Trial by Fire (31 page)

Dying.

“Howard!”

Funny, the pain was lessening. Just flowing out like blood from a wound. He’d heard death was surprisingly easy, and guessed it must be true.

“Lieutenant, where are you?”

Except for leaving Kat. Sadness washed over him, regret thicker than the smoke snuffing out his life. He wished he’d had time to make things right between them. Earn one more chance with the lady who meant everything to him.

I don’t know if I can forget, Howard. Ever.

Tell her . . .

“Howard? Oh, God,” someone cried. “He’s over here!”

Sean?

Boots crunched through the mess toward him. Ripe curses cut the gloom. The pressure of the tank was removed from his back. Hands turned him over, slow and gentle, onto something hard. A backboard. Then he was being lifted, the sensation of flying as he was carried outside. Into the cool night air caressing his scorched face.

Air he still couldn’t draw into his lungs.

More sirens. Dozens of them. Too late.

He felt himself being lowered. His coat was shoved open, his shirt torn in two. A mask placed over his face, fingers pressed into the hollow of his throat, checking for a pulse.

“Not working! Get him intubated, dammit!”

“Come on, old friend, stay with us.”

With every last ounce of willpower, he tried to obey.

And lost.

“Sweet Jesus, he’s not breathing! Six-Pack, don’t . . .”

His friends’ insistent shouts faded into nothingness.

Kat blinked awake, not quite sure what had jerked her from a bout of fitful tossing. A noise? She listened, not hearing anything except the low hum of the ceiling fan overhead.

Lord, it was hot in here tonight, even naked. How weird. Normally, she enjoyed bundling in the covers.

Or she had until a few days ago, snuggling into Howard’s big, warm body. Self-pity and loneliness knifed her breast. Was he lonely, too? Maybe he’d taken up with the lithe, toned Janine after all, and was well on his way to forgetting all about the few weeks they’d spent together.

A distant cry gave her goose bumps, and she sat upright in bed, trying to place the sound. The wail grew louder and she recognized the cacophony of sirens, the low, repeated honking of engine horns miles away. Lots of emergency vehicles, heading for some terrible tragedy. Was Howard among them? She shivered, skin crawling. She hated that awful din, always had. It meant someone’s life had been shattered, perhaps lost.

As the sound faded once more, she settled in bed again, no longer hot. In fact, she was chilled to the bone.

Sleep didn’t come easily, but she managed to drift off after a while, thankful it was Saturday and she could sleep late. Or so she thought, until persistent rapping filtered into her drugged brain. She groaned. Whoever had decided to hammer early on a Saturday morning was so dead.

Rap, rap, rap.
Pause.
Rap, rap, rap, rap.

Louder. Not hammering . . . someone knocking on her door.

Could it be? “Oh, my gosh!”

Howard had shown up after shift change before, when he was upset and needing her. Who else could it be? Maybe he wanted to plead his case. Talk, work things out. Damn her traitorous heart, she wanted that, too. Was it too soon to cave after what he did?

Okay,
almost
did. The memory still hurt like hell, though.

Stumbling out of bed, she slipped on a big T-shirt, finger-combed her hair into submission, then padded for the door. She didn’t have a clue what she’d say to him. How hard of a line to take.

“I’m coming.” Peering through the peephole, she frowned in puzzlement, then unlocked and opened the door. Blinking, she stared right into Eve Marshall’s face. Her sooty, grime-covered face, streaked with sweat. Howard’s teammate wore navy regulation pants and a SFD polo, which were nearly as dirty as her skin. The visit was so out of context, she was at a loss.

“Eve! What a—a surprise! How did you know where I lived?”

“Phone book,” she said simply, voice tired. Strained. “Can I come in?”

“Oh! Of course.” Stepping aside, she let the other woman pass. “Is this . . . about Howard?”

“Yeah.” Eve swiped a hand down her face. “Kat—”

“Wait. You’re here to run interference, right? Tell me he’s miserable, he can’t live without me, blah, blah.” She snorted a bitter laugh. “Well, you tell lover boy he can bite the bullet and face me like a man.”

