Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 119152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
“The house. Can you save the house?” Her eyes flutter closed.
“I saved the only thing that matters, sweetheart.”
Claire eyes me, and I snap, “Don’t even.”
“Wasn’t gonna say a thing.” That damn smirk says otherwise.
While they get Makayla into the ambulance, I run over to Brady. “Finish up here. I want a full report. Where it started, why—everything.”
“You got it. The house is old as fuck. It’s going up pretty fast. But we’ll know more once we get it under control.”
I nod, jog back to the street, and climb into the ambulance. The wound on her thigh looks bad. Her hands are wrapped, but before Claire bandaged them, I could see blisters forming. “You’re gonna be okay, you hear me?”
Her eyes flutter, but she can’t keep them open. “I was hiding.”
I lean in, unsure what she’s talking about. “What do you mean?”
“He was coming for me. He was going to hurt me again. I was hiding. He can’t find me over there.”
What the fuck? Who’s she hiding from? Who’s trying to hurt her? “Makayla, who’s trying to hurt you?” She doesn’t answer me.
“Morphine. It’s a hell of a drug,” Claire says, checking her vitals. “I swore I saw Jim Morrison once on it.” I shoot her a look. “Yep. Be quiet. Just doin’ my job. Unlike you who just left the scene—”
“Seriously?”
“What?” She chuckles. “Never seen you so dedicated to a victim before.”
“She’s not a victim.” She’s feisty. And snarky. And beautiful. “She’s not a victim,” I repeat, still stuck on her statement. Is someone trying to hurt her?
I don’t take my eyes off her until we get to the hospital. They wheel her in, and I’m forced to step away. When my phone rings, I dread the call I knew was coming. “Chief—”
“What the hell were you thinking leaving a scene before the fire was out? Not to mention in an ambulance! Your ass better have lost a fucking limb.”
“Sorry, Chief. It was—it was my girlfriend.” Shit, what did I just say?
“Girlfriend? Since when the hell do you have a girlfriend?”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Wallace, girlfriend or your mommy, you don’t leave a scene. What does that say about you as my captain?”
Stay focused and desensitized.
“It sets a bad example. I take full responsibility for my actions and their repercussions.”
Chief scoffs over the phone. “Oh, shut up. Pull this shit again, and I’ll have your rank pulled. Now, the second my wife gets wind of this, she’s going to make me invite you and this girlfriend over for dinner. So, watch who you give this information to. I don’t need to see more of you outside the station.” He hangs up on me, and I chuckle as I slip my phone back into my jacket sleeve. It’s a hard job being the chief’s favorite. And after doing his wife that favor, I’ve leveled up to golden boy in his eyes.
“Captain Wallace?”
I twist around at the sound of my name. “Ms. Fischer is awake and all stitched up. No damage to any muscle tissue on the thigh. She burnt her hands pretty good, but she should heal just fine with ointment and proper cleaning.”
“Smoke damage?”
“Her lungs sound a bit cloudy, but that’s normal for someone who’s ingested that much smoke. Nothing that worries me, but I’m requesting an overnight stay to make sure.”
I nod, feeling a little relief. “Thanks. Can I see her?”
“Of course.” I follow the doctor back, and we enter Makayla’s room. Seeing her lying there, vulnerable, makes my stomach tighten with worry.
I grab the chair and pull it up next to her bed. Her eyes flutter open. “Hey there.”
“Hey,” she whispers, adjusting herself. “Why do I feel like I have lobster claws instead of hands?” She raises both hands.
“Not gonna lie. Never knew how sexy lobster claws were until now. Kind of got a chub starin’ at ’em.” She rolls her eyes and teeters on a laugh, but it’s cut short by a hoarse cough. “Shit, sorry. No jokes. Just relax.”
She eases back onto the bed and closes her eyes. Inhaling a slow breath, she whispers, “Ben?” Her eyes open. “Do you know what happened?”
I lean forward, brushing a piece of soot-covered hair behind her ear. “I don’t, sweetheart, but I will.” My eyes can’t help but peek at her lips. Fuck, do I want to kiss her.
“I know the house is old, but I don’t understand how it could have started—”
“Hey.”
We both turn to Jenny as she stands in the doorway. “How are you doing?”
“Fine. Except they cut my hands off and replaced them with lobster claws. How I’m going to hold a glass of wine ever again is beyond me.”
Jenny laughs, brushing away a tear. “How are you even joking? You scared me to death.” She walks in and stands on the other side of Makayla’s bed. “Makayla, I have to tell you something.” The color drains from her face while she fidgets with her hands.