Ride the Fire (3 page)

“I’ve got your ‘neutered’ hangin’ low, cowboy, and Grace has no complaints. Don’t you have an ‘off’ switch?”

“Jules finally has to put up with someone more annoying than he is,” Eve whispered in Sean’s ear, good-natured humor lacing her words. “Sweet, huh?”

Sean laughed, the sound not quite as alien as before. “True justice.”

No sooner had they finished their breakfast than the intercom emitted three loud tones and the computerized voice dispatched them to a traffic accident with a major injury out on I-49. Those calls were the worst in Sean’s opinion, the ones that made his blood run cold and threatened his sanity. The victims’ faces would haunt him for days, and now he had no buffer to place between himself and the nightmares.

They reached the scene to find a single car in a gully. The driver’s door was buckled inward just enough to prove impossible to open, a long scratch running down the side of the vehicle. An elderly gentleman sat slumped behind the wheel, unconscious and bleeding profusely from a long gash in his head.

The lieutenant and Zack brought out the Jaws of Life and went to work on the door, prying apart the stubborn metal. Moments later, Clay and Eve had the man stretched out on even ground, working feverishly to save him. The man’s face, the unmarred half, was parchment white. Slack. Shaking her head, Eve began CPR.

“Sideswiped,” an officer told Sean grimly. “Some bastard cut off the old guy, ran him right off the damn road, and didn’t stop to help.”

“Road rage?”

“Shapin’ up that way according to the witnesses. Helluva way to start the mornin’, if ya ask me.”

Sean nodded, unsure whether the cop was referring to them or the victim. He crossed his arms over his chest, watching the futile attempt to revive the man, who might have been in his eighties. Hard to tell.

Whoever he was, he didn’t make it.

Sean and his team stayed out of the way after that, using their vehicles to block the far right lane, routing traffic around the police and emergency vehicles so the officers could take photos, make reports. A mound of paperwork always followed a traffic death, particularly one now labeled a possible vehicular homicide.

Welcome back, Tanner. The day can only improve. Right?

He’d repeat that to himself over and over, until he believed it.

Sean swiveled his chair away from the computer screen and the report he’d been typing, gesturing her inside. “I’ve got several if it means putting off my paperwork. Come in.”

Eve closed the door behind her and sprawled in the chair across from his desk, all sleekly muscled limbs, like a cat. Strong enough to hold her own in a male-dominated profession, yet no less womanly. A combination Sean found intriguing. Sexy.

An observation he had no business making.

“Funny how most stuff is done online nowadays, but it’s still called paperwork,” she said, giving him a guarded smile. As though he might find an excuse to bark at her like he would’ve done a few short weeks ago.

He leaned back in his chair, linking his fingers over his flat stomach. “And it’s still a pain in the ass, too. How did we ever cope without computers and e-mail?”

A mischievous twinkle lit her blue eyes as she relaxed. “Some of us are too young to remember not having them.”

“Ouch! Third-degree burns on my first day back,” he joked. “And here I am, caught without my protective gear.”

“Just making sure you’re reinitiated properly.”

“Why do I get the feeling this is only the beginning?”

“Because it is. Don’t be fooled by the pancakes—they were merely an evil ploy to lull you into complacency.”

“Hmm. I’ll consider myself warned. So, what’s on your mind?”

Humor fading, she hesitated before getting to the point. “I want to clear the air between us once and for all, and to do that, I need to apologize.”

He stared at her in surprise. “What for?”

“For not being more supportive these past few months,” she said, guilt coloring her voice. She held his gaze, though, unflinching. “I’ve bucked you at every turn and even been a real bitch, at times in front of the others, when I
knew
I wasn’t helping the situation. For that, I’m deeply sorry.”

“You’re kidding, right? I was an unbearable, drunken, self-pitying son of a bitch, and you’re apologizing?” Pushing out of his chair, he stalked to the small window behind his desk and looked out at the view of the field beyond the parking lot where the guys sometimes played football. But he didn’t appreciate the scenery, as he hadn’t appreciated so many good things in his life when he’d had them.

“Yes, I am. You don’t kick someone when they’re down, especially when they’re no longer in control of their own actions, and that’s exactly what I did.”

