Beautiful Burn (The Maddox Brothers #4) (23 page)

“You’re not coming with me?”

His eyebrows pulled together. “I have a job to do, Ellie. You have to go home.”

My eyes filled with tears. “I don’t have anywhere to go.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a single key, the light glinting off the silver. “Lone Tree Village in Estes. 111 F. We’re never there, so it’s mostly storage. I’m not even sure if there are sheets on my bed. It’s not a penthouse, but it’s a place to stay. My bedroom is the last door on the left.”

I took the key, sniffing. “Tyler…”

“Just … take it,” he said. “I’ll be home in a couple of weeks. We can figure it out then.” He stepped back, waving to me before turning for the elevator.

“I thought you were supposed to make sure I get in the car?” I asked.

He stopped in his tracks but didn’t turn around. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I can watch you leave.”

My bottom lip trembled, and I held the key to the sensor, hearing the lock click before I pressed down on the handle and pushed through. My clothes were still laid out, ready to go, but I would be lucky to ever get to go on a call again.

The wall felt cold against my back as I slid down the scuffed white paint to the aged orange and brown carpet. My phone buzzed, and I held it to my ear.

“Ellie?” Jojo said.

I covered my face with my hand. “I fucked up, Jojo,” I said, pressing my lips together to stifle a sob.

“You’re right. You did. Now you need to pack your things and get right back on the wagon. Do you hear me?”

“Do I still have a job?”

“You know you do. I’m not saying what you did is okay, but it’s an uphill battle. You lost this one. Come home, and let’s start preparing for the next one.”

My face crumbled, and I took in a deep breath. “I don’t deserve it, but thank you,” I whispered.

“Hang up, pack, and get downstairs. The car will be there soon. When you get home, go straight to bed and I’ll pick you up for work first thing in the morning. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Stand up. Clean slate starts now.”

I took a deep breath, simultaneously standing and pressing
END
. It didn’t take long to pack the few things I’d laid out, and then I was out the door, taking the stairs instead of the elevator.

Darby dropped the marker she was using for her newest doodle masterpiece, and stood up. “Ellie? Are you okay?”

I paused at her desk, placing my key card in front of her. “Yeah. I have to leave.”

“You have to? Why?”

“I screwed up. I’m being sent home.”

Darby shook her head in disbelief even when she’d heard it from me. “Screwed up how? Just because you were drinking?”

“It’s a long story,” I said. “Trex can explain it to you.”

“If you ever come back … be sure to stop by and say hi.”

I smiled. “I will.”

A man older than my father, who dressed like a Baptist preacher and smelled like cheap aftershave, offered a contrived smile before taking my backpack. The cowlick on the top of his white hair was misbehaving, despite what looked like a quarter cup of gel he’d combed through it.

I waited for him to open the door, but he opened the trunk and threw in my bag. I opened the door myself, thinking the sticky carpet and trash tucked in the back of the passenger seat was the perfect ride for a woman who’d just left county jail.

The two and half hours to Estes Park seemed especially long when having to breathe in the smell of mothballs and possibly a fart or two. When we reached city limits, the driver turned his head while still keeping his eyes on the road.

“Do you have an address?”

“Lone Tree Village. Building F.”

He sighed. “Do you have an address?”

“Hang on,” I said, looking through my phone. “Thirteen-ten Manford Avenue.”

The driver poked at his GPS and then sat back, resuming his mission to ignore me.

We passed through a part of town I was unfamiliar with, and then turned onto a side road, driving for another two minutes. The Lone Tree Village sign made me feel excited for half a second, but then I remembered most of the things I’d taken from my parents were still at the Alpine barracks, and all that I had was inside my backpack.

The driver drove straight to the back where Tyler’s building sat. He rounded the back and then pulled into the first free parking space he found.

I stepped out onto the asphalt and waited for the driver to fetch my backpack. He handed it to me and turned for his door.

“Excuse me?” I said, following him.

He turned, annoyed. “It’s been taken care of.”

“Oh,” I said, watching him open the door and sit behind the wheel. I took a step back when he reversed, watching him drive away and then looking up at building F.

