by Jo Davis
Amelia kept her cool, though Sean realized she was frightened. She positively identified Jesse as being the man who’d called himself George Sparks, and they thanked her, appearing very excited about this break in the case.
Sean went next, going through the whole saga again. Amazing how the more he related it, the more numb he became. Had to be shock or something. He would’ve been content to go his whole life without ever being involved in a homeland-terror case. Especially when he knew the man responsible.
God, he hoped the papers never got wind of this.
He shook hands with the agents.
“Don’t leave town,” Agent Westfall said. “We might need you again.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Agent. I want to see the end of this as much as you do. Trust me on that.”
“I believe you do,” he said. “Here’s my card. Call if Rose shows up, if you think of anything, or have any more trouble out of him.”
“I will. Thanks.”
After sticking the card in his wallet, he and Eve drove Amelia to Nashville Airport. The women hugged fiercely outside the security checkpoint, like they’d never see each other again. Both were teary-eyed and he figured the stress of parting so abruptly, and the reason why, was getting to them. Things would be better after Amelia was safe.
“Thanks for taking care of my mother,” Eve said once they were on their way again. “Mama means the world to me, and if anything happened to her, I’d be lost.”
“I understand the feeling. It was the same for me when I lost both my parents.” He squeezed her hand. “There’s no way I’d allow Jesse anywhere near her. I just wish you’d gone, too.”
“Really?” She arched a brow.
“Okay, the selfish part of me is glad you’re here. But it worries me, baby. If Jesse so much as looks at you cross-eyed, I’m putting you on the first plane.”
“You can try.”
“Stubborn woman.”
“Yep. And you’re a stubborn man.”
“This could make for some sizzling arguments in years to come.”
She beamed at that. “You still want to argue with me years from now?”
“Why not? Making up is fun.” He knew what she was getting at—the “years” part. “And yes, for decades.”
She snuggled into his side and he put his arm around her, held her close. Being with her was about as perfect it got. He couldn’t wait to see what the future held in store for them.
As soon as he figured out a way to rid his life of Jesse for good.
13
1991
“Connors! Jesse, no!” Sean screamed. But the man either didn’t hear or didn’t care.
He was going to shoot Connors in cold blood. One of their own.
Jesse raised his rifle as a startled Connors jerked his head in Jesse’s direction.
Sean raised his a split second after . . . and got his shot off first.
His armor-piercing bullet ripped through Jesse’s flak jacket with a sickening punch, sending the man backward. Darkness bloomed on his chest, his expression shocked as he fell.
Jesse hit the ground on his back and Sean lowered his rifle. Could only stand there, numb, as the fight raged around him. Could only watch his best friend bleed onto the desert sand. Eyes accusing.
“Oh, God. What have I done?”
“Saved my life, man!” Connors yelled. “Now get your ass down before we end up the same.”
But he couldn’t take cover and leave Jesse to bleed out. He had to believe the man had some good in him, still held on to some thread of the boy he’d known.
Crawling over to his friend, he hooked his arms under the man’s middle, and began to drag him to a waiting medic unit.
“Heard Chief Mitchell is retiring at the end of the year.”
“No shit? Damn, I hate to see the old fart go.”
“Yeah. Can’t say I blame him, though.”
Eve plucked a paper towel from the dispenser and began to dry her hands. Wasn’t like she was trying to eavesdrop on the two C-shift firefighters who were going off duty, but their deep voices carried from the hallway outside the women’s restroom.
“Gonna be interesting to see who falls in line for the promotions.”
“Heard through the grapevine that Tanner is up for battalion chief. That would rock.”
Eve smiled, dried her hands more slowly.
“Yeah, he deserves it. I mean, if he can just keep his dick in his pants.”
Her smile faded as she tossed the paper towel into the garbage.
“Word, man. Hasn’t he had enough bullshit without banging one of his own team?”
