CHAPTER 4
When Jessie saw headlights in her rearview mirror, quickly approaching, she held her breath until she saw it was Blake. She told him not to follow her, but she was pleased to see it was him and not someone
else. Even if he was an uptight, Dudley Do-right, pest.
If he wanted to tail her home, she’d make him work for it. She punched the gas pedal and took off, speeding through town. Not the safest way to go about pissing him off, but at this hour of night, there wouldn’t be any traffic.
When he caught up, riding her ass, she could see his angry expression in the mirror. If he was anything, it was relentless. He kept up and trailed her all the way home, even pulled up behind her when she parked in her driveway.
Without even a glance his way, she got out of her car and went to the door. Before stepping in, she turned his direction and flipped him off in thanks. Flipping people off was pretty much Jessie’s way of communicating everything. Though she couldn’t see his face past the bright lights shining her way, she knew he saw her…she could feel his eyes on her.
Closing the door behind her, she leaned against it and let out a laugh. One of her greatest pleasures was getting under his skin. Her mood quickly changed when she pushed herself off the door, ready to head to bed, and something had her attention.
She stood still; there was something in the air, not a smell or sound, just something. Something was off, like someone had been there though she hadn’t a single idea how she sensed that. Intuition maybe?
Jessie remained calm, listening for movement or some sign that she wasn’t alone. But, it didn’t come – all she could hear was the sound of her own breathing. There was nothing noticeably out of place, she discovered, as she slowly made her way through the house.
Her cat, Flea Bag, should have greeted her by now and hadn’t. Another indication that something was terribly wrong. Where is Flea Bag
, she thought. Just come out and prove me wrong…please.
From the living room, she moved to the kitchen at the back of the house, following a faint odor that was all too familiar in her line of work but didn’t make sense…smoke. It wasn’t just any smoke; it was that which was emitted from burning wood. Living in the tree filled mountains where forest fires were almost an annual occurrence, that smell was unmistakable. Where was it coming from?
An odd glow, which she hadn’t noticed until now, drew her deeper into the kitchen and to the adjacent dining room window, grabbing her attention. A sense of anxiety rose like a warning bell. She didn’t know what she was about to discover, but her instincts told her she wasn’t going to like it – at all. It became brighter, bolder, unmistakable as its shadows danced across her dining room walls. Fire.
Confused, she stood staring, wondering just how and why there was a fire roaring in her backyard fire pit. She hadn’t started it before she left, nor would she have left it unattended. She was a firefighter and knew better. The trees surrounding her property were perfect fire fuel – especially this time of year as they were heading into fire season.
There wasn’t any movement outside along the tree line, but she suddenly felt vulnerable, like someone was watching her. Or could be, anyway. She backed into the shadows of her house, watching the fire grow, wondering who started it and why. Deep down, she knew. The fire, symbolic of a campfire, gave it away. She was almost certain of it.
She had been counting down the days until he would be a threat again – he found her faster than she thought he would. Hitting speed dial, she slowly lifted her phone to her ear, waiting for him to answer. Surely, he would; he had to. When he did, all she could whisper was, help.
“She’s such a pain in the ass. Why do I always drop everything for her?” Blake asked the only one listening – his dog. “She’s rude, no crude
, not an ounce of feminine charm...at all
.”
Baby whined, tilting her head, clearly confused by the conversation they were having on the drive home.
“I always have to…protect
her. Why can’t I just leave her alone like she wants
me to, Baby?”
Baby laid down, resting her head, keeping her eyes on Blake. Another little whine escaped her, getting his attention.
“I know what you’re thinking, and you’re wrong. I don’t like her – especially like that.
Oh, what do you know; you’re still too new here…and you’re a…girl.”
Blake knew exactly why he continued to look after her, to protect her. Jessie infuriated him with her foul mouth and rude behavior, but deep down, he understood why she was the way she was. Somehow, that knowledge earned her an ungodly amount of grace and a free pass to be an asshole. Anyone who had been through what she had – and survived it – deserved a lot of patience.
She loved as hard as her exterior façade appeared to be tough – she simply didn’t want anyone to know just how much she cared because that left a person as vulnerable as a sheep in a pack of wolves. The last time she outwardly cared – it nearly killed her and left her with scars that ran so deep he was sure she would have rather died. He understood that depth of pain – the vulnerability – the fear of love,
better than anyone.
It was the source of his own façade – why the world was always at arm’s length – why he loved from a distance. It was also why he kept tabs on his people
and protected them so fiercely. He didn’t want them to know the kind of pain he knew – so did what he could to keep them safe from pretty much everything. He failed before, and he’d carry that burden and sadness for the rest of his life – he wouldn’t fail those he loved again.
His phone rang, pulling him from his thoughts. He rolled his eyes when he saw the name scroll across the screen – Jessie probably wasn’t done flipping him the bird and wanted to deliver the verbal version of such. His thumb hovered over the red button on the screen that would send her away, but that odd tingle that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up was nagging at him to answer.
“What now?” he chided.
Her voice stalled. He could only hear her breathing until she finally whispered, “Help.”
Déjà vu, almost, it was exactly what she had said earlier in the evening to summons him to diaper duty. Yet, something about the wavering in her voice and sense of fear kept him on the line.