“Kat.”

“Not that I’m interested in anything he has to say, you know. He can just burn in—”

“Kat.” Eve’s mouth trembled, her voice shook.

Kat’s hand went over her mouth. She knew that look of pity, the one always accompanied by
I’m so sorry
and
Is there anything I can do?
Truth be told, she’d known the second she saw Eve standing at her door. The ground shifted under her feet.

“What’s happened to him? Eve?”

“There’s been an explosion. Three of our guys were injured, but Howard was caught directly in the blast.”

All those sirens, piercing the darkness.
An explosion.

“H-he’s dead.” God, no, please.

“No, but he’s hurt pretty badly. By the time Sean and Tommy got him out of the rubble, he’d inhaled too much smoke and wasn’t breathing.” Eve sniffed, a tear leaking from the corner of one eye. “Damn doctor won’t tell us shit.”

To see this tough, no-nonsense woman cry spoke volumes about how bad Howard’s injuries were. He’d almost died, and wasn’t out of the woods yet. Kat had never been more terrified in all her life.

“I have to go to him,” she whispered.

“Get dressed and I’ll drive you.”

“Okay.” On impulse, she stepped forward and wrapped the other woman in a hug. “Thank you for coming.”

After a brief hesitation, Eve returned the hug, patting her back awkwardly. “You deserved better than a phone call. Six-Pack loves you, even if he hasn’t said so.” Pulling back, she offered Kat a watery smile. “I’ve known the man for years and I’ve never seen him so down and out. You’ve brought the big guy to his knees, girlfriend.”

“Right. He’s so
in love
, I busted him about to drill another woman three days after we broke up.”

“Oh, ouch.” Eve grimaced. “What did he have to say?”

“That he’d changed his mind and was going to send her home. Under the circumstances, what else
would
he say?”

“He was telling you the truth,” Eve replied. “Howard is the most honest man I know. If he’d intended to go through with having sex, he’d have admitted it to your face. Even though it would’ve broken your heart, he would’ve told you, because he never hides behind lies.”

“Okay,” Kat said slowly. “Given how well I’ve come to know Howard, I believe you. But he was going to have sex with someone else, before his conscience interfered. Can’t you understand how hard that is to just blow off?”

“Better than you know. I suppose the question now is whether you believe his love is worth fighting for.”

Those words and the recollection of Howard begging her not to go haunted her as she headed for the bedroom. If he didn’t survive, would he die thinking she hadn’t loved him enough to work past their crisis? To be patient and support him, help him slay his inner demons, despite his resistance?

No! He’d make it, and she wouldn’t leave him alone and hurting one moment longer than necessary. In five minutes, Kat was dressed in jeans, tennis shoes, and a long-sleeved cotton shirt.

On the way to the hospital, she began to assimilate what Eve told her about the blast. And what she hadn’t. An awful suspicion formed. “Was the explosion intentional?”

The other woman’s slender hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Yes. According to the cops, a homemade device had been placed in the victim’s bedroom.”

“Bedroom? This was another killing courtesy of the bastard tormenting Howard?”

“That’s right,” Eve spat, her anger at the unknown monster obvious. “He called Howard on his cell phone this time, put the woman on the line. Six-Pack had to listen to her scream for help, knowing there wasn’t a fucking thing he could do.”

“My God! Who was she?” Knowing the helpless anger he must’ve felt, she ached for him.

“No clue. He’ll have lots of questions to answer when he wakes up.”

When, not if.
That mantra kept her sane the rest of the drive. As Eve pulled into the parking lot, she remembered others had been injured. “Who else was hurt? Are they all right?”