111 was upstairs, so I climbed the first set, turned at the landing, and climbed another. Some of the clay-colored slats of the vinyl siding were missing, but it was in a nice neighborhood and the outside lawn was manicured—not that I was in any position to be fussy.

I pulled Tyler’s key from my pocket and twisted it in the bolt lock. The mechanism clicked, and my heart began to pound. Standing in front of Tyler’s apartment, preparing to enter his personal space for the first time without him there, felt wrong.

The knob felt cold and unwelcoming in my hand, but I twisted it anyway, pushing through the beige door to a living room full of furniture and boxes. Tyler had warned me that the apartment was serving as a storage unit, but there were several stacks, leaving a walkway to a kitchen on the left and a hallway straight ahead.

I followed the path to the hall, feeling along the wall for a light switch. When my fingertips touched the toggle, I pressed up, illuminating a twenty-foot-long hall with eggshell walls and beige carpet—two doors on the right, and one on the left. I pushed through the closest to find a bathroom. I dropped my backpack and quickly unbuttoned my jeans, shoving them down to my knees, sitting on the cold toilet seat and moaning as I relieved myself for the first time in almost twelve hours.

The faucet took a while to offer warm water. I looked around before resorting to drying my hands on my jeans. I gripped the edge of the sink as I tried to wait out the nausea and dizziness overwhelming me. I breathed in and was instantly comforted—the apartment smelled like Tyler.

With my bag in hand, I stopped at the end of the hall between two doors. I pushed the one on the right, seeing a room with more stacks of boxes, a stripped bed, and a nightstand. The door Tyler said was his was closed, so I twisted the knob and walked through, the door hitting a stack of boxes and knocking all but two of them to the ground.

“Shit,” I hissed, dropping my bag to reassemble them.

I wiped my brow, and then walked across the room to open a window. A fresh breeze blew into my face, and I closed my eyes, taking in a deep breath. I had been banished from the only place I’d felt at home, cast away from the only people who felt like family. I was alone inside a dusty storage house of a man whose dick I was more familiar with than his hopes and dreams.

I rested my elbow on the windowsill, unable to fight the fluttering of my eyes. From that vantage point, I could see the mountains that huddled around the barracks. My eyes filled with tears, and they spilled out and over my cheeks, unrelenting until my entire body began to shake. I wanted to be in that rickety building with cold showers and uncomfortable beds so bad it hurt. I sniffed a few times and wiped my nose with my wrist, licking my lips, wishing for another five or six rounds of vodka tonic—hell, I’d have been happy with a twelve-pack of cheap beer, anything to make the pain go away.

I leaned against the wall, trying to keep the landscape in sight, but the only thing to do was to thirst for what I couldn’t have, and close my eyes.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Jojo clicked her seat belt and pulled away from the curb, mostly silent as she drove me to the
MountainEar
. Just a block away, she finally sighed and began to speak, but thought better of it. Her silence was welcomed. I knew what she was going to say, and she knew that I knew what she was going to say. People spoke too much and said nothing, which was the only conversation Jojo and I would have if she hadn’t closed her mouth.

She parked and gestured for me to follow her in. “Desk is still there. You remember how to do this?”

“I don’t see Wick’s truck,” I said.

“He’ll be in later. He has a meeting with some vendors.”

“For Turk’s?” I asked, swallowing. My throat begged for the burn of whiskey—anything to quiet the craving I’d had since my eyes opened that morning.

“Yeah. You didn’t go straight to bed, did you?”

“I tried.”

“You fucked up. Believe me, I’m not excusing what you did. But Daddy has been getting a lot of calls about your feature. I bet the Forestry Service is, too.” She opened the door, and I followed her inside, pausing until she switched on all the lights.

“Chief was right to make me go home. I wasn’t of any use there, and I made him look bad. I wouldn’t blame him if he banned me from ever shadowing them again.”

I walked into my office and Jojo followed, leaning her platinum locks against the doorjamb. “Me neither. But I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t. When are they due back?”

“It’s a political fire. A lot of news stations covering it. They’ll be out the full fourteen days.”

She stood. “If there are a lot of stations covering, maybe I should go down there.”

