Stay: Changing Tides, Book 1 (19 page)

“I can.”

There was no anger left in his statement, and his shoulders slumped with defeat. Abby reached up to squeeze his arm. She’d asked too much. He hadn’t been ready, and it was her fault he hurt. His gaze traced her hand as the heat from his arm pulsed into her fingers. “You ask more from yourself than anyone else ever would.”

“I have to.”

So much more lay beneath those words. His past. His horror. A guilt that drove him to be perfect. But she didn’t understand, and maybe that was where she’d gone wrong. Getting to know more about him meant getting closer. She hadn’t wanted that connection before. Nor should she want it now. But it couldn’t be denied. “I’m sorry you regret what we shared.”

“I regret wanting more.” His fingers closed over hers.

The breath left her lungs in a heavy rush. She needed to respond, but for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out how.
I want you too… I dream of you every night… I’m in love with you and it scares me out of my freakin’ mind…

“Hey, you ready to go?”

Gigi’s yell broke the tension of the moment, and Abby pulled her hand from his. “We’ve got company.”

Brack nodded, his smile strained. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Gigi rushed over to give him a huge hug. “Brack, let me know what else you need for the auction tomorrow. I’ve made five different salads.”

“That’s great.” He waved a quick goodbye. “I’ll call if I think of anything.”

Abby watched as he walked away. His statement hung in her mind. He wanted more.

“You ready, or you gonna keep starin’ at his butt all night?”

Caught! Abby smiled. “Can you blame me?”

Gigi looped a hand though her arm. “Hell, no. My eyesight’s bad, though, so you’re getting a lot more looking than I am.”

His truck pulled out of the drive, and Abby squashed the tiny tremors of excitement his words had caused.

“So, how does it feel to be a member of the team?” Gigi asked.

“So far, so good. Except I haven’t been on any calls. Brack hasn’t given me a pager yet.” Damn, she’d forgotten to ask him to bring her pager and gear to the meeting tonight. Somehow, he hadn’t managed to find the time to get them to her. And she had a funny feeling he wouldn’t unless she pushed the point. Tonight might be the perfect time. If the meeting ended on a fun note, he might be in a good enough mood to give in.

Smoke curled in lacy patterns along the walls and furniture. The ghostlike trails of each ribbon danced along the edges of Abby’s mask, fogging the glass. No amount of protective gear could block the aroma of burnt wood and smoldering plastic. Unidentifiable objects littered the floor as she crawled along, searching. A light flickered near the door across the room. A moment later, another member of the team moved past to disappear down the hall. It might have been Jacob, but she couldn’t be sure. She was glad he was the only Elliot brother on her team. It was easier to focus without Rand or Brack hovering.

She scanned the charred remains of the room. An eerie sensation wracked her body when she saw the blackened face of a small doll. The child who’d played with that toy sat safely in another home, probably surrounded by numerous new toys, but the sensation lingered. The sinister effects of a fire couldn’t be denied. Even a training burn like this made her feel the reality of a fire’s devastation.

She turned toward the closet, her hands warmed through her gloves by the heat that still radiated from the scattered remnants of linoleum.

Her headset crackled, “Team Two, five minutes.” The odd incoherence of Brack’s voice mingled with the fire-demolished setting jarred her.

“Jacob, room three is clear.” She stretched her back to alleviate the strain from her oxygen tank. “I’m checking the front hall closet.”

“Brack didn’t—make this an—easy one, did he?”

Several grunts broke up his question. “No, he didn’t. You okay?”

“Yep. There’s shit everywhere.”

Abby made her way to the hall closet. A large support beam had fallen from the stairway leading upstairs. She gave it a push, and it toppled over, sending a rain of ash and plaster down on her head. “Damn.” She wiped at her mask and quickly readjusted the seals. “Hey, Joe. Make sure you check yourself coming down the stairs. There’s some structure damage from below.”

“Will do, Ab.”