“Lord.” Eve blew out a breath, tucking a curly strand of dark hair behind her ear. “Sean and the battalion chief were thrown to the ground, but they’re both too mean to get hurt. Especially Sean. Zack was blown backward into the side of the quint. Ended up with the wind knocked out of him, some scrapes and bruises. Julian took more of the brunt. He came hauling ass out the front door after Tommy, just as the house blew. Caught a board in the back of the head. Hit so hard his hat cracked.”

“Is he okay?” She liked Julian, even if he had put the moves on her sister. She wondered how Grace would take the news.

“Knocked him cold. He sustained a nasty concussion and they’re talking about keeping him overnight. He’ll recover, thank God.” Eve parked, shut off the ignition.

“Good, I’m glad. What about you and the others?”

“Tommy said Julian saw a message spray painted on the wall, and Howard yelled at them to get out. Howard punched out the bedroom window and yelled to take cover, so the rest of us were able to get clear before the house blew.”

And now Howard might die because of his sacrifice.

In the ER waiting area, they found the rest of the team.

“Go home, Knight,” Sean was saying. “We’ll let you know how they’re doing, I promise.”

“No can do, Cap.”

“You almost broke your back, goddammit! We need you healthy.”

“I’m fine.” Zack turned and noticed the women. Eve gave him a fierce hug, which drew a frown from Sean. Clearing his throat, Zack deftly changed the subject. “Kat, it’s good to see you again, though I wish it weren’t like this.”

“Me, too,” she choked out. “Has anyone heard news about Howard?”

“Doctor finally showed a few minutes ago,” Sean said, raking a hand through his dark brown hair. “He’s been upped from critical to guarded, but stable. They’re treating him for smoke inhalation, which is definitely the worst of his injuries. His lungs are in rough shape, but he doesn’t think there’s permanent damage.”

Kat’s knees went weak. “Oh, thank the Lord.”

“And all His angels. We almost lost him.” Sean blew out a breath. “His other wounds are minor in comparison. A shallow six-inch cut starting on his right hand and running up his arm from smashing out the bedroom window. No stitches, due to his gloves and coat.”

“Man, if he hadn’t done that, Eve might’ve been fried,” Tommy said. “She was standing, like,
right next
to the house.” A round of agreement for the lieutenant’s bravery ensued.

When the murmurs calmed, Sean continued. “He’s also got a mild concussion, a dislocated shoulder, a cracked rib, and bruising all along his right side. After a week or two of rest, he’ll be good as new. All told, he got damned lucky.”

Yes, he had. They all had. If Howard still wanted a second chance, she was ready to try for them both. He needed her, and she planned to make sure he rested and was well taken care of.

“How’s Julian?” Eve asked Sean.

“Awake and sweet-talking the nurses.” Sean finally cracked a small smile, and the effect softened his harsh features. Made him appear almost handsome. “I think he’s already made a date.”

The group laughed halfheartedly, keeping their voices low. Relief for their two fallen brothers was palpable, but no one felt like celebrating just yet.

Kat fidgeted, glancing around. She’d been so upset she hadn’t noticed several small groups of hovering men, some police officers, some in regulation navy pants and shirts. The ones in uniform were B-shift, she guessed, hanging out here to wait for news about Howard and Jules, or for a call, whichever came first.

She didn’t see Detective Ford, and wondered if he’d already been here. If so, he’d be back to talk with Howard about the latest killing—which had escalated into an attempt on many innocent lives.

Suddenly anxious, she laid a hand on Sean’s arm. “Can I see him?”

“Soon. Bentley and Georgie are taking turns sitting with him until he wakes up.” Sean covered her hand with his, striking green eyes warm and understanding. “Don’t go far, though. I know he’s going to ask for you the second he’s able.”

Hours passed as cops took information for reports, then drifted out. Detective Ford came and went, promising to stop by again to speak with Howard. The B-shift team got a call and had to leave, and hadn’t been able to make it back. An assortment of people trooped in and out, some Kat had met at Bentley’s party, all there to support the family.

Strange, but nobody had arrived to claim Julian. Didn’t he have family or at least a concerned lady friend?

