WLUV Box Set: Ignited, Consumed, Burned (12 page)

Getting away was her only logical thought. Otherwise, Macy
was wrecked. She found a seat in the corner by her gate at the small Grand City
airport and she sat there, facing the window.

Her phone vibrated, but she had no earthly idea who it could
be, and the New York area code didn’t give her a clue. Macy looked down at her
phone and to her surprise there were two messages from New York.

She’d already declined the network offer but today – again –
they’d asked her to reconsider. It was the last thing on her mind. Talking to
agents and network people was not a good idea, not in her current state.

Macy put the phone back in her purse and closed her eyes.
She tried not to sob as she grieved for the future she’d dared to imagine with
Wes.

She heard a bag plunk down on the seat next to her. Fuck.
There’s
an unwritten airport code, people, even newbies know it.
The rule is if
there are open seats at the gate you don’t sit down right next to someone. So
who was this asshole?

Macy opened her eyes, annoyed, but then relieved—it was a
familiar, friendly face. Mac, military backpack in hand, was sitting beside
her, the seats barely big enough to hold him. He was heading back to NYC as
well.

“You look like shit, Green,” Mac was ever one to sugar coat
anything, “If you’re going to cry the entire way home I’d just as soon catch
the next flight. Maybe I’ll ask for a refund from the airline.”

“Thank you.” She tried to glare and smile at the same time
but just started to cry.

“You and the billionaire GM have a fight? I thought for sure
you’d be staying on.” Mac put a big arm around Macy and she sagged against him
and sobbed. She was fairly certain she was getting snot on his jacket, but it
was already a mess, and she just didn’t give a damn.

“C’mon, Green, you know this is my best jacket.” But Macy
knew he was just trying to make her laugh. He’d once let her vomit on him when
they’d eaten something vile on some far away continent.

“I assume all this bawling is because of Mr. Handsome
Billionaire GM. True love or something? Whatever, what I really want to know
is, are you going to take that network offer? It’s pretty choice.” Mac squeezed
her shoulder. He was trying to get her to buck up, and it was actually pretty
sweet. For a tough, gruff, war zone correspondent, Macy knew Mac had a gooey
center.

“You’re just trying to change the subject,” Macy said
between choking sobs.

“Well, it sounds like your billionaire boyfriend did you a
favor.” Mac didn’t usually say much, but faced with Macy’s emotional display
he’d apparently turned stupid and babbly, anything to distract her.

She pulled away. “What?” 

“When I told him you turned down that network offer, he had
some questions for me. I think he helped sweeten the pot for you. I mean, you
don’t get to be a billionaire dude without knowing how to squeeze more money
out of people. Hopefully, he got you set up with a nice chunk of change.”

Macy shook her head, dumbfounded. “I really don’t understand
what you’re saying.”

“I don’t know, Mace, he said something about not wanting to
hold you back and then he asked me for more details.” Mac started to look
sheepish as it dawned on both of them what had happened. “I might have given
him a few.”

“Shit. Oh shit. Mac, are you telling me, Wes, just dumped me
because he wants what’s
best
for me?” Macy’s grief was turning to anger.
Fast.

Anger was way better.

“Hey, take it easy, I thought network was better for you
too. Seeing you here like this, though, looking so heartsick…clearly you love
the guy more than network. You know I’ll take care of anyone who messes with
you, but in this case I think your Billionaire GM boyfriend wanted the best for
you. I told him Grand City would be a major step down and he agreed.” Mac
started to laugh, but her look stopped him. “You know, it made me almost like
him, how much he wanted this for you.”

“I have to go, Mac.” Macy patted dry the tear stains she’d
left on Mac’s now soaked shoulder and gathered up her things. “And for
interfering in my life, your punishment is working for WLUV. You get on that
flight to NYC, but I will see you back here in two weeks. I don’t give a shit
what your PTSD counselor says.”

With that, Macy leaned down and hugged Mac, hard before
dashing out of Grand City Airport and back to WLUV.

**

Wes stared at the pile of resumes that Macy had flung at
him, feeling like his guts were ripped out. Bile sat in his throat.

