pissed off at myself, so I’m yelling in general,” he confesses.

  I look up at him, confused. “Why are you mad at yourself?” I ask.

  “Because I didn’t give him more money. If I had just done it, he wouldn’t know where you are right now,” Blaze admits, looking completely devastated. “Carl showing up at the hospital, though, happened after I gave that prick the first two million. That should have never happened. I should have sent someone with you, too. I have hundreds of guys at my disposal and it didn’t even fucking occur to me. What kind of man am I?”

  “Are you kidding me? I don’t even know how you did it the first time, but Blaze, if you had asked me, I would have said no. Marie and I can move on, just like we have to do anyway. I’ll find somewhere to keep us safe,” I say, wondering if that’s actually true. Does such a place exist?

  “That’s the issue right there, Brynn. I’d give up everything to make you stay,” he says, stroking my cheek. “I was being a selfish bastard, and I didn’t want to give any more of my dad’s money to that rat, but I should have. It’s a possession, not a person, and I know my dad would be pissed at me, too, right now. He would have given anything up to have my mom back,” Blaze says with a look that breaks my heart.

  “Blaze …” is all I can manage to get out, but I can’t find the words to calm him, so I stand up, grabbing a hold of his arms and pulling him down to my lips. I press into them, making sure he feels how much I need him, how much I trust him, and most of all, how much I care about him. He puts his hand on the back of my head and draws me closer, deepening the kiss. I let a small moan escape the back of my throat.

  That’s when we’re interrupted by Officer Hambly clearing his throat uncomfortably. Shit, I completely forgot he was there. I really love the few moments where Blaze can make me forget about everything bad happening around me and just think of only him and me.

  “How certain are you it was Officer Flynn who was blackmailing you?�
� Officer Hambly asks.

  “I met the fucker in person and handed off two million in unmarked hundred dollar bills. Get a search warrant, and I bet you’ll find the dumb fucker either deposited it, or has it stashed in his house. Pull his phone records, and I bet you’ll also find he’s been in contact with Carl Langley,” Blaze orders.

  Hambly picks up his phone. “Yeah, Ashley? Get me an appointment with Judge Harper. I’m going to need a search warrant STAT,” he says. “Yeah, thanks,” he mumbles before hanging up.

  “What about Carl? He attacked her in a public hospital, not to mention he made contact with her today, even though there is a restraining order against him,” Blaze says irritably.

  “I’ll look into that, too,” Hambly promises.

  “Get on it. I want both those fuckers behind bars, or I’ll take care of this myself,” Blaze threatens.

  “Blaze, listen, I get that you’re pissed, but you need to calm down. You go out there throwing names around, and this case is going to get fucked up. He’s one of our own, and those boys aren’t going to take too kindly to that without any proof. Keep it quiet, and I’m giving you my word, I will personally handle this,” Hambly says with a serious expression on his face.

  “See that you do,” Blaze says, shaking his hand. “Let’s go.” Blaze leads me out of the office. We walk back to the front of the police station where Stella is sitting beside a terrified looking Marie.

  “Mind taking her back to my place?” Blaze asks Stella.

  “No prob …” Stella starts, but I cut her off.

  “Your place?” I ask.

  “Yeah, babe, safer. You’re moving in with me until this shit is sorted.”

  “No,” I say, standing my ground.

  “What do you mean no?” he asks, surprised.

  “I mean, no, I’m not moving in with you. I have a perfectly safe condo that takes two security doors to get through, I have a lock and a deadbolt, and I’m on the third floor. I’m perfectly safe in my apartment, and that’s where I plan on being,” I say, now getting pissed. I hate being told what to do.