All the while, she sat in a corner of the waiting area next to Eve and Zack, seizing this new connection of their friendship like a lifeline. She felt so out of place. Unnecessary. These people had known and loved Howard for years; she only a few weeks.

What if he didn’t want to see her? What right did she have to stay? Maybe she should call Grace for a ride home.

“Kat? Thank heavens you’re here!” Hurrying across the waiting area, Georgie launched herself at Kat with no little enthusiasm and wrapped her in a hug. “How are you, dear? If I’d known you were waiting, I’d have fetched you sooner.”

For such a tiny woman, she had an embrace of steel and a will to match. Her son had almost been killed and she was asking after Kat’s well-being? “I’m fine. How are you and Bentley?”

Releasing her, Georgie offered a wan smile. “Could be worse. We have our son, and at the moment that’s all we can ask for. Well, that and a certain lunatic’s head on a rusty spike.”

Kat had to fight down a smile. The situation wasn’t anywhere near funny, but Georgie was an amazing, wonderful person. Kat hoped she’d get to know her much better.

“I agree. The police are going to catch this monster, and when they do, he’ll never get out of prison.”

“Right you are. In the meantime, my son needs you,” she declared. “He’s been saying your name for the past ten minutes, but his father and I can’t seem to rouse him. They’ve moved him to a private room. Would you mind terribly if we took a break while you sat with him?”

Yes, finally! She squeezed Georgie’s hands. “I’d love to. Actually, I’ve been anxious to see for myself he’s going to be okay.”

“He will now,” the older woman said, a twinkle in her eye.

Suppressing a wave of guilt for jumping ahead of Howard’s buddies waiting to see him, she followed Georgie’s directions up to Howard’s room and knocked softly.

“Come in.” Bentley rose to greet her, relief etched on his face. After giving her a bear hug, he said, “Thanks for the backup. Georgie and I wanted to be here when he awoke, but we’ve got to take a break. My wife needs to eat something before she falls over.”

“No worries,” she said, nodding. “You guys go ahead. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

“Yeah. Anyway, I doubt it’s my mug he wants to see.” He gave her a piercing look from under his lashes that mirrored Howard’s to a T. “We’ll be back.”

“Take your time.”

The moment of truth. Chest tight with anxiety, she let her gaze drift toward the big man in the bed. Even flat on his back and unconscious, he filled the entire space with his presence. His broad shoulders were almost the width of the mattress, and his legs were bent so his feet wouldn’t hang off the end.

She moved to his left side and studied him, unable to hold off the rush of tears any longer. A clear oxygen mask covered his nose and mouth, the little elastic strap digging into a livid bruise on his right cheekbone. His right arm was in a sling, the cut covered with gauze, the skin that was visible purple, as well. She could only imagine how battered the rest of his right side looked.

“Oh, honey,” she whispered, taking a seat in the vacated chair. Reaching out, she rested her arm on his pillow and stroked his spiky hair. He must be in such pain, inside and out. “Why did he do this to you?”

She kept forking her fingers slowly through his hair. She had to touch him, and this was the only place she was relatively certain wouldn’t cause more pain. His wheezing breaths sounded awful, each one gripping his chest in a vise.

Howard turned his head toward her as though seeking her touch, movement flickering behind his eyelids.

“Sweetie, can you hear me? Come on, open those peepers for me.”

His thick lashes fluttered, swept upward. He blinked at her, eyes dazed, no hint of recognition for her or his surroundings. At least not right off.

“Hey.” She smiled, wiping at the wetness on her cheeks. Careful of his IV, she took his hand. “You’re in the hospital. Do you remember what happened?”

He blinked again, making an obvious effort to process what she was saying. The blank stare gave way to confusion, and his brow furrowed. His scratchy voice emerged as barely a whisper. “Kat?”

He sounded terrible, like he’d gargled with sandpaper. “Shh, don’t try to talk. Just nod or squeeze my hand. Do you remember the fire last night? The explosion?”