Her boots crunched over the splintered wood as she tugged at the closet door. It cracked easily, half the panel coming off with its release. She tossed the panel aside and swung the rest of the door open. Her flashlight moved over boxes and several old pairs of shoes. Then a small soot-stained bundle caught her attention. She crawled to the back of the closet to grab the arm of a stuffed animal neatly wrapped in a miniature fireman’s jacket. The weight of the animal didn’t feel right, and she pulled it closer to examine the jacket. Several weights lined the pockets, she assumed to recreate the dead weight of an unconscious child.

A shiver pressed her to the wall, her chest aching with the eerie sensations of death surrounding her. She’d never had to take a child from a burning building. Never had to find the remains of a victim. This was as close to real as she’d ever come, and it was as close as she hoped to ever be.

She tucked the stuffed elephant under her arm. “Victim found.”

Several whoops arced through her headset, and she smiled. The wobbly beam of a flashlight moved in her direction and then Jacob was kneeling next to her. “Nice work, Slick.”

“On my way.” Joe’s voice rang with unconcealed pride. “Our time should beat team three and four. That’ll stop any pick-a-parts Brack might have for our performance.”

Abby turned with a laugh as he appeared at the top of the steps. Jacob stood and helped her to her feet. “Makes my night knowing that.”

Brack’s voice interrupted. “If you’re all done gloating, you can get your asses out here any time you’re ready.”

A loud crack accompanied Joe’s startled curse as the top step gave way under his weight. His leg dropped down through the wood but the frame of the stairs was narrow enough to catch and hold the rest of his body. Abby dropped the elephant and hurried to the underside of the stairs.

Joe’s leg dangled four feet above the ground. The fall wouldn’t have been terrible if he’d gone through, but now they’d have to manage a way to work him down through without the rest of the step letting go. “What are we looking at, Jacob?”

Jacob came up beside her. “Can’t go up the steps.” He grabbed a small table from the hallway. “Hey, Joe, I’m setting a table under your leg. Put your foot straight down.”

Joe chuckled. “Pinned like a pig set to roast. I gotta come down through, huh?”

His lighthearted jest eased the tension she hadn’t realized gripped her shoulders. “Probably your best bet. I don’t think any of us could make it up the steps without creating more of a problem.”

His foot wiggled until he found the solid top of the table. He cursed several times. “Can’t do it. I need to be able to push higher to get my other leg through.”

Jacob situated himself below the steps. “I’m gonna lift you up. Ready?” With a low grunt, he shifted Joe’s foot higher and placed it on his shoulder. “That help?”

“Yep.” Joe’s other foot, then his leg, passed through the hole and he lowered himself easily through the step. “Where’s the table?”

Jacob set his foot on the surface as Abby guided his other boot close. He’d barely set foot on the table when the frame of the step let go. Wood and Joe came down too fast for her to move, and their combined weight crushed her to the floor. Her leg turned in at an awkward angle beneath her, the strain across her old injury created a sharp pain at the back of her thigh.

Joe tumbled off her. “Shit, Ab! You okay?”

His eyes were huge inside his mask and she chuckled. “I’m fine. Let’s get out of here.”

The two men helped her to her feet as Brack’s voice crackled in. “You three done fooling around yet?”

Abby bit her lip to hide her pain. Thankful for the helmet to hide behind, she kept her head low as they hurried from the house. The evening had grown dark while they were inside, and she tossed the elephant to Brack as the others gathered around them.

She dropped to the grass and pulled her helmet free. Forcing a smile, she shrugged her air pack off and settled back against the tire of the fire engine. Joe and Jacob were exhausted as well, if their sprawls on the ground were an indication.

Brack looked them all over with a quick glance. “What happened in there?”

Joe tossed his jacket aside to fix his suspenders. “Guess I’ve had too many of Gigi’s home-cooked meals. The step let go the second I put my weight on it.”

He rubbed his slight belly and Abby laughed. “The brace beneath it had broken. I don’t think it had much to do with your weight, specifically.”

