Under Control (13 page)

As blackness pooled in his mind, his only thought was for the safety of his lovers.

»»•««

Gabriel shot a glance at the clock on the nightstand. Where the hell was Joey? He should have been home half an hour ago.

Pressing his lips into a firm line, he got out of bed. Jayla rolled into the spot he’d created and burrowed her face into his pillow. It was late, they were both tired. But without Joey here, Gabriel would never sleep.

He went into the bathroom and splashed some cold water on his face to wake up. His body was accustomed to physical depletion and he could function well for another few hours.

When he returned to the bedroom, Jayla met his gaze. “You’re worried,” she said.

He gave a single nod. “He’s never late.”

“Text him?”

“Yeah, I’ll do that.” He first checked his messages and didn’t find any. So he thumbed a text to his lover and waited for a reply.

And waited and waited.

A sick dread spread through him, that sixth sense that almost every firefighter he knew possessed. The one that had driven him beyond the wall of flames to find that unconscious child.

Reaching for his clothes, he said, “I’m going after him.”

“What if you pass him on the way?”

“I might. But at least he—or you—can shoot me a text to let me know he’s home.”

“Wait.” She slid out of bed and reached for her bra dangling off the edge of the nightstand. “I’m going with you.”

His urge to protect and shelter her was number one in his mind. But on the heels of that was the realization he wanted her with him.

“Maybe he’s just met an old friend and they’re talking,” she suggested as she trapped her round breasts in her bra.

“He would have texted. Jayla, I’d rather go alone.”

She went dead still, her eyes wide. While she wasn’t moving, she was trembling. Her long hair flowed over her shoulders and spine, and the red-dyed tips danced like flames against her paler skin.

“You think something’s wrong with Joey?” Her voice was hoarse.

He yanked his T-shirt over his head. “Dammit, I don’t know. It just feels wrong to me. I have to go look for him.”

“I’m coming,” she said with enough force that he might have smiled at her gumption if he weren’t so worried.

In seconds, he had his shoes and socks on. “I suppose I can’t talk you out of this.”

“Nope.” She shook her head, tossing wild waves of hair. She dressed quickly, and he went into the kitchen to scribble Joey a note in case he returned home to find them gone.

By the time he finished, Jayla was at the door, waiting. “Let’s go find our man.”

Despite his concern, he smiled at her words. Without Joey, they didn’t work. Losing a piece of the puzzle would make all of them incomplete.

Catching Jayla’s hand, he brought her knuckles to his lips. Her eyes widened as he brushed a kiss over her warm flesh. “Thank you for being here for me, sweetheart.”

She twisted her hand to cup his jaw, her eyes soft with a candle’s glow of…love? He swallowed against the lump in his throat.

“I don’t want to be anywhere else. Now let’s go. If Joey’s having a party, we’ll join him—naked.” She tossed Gabriel a sassy wink and walked out the door before him, leaving him to follow her swaying hips.

They drove the miles into the city in silence. Street lights glared on the inky pavement, freshly damp with a light rain. The bar where Joey worked was only a few blocks from East Street fire station. In early days of their relationship, Gabriel would walk down after his shift just to lay eyes on the beautiful man who’d won his affections from day one.

“Gabriel.” Jayla’s voice sounded odd, but her grip on his thigh alarmed him. “Look!”

He glanced up at the smoke curling into the sky.

His heart seized for a long, breathless moment. Then it flipped over and hammered his chest wall. “Call 911.” He haphazardly parked the truck, aware he needed to give room for East Street’s trucks. But Joey… if he was still in the bar, Gabriel had to find him.

Jumping from the truck, he took off at a dead run. Behind him, Jayla’s frantic phone call faded from his hearing as he rounded the corner of the bar and felt the door for heat. He didn’t feel any, so he tried the door.
Locked. Son of a bitch!

He could try the front but he knew damn well Joey always locked that after the last straggler left. He’d be wasting his time.

His muscles bunched. Raising his foot, he kicked the lock, using his body weight to push through the door. It didn’t give way on the first try, and a fever of terror rose in him.

Hitting the door again. And again before it exploded inward. Smoke curled out, but it wasn’t a big fire—yet. Ignoring the flames licking up one wall, he began searching. “Joe!”

No answer, so he called again, stomping through the kitchen, which was burning hotter, and into the main bar.