He’d called in a few favors and made sure the network knew
she was available and they should try again, but that they needed to pay her
what she was worth. He knew the station and his life would suck without her but
for the first time in his life he sacrificed himself, his heart, for someone
else. It just made sense to him now.

Macy couldn’t say she loved him because she had bigger and
more important things to do in her career. She’d held back, he realized, for a
reason, and it was because she didn’t feel the same as he did. But he loved
her, and because of that, Wes didn’t want to hold her back. As much as he
wanted to keep her he could see she was meant for so much more.

He’d also made up his mind to stay at WLUV and run things
for a while, and he’d called his dad to let him know. He wanted to take what
Macy taught them and push them even further. It was already more satisfying
than he could ever have predicted. He didn’t know how long it was going to
take, but he was going to make sure this place was number one and that it
turned a profit for Thompson-Hardaway. After that, who knew?

But those were his dreams, and they weren’t necessarily
right for Macy. Keeping her stuck here just because he loved her was selfish.
There was a reason she held back, he reminded himself, and he wasn’t going to
punish her for it or bind her to him.

Wes flipped through the resumes Macy had flung on his desk.
He needed to find someone fast so the station didn’t lose what ground Macy had
gained, but it was hard to focus. He’d have to tell the staff she was gone too.

Bernie knocked on the door and peeked in. “Hey, boss… Did
you just run our consultant out of town?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Bernie looked sad. “That’s a shame. She loved this place.
And you.”

Wes nodded without looking up from his desk. His heart was
heavy and he’d already decided to start drinking tonight, a lot, to drown out
his thoughts of Macy. “Bernie, I’ve got a special assignment tonight. I’m going
to need a lot of whiskey, and probably someone to put me in a wheel barrel and
dump me off at home. Are you available? ”

“Bernie is busy, and he does not have time for your
bullshit. There’s a semi leaking god-knows-what on the business bypass loop. I
suggest you get Gordon on it,” Macy stood behind Bernie. His Gorgeous Macy was
standing there in his office, and she had a determined look in her eye.

“Ooh, I’m on it.” Macy and Bernie exchanged a glance. They
were comrades no doubt. Wes wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw Bernie
half-skipping back to the newsroom. He couldn’t be sure because just then Macy
closed in on him.

“I see you’re looking at news director resumes.”

“Yes, I am. These were air mailed.” Wes felt his heart begin
beating again the moment she appeared.

“Well, mine isn’t in there, but I can assure you it’s better
than those slobs.” Macy took the papers out of Wes’s hands.

Wes tried to be strong for her, and he pushed his point,
“Macy, you know you’re too good for this place. Someone with your talent should
be at Network.”    

She wasn’t listening. Instead, she moved toward him like a
lioness about to kill her prey.... Wes was not used to being prey.

“And
you
should stop trying to boss me around.
Haven’t I proven time and time again that I’m always right?” Macy sat on his
lap like she’d done before and try as he might, he couldn’t resist her.

He didn’t try that hard.

It had been the worst moment of his life, not responding to
her when she’d been in this exact spot those few, long heart-wracked hours
before. Being cold to her was impossible to do a second time. A man had only so
much strength!

“Is this your job interview technique?” She got the words
out between kisses, the heat building between them.

“Only with you.”

Then Macy kissed Wes again. It was deep, sweet, and even
desperate between them, as it always was, but there was something else there,
now, something even better. “I love you, Wes Thompson. I am sorry it took me so
long to say it. And if you ever try to get rid of me this place will have a
great breaking news exclusive because I’ll kill you with my bare hands.”

Wes grabbed her hair and looked carefully at her face, “You
really want to be the news director here, G?”  He just couldn’t believe that
she wanted to stay here with him, that this would be enough for her.

“I do. No, we’re not number one yet…but the job isn’t done.”

Wes leaned into her, inhaling her, “Welcome to WLUV, news
director.”

“Thanks. Now, about that… I want to hire two new—Macy wasn’t
one to give up an advantage, Wes realized, and she had him. She had him good.
He crushed her words in a kiss.

