Page 8 of The Night Belongs To Fireman

His jaw tightened.

“And now I’m making it worse. I’m really sorry. I’m not myself at the moment. Although you probably wouldn’t like me when I am myself either. My father says I’m headstrong. But that’s just because I don’t do whatever he tells me. Don’t get me wrong. I do some things he tells me. Most things, actually. And that’s probably what’s wrong with my life, right there. Do you think you could give me something to make me stop babbling?”

A smile pulled at the corner of his mouth, and when he looked up, Cindy securely in his arms, the light in his eyes made her momentarily breathless.

“Don’t worry. Nothing you say during an emergency counts. It’s like Vegas.”

“What happens in the car crash stays in the car crash?”

“Exactly. I’m ready to take Cindy out now.”

Rachel felt cool air against her side as Fred bore Cindy toward the door. She could practically smell the freedom. Once Cindy was out, she could scramble out of here and run, run, run …

Too bad she couldn’t explain so Fred the Fireman could understand. See, when I was eight, I was kidnapped and held for ransom in a cage the size of a cereal box, and ever since then I’ve been a little sketched out by tight spaces.

“One more thing,” Fred added as he neared the door. “You’ll probably be tempted to get the hell out of here once Cindy’s gone. Please don’t do that. You might have injuries you don’t realize. The safest course is to take it nice and slow and controlled. And let me do all the work.”

She nodded. And she certainly intended to do as he asked. Fred, unlike many people in her life, had proven himself to be completely trustworthy up to this point. But when Cindy’s warm, suffocating weight had been lifted off her, giddy relief flooded through her in a hot rush. Suddenly all her carefully maintained control shattered. She crawled across the seat toward the gaping hole torn in the side of the limo.

Fred was still blocking the door—or the space where the door had been—with his bulky fireman’s jacket. He was saying something to someone but everything was just a buzzing in her ears. She had to get out, out. She aimed a shove at his back but her hand landed on the rear of his jeans. He turned, looking down at her with an exasperated expression.

“What are you doing?”

“I have to … I need to … get me out …” The air felt like cement moving in and out of her lungs.

“I told you to wait.”

The censure in his voice was exactly the right thing to bring her to her senses. “Right. And I did. Now I’m ready to leave,” she announced, clinging to her dignity with all her might.

Her efforts didn’t seem to impress him at all. He looked amused by her declaration. “You can leave. I promise. I’m not aiming to keep you in a wrecked limo all night. I was trying to deal with these reporters out here. I don’t know how they got this close, but they did. I blame Ella Joy; that woman could talk her way into a mama bear’s den. Anyway, come on out, but you’d better be ready to be famous.” He shifted to the side, and she saw something even worse than being trapped in a small space.

Camera crews.

She shrank back in the limo, chills racing up her spine. “No,” she told Fred. “I’m not getting out until they leave.”

He did a double take. “Excuse me? A second ago you were practically mauling me to get out.”

She tried to answer but couldn’t, emotions seesawing through her.

“I’m confused,” he said. “What’s going on?”

Digging deep, she dredged up enough control to answer. “I won’t go on camera. Either make them go away or I’m staying in here.” She gave him her most mulish look, the one that made her father practically lose his mind. But in this case, her father would agree with her one hundred percent. She couldn’t let the cameras get a shot of her.

“I have a better idea. Let me handle this.” Fred crouched down and beckoned to her, opening both his arms. “If you turn your head against my chest, no one will be able to see your face. I’ll put you right in the ambulance, and you’ll be off to the hospital before anyone’s the wiser. Okay?”

She stared at him, feeling as if he were the only solid thing in the swirling fog of panic. She took in the warmth of his dark eyes, the firmness of his jaw. If she didn’t get out of this limo soon, she might seriously lose it. If she could trust anyone, surely it would be this kindhearted, if slightly annoyed, firefighter.

She nodded, then felt his arms come around her. It happened so swiftly it took her breath away. Suddenly she was surrounded in warmth and strength. His arms, under the padded jacket, felt reassuringly powerful. The guy was strong, she realized. He didn’t look like a huge, muscular guy, but he didn’t blink at carrying her weight. She felt his muscles tense as he gathered her close. Crowded against his jacket, she inhaled the scent of the thick fabric. It reminded her of the smell of the dock at their place in Marin County. A little bit of tar, a little bit of diesel. The smell of a working man.

---