He shook his head. “No, you didn’t. You had the best interests of this team at heart every single time we butted heads. You and the guys were afraid I’d do something to seriously fuck up and I did, so badly I can’t believe I still have a job, much less that I’m still alive. I understand that and I’m trying to make peace with what I’ve done.”

The words were horribly familiar, as though the movie reel of his life had rewound twenty years. They left him shaken.

He could never atone for what he’d cost Tommy, any more than he’d been able to atone for that other mistake so long ago. But he could try really hard to live a good life for the rest of his days—a life denied to so many he’d loved and lost.

A soft hand gripped his arm, and Eve’s sweet voice whispered next to his ear. “Everything is going to be okay, Sean. I believe in you.”

Startled, he turned to find her practically in his arms. Right where he wanted her to be, and damn him to hell for feeling this way. They stared into each other’s eyes, the moment stretching into a thin wire, supercharged, and he forgot where he was. His responsibilities, his reputation, his position as her captain. Gone, with the first brush of his lips against hers as his palm slid down her arm. Lost, with the need in her eyes and her beautiful face tilted up to his, her taut body pressed close, warm and safe.

Heaven.
Oh, God, it’s been so long. Need this, need you . . .

The cell phone on his desk shrilled a rude interruption and they sprang apart as though the fire chief himself had walked in unannounced. Off balance from his lapse in judgment, lips tingling in pleasure, Sean grabbed for the phone.

“Hello?”

A man’s voice responded, quiet and amused. “Did you ever ask yourself . . . what if it wasn’t an accident?”

Click.

A couple of heartbeats passed before Sean frowned and lowered the phone from his ear, his brain scrambling to assimilate the caller’s meaning. Weird. What could that possibly . . .

“Oh . . . oh, God, no.”

“Sean? Sean, what’s wrong?” Eve’s voice called to him from miles away.

And the phone slipped unnoticed from his frozen fingers. Clattered to the desktop.

“Talk to me!” Strong fingers wrapped around his upper arm, shook him.

Blinking, he gazed into Eve’s worried face and cleared his throat, suddenly gone dry. “Prank call. Had to be.”

“What did he say? Or was it a woman?”

His voice trembled, betraying his upset. “No, it was a man. He asked if I’d ever considered whether ‘it wasn’t an accident.’ Then he hung up.”

“What accident?” She frowned. “That wreck we worked earlier? Somebody sideswiped the guy and he was killed. Could that be what he was talking about?”

“I don’t know. That’s all he said. But I got the feeling it was meant to be more personal.” Leaning his rear against his desk, he ran a shaking hand through his hair and studied the floor.

“Why? Did you recognize his voice?”

“No, it was too low. And there was some background noise, like a radio or something. His tone was almost like a smirk, though. Like he was enjoying every second of jerking me around.” He raised his eyes to meet hers. “I have a feeling he was referring to the wreck that took my family.”

God, he’d said the words without falling to pieces. A first. But his chest still burned as though he’d been shot.

Eve gasped. “I can’t believe anyone would be so cruel! Who would do something so horrible, and just when you’re beginning to heal?”

He thought
heal
was a pretty strong word, but didn’t point it out. Considering the answer to her question, he gave a harsh laugh and spread his hands as though indicating the whole city. “Pick a contestant. There’s bound to be a couple of guys in the department who are less than thrilled to have me back. My actions killed Skyler’s career, remember?”

“Tommy is still your friend,” she said softly. “Everyone knows that.”

The kind reminder helped, but not much. “Yeah. Doesn’t mean everyone likes it, though.”

“True, but I can’t honestly think of anyone who’d go that far. Can you?”

The three loud call tones interrupted further speculation, for the time being. Sean almost breathed a sigh of relief, but experience had taught him better. A firefighter should never let his guard down, never take a call for granted as simple or easy.

And this one was anything but.

“A water rescue.” Eve groaned as she pushed out the door ahead of him, and broke into a jog. “Shit, we haven’t had one of those in ages.”

“Be glad I had Six-Pack take all of you through that drill on the Cumberland last week,” he said, hurrying after her into the bay. A quick check showed the others were already there, pulling on their gear, two of them hitching the rescue boats to the smaller red truck.