Anger and jealousy ignited every vein in my body. Jojo had a family … She needed to stay the fuck away from mine. “They wouldn’t let me up there, Jojo, and I’m seasoned. I know their procedures and a little bit about fire behavior. No offense, but they’re not going to let you on the mountain.”

She winked at me. “When have I ever taken no for an answer?”

I forced a smile, glaring at the space she stood in before she rounded the corner to her desk. Just minutes later, I could hear her on the phone, squaring away the details of her coverage of the Alpine crew.

My eyes burned, but I willed away the tears, refusing to cry in front of Jojo. I typed in my password, feeling like the day I’d updated it was a lifetime ago—so full of hope that I was capable of change.

Jojo’s phone slammed, and she peeked around the doorway again. “Can you hold down the fort this week? I’m going south.”

“Are they going to let you cover the Alpines?”

She smirked. “They don’t know it yet, but yes. The Colorado Springs hotel, right?”

I nodded, holding a brave face until Jojo waved and the back door slammed shut. My face crumbled, and I covered my face with my hands, sucking in deep breaths.

It wasn’t so surprising that I had fucked up, but that I had ruined something for myself that I loved. That thought led me to Tyler, and I knew I was ruining that, too. There was a dark part of me that just couldn’t let myself be happy, and sabotaged anything good before I could lose it.

The phone warbled, and I sat up, cleared my throat, and picked up the receiver. “
The MountainEar
,” I said, my voice breaking a bit.

“How’s your first day back?” Tyler said. His deep, smooth voice made everything else disappear.

I wiped my wet cheeks, clearing my throat again. “It’s great. Home sweet home.”

“How’s the apartment?”

“It’s great. Thank you.”

“Did you go there?” he asked. I could almost see the look of disbelief on his face.

“Yeah. Yeah, I went there. You do have sheets on your bed, and they’re clean.”

He sighed. “Ellie…”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t know. I miss you like crazy. Being on the mountain, wreaking of smoke, exhausted and covered in dirt is my favorite place to be, but it’s not the same without you. Something’s missing now.”

“The sheriff?” I teased.

He breathed out a laugh. “I’m serious. I wrote you a letter. All the guys are giving me so much hell.”

“Taylor most of all, I’m sure.”

“The fire’s so close, we’re taking shifts and staying at the hotel.”

“You’re not sleeping at fire camp?”

“Nope. Taylor’s been taking off into town somewhere. I think there’s a girl.”

“There’s always a girl.”

“Not one intriguing enough to hang around during the few hours we have off from a fire.”

“You probably haven’t heard yet, but you will. Jojo’s on her way to cover the Alpines.”

“Jojo?” Tyler said her name with disdain. “Why?”

“I told her about all of the news outlets covering the fire. She thought the magazine should have someone there.”

He sighed. “Fuck, Ellie, I’m sorry. I know that has to hurt.”

My chest felt heavy, and my eyes began to burn again. “I did it to myself.”

“Doesn’t make it suck any less.”

“You’re right.”

He was quiet for a moment. “I wish I was there.”

“Me, too.”

“Twelve days, Ellison. I’m coming for you in twelve days.”

“Tyler?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been thinking about drinking. A lot.” When he didn’t respond, I continued, “I don’t think this is going to be as easy as I thought it would be.”

“Who is that woman who kicked you out of your house?”

“My mother?”

“No, the other one.”

My cheeks flushed just thinking about her. “Sally.”

“Yeah. Her. You should call her. You have her number, don’t you?”

I rubbed my temple with my index and middle fingers. “She doesn’t work for my parents anymore.”

“Even better.”

“I’m not asking her for help, Tyler. I loathe her. I refuse to give her the satisfaction.”

“You’re saying it’s wrong for her to feel satisfied about helping you? I think that’s the nature of her job.”

“Satisfied in the way a scheming, smug, rat-faced cunt would be satisfied, not a life coach.”

“Well … maybe you can just try to stay busy. Keep your mind off it until I get there.”

I considered his suggestion, one project immediately coming to mind. “Your apartment needs some work.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“I’m serious. That will take me at least twelve days. Can I unpack for you?”

“No.”

“Please? It will look like a real apartment when you get back.”