“You said that earlier, and I was assaulted by a toddler with a…”
“Blake…” There was that fear again. “I’m serious. Someone…someone has…been here.”
“If I get there, and it’s just to clean Flea Bag’s litter box…”
“Flea Bag is missing – there’s a fire – please…hurry.” Her voice cracked on her last words.
She wasn’t kidding this time; he could hear it in her voice and feel it in his gut. Making a quick U-turn, he floored it, headed back to her house. One key word tipped him off – there was a fire. He knew what that meant as well as she did. The fact that Flea Bag wasn’t in the house was another clue as he was strictly an indoor pet. She mothered the shit out of that cat and barely let him out on a leash due to all the wildlife in the area.
“I’m on my way. Stay on the phone,” he said. When she didn’t answer, he went faster. “Jessie? Answer me.”
“I…I’m here. I don’t understand – why the fire. Why did he start the fire? What does it mean?” she rambled.
“Who, Jessie? Why did who start the fire?” he questioned, giving her a chance to tell him what he already knew. It would be so much easier that way than carrying around this secret.
“No…no one. Just whoever d-did it.”
“Jess, if you know something…”
Her heavy panicked breathing came through the phone before her words. “I don’t, okay? Why aren’t you here yet?”
He forgave her sharp harsh tone, expected it, really. As much as she needed him in that moment, she was pushing him away from her truth. She was scared.
“I’m almost there. Where are you in the house?” he asked, trying to keep her focused.
“Din…dining room corner. There…there might be someone…in the woods.”
“Do you see someone?”
“No, uh, I just feel it,” she replied.
“Okay. It’s okay. Just stay right where you are. I’m out front. You’re going to hear me come in the front door. Okay?”
“Okay,” she agreed.
“I’ll clear the house first, then I’ll come for you. Don’t. Move.”
“O-k-kay.”
His heart pinched at the fear drenched sound in her voice. “Jessie?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Okay? You’re safe.”
She heard the door open but could barely hear him move through the house. If she didn’t know he was there, she probably wouldn’t have heard him at all. He was being Blake – covert ops – undercover military – Blake, doing what he did best. He was protecting her.
The house was clear, no sign of forced entry or evidence that anyone had even been there. He went to her – the sight of her huddled into the dark corner, trembling in fear, crushed him. Jessie was strong and fierce; this experience had left her anything but. After holstering his weapon, he pulled her into his arms, both of them letting out a sigh of relief. As quickly as he had her in his arms, he then had her at arm’s length, looking her over, making sure she was all in one piece.
“Are you okay?” he asked, looking over his shoulder at the roaring fire through the window.
“Yeah, just…” she choked a little on her words, choosing not to finish.
“I know,” he said, and he did
know. He knew exactly what had riled her because it was exactly what had him watching her, even from a distance, night and day.
“You didn’t start that fire?” he asked, turning his attention in the fire’s direction.
“Of course not – do you think I’m stupid enough to leave a fire unattended? Besides, it just started when I got here – it was just taking off.”
“I’ll go look around out there – you stay here and lock the door behind me.” He drew his weapon again and went out back.
Despite his specific instructions to stay put, inside, and lock the door, she followed him outside.
“I said stay inside,” he scolded in a low voice.
“Yeah, well, I’m going where the gun goes.”
He walked in front of her and tucked her behind him. “Fair enough. Stay behind me.”
Weapon aimed with a bright flashlight right below, he scanned the perimeter of the property, watching for any sign of menace.
Slowly moving forward, they reached the fire when a meow startled them – Flea Bag. He was sitting in one of the outdoor chairs surrounding the fire. She hadn’t seen him because the back of the chair faced the house, blocking her furry companion.
“Were you enjoying the fire, boy?” she scooped up her cat and snuggled him close, taking the seat he had been sitting in.
“I said, stay behind me…”
“I’m checking Flea over. I need to make sure he is okay,” she defended.
“Fine. Stay there
! I mean it…” he replied before walking the perimeter of the property, looking for anything or anyone out of place.
When he returned, he slid his flashlight in his back pocket and holstered his weapon though he kept his hand resting on it. “There’s no evidence suggesting there was anyone in the house, and I don’t see anything unusual out here, but it’s dark. I’ll look again in the morning.”
“But the fire…” she added.
“Maybe a prank? You’re not exactly nice to everyone; kids are out on summer break…could be…anything.
” He knew better than to think it was a prank, but he didn’t want her to worry all night because he sure as hell wasn’t relieving her of any worry by telling her he already planned on sleeping in his car up the street tonight. Watching her house.
“And you’re McKenzie Ridge’s finest?” she questioned, not sold on his assessment as she held up a box of wood stick matches.
“Okay. It’s a box of matches. So, whoever started the fire left their matches. That doesn’t prove anyone was inside or that this is more than a prank. It’s obviously kids if they left evidence.” He was failing miserably at explaining this incident away as anything other than what it was – a targeted message – a warning – a threat
.
“Really? Well, Flea bag can’t unlock doors, much less open them. Oh, or lock them from the outside. He’s an indoor cat, hates it out here.” She pointed out the obvious, then dropped the bomb. “And it’s not like him to start a fire and wait for a tray of s’mores.”
“He could have slipped out when you left,” Blake reasoned, knowing full well she was right
.
“Okay then. Explain this…” She held up the box of matches again. “These are from my kitchen drawer.”