“Fuck, it ain’t his fault. I’d jump, too, if she wiggled that tight little mocha ass at me.”
“Guess you’re right. Still, I never figured Marshall for a slut. What kind of bitch puts her captain’s career on the block?”
No fucking way.
Eve’s temper exploded like gasoline and a blow-torch. Heedless of anything except her targets, she stormed to the door and yanked it open, taking in two very shocked male faces. Wyatt and Green. Catching them off guard with their figurative pants down made her inner bitch chortle with glee.
“First of all, my tight little mocha ass wouldn’t want your limp, shriveled excuse for an appendage if you dipped it in gold!” Wyatt blanched, stammering a response that wouldn’t quite emerge. A couple more firefighters paused in the hallway, observing from a safe distance. Ignoring the gawkers, she went for the kill. “Second, this slutty bitch would never do anything to put the captain’s career in jeopardy, and you need to give him some credit for being man enough to handle his personal life. And it is just that—personal.”
“I—I—that is, we—”
“Furthermore, I’m well aware of the department policy regarding relationships within the same station. Do you honestly think I enjoy being the subject of ridicule? Nobody plans to fall in love. It just happens.” Shit, that wasn’t what she meant to say—and she had no idea whether Sean’s feelings ran as deep. Swallowing the blunder, she went on.
“I didn’t plan to make our work environment uncomfortable for anyone, and I’m well aware I’m facing a transfer. Until then, I’d appreciate some understanding, and for our ‘family’ here to practice the same discretion I’m trying to use.”
“I . . . goddamn, I’m sorry, Marshall,” Wyatt muttered. “Was just talkin’ out my ass, ya know? Guy shit.”
Green nodded emphatically. “Same here. We’re not spreading anything outside the station, I swear. It’s just that we’ve got eyes, that’s all. Discreet as y’all are tryin’ to be, a guy would have to be a moron to miss what’s going on when you look at each other.”
“We just don’t want anyone to get hurt if you two are distracted. And I apologize for disrespecting you,” Wyatt finished sheepishly.
“Me, too.”
“Fine. Apology accepted.” She thought about apologizing for saying Wyatt’s dick was shriveled, but decided to let it go. As far as she was concerned, they were even. “You two have a problem with me from now on, say it to my face. Believe me, I’d have no qualms about stating mine to yours.”
“You got it,” Wyatt said, and Green chimed an agreement.
She left them standing there with their mouths hanging open and walked away as normally as possible. Wouldn’t do to appear desperate to find a corner to slink into and hide. In short, good acting was required.
Rounding the corner to cross through the kitchen, she ran right into her team, who were, to a man, staring at her wide-eyed, expressions varying from amused to worried. Sean leaned against the counter near the coffeepot, red flags on his cheeks, an emotion she couldn’t pinpoint in his gaze.
“Great,” she said sharply. “Since the gang’s all here, why don’t we just hunt this issue down and shoot it, hmm?”
“This isn’t our business, Eve,” Zack said. “Besides, you know we support you two one hundred percent, as long as you’re happy.” A round of agreements m
et his words.
“I appreciate the sentiment, and I love you guys for it. But as much as I hate being gossiped about like I’m the Whore of Babylon, Wyatt and Green have a valid point.” She held her hand up, cutting short the angry outbursts fueled by the C-shift firefighters’ disrespect. “If any of us screw up on the job, whether or not it’s related to me and Sean being involved, we’re opening our team to scrutiny, nasty rumors, and even lawsuits. Especially now that our relationship is out in the open and we can’t deny it.”
This sobered their friends and they fell silent, thinking.
She sighed. “I think the best solution is for me to transfer before the brass comes to me and slaps my wrist.”
“I disagree,” Julian said. “We all know Sean is on the promotions list. I say wait—why lose two good firefighters from our team when we might only have to lose one? Besides, even if the brass knows about you two, if they’re truly planning to move Sean up, they won’t say anything, because they’ll know he’s going to leave anyway.”