“No way, Gorgeous,” he murmured as he momentarily halted her
constant demands on WLUV’s budget.

 It was an old fight and it wouldn’t be their last.

The End.

Six
months ago
…

Had
he done all he could? That’s what kept playing in Ray Macmillan’s mind. Had
Karen Keith been grabbed by the mob of people because of something he did or
didn’t do?

As
the chopper lifted away from the war zone, the Marines had to physically
restrain him, then they’d shot him full of some sort of tranquilizer. It
knocked him out cold, but now he was coming to. The images in his mind were
frenzied. It was a tumble of faces, blood, and chanting in the mob-filled
square.

 “Is she
with us, is Karen here?” He managed to ask Sgt. Teller, the marine that had
been with them in the melee. Teller shook his head.

“We need
to go back down there. They’ll tear her apart. Oh god.” He felt nauseous from
the drugs and there was bile rising in his throat, but he needed to get to her.
He started to get up and realized his leg was in a metal frame.

“You’re
not going anywhere. You’ve got a broken leg, a broken collar bone, and you look
even shittier than normal with about twenty stitches in your face and another
couple dozen back here. So shut up.” Teller detailed a list of injuries Mac
couldn’t feel, and didn’t care about.

He’d let
the crowd carry off his reporter. He’d fought to keep her with them and lost to
an out of control mob. They’d nearly crushed him to death.

It was his
fault. He should have insisted they leave when he felt the atmosphere turn from
celebration to anger. But Karen and New York weren’t listening to the
photographer. Karen insisted on this story, her story. She didn’t believe there
was any danger. Besides, she trusted Mac to make sure she didn’t get hurt, and
he trusted Teller as their Marine escort, and now it had all gone wrong. He
couldn’t think about what would happen to her, what probably already had.

“This
isn’t on you.” Teller tried to get him to rest and calm down.

“Of course
it’s on me.”

“We were
supposed to be there for your backup. She thought we were there. I thought we
were, too, but they’d pulled my unit to handle the situation at the gate. And
you know Karen, she was stubborn and bossy to the end.”

“The end.
God. Jesus God.” Mac threw up onto the floor of the chopper. Medics scurried
back to him and he felt another needle sink into his arm. He slipped into the
darkness again, the only place he could escape. He only wished he could take
Karen there with him.

Three
months ago…

The rehab
was almost over.  Mac lifted 150 pounds with the machine using his repaired
leg. He could walk, run, lift, and do even more than he could before the
attack.

None of
the injuries he’d sustained were connected with specific moments that he could
remember. Teller reported to the military panel that he’d seen the mob hit Mac
with a bat or a pole, and that’s likely what broke his leg. Mac did remember
swinging wildly while trying to make his way to the group that engulfed Karen.
Someone grabbed his arm to stop him. That was likely what broke his collar
bone. The gash under his eye and the one in the back of his head happened when
he was nearly trampled to death.

Once
Teller and the Marines realized their mission at the gate was futile, they’d
come back to the square. When they found him on the ground, they dragged him up,
out, and into the chopper.

Days,
after he'd been medevac, ’d
to Mount Sinai in New York he’d watched some cell phone camera video that was
plastered on every news channel. The medical staff had tried to keep it from
him, but that was impossible; it was everywhere. It was shaky video, but it
told the story of the last seconds before the crowd engulfed Karen Keith.

“War
Correspondent Karen Keith Murdered by Insurgents,” the headline was broadcast
on the hospital televisions as he floated in and out of his drugged sleep.
Rival factions were ripping the country apart and it continued to sink into
chaos. The U.S. had ordered all journalists out of the area, but that came a
day too late for Karen. A masked leader of one of the insurgent groups claimed
responsibility for her death.

Mac prayed
that she had died in the square, right away. That was his hope. As hopes went
it was black and cold, but it was all he had. Karen’s body was never recovered
and the network eventually moved on to the next story.

