Gunnar's Guardian

by Pandora Pine

  The pastry case was full. Great news for Mario’s, bad news for me. I got a dozen lobster tails, half a dozen apple fritters for Ozzy, glazed donuts, which were Hal’s favorite, a couple of sun-dried tomato bagels with vegetable cream cheese, and two thermoses of espresso. Lastly, I ordered fresh croissants, for breakfast tomorrow. After Gunnar accepted my apology, we were going to need fuel, that was for sure.

  I’d wanted to call Gunnar while I was on my way to the firehouse, but I held off. I wanted my arrival to be a surprise. While I drove, I thought about the way I would apologize, without making excuses, and beg for a second chance. I only hoped he would give me one.

  There was an odd stillness to the firehouse when I drove up. Not only were all five bay doors closed, the street was empty. In the middle of the summer, there should have been people everywhere, not to mention Gunnar shining the engines.

  I parked down the street, not wanting to be in the way if the siren wailed. Something told me that wasn’t going to happen. There was an odd calm all over the city today. My Spidey senses were tingling. Something wasn’t right.

  Certain I was just being ridiculous, I grabbed the pastries out of the truck and headed toward the side door. It wasn’t really a side door. It was on the front of the firehouse, but they’d always called it the side door. I still couldn’t figure out why the bay doors were closed. They were usually open all summer long unless there were storms coming in or it was after dark. So far as I knew there was no bad weather on the way.

  It didn’t matter. All I cared about right now was finding Gunnar and apologizing to within an inch of my life. I was about to grab the handle to the side door when a boom came from inside the firehouse. I would swear it was a gunshot. Why the fuck would someone be firing a gun in the firehouse? So far as I knew, there was only one gun on the property. Ozzy kept a shotgun in his office for emergencies. It was never loaded, just in there for a rainy day. I didn’t know if he even had shells for it. The only other thing that could make that kind of sound was a flare gun, but again, who the hell would be shooting off flares inside the building?

  Dropping the pastry, I duck-walked to the door. There were no other sounds coming from inside. Slowly I stood and looked in through the glass window. All I could see was one of the engines. I gave a slow pull on the handle and the door was locked. That door was never locked. Something very wrong was happening here.

  I moved back to my truck and called my captain to let him know what was going on at the firehouse. He told me to stay put while he got SWAT and other officers on scene.

  There was no way I was staying put. My brother and the man I loved were being held in the firehouse. I couldn’t stand idly by and wait for SWAT and the hostage negotiation team. Since I’d taken my personal vehicle, that meant I had no protective gear. My bulletproof vest was in the department SUV and my gun was locked in the safe in my bedroom. I had a knife in the glovebox, but that wasn’t going to get me anywhere. Not against someone who had a gun.

  The only thing I had with me was my phone. Without thinking it through, I dialed Gunnar, praying he would answer. It sounded loud in the cab of the truck. One ring, then two, then three. My heart was hammering after the fourth ring. It was so loud, I could barely hear the fifth.

  “Hello, lover boy!” an unfamiliar voice drawled.

  “I was trying to reach Gunnar. I must have the wrong number.” I knew I didn’t have the wrong number. This was Gunnar’s number but someone, probably the person holding the firehouse hostage had answered his phone.

  “Don’t play cute with me, Detective Lynch. I know damn well it’s you and if you were half the detective this city thinks you are, you’d know who this was too.”

  I took a deep breath and tried to fall back on my training. I needed to treat this situation like any other case. “You’re right, this is Kennedy.” Who the hell was this guy? It had to be someone who hated Ozzy or the fire station enough to do something like this. Motherfucker. I knew exactly who this was. “Dillon McMasters.”

  “Give the man a fucking prize.” Dillon laughed.

  “Where’s Gunnar?”

  “Ah, a true romantic to the last. If I were you though, I’d be more interested in hearing about your brother and that paramedic.”

  My heart stopped beating in my chest. Ozzy! What the hell had this guy done to my brother. “Okay, how’s Ozzy?”