“Which you conveniently missed because you weren’t back at work yet.”

At her raised brow, he just shot her a grin and said, “I’ll pull the boat. You ride with me.”

Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth, but the order had surprised her into silence. As they prepared to leave, he couldn’t help but gloat a little. Catching Eve off guard wasn’t easy.

And for some reason, he looked forward to doing it a whole lot more in the future.

But not from Jesse. Into the stillness afterward, he muttered, “I think God’s a joke, asshole.”

Sean’s eyes widened, but he kept doing his push-ups. What the hell was his friend doing?

The drill sergeant apparently wanted to know the same thing. “Private Rose! Do you have something to say to me?”

Jesse leaped to stand at attention, and saluted. “Yes, sir! I said that God loves the U.S. Marines, sir!”

This prompted a few muffled snickers from the other recruits, but not from Sean. As the drill sergeant allowed his friend to fall back into place and resume his exercises, adding fifty more to everyone’s count, Sean frowned.

The comment, and Jesse’s lie, stayed with him for days.

Idiot! He’s not available now, either.

But that kiss! Oh, God. Her body still hummed from the press of his hard, muscled form against hers. The soft touch of his lips, his warmth, expression filled with raw need. A need she wanted nothing more than to satisfy.

Reality, however, was a bitch. Of course he had needs. What man wouldn’t on the heels of coming out of a two-year fog? It likely had less to do with her specifically and more to do with a man simply learning to walk among the living again.

Being his rebound fuck would tear her to pieces.

But someone else being his rebound fuck would kill her.

Despite her resolve, she sneaked a peek at his profile as he pulled out of the bay, following the quint. No one could call his a classically handsome face. His looks were rugged, some might say harsh and intimidating with that wide, unsmiling mouth and that bottle green gaze that could cut the strongest of men off at the knees. Dark brows arched over those amazing eyes, accenting what her mother would call a “Roman nose.” The beginnings of crow’s-feet crept toward temples liberally laced with silver in an otherwise dark brown head of short, silky hair barely covering his ears.

Taking each feature into account, she supposed Sean should’ve been an average-looking man.

Until he smiled.

Until he laughed, cracked a joke, or praised one of his team for a job well-done. Until he made you feel like the most special person in the universe, because while he was a hard-ass bastard much of the time, his approval meant that much more to those having earned it.

That strong, confident leader had been missing for far too long, and today he’d returned. Not quite whole, still battle-scarred and hurting, but on his way back. He was clean, sober, and determined.

That
man, she would follow into hell. What sort of asshole would want to ruin the progress he’d made?

“You’re giving me a complex.”

She blinked, feeling her cheeks heat at being caught. “Why?”

“You’re staring.” He shot her a sideways glance. “Do I have a pimple or something?”

“No, I was just thinking.”

“About?”

“How much progress you’ve made,” she said, opting for a simple explanation.

He was silent for a moment, the wail of their sirens piercing the quiet. His hands tightened on the wheel. “I really am trying. It’s harder than I ever imagined.”

The candid admission from this private man, not to mention the conversation in his office, surprised and pleased her. Few, except Six-Pack and his dad, Fire Chief Bentley Mitchell, were ever included in his inner circle of confidence. She hoped this meant he was offering the same to her—friendship, if nothing else.

“If you ever need anyone to talk to . . .” She shrugged and let the invite hang.

“Thanks, Eve. That means a lot to me.” Flashing her a quick smile, he squeezed her shoulder before turning his attention back to the road.

She did the same, staring at the trees whizzing by and trying not to get her hopes up too much. That made twice in one day that he’d touched her voluntarily—three if you counted the hug when he returned to duty this morning—something she couldn’t ever remember happening before outside of what was required for the job.

Didn’t necessarily mean a thing, though. Best to remember that.

As Sean started across the Cumberland bridge, Eve suppressed a shiver. They were almost on top of the spot where Zack, her best friend, had damn near lost his life on a call last winter. Since then, she hadn’t been able to cross without remembering that horrible day.

“Holy shit.” Sean pointed out her window. “There’s our problem. One of those looks like a tour boat.”

She followed his gesture and gasped, personal problems taking a backseat. “Oh, God. What a disaster.”