For about five seconds he frowned, studying their clasped hands, wrestling to make sense of the incomprehensible. Then his gaze snapped to hers and sheer horror flooded his face. “The . . . others . . .”

“Your team is fine,” she reassured him. “Julian has a concussion, but they’ve already let him go home with overnight supervision.” She thought of the knockout Hispanic chick who’d finally showed to collect Salvatore. Supervision. Right.

She sincerely hoped Grace had better sense than to get involved with a player.

Howard closed his eyes, exhaling a rattling sigh. But the second he opened them again, lines of distress were etched on his face. “She’s . . . dead.”

“The victim? I know, sweetie,” she said quietly, trying to lend him her strength. “Eve told me how that bastard called you at the station, and I’m so sorry. You couldn’t have saved her, honey. He wasn’t going to let you.”

He swallowed, throat working as he struggled to speak. “My fault.”

“No, it most certainly is not. You have no way of predicting what random woman he’s going to target next. He—”

“Not random.
Janine.
”

Kat stared at him, struck dumb by
her
name falling between them like a boulder. And by his expression, rife with anguish and guilt. “Are you saying . . .”

“He murdered Janine.” He turned his face away in shame. “She’s dead. . . . Because of me.”

18

There was only one reason Howard could figure why he ought to be grateful he hadn’t died, and she was sitting at his side. Holding his hand. Lending him quiet support, love shining in her beautiful green cat eyes.

Devotion he didn’t deserve.

The pain, however, he owned. In spades. Pain sinking deep into his bones, far beyond the physical, though his body hurt plenty. His throat was raw, his lungs so heavy they felt filled with lead. Just turning his head made him dizzy, and forget trying to move. Muscles he hadn’t known he possessed screamed in protest at the slightest twitch. Those were just for starters, yet none of his ailments mattered.

Because he was alive, and an innocent woman wasn’t.

He may as well have murdered his former lover himself.

“You can’t blame yourself for her death,” Kat insisted. “She could’ve been anyone.”

Ignoring her protest, he pulled down the irritating oxygen mask, letting it dangle around his neck. “She could’ve been . . .
you.
”

He was shaking apart inside. Coming unhinged. Thanking God the killer hadn’t chosen Kat, knowing he’d likely burn in hell for favoring one human life over another. For feeling such overwhelming relief that he’d awakened to see Kat’s sweet face hovering over him in concern. That the bastard hadn’t cruelly ripped this woman from his side.

The woman I love.

God help us both, I love her.

Gently, she cupped the left side of his face, stroked a thumb over his whiskered cheek. “Hush, I said don’t try to talk. I’m here and I’m fine, Lieutenant. And I’m not going anywhere unless you want me to.”

Jesus, how he wished he could believe that. Trust a woman, and she’d rip your heart out. Love her—or anyone—too much, and she’d leave. Sooner or later.

So he’d opt for later, because he wasn’t a strong enough man to do what was best for Kat and watch her walk out the door a second time. Out of his life and away from the danger stalking him.

One vital issue, however, remained unsettled between them. “I wasn’t going to sleep . . . with Janine. I knew it was wrong. . . . Changed my mind. If you don’t . . . believe me . . . nothing I say will ever matter. ” He swallowed hard. The burning in his chest and throat wasn’t just from the smoke. “If I’ve lost your trust . . . we’ve got nothing to build on.”

Worked both ways, and the irony of asking for what he had trouble giving wasn’t lost on him.

The wounded look in her eyes was quickly replaced by determination. She squared her shoulders, pinning him like a butterfly with her knowing gaze. “I saw you start to pull away from her before I interrupted, and even if I hadn’t seen, I believe you’re telling the truth. But you did let her follow you home with every intention of having sex.”

“Yes.” He’d been running scared, but there was no sense in trying to justify his actions.

“Well, I wanted honesty, didn’t I?” Her sad smile tore his heart into a million bloody pieces.

He reached for her hand again. “Baby, I’m so sorry I hurt you. Never again . . . I promise.”