  “I shot him in the chest. He’s bleeding all over the place. Looks like he’s in bad shape. Not that I’d know. I’m an accountant, not a paramedic. Speaking of the paramedic, I believe his troubles are over.” Dillon laughed again. It was high-pitched and made him sound as if he’d lost his mind.

  “Which paramedic? Hal? Are you talking about Hal Rossi?” Jesus Christ, Hal was the nicest man I knew. What the hell had this fucker done to him?

  “The one that was at my house that night. The one who stood by and refused to save my wife and daughters.”

  It was definitely Hal Rossi. All three of the McMasters women had been beyond saving when they were carried out of the burning house. Hal had checked their vital signs, but there hadn’t been a need to start CPR. I wasn’t about to tell Dillon that. “What about Gunnar?” I tried to keep my voice level but failed.

  “He’s fine, but he won’t be unless you get the fuck out of here! No cops! I’ve got to get down to business.”

  The last thing I needed was for him to hang up. “There aren’t any other cops here. It’s just me. I brought pastries for Gunnar and the rest of the guys. Who else is in there with you?”

  “The bitch paramedic and the firefighters who refused to save my family!” Dillon roared.

  Going back in my mind, I remembered Chasten Coyne had been there along with Ozzy, but I couldn’t remember anyone else. “Are they safe.”

  “For now. I’ll tell you what I’m going to do, hot shot. I’ll leave you on speaker phone so you can hear what’s going on. If SWAT tries to breach this building, the first bullet goes into Gunnar’s head. Got me?”

  I got him. Loud and clear. “I love you, Gunnar.” It was all I could think to say. When the chips were down and you might never speak to the man you loved again, all that mattered was how you felt.

  “Well, isn’t that sweet?” False joy dripped from every syllable. “What do you have to say to that Gunnar?”

  “I-I love you too, Kennedy.” His voice shook with fear.

  Dillon’s deranged laughter surrounded me. “This is better than I ever could have hoped for. I came here to kill everyone whose negligence killed my entire family. I never knew I would have the opportunity to return the favor. Say goodbye, Kennedy!”

  Before I could react, a shot rang out. Gasps followed. Then the line went dead.

  “Nooooo!” With numb hands, I tried the door handle. I needed to get out of this truck I needed to get to Gunnar. It might not be too late. “Gunnar!”

  My hand slipped off the handle. When I tried again, I was able to yank on it, but the door didn’t pop open. I felt like everything was slipping away. I was gripped in a wave of terror like I’d never known before. My panicked brain supposed this was what Dillon had felt the night of the fire.

  That thought gave me pause and just enough calm to realize the truck was locked. I pressed the button and was about to try the handle again when the cavalry arrived. The street was swarmed with police cruisers, no lights or sirens.

  Slipping my phone into my pocket, I climbed out of the truck praying that gunshot hadn’t murdered the love of my life.

  34

  Gunnar

  I felt the bullet whiz by my right cheek. That had been a near thing. With the marksmanship Dillon had showed earlier, I couldn’t help but think he’d missed on purpose. Now that he had me and Kennedy by the balls, he was no doubt going to toy with us like a cat with a mouse.

  The one thing I couldn’t afford to lose at the moment was my calm head. Everyone’s life could depend on what I did next. “Where did you learn to shoot?”

  Dillon twitc
hed. His eyes wore a look of shock. I guess he wasn’t expecting me to still have my wits about me. “My father was a cop. He used to take me to the gun range. It was our thing.”

  Yeah, Dillon had definitely missed me on purpose. “Is he still alive?”

  Dillon stiffened. “No, he’s been gone for six months. Cancer. He was always so damn proud of me and my girls. At least he got to meet…”

  At least he got to meet Bella, was what Dillon was going to say. I had no doubt. “I can’t imagine he’s very proud today.”

  Ozzy moaned weakly. I had a feeling he thought my words were going to get us all killed. I had a plan. I just wasn’t sure if it was a good one.

  “What?” The gun swung back to point at me.

  “The reason I was at the fire that night was because I’d asked Ozzy if I could do a ride along. I was thinking of maybe going to the fire academy or something. My father isn’t really in my life and I desperately wanted someone to be proud of me.”