About fifty yards upriver, one of the tour boats with a blue canvas top was on fire and listing badly to one side. Some people were on board and some were in the water. No other boats had yet gone to their rescue, but that was no surprise. This end of the Cumberland was primarily commercial, not residential, which meant fewer personal watercraft.

Sean got on the radio and requested another engine company. “Christ, I hope we’re not pulling out bodies.”

“Me, too.”

Zack pulled the quint down the road leading to the Riverview Restaurant, which was precisely what the name implied. Next to the popular seafood place was a boat ramp where they could launch and get to the accident victims by the fastest route.

Once they reached the parking lot, the quint and the ambulance pulled out of the way and parked off to the side. The other four team members jumped out of their vehicles and jogged toward the ramp, while Sean whipped the truck around and backed the boats down the incline, into the water.

“Whoa, you’ve got it,” the lieutenant called to Sean, waving a hand. To the others, he yelled, “Let’s move it!”

The men grabbed the rubber boat and flipped it over, Zack and Clay climbing inside. The bottom of this boat had a slit for hauling up victims who were incapacitated and unable to climb the ladder of the larger boat.

Eve and Julian manned the larger boat, steering it toward a knot of victims who were treading water, faces panicked, teeth chattering from the cold. They helped several people aboard, who were sputtering about what had happened.

“Damned g-guy on the Jet Ski plowed right into us.”

“Didn’t mean to,” another said. “He fell off and the thing kept coming at us. He must not have had his safety rope attached to the kill switch.”

“Still makes it his fault.”

Eve eyed the scene as they drove people to the shore. If she wasn’t mistaken, these tour boats had a gas tank located in the center of the craft that was designed to prevent fire from breaking out. The fire must have spread from the Jet Ski’s impact.

Zack and Clay called that they had the other three victims aboard, including the driver of the Jet Ski and one unconscious woman. To their knowledge, that was everyone.

But not quite.

A cry sounded. That of a man. About forty yards out, a dark head bobbed, the figure desperately treading water. With the noise from the boats’ engines and the fire, people yelling, no one had noticed the guy, who was obviously injured and unable to get to safety. Before anyone could react, Sean stripped off his coat and ran. Dove into the water and swam for the man with strong, sure strokes.

As he reached the guy, placed him in a rescue hold, and began to swim back toward shore, Eve breathed a sigh of relief and began to interview victims about their injuries. Treated those with minor scrapes and bruises while the others dealt with the more serious cases. Station Two arrived to assist and provide transport for the unconscious woman.

Later, Eve yanked off her hat and wiped her face, exhausted. Her clothes were soaked, her feet freezing. She knew her buddies weren’t in better shape, and the race would be on for a hot shower. Thank God she didn’t have to share a bathroom facility with the guys, a perk not every man in the fire department was happy about regarding female firefighters. Her team was cool, though. She wouldn’t trade them for anything. Most days.

She turned to yell at Julian that he’d forgotten to hook the boat to the trailer and the words died in her throat.

Sean was crouched on the grass next to the dark-haired man he’d pulled from the water, speaking in soothing tones while tending a gash that ran from the man’s shoulder downward, across his chest.

“Relax, buddy. You’re gonna be okay.”

“I saw the guy on the ski, but I couldn’t swing the boat out of the way,” he said, voice breaking. “Oh, God. My passengers.”

Eve moved closer, noting that the boat captain’s head and face were bloodied as well. Probably concussed and in shock.

“They’re being taken care of. Don’t worry. What’s your name?” Sean asked as he worked.

“Huh?” Unfocused eyes searched Sean’s face.

“I’m Sean. What’s your name?”

“Oh. Uh, Andy.”

“You married, Andy? Kids?”

The man gave a lopsided smile. “Yeah. Me and Sandra have a little girl.”

Though Andy didn’t notice, Eve saw the way Sean’s smile tightened. Became forced. Every time he was reminded of his loss, the pain must have been unbearable.

“Cool. You’re gonna go for a ride to the hospital, where they’ll fix you up, and then you’ll get to go home with them. Sound good?”

“Can’t I go home now?”

“Not a good idea. You’ve got a concussion and this cut might need some stitches. Rest easy.”