“Too sweet.” He grinned. “But I’m fine. Really, Captain.”

Brack’s gaze stayed pinned on the man a moment longer. Then he shrugged. “Pack it in.”

No one wanted to be there any longer than needed, and if Brack stayed true to form, they’d have to discuss the training at length when they arrived back at the station. It became a race to get the gear cleaned and stowed.

Abby tried to hide the limp tugging at her leg. She moved through the pain it caused, lingering on the opposite side of the truck away from watchful eyes. At one point, she thought she caught Linwood watching her. He was an older man, fairly quiet compared to the rest of the group. She’d only met him a few times, but he seemed nice enough. He moved away without question, and she was thankful for his discretion.

It was an hour later when they finally finished with the training, and she’d just hung up the last of the damp towels when Brack entered the room. He threw his jacket on a hook in silence—the only sounds left were the departing voices of the others.

Her heartbeat tripped. They were alone, or damn close to being that way. After their earlier encounter, she didn’t know if she was ready for conversation just yet. She flung the last towel in the clothesbasket and grabbed her sweatshirt. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He nodded, his gaze fixed on his jacket. Happy to escape without another confrontation, she hurried around the truck and made her way to the door.

“What’s wrong with your leg?”

Her hand was on the doorknob when his voice stopped her. Shit. She’d thought the limp wasn’t noticeable. “Nothing.”

Slow steps brought him forward, his eyes narrowed with disbelief. “Really?”

Nervous tingles clawed at her chest. “Positive.”

He shook his head, eyes closing as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “You know, I get headaches sometimes.”

Such a random statement caught her off guard. “I’m sorry?”

“Headaches.” He waved a hand toward his head. “But I hide them from the others. Don’t want them to worry, or make a big deal out of nothing.”

“So? Is that my fault as well?”

“No.” He laughed, though it wasn’t the laughter that she liked to hear. “Well, some of them are. But usually, they just happen, and I can deal with them.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and shifted her weight. Standing had begun to take its toll, and the back of her thigh pulsed with a dull ache. “I’m sorry about your headaches, Brack. But I really am tired.”

“And hurt.”

She tried to disagree, but when he closed the distance between them and grabbed her arm, she couldn’t do more than stare. “Your leg is bleeding through your jeans.”

Crud.
“It’s fine.”

“So you say.” His voice dropped to a low, heated tone. “But I’m not letting you leave until I make sure.”

“You want—” She’d slept with the guy and yet the thought of dropping her pants in front of him had her throat constricting. “I don’t think so.”

“I do.” His hand moved down her arm before he spun her slightly to look at the back of her leg. “There’s a good amount of blood. Everyone else noticed it as well.”

Heat from his body coursed over her back and shoulder, the firm pressure of his hand holding her in place. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“Then it shouldn’t be a problem if I look.”

“No.”

“No, what?”

Humor riddled his question. “No you’re not looking. I’ll check it when I get home.”

“Abby, stop being foolish.” He prodded the back of her thigh, and it stung like hell. “There could have been anything in that old house. It’s been condemned for years now. What if it was a rusty piece of metal that cut you? Just let me look.”

“I’m fine.” She tried to pull from his grasp but her knee buckled. She bit her lip to stifle the cry. Hell of a time for her leg to give out.

With an angry growl, Brack grabbed a fire jacket from its hook and tossed it over her shoulders. “You can let me look or I’m calling Linwood back here to help me.”

Oh, that was just what she needed. She could imagine explaining her reluctance to the old man. Defeat made a broad stroke in her chest, and she grabbed the buckle of her belt. “Fine. But I really think you’re being ridiculous.”

Her fingers shook almost to the point of spasms, but she managed to get the buckle loose. She didn’t dare even glance at him as she turned and grabbed the metal bar near the door of the fire engine. With her bad leg so weak, she balanced on her good leg as she slid the zipper down.