Once Burned (Firehouse Fourteen Book 1) (5 page)

Left her for dead.

Minutes crept by, quiet minutes where Mike knew, just
knew
that Jay was wondering how much more he could push her. He must have realized he was nearing the edge because he let out a heavy sigh and sat back. "Fine, you don't want to talk about it, suit yourself. Think you could at least manage to talk about this fun-filled program I got suckered into?"

Mike managed a laugh, at Jay's desperate tone as well as the image of him teaching a drunk-driving awareness program for high school students. "What do you want me to say? You're the one who was stupid enough to volunteer. Sucker."

"Ha ha. And I didn't exactly volunteer, I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. You're going to help me, right?"

"What?" Mike struggled to a sitting position and stared at Jay in open-mouthed shock. He was watching her in wide-eyed innocence, his gray eyes sparkling with humor as he brushed a lock of blonde hair off his forehead. "Now I know you're cracked in the head."

"C'mon Mikey, I need help. I don't know what the hell I'm doing with this."

"And I do? Go talk to somebody in Public Affairs. This whole fiasco was their idea, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean they know what's going on. Throw together a new program for good PR, forget about how to make it work. You know how it goes. So you're going to help. Right?"

"Help how? What makes you think I can do anything that you can't?"

"Because you're better at that whole instructing thing."

"This isn't instructing."

"So? Just come with me tomorrow afternoon when I meet the teacher liaison. I'll owe you one."

"You already owe me about a thousand as it is."

"So add it to my tab." Jay stood and stretched, his muscles flexing under the faded denim that hugged his legs. He reached down and grabbed his keys from the coffee table then walked to the door, pausing to study Mike with a look she didn't like. "So I'll pick you up tomorrow afternoon?"

Mike closed her eyes against Jay's concern and nodded, wondering why she was agreeing to get herself involved in something that would probably prove to be nothing more than just another huge headache.

Nick leaned back in the chair and stared at the clock on the wall.
Tick, squeak, tock, squeak.
The seconds ticked away in time to the rocking motion of the chair, the only sounds in the deserted classroom. A stack of essays was piled neatly on the scarred desk, demanding his attention, but his mind was somewhere else.

So much for making use of the last period of the day, his only free one on Mondays.

He let out a deep breath and ran his hands through his hair in another unsuccessful attempt to rid himself of the one image that had haunted him all weekend: Kayla, drunk and sick in a bar parking lot. Christ, why couldn't he stop seeing her like that?

Because as bad as that was, it was better than his memory of the last time he had seen her, his conscience piped up. He closed his eyes and swallowed, tasting the bitterness of guilt deep in his throat. Ten years was a lifetime ago, and he still couldn't get rid of it. The guilt, the regret, all of it was still imbedded deep inside him, eating away at him even when he thought he had buried it with his past. Seeing Kayla had made him realize that the past wasn't quite as buried as he thought it was.

"I don't need this," Nick mumbled to himself. His voice bounced back at him, too loud in the empty room. He ran his hands through his hair again then leaned forward and propped his elbows on the desk, thinking. He'd prefer not thinking, but he had tried that already and it hadn't worked.

Part of him wondered if it would just be better to seek Kayla out, to talk to her and try to resolve their past once and for all. He had a feeling that the idea was easier said than done. First, he had no idea where to even find Kayla except at work, and this was the kind of conversation that needed to be done in private. Second, he was pretty sure that Kayla wouldn't want to speak to him even if he did track her down.

So why was he sitting here agonizing over the whole thing? There was very little chance that he'd run into her. Running into her twice last week was a quirky fluke that wouldn't happen again. Did he really want to dredge up the past, to pick at old injuries, just to ease his conscience now?

No, he didn't. The time for that was long past. He'd lived with the consequences for ten years; he couldn't dredge it all up now just to ease his own guilt.

A picture immediately came to mind, an image of the older Kayla superimposed over the younger, more innocent girl he remembered. And clearer than the picture in his mind was the certainty that he was largely responsible for the lack of innocence he sensed in her now.

