Who I Am With You (34 page)

R
acing towards a fire, Duncan squinted his eyes against yet another blinding headache. His withdrawal symptoms were lessening. No more bouts in front of the toilet, but the aches and pains remained. His heart fluttered from time to time, skipping beats and causing him to pause and catch his breath. What scared him most was wondering if it was pill related or Ground Zero related. Wouldn’t it be just his luck? At a great place in his life only to be hit with cancer?

“Do we need to bring anything tomorrow night?” he asked Frank, replacing his morbid worries.

“Are you a ‘we’ again already?” Frank asked with a grin. He was having a barbecue the next night and somehow, Leslie had agreed to go with Duncan. It’d be their first public appearance together. Other than the make-out session they had at Bill’s party.

“Leslie and I are working on things. We’re on the road to being a ‘we’.”

“Good for you, man.” Frank paused. “Would it be tacky to ask Olivia to bake me some goodies? I mean, I don’t have to choose sides in the break up, do I?”

“There are no sides. Olivia and I are going to stay friends. Go ahead and give her a call. I’m sure she’d love to do it.”

Alex looked pointedly at Frank’s stomach. “Not sure you need to be indulging in that many treats.”

“This,” he patted his pouch, “is all muscle. You’re just jealous, meathead.”

“The only muscle you have is in your ass,” Duncan tossed out. “And you do know her stuff is vegan and organic, right?”

Frank’s smirk fell. “What do you mean? Vegan, as in vegetable? But her cupcakes have frosting.”

“As in healthy and without eggs, gluten, processed chemicals or any animal by-products,” Alex told him.

For a few seconds, Frank regarded Duncan and Alex, giving them a thorough stare. Then he burst into a raucous laugh. “Nice try. You guys almost had me. Nothing good for you tastes that delicious.”

Duncan shared a shrug with Alex.

“Shit,” Captain Blankard swore from the front seat of the rig.

“What’s up, Cap?” Frank called out.

The older man turned with a grim look, the gaze landing squarely on Duncan. “We’re headed to a vacant building owned by VDB Enterprises.”

“Damn,” Alex swore. “Probably that damn arsonist again.”

“Hopefully we catch the bastard,” Frank added.

Duncan didn’t contribute. He turned his attention to the neighborhood. No way. They were only two blocks from Olivia’s building, the one she was opening her shop in. As far as he knew, it was the only VDB property in Midtown. A hard rock settled in his gut, knowing how fiercely protective she was of the structure and how many dreams she had of her place. His heart broke for her.

Especially when the rig slammed to a halt out front.

The building was a goner. Fire attacked the heart of it and the structural integrity wouldn’t hold out much longer. One of their main priorities had to be protecting the surrounding structures and clean up.

The hair on the back of his neck pricked as he exited the truck. Rarely did he consider a fire personal, but this one was. For Olivia. Damn shame, too. Duncan recognized the potential here, like she did, the cute bakery that might have been.

A commotion to his right caught his attention to where the police were questioning a frantic man. Curiosity drew him over as the rest of the crew prepared. The guy, a kid with droopy pants who looked like he belonged in a rap video, noticed Duncan.

“It’s about damn time. I been tellin’ these idiots there are people inside!”

Duncan shot a glance at the nearest officer. “Has this been confirmed?”

“There’s no one in the window he claims to have seen her in, but the glass does appear to have been broken from the inside.”

Ice invaded every part of Duncan’s body. “Her?”

“Yeah, man,” the witness answered. “Some hottie. Found this on the sidewalk.”

A shattered phone with a pink case entered his line of sight and everything around him spun. Olivia.

Never before had he felt such terror when running into a burning building. He went straight for the stairs, encountering a heavy cloud of smoke. Not bothering with his mask or helmet, which he then realized was still on the rig, he pushed on. The only thing his mind focused on was Olivia; her smile, her eyes, the precious life beating in her chest. All of it was threatened. They might not be together any more, but that didn’t erase the fact he cared for her.

The second floor was an inferno. A thick, boiling orange wall of flame blocked the hallway. He held up an arm to shield his face from the intense heat. Already the walls were blackened and destroyed.

“Olivia!” he shouted.