This met with approval from the gang, and Eve smiled despite the crappy start to their shift. “Have I told you all lately how much you mean to me?”
“Oh, God!” Clay cried in mock distress. “Tissue alert at twelve o’ clock! Let’s go, boys, before she has us all PMS-ing.”
They scattered, laughing, all except for Sean, who hadn’t moved. He watched them go, a content expression on his handsome face.
“Idiots,” he said fondly. “If I do get the promotion, I’m going to miss the hell out of this. The camaraderie, the sense of family. They’re the brothers I never had.”
“You’ll visit.” She was pretty sure he’d get the promotion. A lump formed in her throat.
“It won’t ever be quite the same, though.” He pushed from the counter. “Hey, no long faces, right? Nothing is ever a done deal.”
“Any of us would kill to be on that list. Don’t you want it?”
“Sure I do! I need a new challenge. If I don’t get the position and one of us has to leave, I’ll probably retire.”
“What?” Her mouth fell open. “You’re too young to retire! What would you do?”
He shrugged. “Open a business, or invest. Raise horses. Who knows? Doesn’t matter, because the most important thing is standing right in front of me.”
Her heart fluttered, and she let out a big sigh that she kept to herself. “That’s sweet, but you’d lose your retirement money. Your nest egg.”
His lips curved into a rueful smile that held a hint of melancholy. “No, that would be the money I inherited from my parents and Blair. As long as I’m smart about managing it, I’m pretty much set.”
“Oh.”
Jeez, how much money did he have? She’d love him even if he didn’t have a cent, but the man was a continual surprise. With that fabulous house and land, she’d known he couldn’t be destitute, but that didn’t necessarily mean a supply of ready cash. Her tongue burned with the need to ask how rich he was, but she refrained. With great difficulty.
She was only human, for cryin’ out loud.
On the heels of that thought, she was ashamed. Whatever his wealth, it was gained due to great personal loss. She vowed not to broach the subject unless he found it necessary for her to know.
“I’ve got some things to do in my office,” he said. “Do an inventory of the medical supplies on the ambulance, if you don’t mind.”
It really wasn’t a question, but an order. Ever the alpha.
“Got it.”
As she attended to the task, her mind drifted from challenges within the station to those without. Somehow, she’d have to find the courage to address one other issue that might not make him very happy. But they were a couple now, or so she believed, and they’d work through it. Together.
After a load of heartache and fear, the worst had to be behind them.
Eve straightened the living room, checked the chicken parmigiana in the oven, tossed the salad. Paced. She hadn’t seen Sean since they’d gotten off shift this morning, as they’d both had stuff to do.
They weren’t in each other’s pockets. Still had their own separate lives.
Yeah, that might change. Real soon.
A knock made her jump, and she looked before opening the door. And finding herself swept into a pair of muscular arms.
“Damn, what smells so good?”
“Chicken parmigiana.”
“Mmm, no, I think it’s you.” He kissed her soundly, then made a show of nuzzling her neck until she squirmed, laughing.
“Stop! It’s definitely the food, not me. Want some tea or soda?”
“If I can’t have you, then I suppose so.” His eyes twinkled with humor. “Soda, please.”
“And me later.”
His proximity did nothing to quell her nerves. She had no idea how to broach such a momentous topic, and nothing seemed quite right. Before dinner? During? How did a woman blurt out something that would alter a man’s life?
She fetched a can of Coke for him, pouring it over ice. Handed it to him and busied herself removing dinner from the oven and setting it on top of the stove.
“Here, let me get that.” Using the pot holders, he took the dish from her and put it on the table, which was already set.
Fetching the salad from the fridge and grabbing the bowl of spaghetti, she joined him and put the rest of the food on the table. She had to admit it smelled good. Too bad she was much too wigged-out to enjoy it.
“Eve? You’re awfully quiet.”
“Oh, just a lot on my mind. What did you do today?” she asked as they took their seats. Nothing like a diversion while she gathered her wits.
