Page 63 of Hold Your Breath
“BP is a little high, but he seems fine to drive.” Steve smirked. “Doubt you could stop him if he wasn’t, anyway.”
Ian met Callum’s gaze, both men coolly appraising the other. “Oh, I think I could manage.”
“Guys?” Lou cleared her throat, which brought on another spate of coughing. Callum rubbed her back until she could speak again. “Instead of having a pissing contest, don’t you think you should go dump some water on my house? You know, the one that’s burning?” Although she tried to make her tone joking, her stomach felt like it was collapsing in on itself. The rescue truck blocked her view of the fire, but she could see the orange glow lighting the area and hear the muted roar of the flames even over the rumble of the pump truck.
Ian patted her blanket-covered knee. “We’re on it.”
Knocking Ian’s hand off of her leg, Callum lifted her into his arms for the second time that night. As he carried her around the rescue truck to his pickup, she buried her face in his neck. It was weak of her, she knew, but she didn’t want to see the flames eating what remained of her cabin. Instead of facing reality, she squeezed her eyes shut and breathed in the smell of smoke and Callum.
She was safe.
For now.
Chapter 12
The lights from the oncoming pickup seemed abnormally bright through the driving snow, making him squint and tilt his face. His fingers yanked at the steering wheel, and then he pounded on it. The car began to slide on the icy road, and he grabbed the wheel again, regaining traction. What had just happened?
He’d lost control before, but never like this. Never where he couldn’t remember anything. Had he actually tried to kill her? The rage that had been burning inside him for months had been chilled by the realization that he’d actually attempted to burn her—his soul mate— to death.
Air hissed between his teeth. Why had he done that? Why? He needed her.
Things were spinning out of control—hewas spinning out of control. It was time to take her, whether she was ready to go or not.
* * *
Although she’d braced herself for the worst during the hair-raising drive back from the hospital, the reality was even uglier than she could’ve imagined. Floodlights mounted on a rescue truck illuminated the scene, and Lou almost wished for darkness so she didn’t have to see the pathetic remains of her little cabin. She wrapped her arms around her middle, hugging herself through Callum’s heavy coat as she surveyed the destruction of everything she owned. Even her truck was only a blackened skeleton.
The site was a mess of churned-up mud, half hidden by a fresh layer of still-falling snow. The tender truck was linked by hoses to the pump truck, supplying water to the firemen who were still mopping up, soaking the charred remains of her home to make sure no smoldering embers remained. Icicles had formed where water leaked out of the hose connections, and vapor from the firefighters’ breath merged with the lingering smoke.
The smell was horrible, and Lou wondered if part of that was from her truck. It was a good thing she hadn’t wasted money on those ten-ply tires. She choked back a laugh that threatened to turn into a sob. Standing silently next to her, wearing an extra coat he kept in his truck, Callum rested the heavy and comforting weight of his arm across her shoulders. She sighed, leaning into him as tiredness sank deep into her bones and her feet went numb in the boots one of the nurses had grabbed from the hospital’s lost and found for her.
“Lou.” The gravelly voice of the fire chief brought her head around.
She attempted a smile of greeting but failed miserably. “Hey, Chief.” Talking didn’t hurt as much as it had earlier, although she sounded like a three-pack-a-day smoker.
Pushing up the face shield to the top of his helmet, the chief sighed. In the harsh artificial lights, the lines on his face were more pronounced, and his nose and cheeks were blotchy red with cold. Normally, Winston Early was a cheerful guy, quick to smile, but tonight he looked almost as weary as she was. “I’m so sorry, Lou. By the time we got here and Cal got you out, it was pretty much already gone. Even with this snow, the wood-frame construction, especially as old as your place was, went up in minutes.”
Trying to control her wobbling chin, she nodded. “I figured not much would be left.”
“Lou.” Rob joined their small group. “You okay?”
With a small shrug, she bit her cheek to keep from crying as she shifted her weight. “We both checked out okay. Except for some smoke inhalation, I’m fine. It’s just things that burned.Allmy things, but still.”
Callum rubbed her upper arm in silent support.
“Did you find the guy I told you about? The one who kicked me back into the house?” she asked, looking back and forth between the fire chief and the sheriff. She’d called the sheriff on the way to the hospital to tell him about the would-be killer.
“Not yet,” Rob said, exchanging a glance with Early.
“Did anyone see him leaving?” she pushed, not liking the look passing between the two men. “Were there any footprints or witnesses or…I don’t know, any evidence to tell us who he is? Ruining my tires is one thing, but he tried to kill me tonight!”
Cal’s fingers tightened around her upper arm, his body vibrating with tension next to hers.
“Lou,” Rob said in a calm voice. “We’ll find him. Did you remember anything else besides the SCBA mask and his black clothing? Height? Build?”
“He looked really tall, but my vantage point was off, since I was on my knees,” she said, feeling guilty for not noticing any details. Pressing the heels of her hands into her still-stinging eyes, she tried to bring up the mental picture. “An average build, maybe on the thin side? Sorry I’m not being more help. My eyes were watering from the smoke and the heat, plus that whisky messed me up.”
“Whisky? You’d been drinking?” Rob exchanged another look with Early, and Lou mentally cursed herself for bringing up the alcohol.