His words were cut off by coughs as the smoke poured into his lungs and held on tight. Duncan cursed himself for being rash and not grabbing his oxygen tank. She might need it. He cursed loudly. There wasn’t time to search for her where she wasn’t.

“Olivia!”

Nothing came back but the deafening roar of the fire. The voices of his crew squawked through his radio, but he ignored them. He wasn’t leaving.

Then a single phrase poked through his determination.

“McMurray, get your ass out now. The entire building is unstable,” the captain ordered.

Impatient, he jabbed the receiver. “Not until I find her.”

“We’ve been trying to tell you. She’s on the top floor, rear apartment. That’s where she was last seen. Frank and the guys are coming.”

He almost told Blankard to not let the men come, but they wouldn’t listen. Olivia was his, or had been, which meant she was family. His mind ran through worse case scenarios as he returned to the staircase. In just the few minutes he’d been away, the fire escalated there as well. He was wasting too much damn time.

Leaping through the growing flames, he fought against despair as hot, angry arms reached out for him. His boot crashed through a weakened step and he yanked it free in time to duck as a large piece of debris crashed down, nearly trapping him. The stairs were not going to be there on the way back. He jumped on the radio.

“Stairs aren’t going to last. Get a ladder and bucket up to the windows of the back apartment, as close as you can. They said a window had been broken out.”

“Already on it,” came Alex’s terse reply. “Ladder just arrived.”

As soon as his feet hit the third floor landing, his heart fell. Almost worse up here, as if the fire originated in this hall. A clump of burning wood blocked his path and something caught his eye. A body.

“No!”

Ignoring the chaos around him, he began flinging boards away, sobbing and praying incoherently. A foot came into view. A foot encased in a heavy work boot. His precious breath released in a huff. It wasn’t her.

Pushing to his feet, more ceiling beams rained down on him, knocking him to his knees. It wasn’t a big impact, but enough to stun him. His helmet flew the opposite direction and heat seared his ear. He landed funny and his ankle screamed in protest as he again struggled to a standing position. Coughing and spitting out soot, he glanced around.

Next to him, a gaping hole offered access into the rear apartment. This had to be where she was. Covering his head and face, he leapt through the hole and scanned the room.

The smoke was too thick. He couldn’t see anything. A coughing fit seized him and he bent over, retching. Dropping into a crawl, he saw it was only a matter of seconds before the fire engulfed him. Desperation sped up his heart to a dangerous beat and his breathing came out in short gasps. A clock in his head ticked off each passing moment.

He scuttled across the room, calling her name whenever he managed a decent lungful of air. In the last bedroom, farthest from the approaching nightmare, he found her slumped over another body. Blood caked the floor under the man and the color of his hair chilled Duncan even further. Simon.

“Olivia,” he cried as he shook her. One hand immediately checked for a pulse and joy chased away his fear as her eyelids fluttered open.

“Duncan.” She couldn’t say more, overcome with hacking coughs. Once she recovered, she clutched his bunker jacket. “Simon! He fell and his legs are burned. He won’t wake up!”

“I’ll check him.” He took her hands in his gloved ones, flinching at her blisters. “It’ll be okay.”

Turning his attention to Simon, he checked his pulse, but it was slow and weak. Not good. The wounds on his legs were pretty bad, but it was his lungs and his head Duncan worried about. Simon needed medical attention now. How in the hell was he going to get them both out of there? His uncharacteristic panic reared its ugly head when he heard a reverberating crash from the hall.

“Stairs just went. How’s it coming with the ladder?” he called into the radio, moving for the windows.

“Bucket is up, but we’re about five feet shy. Pieces of the old fire escape are blocking us. Roof’s no good either. Already sagging.”

“Shit. Our room is the only one not fully engulfed. We’ll make the window work.”

He scrambled over to the window and peered over the edge. Right below, about five feet out of reach, was their only way to safety.

“Son of a bitch,” he muttered. Frank climbed the ladder to help Carl, already in the bucket.

He nodded to himself. This was how it had to be. Long ways to jump, especially with all the other factors. They were short of breath, weak from lack of oxygen, and frightened. His ankle hurt like hell. Simon was no better than a rag doll. Do or die time.

“I need a rope, a hose, something to tie around an unconscious body,” he called to Carl.

