Page 27 of Tuck & Roll

By the time Kylie made it home, it was around nine o’clock and she still hadn’t heard from Race. With no other choice, she was going to have to wait until tomorrow to try and reach out to him again.

Closing and locking the door behind her, she flipped the lights on and kicked her shoes off by the door. Her sister had sent leftovers home with her that Kylie planned to enjoy for lunch tomorrow. She put them away and debated what to do next. If she started digging deeper into the information contained on the flash drive, she’d be up all night and miss another night of sleep. She’d already spent several nights staying up way too late trying to get her work for Race finished as quickly as possible. It was catching up with her and she was tired. She let her backpack slide off her shoulder and dropped it on the kitchen table next to a stack of folded towels and washcloths that needed to be taken to her master bathroom.

She pulled the flash drive out of her backpack and shoved it in her pants pocket. Thinking a hot bath and a glass of wine sounded good, she pulled a glass from her cabinet and filled it two-thirds of the way. Balancing her stack of clean towels in one arm, she reached for her glass with the opposite hand. She placed it on the edge of the tub, put her towels in the small pantry next to the toilet and set the water temperature to what she liked. She went back to her bedroom and stripped out of her clothes, leaving them on the floor to pick up tomorrow. She removed the flash drive from her jeans and stared at it like it would voluntarily give up its secrets. When nothing was forthcoming, she went to the closet, opened her fireproof safe and locked it away until she could find time to look through it tomorrow.

Settling into her hot bath, she took a drink of wine and leaned back against the tub. She should have put some music on before she’d gotten in, but it was too late. She wasn’t getting up. The silence after being around her nieces made the quietness of her house even more pronounced. She closed her eyes and let her mind relax. She’d been pushing herself hard, working longer hours than usual to get everything Race had asked for finished.

The program she was working on for him was an idea she’d been toying with for a while. If it worked out the way it was supposed to, she was thinking about selling it to the public. It would be so amazing not to have to live from one project to the next.

She really wished she’d been able to get a hold of Race today. The sooner she showed him what she found and he told her what he wanted her to do with the information, the more relieved she’d feel. She wasn’t sure who Chet was talking to on the phone when she’d gotten there today or who he meant by “they’ll find someone else” if the person on the phone didn’t do their job. Who was they? Because of that and his comment to turn up the heat on the Sons, she was almost convinced Chet maintaining two sets of books meant he and someone else were working against the Sons, but why? What did they hope to accomplish?

“Stop it, Kylie.” She had to shut that all down or she’d find herself mulling it over all night and missing out on some much-needed sleep. Tomorrow would come soon enough and she needed to be firing on all cylinders if she was going to be of any use to Race.

Once the water started getting cold, she got out and dried off. She quickly pulled on a pair of panties and a tank top and climbed into bed. She slid deeper under the covers, then leaned over and shut off the light.

She didn’t know how long she’d been asleep when the urge to pee hit her. It was beyond annoying. Couldn’t she have one night where she got a full eight hours of sleep without any interruptions? She rolled over and tried willing herself to go back to sleep, telling her bladder she really didn’t need to go. Her eyes flew open as the smell of smoke penetrated the sleepy recesses of her brain. She sat up in bed and stared at the closed door like she had x-ray vision. “Damn it.” She was going to have to get up in order to investigate where the smell was coming from.

She pulled the bedroom door open partway and was hit square in the face by a rush of smoke, causing her to cough. “What the hell?” she choked. Was her house on fire? She eased down the hallway as far as she could get before she had to stop. She tried pulling the collar of her shirt over her mouth and nose, hoping to stem the coughing, but it didn’t work. She only made it halfway down the hall when the heat from the fire hit her. It looked like her living room and kitchen were fully engulfed with flames already licking up the sides of the walls.

Spinning on her heel, she ran back to her bedroom, slammed the door shut and exploded into action. She grabbed the jeans she’d taken off earlier and pulled them on. Next, she shoved her feet in her shoes and she grabbed for her cell phone. From the bottom of the bed, she grabbed her jacket and pulled it on over her tank as she flew to the window. Flames were already climbing up the outside wall beneath the window, cutting off her exit. “Damn it.”

