Page 34 of Crazy Little Thing Called Love
When they broke apart, Faith rested her forehead against his, breathing unsteadily. The moment stretched between them, full of possibility and promise.
“I’m still in love with you,” Jake whispered in the soft glow of the kitchen candlelight. “I want you to know that, whatever happens. This ache in my chest hasn’t gone away.”
Faith’s throat tightened with emotion. She wasn’t ready to say the words back, but she reached up to cup his face, trying to convey what she couldn’t yet speak aloud.
The explosion shattered the moment with the violence of an earthquake. Glass tinkled against hardwood somewhere in the house, and car alarms shrieked their electronic protests from the street.
“What the—” Jake was already moving, instinctively pulling Faith behind him as debris rattled the windows.
Faith struggled to process what had just happened, her hands shaking as adrenaline flooded her system. “Was that a gas line? The neighbors?—”
Jake was at the window, his face grim in the orange glow filtering through the curtains. “It was the trailer.”
“What?” Faith rushed to his side, then gasped at the sight below. Where Jake’s mobile office had sat in her driveway, flames now licked at the sky. Debris scattered across her front lawn like deadly confetti, and neighbors emerged from their houses in various states of undress.
“My work,” she breathed, thinking of the laptop and files she’d left inside. “Everything’s gone.”
Jake studied the destruction with the trained eye of a contractor who’d seen his share of accidents. “The gas line’s intact,” he said slowly, pointing to where the connection should have sparked secondary fires. “And the electrical feed is still live—see the sparks? If this had been a utility accident, we’d see a different burn pattern.”
Faith felt ice settle in her veins. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying the explosion came from inside the trailer.” His voice was carefully controlled. “Faith, you should have been in there tonight. You always sleep in the trailer. I can’t think what could’ve caused it. An electrical short wouldn’t have done that.”
The words hit her like a physical blow. Someone had intended for her to be inside when it exploded.
“He found me,” she whispered, her face draining of color.
Jake went very still. “He? Who’s he, Faith?”
The sirens were getting closer, red and blue lights painting the walls of her kitchen in garish colors. Faith wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly cold despite the warmth from Jake’s body.
“Faith.” His voice was deadly quiet. “Who is he?”
She couldn’t meet his eyes. “I don’t know his name. Just…someone who’s been leaving notes. Messages.”
“Notes.” The word came out flat, dangerous. “What kind of notes?”
“Jake, we should go outside. The fire department?—”
“The notes, Faith.” He stepped into her path, his blue eyes blazing with an intensity that made her step back. “What aren’t you telling me?”
The betrayal in his voice cut deeper than she’d expected. “It’s not what you think?—”
“What I think,” he said, his voice carefully controlled, “is that someone just tried to kill you. What I think is that you’ve been keeping secrets from me, and now you could have died because of them.”
“It wasn’t like that?—”
“Then what was it like?” He raked his hands through his hair, and she could see him fighting for control. “How long has this been going on?”
“I didn’t want to worry you?—”
“You didn’t want to worry me?” His voice was tight with barely controlled emotion. “Faith, someone just tried to kill you. How is keeping me in the dark protecting anyone?”
Faith flinched at the pain in his voice. “You don’t understand. I’ve dealt with things like this before. Overzealous fans, people who get fixated?—”
“Fans don’t usually try to blow people up, Faith.”
The truth of that statement settled between them like a chasm. Outside, the sirens grew louder, and Faith could hear voices shouting instructions.