  “What the fuck does that have to do with my father being proud of me?” Dillon’s gun hand shook, where it had been steady before.

  “Dillon, I can’t imagine a worse tragedy than what happened to your family. Having some asshole upend your entire life for his own pleasure has to be the most evil thing I’ve ever seen in my life. I’m so sorry the ladder truck couldn’t reach your family. I’m also sorry that Ozzy and Chasten couldn’t get to them in time. They did everything they could to save your family.”

  “Don’t you give me that line of bullshit!” Spittle flew from his lips as he screamed at me.

  “Ozzy suffered a third degree burn and Chasten ended up in the hospital with heat stroke. They put their lives on the line to save you and your family.”

  Dillon was silent, but the gun was still pointed at me. “Your father is holding your girls tight. Don’t make him watch you hurt anyone else. Don’t make your wife and daughters see what your grief has done to you.”

  “You all did this to me and now you’re paying for that.”

  “The only person who’s paying is you, Dillon.” As hard as it was, I tried not think about Ozzy being shot in the chest and Hal lying dead only a few feet away from me. “This is going to end at some point. You know that. SWAT is waiting for an opportunity to burst in here and take you out.”

  “Christ, kid,” Ozzy muttered.

  “Don’t give them that chance,” I pleaded. “Just put down the gun and we can end this without anyone else getting hurt.”

  “My life is over. I want them to kill me.” Desperation had replaced the rage in his eyes.

  “No, you don’t.” I gave my head a grave shake and took a step toward him. “I can see in your eyes how upset you are over what happened today. Don’t make one of those cops out there shoot you. They’ll never get over it.”

  “I can’t live without my girls.” I could sense Dillon’s resolve starting to crack.

  “Just hand me the gun.” I’d moved to only a step away from him. I could see the pain and fear warring in Dillon’s eyes. “It’s going to be okay, just hand me the gun.”

  A lone tear slid down his cheek. “I’m sorry,” Dillon whispered.

  “I know you are.” I reached out for the gun not knowing if he was going to hand it over or shoot me. To my relief, Dillon handed me the gun. “Thank you, Dillon, thank you so much.”

  Chasten was on his feet and moving toward the button to lift the bay doors. Maxine hurried over to Ozzy. More than anything, I wanted to run to Hal, but I stayed put knowing Kennedy and the SWAT team were going to race in at any moment.

  “Gunnar!” Kennedy roared. I could hear his pounding steps as he ran toward me.

  I backed up from Dillon, watching awestruck as members of the Gloucester PD swarmed him. Before he knew what was going on, he was face down on the concrete floor being handcuffed and read his rights.

  Kennedy stopped short of me. “I need you to put down the gun, sweetheart.” There was a tender look in his blue eyes.

  Christ, I didn’t realize I’d still been holding it. I set it on the floor and backed away. Kennedy grabbed me, pulling me into his arms. “I thought I’d lost you. When the shot rang out and the call disconnected, I…”

  “I’m fine.” All I wanted to do was hold him, but there were other concerns here. “Ozzy. Hal.” I could barely get the words out.

  Kennedy dashed toward his brother and the medics working on him. I could see there had been a sheet laid over Hal. It was too much. I sank to the floor and let my tears flow. I cried for Hal, the kindest friend I’d ever had. For Ozzy, who was fighting for his life. For Kennedy, who’d agonized over what happened to me and his brother. Maxine, Chasten, and the rest of the firehouse who’d been witness to the violence here today. Mandy and David, who might well lose a son before the day was over, and lastly for Dillon, who was undoubtedly going to spend the rest of his life paying for what he’d done today.

  It never occurred to me until much later the one person I hadn’t given any thought to was myself.

  EPILOGUE

  Kennedy

  Two months later…

  I finally had something to celebrate. It had been a long time coming, but good news was here at last.

  The last two months had been a series of individual days. It was the only way to get through the heartbreak of what happened at the firehouse. Hal Rossi had been the best of all of us. His death was a blow Firehouse Three would never get over.

  Thanks to blood donations from everyone from me to the mayor, and pure pigheadedness, Ozzy pulled through the surgery and his recovery. Hal’s funeral had been held back for several days so that Ozzy would be recovered enough to be there.