Frank’s face fell, losing its color. “Olivia?”

“Simon.”

It took a couple tries, but Carl managed to swing over a section of unwound hose. Duncan tested it, rapidly tying test knots. He didn’t like it, but there was no other choice.

Running back to help Olivia, he saw exactly what he’d been afraid of—tendrils of flame snaking into their room. The fire was starving for something dry to latch onto.

“Duncan,” Olivia gasped, her watery gaze locked on the threat.

“I see it. We have to get to the window. It’s our only shot. Help me tie this around Simon’s chest.”

They wound the hose under Simon’s arms twice, looping it over his shoulders and tying it as best they could. Once it was secure, Duncan dragged him to the window.

“Stay low!” he told Olivia.

She nodded and he felt her hand grip his boot. Hurrying now, he crawled to the window, pulling her up beside him.

“Oh god,” she said after taking a look. Coughs overwhelmed her and she sank back down. “Piece of cake.”

“It’ll be okay.”

“Duncan,” Frank called out. “I’m tossing up another rope someone found. Tie it around Olivia.”

In case she falls, Duncan added silently.

He caught the rope and tied it securely under her arms. If she slipped, it would hurt, but she’d live. It was all that mattered to him.

“No. Simon first,” she argued.

“He’d never forgive me if I didn’t get you out before him.”

Something popped and crashed behind them. Olivia screamed as Duncan felt the heat on his back. The corner Olivia and Simon had hunkered in ignited.

“I know you’re tired and it’s hard to breathe, but you have to jump.” She nodded. “Put your feet on the ledge and push out. Frank and Carl will catch you. We’re right behind you.”

Yet another piece of the ceiling fell and he had to yell to be heard. An ember landed on her hair and he patted it out, then lifted her onto the sill.

She looked at him, their gazes locking and, shocking the hell out of him, she chuckled.

“You’re always saving me.”

The angry fire behind them pushed and crowded, snarling and morphing into a memory of a day that was still trying to drag him down. He felt it now, a cold dark hole opening underneath him, telling him he didn’t do enough, but he ignored it, knowing he held in his arms proof he’d done what he could.

Flashing her a quick grin, he said, “Honey, we saved each other, more than once. This one’s on the house.”

They had minutes, if that, so he returned to the task of not breaking his concentration. He placed a hand on her lower back, helping her to balance on the wood.

“You can do it. Go!”

Olivia looked over her shoulder. “Thank you, Duncan.”

She jumped.

He held his breath and another chuck of wood slammed to the floor to his right. She landed hard on the rim of the bucket, almost slipping. As her hands grasped for a hold, Frank reached out and took her wrists.

Duncan sagged in relief, already struggling to prop Simon upright. They had minutes, if that. Instead of waiting, he peeked over the window sill to make sure Olivia was clear. Pushing to wobbly legs, he slung Simon over his shoulder and climbed into the cramped window. Ignoring the voices shouting at him, he pushed off and leapt into the air.

R
ain pummeled the windshield and heavy clouds dominated the sky above, blocking the top of the city’s skyscrapers. Simon Greene flexed his hands on the steering wheel, strangely pleased with the gloomy weather. It fit his mood perfectly. His eyes peered through the downpour, raking over the bright white tombstones peppering the green grass., shielded from the deluge by large, leafy trees. There were a hundred different places he’d rather be right now—Antarctica with no clothes, a pit of viper snakes, hell, even Mars. Anywhere but here, with the memories of that night grabbing him by the balls. He swore the scent of burnt wood and singed flesh was still in nose. At night, when he closed his eyes, there were even times he relived the moment the wall came crashing down, the final second before his father was gone, before his life changed forever.

“Come on, Simon. You can do it,” Olivia told him from the passenger seat. He kept his gaze fixed straight ahead, certain if he so much as looked her direction his grumpiness would evaporate into pure bliss.

“No. I can’t.”

“It’s been five months.”

“So?”

“So, it’s time.”

”Why are you making me do this?”

“Because he’s your father.”

“We weren’t close. You know that.”

“You have to go.”

“I don’t.”

“Don’t be a baby.”

“Well, what else do you want me to say, Liv?”

“Maybe try recognizing what he did for us that day, what he risked.”