Just forget it.
Nick rubbed his eyes with the heels of both hands. Forget the guilt, pretend it didn't exist. And forget the pity, both for himself and for Kayla. Both of their lives had changed, they were different people now, and their paths would never cross again. He had to let it go, get back to who and what he was now. He let out a deep breath and pulled the first essay from the pile, determined to grade at least a handful before his three-thirty appointment.

An hour later he was still staring bleary-eyed at the first essay, the typed letters blurring illegibly in front of him. He murmured a silent thanks when the room intercom buzzed and the school secretary announced that his visitors were on their way down. Nick tossed the essay back in the pile and stood, stretching until his back popped. He ran one hand through his hair in an attempt to smooth it, straightened his tie and jacket, then opened the classroom door at the knock and immediately froze when he saw who the visitors were.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me." The cool smile on Kayla's face disappeared with her blunt statement. She spared a glance at Nick then turned to face Jay Moore with an accusing glare. "Did you know it was going to be him?"

Jay looked as stunned as Nick felt, and was barely able to shake his head in response to Kayla's question. Silence stretched tight around the trio then finally snapped when Kayla spoke again. "All yours, Jay. I'm out of here."

"Wait, hold on!" Jay reached out and grabbed Kayla by the arm then ushered her past Nick and into the classroom, closing the door behind him. He kept hold of her arm as he led her to Nick's desk and pushed her into the chair. She held herself stiffly upright, her arms crossed defiantly as she stared straight ahead, her jaw clenched. Jay leaned down and said something to her, but Nick was too far away to hear it clearly. Whatever it was apparently didn't please Kayla because she shot Jay a withering look before turning it on him.

"Okay, now, time to get to the bottom of this and find out what's going on. You," Jay pointed at finger at Nick, "get over here. If I can't get an answer from her, maybe I'll get one from you."

Nick raised an eyebrow at the demand but wisely said nothing as he closed the distance between the door and his desk. He risked another glance at Kayla and felt the guilt and regret wash over him again. Had she really become that cold and hard, or was it just a show for his benefit? He was almost afraid of the answer.

"Now that we're all together here, someone help me out. First—are you the teacher we're supposed to meet to set this program up?"

"The awareness program? Yes," Nick confirmed. Jay muttered under his breath, obviously not happy with the answer. He rubbed the back of one hand across his mouth and sighed, staring at Kayla. She stared back at him, sending him some silent message that Nick couldn't interpret. A flash of jealousy, unexpected and unwelcome, seared his veins, and he wondered if the couple in front of him had a history. They must have, to be able to communicate so swiftly and silently. And it was none of his damned business, so why was he even worrying about it?

"Perfect. Just great." Jay released another sigh then looked at Nick, those odd gray eyes filled a hardness he didn't understand. "Okay then. Is there anyone else besides you that we can work with?"

"Excuse me?" Irritation exploded deep inside. Not just irritation; something else, something darker from his past, a feeling of inadequacy, of once again wondering what else he needed to do to atone for the sins of his past. Nick forced his jaw to relax, forced himself to meet the other man's gaze with his own unflinching one. "No, I'm afraid there isn't."

"Kind of hypocritical, don't you think? You, heading a program against drunk driving?" Kayla's words were icy, bitter. Nick faced her then immediately recoiled from the look she leveled at him. Accusation, anger. And why shouldn't he see those things in her eyes? He opened his mouth to say something then promptly shut it against the defensive comeback he had been about to utter. More than anyone else, Kayla had every right to throw the accusation at him.

"I don't drink anymore." Nick's quiet response seemed empty and hollow to his own ears. From the expression on Kayla's face, it was obvious she didn't believe him. She pushed herself out of the chair and walked several paces away, putting more distance between them. Her back and shoulders were rigid, her jaw clenched even tighter than before. He watched her carefully as she started pacing, the pony tail of her slicked-back hair swinging against the shoulders of the shapeless blue uniform shirt with each angry step.