“Worked with Elvis and the girls for a while, then started on a landscaping project out front of the house. I’m making a planter around the big tree on the left side of the driveway.”
“That’s cool. I could help if you want.” She dished up his plate, keeping her hands busy.
“I’d like that. It’s fun working with plants, flowers, bricks, and wood, making the outdoors attractive. I’d forgotten how much I enjoy it.”
“I’m not surprised. You’ve always been an outdoorsy type as long as I’ve known you.”
They ate in silence for a few minutes, or at least she’d thought she was eating, until he laid a hand over hers.
“That chicken is dead, baby. Are you going to eat it or keep mutilating it?”
“Oh.” Crap. She’d picked her meal apart, hardly touching a bite. With a sigh, she put down her fork.
“What’s wrong? You always make me talk, so out with it,” he said gently.
His tone was encouraging and she took a deep breath. “I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow.”
“What’s wrong? You look fine.” His brows drew together in concern.
“With my ob-gyn.”
Concern slowly became understanding, and denial. “I don’t . . . you mean . . . you’re on the pill.”
“One of the condoms broke,” she reminded him. “And the pill isn’t always one hundred percent effective.”
“You said it would be safe. You . . .” Color slowly drained from his face. “I’m sure it will be negative. Nothing to worry about.”
Her heart plummeted. “So you want it to be negative?”
“We took precautions! This isn’t supposed to happen.” He pushed his chair back, running a hand through his hair.
“Tell that to the little pink line on the stick.”
“What? What!” Shoving out of his chair, he prowled the room, looking very much like a man awaiting execution. “How could you let this happen?” His voice rose, sounding more upset by the second.
“Hey, this wasn’t all me. It was your cock fucking me, wasn’t it?”
He didn’t even appear to have heard her. “God, I can’t do this.”
“You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want. He or she would be my baby.” Tears pricked her eyes, burning. She would not let them fall.
“How coul
d you do this to me?” he whispered, voice breaking. “I had two beautiful children and I lost them. I watched them burn. It was my fault. Mine.”
“No, it wasn’t! Sean, we can start a family together—”
His face morphed into a mask of fury. Agony. “You think I can just replace them?” He was shouting now. Losing it completely. “Like a broken glass or a lost puppy? My babies died, but it’s okay because I can make more? I wanted to die with them!”
She stood and took a step toward him, legs shaking, reaching out to him. “But you didn’t.” Her voice broke on a sob. “Sean, please—”
“No child will ever take their place! I didn’t deserve them. I can’t . . . can’t . . .”
Clutching his chest, he swayed on his feet.
Then he lunged for the table, grabbed his keys, and bolted. She screamed his name as she ran after him, but he didn’t stop, kept running. Jumped in his Tahoe. Squealed from the parking lot at a dangerous speed, barely missed a car turning into the complex.
She stared into the waning afternoon, numb. Heart-broken. Happiness had become a nightmare so fast her head spun. All the shouts he’d hurled replayed over and over. But the one she recalled the most was the one that eventually dried her tears.
I didn’t deserve them.
Guilt.
The more she recalled how he’d said the words, the more she heard the grief and reproach in them. Deep down, he felt guilty for moving on. He hadn’t dealt with the last of his grief, and until he did, they had no future.
His meltdown, she realized, had very little to do with her at all. Their relationship and possible pregnancy had been merely what brought his emotions to a head.
How long since he’d gone? About twenty minutes. She had to talk to him, make certain he was all right. A few calls to his cell phone and his house yielded no results. She left messages anyway, asking him to please call. Let her know he was all right.
She put their abandoned dinner away, scouring her brain. Where would he go?
She tried the station, but no one had seen him. Called Six-Pack and the other guys, though the lieutenant was the only one she told what was going on. Same deal—no one had seen or heard from him. Then Six-Pack called back, and gave her an idea, bless him.