Page 42 of Heart of a Hero

My mind raced, searching for a way out. I had to buy time, had to survive until help could arrive. But how? Rex’s eyes bored into me, filled with a mixture of rage and twisted desire that made my skin crawl.

Trying to keep my voice steady despite the fear coursing through me, I said, “We can talk about this. Maybe… maybe we can work something out.”

He laughed, a harsh, grating sound that echoed off the crumbling walls of my makeshift prison. “Oh, Nora. Sweet, naive Nora. You still don’t get it, do you? There’s nothing to talk about. You’re mine, and it’s time you remembered that.”

He began to pace the room, his boots kicking up small clouds of dust with each step. The knife glinted in his hand, a constant reminder of the danger I was in. I took in my surroundings, desperate for any sign of where we might be or how I could escape.

The room was small and dilapidated, with peeling wallpaper and water stains marring the ceiling. A single, dirty window let in a faint stream of light, illuminating the dust motes that danced in the air. The floorboards creaked ominously under Rex’s weight, and I wondered if they might give way entirely. I actually thought that might be my best option, him falling to his death. Didn’t matter I’d be left tied to this damn chair. I’d find a way to get out of here as long as I didn’t have a knife wielding psycho staring me down.

“You know,” Rex said, his voice taking on a dangerously calm tone, “I’ve had a lot of time to think about what I’d do when I finally got you back. And let me tell you, Nora, I’ve come up with some truly creative ideas.”

He crouched down beside me again, tracing the tip of the knife along my collarbone. I shuddered, trying to shrink away from his touch, but the ropes held me firmly in place.

“First,” he continued, his breath hot on my face, “I think we’ll start with those pretty little fingers of yours. One by one, I’ll break them. Slowly. Just to remind you what happens when you try to push me away.”

I bit back a sob, my mind reeling with horror at his words. I had to stay strong, had to find a way out of this.

“Then,” Rex went on, his voice taking on a dreamy quality that was somehow more terrifying than his anger, “we’ll move on to your toes. Did you know there are twenty-six bones in a human foot? I wonder how many I can break before you pass out from the pain.”

I closed my eyes, trying to block out his words, but they seeped into my consciousness like poison. I thought of Dawson, of Taylor, of the life we had been building together. I couldn’t let it end like this.

“Rex, please,” I whispered again, opening my eyes to meet his gaze. “This isn’t you. Remember when we first met? You were kind, gentle. What happened to that man?”

He grinned. “It was all a lie, Nora. I simply gave you what you wanted in order to reel you in. Then when you had no way to escape, nowhere else to go, I was able to be my true self.”

I’d always known that’s what happened but hearing him say it made it even more real. I’d been so stupid, so gullible. And now I was in his grasp once again.

Chapter Thirteen

Dawson

I stumbled through the smoke-filled hallway, Captain Briggs at my side and the victim cradled in my arms. The heat pressed against us like a living thing, hungry and relentless. Sweat streamed down my face beneath my helmet, and my muscles screamed with exhaustion.

“Almost there, Kane,” Captain Briggs rasped, his voice barely audible over the roar of the flames.

I nodded, tightening my grip on the unconscious woman. Her face was streaked with soot, her breathing shallow. We had to get her out now.

The exit loomed ahead, a faint rectangle of light in the hazy darkness. With a final burst of energy, we lurched forward, bursting through the doorway and into the crisp night air. I gulped it down greedily, my eyes watering as I blinked against the sudden brightness of flashing emergency lights.

Paramedics swarmed us immediately. I gently transferred the woman onto a waiting stretcher, my arms trembling with relief and fatigue. “She needs oxygen,” I croaked, watching as they fitted a mask over her face and wheeled her toward an ambulance.

Before I could catch my breath, Captain Briggs grabbed my shoulder. “You’re getting checked out too, Kane. No arguments.”

I wanted to protest, but the stern look in his eyes brooked no refusal. I let him steer me toward another paramedic, who began examining me efficiently. The adrenaline was fading now, leaving me acutely aware of every ache and pain. My ribs throbbed where I’d caught a falling beam, and my skin felt tight and hot in places where my gear hadn’t quite protected me from the flames. I wondered if it had ripped anywhere when I’d been caught under the debris.

“Looks like just bruising,” the paramedic announced after a thorough check. “You were lucky.”

Lucky. The word hit me like a punch to the gut as I looked back at the smoldering building. We’d saved one, but four others hadn’t made it out. An elderly couple on the third floor, a young mother and her toddler we hadn’t been able to reach because the fire had spread too fast. I’d been listening to the chatter from my team as they relayed information obtained from people around them. And my heart had ached when it had been determined there was no possible way to reach any of them.

Around me, my teammates wore similar expressions of grim exhaustion and barely contained grief. The fire was out now, reduced to wisps of smoke and blackened rubble. But the cost had been too high.

Captain Briggs gathered us together, his face etched with lines of sorrow and fatigue. “You all did everything you could. Remember that. We saved lives today. Now, let’s head back to the station and debrief.”

We climbed into the truck in silence, the usual post-fire banter conspicuously absent. As we pulled away from the scene, I stared out the window at the flashing lights growing smaller in the distance. Even though our job was done, the police would linger a bit longer. My heart felt heavy, and I knew the guilt would eat at me for a while, even though there’d been nothing I could do this time.

* * *

The ring of my phone jolted me from a restless sleep. I fumbled for it in the darkness. Glancing at the time, I realized I’d only been asleep about an hour.

---