They also
paid for his rehab and even offered him new assignments, but the disaster with
Karen was all he could think about. He wanted to believe that he did everything
he could in the chaos of that crowd, but that didn’t make her any less dead. He
only knew he didn’t want the responsibility of a partner anymore; the only
future he could see was working alone, if at all.

Until
another stubborn woman forced him out of his self-imposed exile.

Present
Day….

“So I’m
putting you up in the hotel you were in when you visited, that okay? Or do you
want me to call around for somewhere different?”  Macy rattled off the plans
she’d made.

“You
realize I never really ever said yes to your offer.” Mac did not relish the
idea of working in some small Midwestern town. He’d been to every hot spot on
the globe and Macy wanted him to cover snow storms and local politics or some
such bullshit.

The
freelance jobs were wearing thin, though. And war zone reporting? Well, he’d
seen it. Too much of it. He was running out of job options and he needed to
work. He could handle being crazy, but crazy and broke was a tough
combination.  

“This
isn’t up for debate. You’re floundering, I know it. Plus I need you here to
help me.” Macy had never taken no for an answer in his experience.

“You know
I’ve been working alone since…” Mac couldn’t bring himself to say Karen’s name.

“Yes, and
I know you blame yourself, which is ridiculous,” Macy’s voice softened. “I knew
Karen. She was tougher and more stubborn than anyone I’d ever met. I have no
doubt you tried to get her out of there and she didn’t listen.”

“I really
don’t want to talk about this, Macy.” Mac closed his eyes tight. He could feel
a headache coming on; it was like each stitch in his head throbbed at once.

“Fine,
here’s the deal. You come here and help me get this place in shape and I
promise not to bring it up again. You’ll have a full-time gig and some
stability if you give it a fair shot here and get me through a few ratings
books.”

“Ugh,
ratings.” Mac had only ever cared about the stories, not the ratings. His job
was the pictures and he was damn good at catching amazing moments on video. It
was up to somebody else to worry about ratings.

But he was
burned out. He’d shot enough video of war, danger, sand, all of it. Maybe this
was what he needed, some time to sort himself out. To get his head back
together.

“I promise
you’re going to find stories here that will surprise you.” Macy was a recent
convert to small town life though Mac figured her GM in shining armor had a lot
to do with that.

“So you
find true love and crap and now we’ve all got to come to Michigan? Do I have to
sleep with the GM to really appreciate the gig?” Mac decided Macy needed to
know he was not going to pull punches. They’d known each other too long for
worry about to tiptoeing around. She sure as heck wasn’t treating him like an
egg that would break. It was kind of refreshing, really. The few people in his
life at the network were afraid he’d lose it, so they were ridiculously polite
and careful, and it annoyed the hell out of him.

“If you
sleep with the GM I will bust a cap in your ass,” Macy said.

“You know
I love it when you try to talk gangster. See you in a week. And you owe me one,
Green.”

“We’ll see
who owes who after you give this a shot. Text me when you get in next week. I
love you Mac. It’s the right choice. I promise.” Macy hung up. It was good to
have her in his corner. She was one of the oldest friends he’d had. They’d
always been like brother and sister and despite how gorgeous she was they’d
never messed up their friendship with sex. Thank god. He’d been paired up with
her when she first hit the network and they’d worked together in several
situations nearly as dicey as the one that killed Karen.

But Macy
was different than Karen. She listened to the people around her. She was
ambitious but not reckless. Karen, she didn’t listen to anyone and she’d paid
with her life. Mac shook his head. He had to be disciplined. It was a struggle
not to revert to thinking about everything that had happened in the last three
months.

He would
do what he could for Macy. He appreciated what she was trying to do in Grand
City and he did want to help her make WLUV better. She was so committed to the
idea that her enthusiasm was contagious. This was a safe and quiet assignment,
and focusing on this new gig might take his mind off of Karen. Sure, it might
be boring, but a little boredom might be what he needed right now. The last
time he checked there were no rival insurgent factions trying to take over
small towns in Michigan.

He’d
sublet his New York apartment for a while, but there was no way in hell he’d
let it go completely—it was the only affordable place in the city. Then he
packed up his things and road tripped it to Michigan to play local news with
Macy Green.