Ride the Fire (21 page)

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 could 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.

“Eve? It’s me. Hate to say this, but try the cemetery.”

The blood drained from her face. “Howard, you don’t think he would try to hurt himself, do you? God, I’m losing my mind.”

“No, I don’t think so, but—shit, I’m picking you up and we’ll go together. I don’t want you going out there by yourself. Be there in fifteen.”

Before she could argue, he hung up. Truthfully, she was grateful for his coming to the rescue, especially when she didn’t know what she’d find. She didn’t think Sean would harm himself, either, but the cemetery was isolated, and with this Rose guy on the loose, going out there alone would be stupid.

Waiting for Six-Pack was the longest fifteen minutes of her life.

Please, let him be all right.

He needed to be where his babies were.

Before he realized where he was going, he pulled through the old iron gate. Drove the Tahoe over the rutted drive, down the grassy path worn with tire tracks. Past a sea of headstones. Loved ones. Waiting for someone to visit, to care.

Or maybe the living just needed to believe there was something left of their spirit.

At the end of one lane, he threw the truck into park and stumbled out. Wove through more stones, careful not to step on the graves. Bad luck to do that. God knew he didn’t need more.

At the end of the row, three neat granite stones rose from the trim lawn. Together, yet alone. Forlorn. Staggering to a stop, he stared at the words.

BELOVED WIFE.

BELOVED SON.

BELOVED DAUGHTER.

“Daddy, look at my collage! It’s for you. Do you like flowers?”

“Come on, Dad, math sucks. I’ll do better next time. Can’t you loosen up?”

“Daddy, where do babies come from?”

“Hey, Dad! I’m the starting quarterback tomorrow night! Woo! Can you come?”

Gone forever.
Forever.

“No,” he moaned. “No.”

A huge hot bubble expanded in his chest. Stretched his skin, expanding, tearing him apart. He’d stopped this feeling, numbed it with alcohol, many times before. But now there was no buffer for the grief consuming him. Swallowing him whole.

A sob escaped, and he sank to his knees in the grass. Doubled over clutching his chest. Tried, so hard, to keep the devastation locked away. As he always had.

“No,” he rasped. “No, no, no . . .”

Another sob ripped from his throat, and another. From the depths of his soul, turning him inside out. The pain was not to be believed. He couldn’t survive the onslaught. Didn’t want to.

The sobs were deep and harsh. He’d never cried like this before. The force of it shattered him, left him naked and defenseless. Pouring out his broken heart to God and whoever else would listen.

“Please, no. Don’t let it be true. It’s not true.”

But it was. He rocked, arms around his middle, tears dripping off his chin.

“Please, Bobby. I’m sorry. Mia. Baby, Daddy’s so sorry. Oh, God.”

Then a pair of slender arms wrapped around him. Someone there, kneeling with him, holding him tight.

“Sean, sweetheart. They know it wasn’t your fault, I swear.”

He knew her voice, her scent. Eve.

And he collapsed against her, clinging to his lifeline in the storm. His anchor. Her soothing words began to calm him, reach his stricken soul.

“It’s all right. They know, honey. Shh, I’m here. Howard, too. We’re here for you, always.”

She repeated them again and again, until his cries faded to hitching breaths. Until there was nothing but the two of them. The birds, the grass, the soft evening sounds in the waning light.

“They’re not here,” he whispered.

“I know. They’re in your heart, and that’s where they’ll always be.” She sniffed, holding him tighter.

Wetness soaked his neck, the collar of his shirt. She’d been crying, too, he realized. With him. Sharing his grief.

And he knew in that moment, for a complete certainty, that he loved her.

A few minutes ago, he could have sworn that white-hot ball of agony had blown a hole in his chest. Now, slowly, a golden glow, an incredible sense of peace, filled the hollow space. Time lost all meaning as they remained wrapped around each other. The glow encompassing them both in a tangible bond.

Finally, he pulled back enough to wipe his face, look into her eyes. “I’m so very sorry for the awful things I said to you. Can you forgive me?”

She gave him a watery smile, blue eyes shining. “I love you. There was never a question of forgiveness.”

He ran a finger down one beautiful cheek. “I love you, too. I have for a long time, and I just didn’t know it.”

“Oh, Sean.”

“What’s more, I’d be honored to be the father of our child, should that be the case.”

“You don’t have to say that if you’re not ready.”

“No, I am. I said before my family would’ve wanted me to be happy, but now it’s different. This time I
know
it.”

“I’m so glad for you. Us.”

“Don’t get me wrong. I will always miss my children, and missing them will hurt. But I can live my life now.” He placed a gentle kiss on her lips. “I want to live it with you.”

“I—I want that, too.” She hugged him again, fiercely. “Why don’t we go? I think Howard is about to wear a rut in the trail over there, worrying about you.”

“Sounds good.”

Pushing to his feet, he gave her a hand up and paused, his gaze roaming over the three headstones once more. He loved them all and always would, but he had to let go. Had to live. “Good-bye,” he said quietly.

Taking Eve’s hand, he led her from the lonely site. To where his best friend stood watching them approach, anxiety etched on his face. Sean walked up to him. Hesitated.

Then found himself wrapped in a tight bear hug, big fists gripping the shirt at his back.

“Scared the fuck out of me.” For Howard, that was strong language.

“Didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.”

“That was a long time coming, my friend.”

“Yes. And I’m okay now, really.”

His best friend pulled back and studied him, apparently judging for himself. “I think you might be right.”

“I am. I’m the luckiest man to have a second chance, and to have a friend like you.”

The big man released him and smiled. “I’m lucky, too. So, before we get too mushy, I’m going to head out, since it seems you’re in good hands.”

“Thanks, Howard. For picking up Eve, and coming for me.”

“Anytime.”

His friend gave Eve a quick hug, and started for his truck. Sean watched him leave, and then he and Eve made their way to his Tahoe at the end of the lane. Suddenly, he was exhausted.

“Stay with me tonight? Then we’ll go to your appointment tomorrow, together. Whatever the news, we’ll face it as a couple.”

“I’d like that.”

He took her by her apartment, where she packed a small bag, and then they were on their way to his place. As he pulled down the long driveway, he made a decision.

They would hunt for a place of their own. A haven to put their stamp on, together.

In his bedroom they stripped to the skin and slid into bed, spooning with her back to his front the way he loved. Reaching back, she stroked his hair. Soothing, comforting.

Loving.

He drifted into sleep, letting love surround him.

And work its healing magic.