“Oh my God. Joe, where are you?” The smoke was starting to clog the air out here, and he coughed. Movement against the wall caught his attention, and he swung that direction. A strangled noise from behind told him that Jayla recognized her ex standing not ten feet away too.

“You bastard! You tried to kill me!” She rushed forward. Gabriel tried to stop her, but his foot hit something eerily soft and fleshy.

He glanced down and saw Joey’s unmoving form sprawled on the floor. “Fuck!” He dropped to his knees, the arsonist forgotten. Jayla’s footsteps drummed the floor as she darted for Blaine, who shot out the front.

“Jayla, no!” Gabriel started after her, but Joey groaned. Blood pooled under his head, and Gabriel hit his knees again, torn between going after the impulsive warrior woman or tending to his other lover’s wounds. Sirens sounded, and he knew East Street was on their way.

Gabriel eased his hand under Joey’s nape. “It’s okay, babe. Help is coming.”

He hoped to hell Jayla caught up with Blaine and somehow stopped him. After what he’d done to Joey… Gabriel shook himself. What was he thinking? She needed to steer clear of that dangerous man. Gabriel’s chest rumbled with a roar of frustration. If loving both of them tore him in two this way, how could he continue?

»»•««

Jayla’s lungs burned and her thigh muscles screamed as she sprinted down the sidewalk after Blaine. The son of a bitch wasn’t getting away with this. Trying to take her out was one thing, but when it came to the men she cared for, that was a whole other story.

Ahead, Blaine’s form was a streak in the darkness. The lack of street lights didn’t help when he swerved into an alley. Luckily, she’d seen the flash of movement and bolted after him. He ran faster. She increased her speed, dodging garbage cans and something disgusting she didn’t want to slip in.

If she could just keep him in her sight, eventually someone would be called to take up the chase, right? And hopefully soon, because her reserves were quickly being depleted. She pushed harder to try to bridge the gap between them.

Glaring holes into his back, she wondered how she’d ever been with a man like him. After having two
real
men, she understood her mistake.

His step faltered, and she gained a precious foot of distance on him. But he’d had a good head-start on her. With his long, powerful legs, Gabriel could have caught him half a block ago.

Her stomach bottomed out at the vision of Joey on the floor and Gabriel leaning over his lover, a look of pure terror on his face. She hadn’t given it a thought—taking after Blaine was her only course.

Breath hitching in her lungs, she tried to push through the stitch in her side. She was fit, but no marathon sprinter. Three city blocks was her limit. Or maybe it wasn’t. She had to keep him in her sights.

Or put him in view of someone who could help her. Her mind working as furiously as her pumping legs, she tried to find an out to her situation. Now that Blaine knew she was with Joey and Gabriel, they’d all be targeted. First he’d tried to take out the firehouse and now the bar?

No. He isn’t getting away with it.

Sirens pulsated in the air. The East Street team was on the road and headed their way. In fact, she might turn the corner and see the truck. Then maybe—just maybe—someone could help her take up this chase, because her legs were starting to feel like jelly.

She wanted to scream every terrible thing she knew about Blaine’s character at him, but she had no air. She ran. He ran faster.

The head of the next alley had a dim light at the end. When Blaine turned to sprint between the older brick buildings, she saw a flashing light reflected on the pavement. The shrill whistles made her eardrums vibrate. At least she had her hearing back a hundred percent after the bomb blast.

So close. If she could chase Blaine out onto the street so East Street saw him…

The man propelled himself toward the end of the alley, and she was a dozen steps behind when the ladder truck veered around the corner. Everything happened in slow motion.

The truck clipped Blaine’s side, and he flew like a ragdoll through the air. When his body struck the pavement with a sickening crunch, Jayla’s lungs stopped working. She came to an abrupt stop, barely able to avoid the truck as it swerved after hitting her ex.

Blaine’s leg was twisted grotesquely, but he lifted his head off the asphalt as if struggling to get up. Bile rushed up her throat, and she turned away from him.

Firemen swarmed out of the stopped truck and surrounded Blaine. When a hand clamped on her shoulder, she screamed before a pair of warm eyes loomed in front of her face.

“Jagger!” She collapsed against his chest, and he held her to his body, bulky with his gear.

“Who the hell is that?”