Thick noxious smoke had started seeping under the door, filling the bedroom and throwing her into another fit of coughing. “Crap.” She had to get to the bathroom. The window above the toilet was half the size of the one in the bedroom but she could still fit through it if she could get it open. “Grrrr,” she strained to open it. Fuck! It was stuck. She pulled her jacket over the lower half of her face and went in search of the bat she kept propped in the corner behind her bedroom door in the event an intruder got in her house.

With bat in hand, she returned to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her to try and buy herself some time. She swung the bat, knocking the biggest portion of the glass outside in one swing. She then ran the bat along the edges, removing as much of the remaining glass as possible. Satisfied, she found several towels to lay on the window ledge and climbed out headfirst.

“Ouch!” She felt a piece of glass embed itself in her shoulder as she landed awkwardly. Another shard pierced the bottom of her shoe. Reaching down, she pulled the glass from her foot and started to hobble around to the front of her house. She was met by her next-door neighbor and his teenage son.

“Hang on! We’ve got you!” They each wrapped one of her arms around their necks and all but carried her toward the front of her house. They didn’t stop until they had her across the street and leaning against a car. Half the neighborhood was already gathering across the street, most of whom were in their pajamas or robes and slippers.

“We’ve already called 9-1-1,” one of them told her.

“Thank you,” she managed between coughs.

“Thank God you made it out of there in time,” another neighbor said.

Kylie’s heart broke. She felt so helpless, watching her house go up in flames, knowing there wasn’t a single thing she could do at this point. Yes, it was a rental, but everything inside was all hers. Her heart broke a little more, realizing her car was still in the garage and it was now shooting flames through the roof. Just great. She was now without a car as well. This fucking sucked.

The wailing sounds of the firetrucks and ambulance announced their arrival on scene. The firemen jumped out and scrambled to get their hoses out and aimed at the fire. She appreciated their efforts, but even she could see it was too late to salvage anything. If the smoke and fire didn’t ruin it, the water used to put it out would. At least she had insurance.

Her neighbor and son helped her to the ambulance to be checked out as another fit of coughing overtook her. The paramedics did a quick check and decided it would be worth a trip to the hospital to have a doctor look at her. The entire ride to the hospital, she wondered what could have caused the fire. It didn’t make sense.

At least all of her important papers and programs had been stored in the fireproof safe in her closet. As soon as the area was cleared, she could retrieve it. Until then there wasn’t anything more she could do.

Police Chief Whitener ended his call with Benny, the career criminal he’d hired to take care of Kylie and her backpack full of evidence. If the Sons of Redemption ever got their hands on what she’d found, it wouldn’t be just him that would be in trouble. Chet and whatever he was doing with the Phantom Furies MC would be in a world of hurt, too.

He scrubbed at his face roughly with both hands, exhaling heavily. He was so mentally exhausted from having to deal with the Phantoms and still trying to do his job. They were always on him to do more to get the Sons of Redemption MC out of the picture. From what he gathered, they wanted the Sons of Redemption out of the picture so they could take over the town.

Whitener wasn’t a big fan of the Sons of Redemption given they’d had more than their fair share of run ins, but compared to the Phantom Furies, he could honestly say he’d rather deal with the Sons any day. Ideally, he didn’t want any motorcycle club in his town.

When he’d started his job as the Chief of Police, he’d had such big ideas on how he was going to get the SORMC out of Redemption. As the years went on, he’d come to the conclusion that they weren’t going anywhere they didn’t want to go. Back then, they were a little more bloodthirsty than they were now. He wasn’t fooled into thinking they’d become respectable, law-abiding citizens no matter how many legitimate businesses they might open. His opinion was that they’d grown a lot better at hiding their crimes.

If he didn’t take care of Kylie Mason, he was fucked no matter which way he turned. He was facing prison time or death if he failed. Two very bad endings to his life. He wasn’t sure, but being an officer of the law in prison might be preferable to death at the hands of the Phantom Furies MC. If it came down to it, he’d end his own life before he surrendered to either of those fates.

He leaned back in his chair, staring at the wall, seeing nothing. He sifted through the conversation Benny gave him and cursed.

He’d gone to her house last night to take care of her and get the evidence. He found the backpack and her computer, but didn’t see a flash drive anywhere. In order to get rid of her and her information, he’d set her house on fire. The papers were gone, but Kylie had somehow made it out alive.

“You set her house on fire?”

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