Smoke

I STARED into the flames lapping hungrily at the wood siding. Fire is a living entity—breathing, all-consuming. It gives life to those in the know and offers death to the unwary. Fascinating. Mesmerizing. Rooted where I stood, I could only watch. I’d smelled the smoke, been drawn inexorably, just like when I was a kid. I was supposed to be with Digger, helping him finish what I’d started. Boner had sold us out. We were all hunting the sonavabitch.

“There’s an old man who lives in there!” Someone yelled and figures danced through the flickering shadows.

I heard the shouts, smelled the scorched hair stink rising from the crowd as onlookers panicked. An old man has lived his life. If he didn’t have the sense to get out before the inferno burst into being—

A figure detached herself from the darkness ringing the building. She sprinted toward the one entrance no wall of flame blocked. Leigh. And she was headed straight for a hell beyond her imagining.

Three strides. Four. On the fifth, I took her to the ground, pressed her flat beneath me as she fought.

“Let me go! There’s someone—”

“Be still, Leigh.”

She froze. “You!”

Not a question. An accusation. I could live with that, but I couldn’t live if she died in that building. “Stay here,” I ordered. “Promise me!”

I gave her enough space to roll to her side so she could see my face, could see my resolve. “I can’t. He could still be alive—”

“I’ll get him out but you have to promise to stay here. Promise. Me!” I gritted my teeth against the need to keep her safe, knowing I couldn’t be gentle.

Her eyes searched my face. She relaxed as much as she could, nodded. “Promise.”

“No matter what,” I pushed. “You stay out here. Wait for the trucks, for the firefighters. Promise me!”

“Yes. I promise. Just…get him.”

I didn’t stop to think. Didn’t consider the futility. Saving this unknown man was important to my woman, my…mate. I could do nothing else.

I left her with a hurried kiss, charging across the open ground and through that door. Acrid scents burned my nose, my lungs, but I didn’t stop my plunge into hell. Seconds turned to days, minutes to weeks, but I found the old man still breathing. I dragged him to the door and outside where the air was only slightly sweeter. I was about to take him farther away when I heard it. A whine, full of pain and desperation.

The old man coughed, spoke. “Momma dog. Pups.”

Shit. I left him crumpled on the ground. Returned to the nightmare. I followed the pitiful sound. Found her. A shepherd mix, maybe part wolf. Three pups. I stuffed them in my shirt, grabbed the female by the scruff of her neck with a growl. She stilled as I lifted her into my arms.

The fire breathed around us, hissing and snapping, angry at the intrusion. It reached fiery fingers toward me, brushed against my leather jacket but didn’t touch me. Pissed that it had missed, the hellish bitch stretched to the beams above my head. The ceiling collapsed in a shower of sparks, cutting me off from the door. I curled around the dogs. I’d failed them. Failed Leigh. She’d never know how much I loved her.

“I’m sorry, babe.”

 

 

Leigh

I STARED as the building collapsed. Sparks shot into the night sky, shooting stars of the most devastating kind.

I’m sorry, babe.

Standing there, frozen with horror, I waited. Smoke would come out. I’d heard his voice. He would walk through the flaming rubble, emerging like the phoenix.

He didn’t. Minutes went by. The hose teams from Stations 56 and 20 put water on the fire. A ladder truck arrived. More engines and hoses from Station 22. More water. But no Smoke.

The old transient sat nearby being treated by EMTs. He watched me, his rheumy eyes filled with tears.

“Momma dog and pups,” he wheezed. “He went back for ’em.”

My throat was too clogged with fear, burned too much from unshed tears to produce speech. My badass biker—the man I hadn’t trusted, the one I drove away and ultimately turned my back on because I thought he was a criminal—had run back into a burning building to save a stray dog and her puppies. How could I have been so wrong about him? My heart hurt and I rubbed at my chest. How could I not love a guy like that?

Someone gripped my shoulder, shook me.

“Daniels!”

I looked over at the fire chief. “He’s not coming out.” I felt dead inside.

“Until we bring out his body, this isn’t over.”

The chief had far more faith than I did.

I watched, thinking of happier times. Smoke’s voice whispered in my memory.

“I know what we can do.” He waggled his brows at me.

“I can just imagine,” I replied, thinking his idea would take us into the bedroom.

“You quit, get on the back of my bike, we ride off into the sunset.”

So easy, but too late now. The Universe’s joke was on me. The arson investigator and the arsonist. Doomed from the start.

 

 

Digger

“HE WENT BACK FOR ’EM,” the old man said. Fuckin’ fool. The Russian sent Smoke back here to redeem himself. We were going to take out the Dallas Hell Dogs once and for all and needed Smoke’s expertise to bring their clubhouse to the ground. Then his fuckin’ hero complex got in the way.

Rook walked up, stood at my shoulder. We both watched, waiting. It’d be a gawddamned miracle but Wolves were tough and Smoke was tougher than most. Still, we were here on business. I jerked my head toward the crowd. Rook nodded and we split up to mingle with them.

I got a chance to talk to the old guy when Rook arranged for a distraction and the EMTs took off.

“You’re like him,” the man rasped. “The one who started it.” That got my attention. The dude’s fingers scrabbled at my cut. “His said president. He set the fire. I tried to stop him. He pushed me down. Don’t remember anything after that, not ’til that young feller dragged me out.”

Fuck. Boner. Had to be. I signaled Rook and we took off. Smoke was on his own. For me? It was time to hunt.

 

 

Leigh

THE RISING SUN painted the eastern horizon in pale imitation of the fitful fire still burning. The building was a total loss. And I was a total wreck. An ambulance stood by just in case. Just in case Smoke walked out of what had been an inferno. Just in case the firefighters currently poking through the debris found his body.

My eyes felt like burning embers had been embedded in my lids when I rubbed them with the heels of my palms. No tears. They’d dried up hours ago. A firefighter from Station 22 walked up, stood beside me, silently watching the salvage and overhaul—only there was nothing to salvage.

“You should go home, Leigh.”

“Can’t. Not until I know for sure.”

“The captain got a call from the hospital. The old man is gonna be fine.”

“Good. That’s good.”

“C’mon. You need coffee. Red Cross is here.”

He herded me toward the canteen truck parked next to the R&R area set up for the firefighters and several already stood in line. Others sidled up behind us.

“Who bought it?”

“Supposedly the asshole who set the fire. Serves the sonavabitch right.”

I pivoted to confront the callous bastards—two cops stuck on guard duty and pissed about it. Before I could retort, a shout from the ruins had hope surging.

“Get the EMTs!”

I raced back, watched a man emerge. My heart clogged my throat and I couldn’t breathe. I stared, inching closer. But it wasn’t Smoke. It would never be Smoke ever again. I had to accept he was gone. And my heart fractured.