“The arsonist. My ex who tried to kill me.”

Suddenly, the focus shifted off herself and she remembered Gabriel and Joey back at the bar. Panic flooded her, and she gripped Jagger’s coat and shook him. “The bar! It’s on fire and you’re here. Go, Jagger!”

“We know. We’ll take care of it, Jayla. Just calm down, honey.” He took her by the arm and put her inside the ladder truck.

“I’ll stay back,” one of the firefighters yelled, waving them on. She crowded close to Jagger as several big men took up all the space in the truck. The few blocks back to the bar seemed to take forever even as she wondered at the short distance. When giving chase, the distance had seemed interminable.

“Stay here,” Jagger was saying.

She blinked, coming back to herself. How many times had she been in shock over the past few weeks? She was finished feeling this way. “No, I’m coming with you.” She jumped out and hit the ground running.

As she saw the man on the stretcher being carried to an ambulance, her heart shattered. “Joey!” Her shriek seemed to throb in time to the sirens still piercing the air.

Arms closed around her from behind. She was turned against a broad chest she was all too familiar with.

“Gabriel, thank God.” Tears rushed down her cheeks from the sheer relief of seeing him whole. “Joey—what’s happened to him? Will he be okay?”

Gabriel’s stare was solemn, but he gave a nod. “Blow to the head. Probable concussion. He’s lost some blood from it, but nothing major. And he knew who I was, so that’s a good sign he’s not too rattled.”

Her thighs trembled, and she clung to Gabriel. Her rock in this sea of uncertainty. He’d been there for her—both men had. She cradled his face in her hands and looked into his eyes.

“Gabe, I can’t leave you guys. If I try, I’ll be destroyed. It sounds insane, but—”

“Shh.” He pressed his forehead against hers, staring into her eyes up close. “I know. I feel the same. We don’t need to be apart. Are you okay?”

“Y-yes. But Blaine’s not.” The story poured out of her. Jagger approached and told Gabriel to get to the hospital with Joey.

Walking the short span to Gabriel’s truck sapped the last of Jayla’s energy. She slumped into the seat and didn’t even bother to buckle herself in. Sitting in the truck this way felt too odd. Normally she was illegally seated on one of the guy’s laps.

“This is all my fault. Joey wouldn’t be hurt if not for me.”

Gabriel’s gaze cut through her. “No. This is the work of a sick criminal. You stopped him, sweetheart. But…don’t ever do that again. We can’t lose you.”

“I-I think I have some evidence. I’ve been thinking about it for days.”

He stared at her.

“That bicycle parts list. Blaine doesn’t ride. He’s too lazy to walk a few blocks and will take a cab. I think those numbers might have some connection to the fires.” It felt good to get that off her chest and relaxed against the seat.

He gave a nod and placed a hand on her thigh. “I’ll take care of the notebook. I’ll take care of
you.
”

When his big hand curled around hers, she knew exactly where she belonged. Their care, passion, and love were what she’d been hoping to find in a relationship. Now she wasn’t letting go.

“Gabe.” Corey strode into the locker room and stared him down. “There’s a kitchen fire reported at 333 Grisholm Street.”

Gabriel started as the familiar address echoed through his brain. “Jesus!”

“Now, take it easy, man. You know East Street is too far away to be of much help to them. Are Jayla and Joey home right now?”

His brain stuttered, horror replacing any coherent thought. His house on fire? His loved ones at home? He pushed past Corey, but the man grabbed for his shoulder, swinging him back.

“Let me go, dammmit!”

“Let me drive, man.” Corey led the way to his personal vehicle. For ten excruciating minutes, they navigated the city streets and maneuvered into the suburbs. Once they reached the end of Grisholm Street, there wasn’t a fire crew in sight. Not a single tanker truck or flashing light.

“What the fuck?” He reached for the car door handle.

“Looks like a false alarm, Gabriel.”

Gabriel blinked at his friend, trying to wrap his brain around what was happening. “This is all a farce? To get me home?”

Corey did a chin-nod toward the house. “Go on. See if there’s a fire—or two—to put out.”

Adrenaline still pumping through his veins, Gabriel gave a nod of his own and climbed out of the vehicle. He was going to kill them. The few hundred steps to his front door seemed longer than ever, but by the time he threw it open, he’d recovered a bit.