A woman’s frantic voice called out. “Andy? Andy!” The lady and a little girl dashed across the parking lot toward Sean and the man. The girl, who was apparently the man’s daughter, bolted straight for him.

“Daddy!”

Andy sat up despite Sean’s order for him to lie still, enfolding his daughter in a careful hug. “Jenny, baby. Daddy’s a little dirty.” He groaned, releasing her and holding a hand to his head.

The woman crouched next to him. “Oh, honey,” she whispered. “Lie back down.”

As he did, Jenny pulled back, small face scrunched into a worried frown. “You’re bleeding! Mommy said you had a boat wreck.”

“Yeah, I did, sweetheart. But I’m going to get patched up and go home with you and Mommy, okay?” He looked up at his wife, who wiped tears off her cheeks and tried to smile at her husband.

Sean stared at the family with undisguised longing etched on his face, fathomless pain swimming in his green eyes.

“Your daddy is going to be fine,” Sean told Jenny in a soothing tone.

“Promith?” Two huge eyes filled with tears and her little chin trembled.

“Promise.” Sean snapped his fingers, face suddenly animated as he smiled at her. “Say, there’s someone I want you to meet. Can you wait here for a minute?”

“O-kay.”

Rooted to the spot, Eve watched him jog a few feet to the truck. She knew what he was after and her heart melted into a puddle at her feet as he leaned into the cab and fished around. When he emerged holding a small, fuzzy purple teddy bear, her larynx shrank to the size of a pinhole.

Flashing the little girl a brilliant smile, he hurried back to her and knelt, holding out the gift. “This is my friend Violet. She’s a little scared, too, and—”

“He.” The girl sniffled. “Violet’s a ‘he,’ I can tell.”

Sean’s lips quirked and he made a great show of peering into Violet’s fuzzy face. “Well, right you are! It’s a good thing for Violet that you came along, huh? He’s scared, too, and he needs a friend just like you. Can you give him a hug, make him feel better?”

“Yeah.” The girl held out her arms, took the bear, and held him close, a slow grin brightening her expression. “Hey, I think he’s better already!”

“I think he is, sweetheart,” Sean said hoarsely, glancing away as he pushed to his feet again.

Eve knew he was no longer referring to the bear.

Sandra touched Sean’s sleeve. “Thank you. For taking care of Andy, and for how you handled Jenny. Though thanks don’t seem nearly adequate.”

“Believe me, it’s more than enough.” Sean briefly patted her back in a gesture of comfort.

The ambulance from Station Two returned and the guys offered to transport Andy, an offer Sean gratefully accepted. Andy shook Sean’s hand as the stretcher was wheeled away, and Sandra herded Jenny toward their waiting car to follow the ambulance.

The little girl turned and waved at Sean, blew him a kiss. The captain sent her one in return and slowly lowered his hand to his side. Watched until the car was gone. Then he walked around to the driver’s side of the truck and braced his forearm above the window, resting his head on his sleeve. He didn’t move.

The lieutenant was talking to Captain Holliday and didn’t notice his best friend having a small crisis. Julian and Clay did, though, and made themselves real “busy” checking the boats and the trailer. Zack caught Eve’s gaze and jerked his head toward Sean, urging her to talk to him.

Wimps, all three of them.

Walking over to him, she laid a hand on his back. His shirt was soaked and she could feel the chill radiating off him even through the material. “You okay?”

“Christ, she looked so much like Mia.” Heaving a sigh, he straightened and turned, but didn’t meet her eyes. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t have to say you are if you’re not. This is me you’re talking to,” she said softly.

“I know.” He looked at her then, eyes sad. “Maybe I’m not, but I will be. That’s what matters, right? Tell me there’s an end in sight, Eve. ’Cause if there’s not, I can’t do this anymore. Not one more second.”

Oh, God. “There is, and you’re making it through. We’re all here for you and we’re not going to fucking let you quit when you’re so close,” she said, keeping her voice and expression stern. Sean needed that right now more than pretty words. “You quit. That’s the same as telling all your friends they can throw in the towel, too. Is that what you want?”

“Jesus, no.” He pushed his fingers through his damp hair.

“You told Jenny’s mom that the thanks you get for saving a life is enough. Did you mean that?”