  The funeral had been the most tear-filled I’d ever been to in my life. Each eulogy had been sadder than the one before. Gunnar had been asked to speak and his words about Hal’s gift for kindness nearly broke me, but that was before Tim Jefferson, Hal’s best friend from childhood, got up to speak. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house. It was true, only the good die young.

  It had been hell trying to keep Ozzy from going back to the fire station. He was on medical leave and not able to work while he recovered from his gunshot wound, but there was this drive in him that pushed him to get back to his job. His family. He’d teamed up with Ella Gutierrez for physical therapy. The two of them pushed each other hard.

  Today was finally the day for my brother. Gunnar and I had spent the morning getting the firehouse ready for a party. We’d debated back and forth about having a party in a place where one person had died, and Ozzy had barely survived. It had been my parents who decided the matter for us.

  Mandy thought the only way to start the healing process was to make new memories at the firehouse. Welcoming Ozzy back was the first step.

  I worked on decorations while Gunnar cooked up a storm with my mother. It warmed my heart the way the two of them had taken to each other, especially in light of the way his parents treated him after the shooting.

  They never called Gunnar once. Of course, they’d done every media interview imaginable talking about how brave their son was and how they’d always known he was destined for greatness. Rumor had it the Princes were charging top dollar for these appearances, as if the two of them needed more money. I’d hoped they would donate that money to the Hal Rossi Fund or some other charitable organization like the Red Cross, but they’d kept every penny for themselves. I’m sure they would have called a press conference and had one of those giant checks made if they’d donated money.

  It had been a long road for Gunnar. Not only was he dealing with the death of a friend and the trauma from seeing it happen in front of his eyes, he also had to face the cold hard truth that he was essentially an orphan. Mandy and David had been there for him through everything.

  When it came to Dillon McMasters, he’d taken a plea deal, second degree murder with a sentence of thirty years to life. He’d wanted to spare the Rossi family the heartbreak of a trial. He and Gunnar had been exchanging lett
ers. It seemed some of Hal’s kindness had rubbed off on my Gunnar.

  “He’s here!” Chasten shouted, racing upstairs.

  Gunnar ran over to me, threading our hands together. “My stomach is full of butterflies.” He pressed a kiss to my cheek.

  “Mine too.” I meant it in more ways than one. Ozzy wasn’t the only one in for a surprise tonight. I had one of my own.

  My relationship with Gunnar had been the one thing that kept us both grounded. We’d managed to find a speed that was just right for the two of us. There were times where I spent the night holding him while he cried and others where he returned the favor.

  “SURPRISE!” Everyone chorused when Ozzy reached the top of the stairs.

  “Should you all really be shouting at a man who’s recovering from a gunshot wound?” Ozzy’s shit-eating grin glowed brighter than ever.

  “Surprise!” the room chorused in a whisper.

  “I can’t believe you all did this for me.” Ozzy made his way around the room passing out long hugs.

  “No one deserves a huge welcome back more than you, big brother.” I held Ozzy tight. I thought I’d gotten over giving my brother five-minute hugs, but apparently, I hadn’t.

  “Okay, boys, break it up.” Mandy pulled Ozzy away from me. “When the two of you would fight as kids, I could barely get you to hug each other, now you won’t let go.” Mandy hugged her son tight.

  “And here I was thinking I was the one with the surprise.” Ozzy’s smile lit up the room.

  “Christ, you’re not retiring, are you?” I snorted, hoping the rest of the room would laugh too. “I mean we went to all the trouble of throwing you this party.”

  “This is why I wanted a puppy instead of another brother.” Ozzy looked up at the ceiling as if he were praying for divine intervention.

  Mandy laughed politely behind her hand. “What’s the surprise?”

  Ozzy took a deep breath, his eyes had gone glassy. “I had a long talk last week with Bianca Rossi, Hal’s mother. The GoFundMe page we set up in Hal’s honor raised several million dollars. Once that Super Bowl MVP shared the link on his Twitter page, the donations poured in. Members of the other Boston sports teams chipped in and before we knew what was happening, the fund hit ten million dollars.”