She didn’t get it. Simon dropped his head back and rested it on the seat. “I’ve spent most of my days since the fire stuck in hospitals and clinics and physical therapy. I mean, for Christ’s sake, I have new skin that itches like hell on my legs and let’s not forget the epic brain swelling, which wouldn’t have happened if not for him.”

Olivia snorted. “You sound like a spoiled toddler.”

“Baby or toddler, what is it?”

“Right now? Both.” He heard her sigh. “Shit happens. Ignoring your problems doesn’t make them go away, trust me. Look at what Duncan did—”

“Duncan was no saint.”

“No, but he ran away from the hard stuff. Just like you’re doing now.”

“Ouch,” Simon muttered, refusing to acknowledge how rational she sounded. As usual. He knew he hadn’t been easy to be around lately. The trauma of that day, and his lengthy healing, had stolen some of his normally bright outlook on life. Maybe he needed to do this, get it over with and move on to the future. He had so many positive things going for him.

“Look at me,” Olivia ordered.

Simon pretended he didn’t hear her, wanting to wallow a little bit longer.

“Look. At. Me.”

He obeyed, turning to gaze at the beautiful creature beside him and taking in her chestnut colored hair, the big brown eyes he always felt like he would drown in, and then he looked lower. In an instant, every shred of darkness fled his body filling it with light and love and hope. Jesus, he sounded like a damn Hallmark card. He didn’t care. Every time he saw the swell of Olivia’s belly, warmth engulfed him from the inside out. He watched her caress the bump, leaving her palm resting there.

“Being here isn’t about blame, Simon. It’s about moving on. The day I finally heard the medical examiner had identified some fragments of my parents’ remains, I was able to say goodbye and let go of the past. Yes, the past is always with us, but it shouldn’t affect our future, not unless we let it.” She paused and he couldn’t help feeling a sliver of embarrassment at being weak. That was not the kind of man he wanted to be, for her or for their baby. Olivia reached over and placed his hand on her stomach. “Your father died in front of you. It’s terrible and tragic, but do not let it define who you are. Forgive him for losing his way and concentrate on the good memories you have with him. Otherwise it will tear you apart.”

“Yes, Miss Dali Lama.” Her lips quirked, tempting him to lean over and kiss her. Instead, he said, “If I admit you’re right will you hold it over me?”

“For at least the next fifty years.”

Simon smiled, hating how foreign the movement felt. “I like the sound of that.”

He gave in to his earlier impulse and drew her to him, kissing her. It was a perfect moment—the rain beating on the roof of his car, the feel of her growing belly under his palm, the cemetery beyond the window.

Maybe not so perfect, he thought as he pulled away. “I guess I should go do this.”

“Want me to go with you?”

A voice in his head told him ‘yes’, but he ignored it. “No. I’m good. I don’t want you getting wet and catching a cold. I need to do this on my own.”

“I understand.” Olivia patted his knee. “I’ll text Duncan and let him know we’ll be a little late.”

“I don’t know why I agreed to dinner in the first place.”

“Because I asked nicely.”

“He’s your ex. I don’t enjoy picturing the two of you together.”

“Then don’t.”

Simon chuckled. “I’ll try.”

“He and Leslie are happy and all I see him as now is a friend. You have nothing to worry about. Besides, I thought you two were all buddy-buddy after the Jets game.”

“I didn’t appreciate you matchmaking. I will however admit he’s not so bad.”

“Did that hurt?” He lips quirked into a half-grin.

“As a matter of fact, it did. I’ll show you where later.”

“Pervert.”

“Did you just call me a pervert at the cemetery?”

“Yes.”

Her smug expression stole his breath away. “God, I love you.”

“Good. I love you, too. That’s why you’re letting me come with you.”

“Fine.” Simon knew better than to argue with her.

Unable to delay any longer, Simon closed his eyes and prepared himself for the goodbye he was about to make. Reaching into the back seat, he snatched the umbrella and opened the door. He skirted the car and opened the passenger door for Olivia, using the umbrella to shield her from the rain. As she linked her arm through his, it gave him the courage to move forward with his life—which began with this final goodbye. Olivia had done her healing, as had Duncan, and their demons were far more vicious than his. Now it was Simon’s turn, for the sake of the amazing woman beside him ... and their child.