Nick sighed and ran a hand through his own hair in frustration. And despair. The air around Kayla crackled with emotion so tense, so thick he could feel it. He braced himself for the explosion he was sure would come. But there was no explosion, only a damning silence that was a hundred times worse—because it made Nick realize that this woman in front of him was nothing like the Kayla he remembered from all those years ago. Laughing, innocent, quick to show what she was feeling, no matter if it was good or bad. This Kayla, the woman in front of him now, looked as if she never smiled, as if she kept things too deep inside, buried and hidden. Almost as if she didn't feel—or as if she was afraid to let the world know she felt.

They were the same, yet completely different. He didn't know this woman in front of him, no matter how closely she resembled the girl from his past. He closed his eyes tight and immediately saw an image of the younger Kayla, vibrant and laughing, full of life and hopes and dreams.

Over that came another image, an image of twisted metal and broken bones and torn flesh. And blood.

Oh God, the blood.

Nick shuddered and opened his eyes, trying to banish the memory that he had worked so hard to forget. His breath caught in his throat as his eyes met Kayla's, at the bitterness etched on her face. And something else, a deeper emotion he couldn’t read but that made him uncomfortable regardless. He looked away, unable to meet her direct gaze any longer, and cleared his throat, swallowing against the thickness that clogged it, making it hard to breathe.

"For what it's worth, I am sorry. I never meant..." He trailed off, immediately recognizing the mistake of saying anything. Fire flashed in the depths of her green eyes as she closed the distance between them, jabbing a long finger in his direction. She didn't touch him, made sure there was still space separating them, but the physical threat was there nonetheless. It took more willpower than Nick thought it would not to step away from her.

"Don't you even say it! Do you hear me? You had your chance for sorry ten years ago and you weren't man enough to do it then, so don't try to do it now!" Kayla's voice was soft, tightly controlled despite the tense emotion of her words. He swallowed and stepped back, remembering they weren't alone in the room only when Jay's quiet words shattered the tension surrounding them, suffocating them.

"What the hell is going on between you two?" His gray eyes, full of concern, rested on Kayla for a few long seconds. Then he shifted his gaze to Nick, his eyes cold and filled with suspicion. The silence was broken by Kayla's laugh, brittle and sharp.

"Going on? Nothing. It's just funny that he should be warning anyone about the dangers of drunk driving. I mean, you do it so well, Nicky, don't you?"

"Kayla—"

"No, let's get it all out." Her voice betrayed none of the emotion that flashed in her eyes, cold with fury as she stared at him. Quiet seconds went by before she looked away, turning her attention to Jay. "I wasn't joking when I told you the other night that he almost killed me. One night, just over ten years ago, Nicky decided he was okay to drive and I was stupid enough to believe him. He walked away from the accident. I didn't. And that was the last time I saw him."

Kayla turned back to face him, those green eyes that used to be so full of life and laughter now cold and flat, completely devoid of all emotion. "So you see, Jay, there really was nothing mysterious about it like you thought. Just an ex who means as much to me as I do to him. Does that sound about right, Nicky?" She turned back to Jay and offered him a brittle smile. "Sorry pal, but you're on your own with this one. I'll wait outside for you."

Nick watched her open the door and walk out, felt the familiar guilt sweep over him once more, harsher and more painful than ever before. And this time, the guilt, all the other emotion he had been trying to deny, scared the shit out of him, twisting his gut and knotting his throat. And he was scared. Scared because his worse fear from that long ago night had actually come true, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself otherwise.

He had been kidding himself all these years, telling himself that Kayla was alive and well, blindly believing that of all the things he had done, he could at least be thankful that he hadn't killed her.

With the image of the woman who had just walked out of the room still burning clearly in his mind, Nick realized he had been wrong all these years. The Kayla he remembered
was
dead and gone, had been for ten years.

And he was the one who had killed her.