Light up the Night (Firehouse Three #2)(56)

Huh. That was weird. At the very back of the lot, close to the dumpsters that belonged to the strip mall on the neighboring street, was a little silver two-door Nissan. She almost hadn’t seen it, parked halfway behind the oak tree as it was.

Probably some kids trying to get some nookie, or smoke some weed. None of her business.

Walking through the back kennels, she spoke in a low, calm voice to each of her canine residents. She was greeted by wagging tails and excited barks from most of the pups.

By the time she reached the hallway in front of laundry room between the dog and cat sections, where they washed and dried doggie bedding and volunteer smocks every day, the tightness in her chest was lessening just enough to let her breathe a little.

Maybe one day she’d remember her time with Drake fondly. Maybe one day she could find someone else—

She shook her head. No. She was acting like they were over. There was every chance that Belinda had been lying.

There wasn’t anyone like Drake. And that was why she couldn’t blame Belinda, not really. The woman had had a taste of what Drake had to offer, and who wouldn’t run to the ends of the earth to get him back? Though Everly’s pain at the possibility of being used as a rebound was real, and her longing for him would never stop, she really could understand the motive.

And maybe, when the pain that clouded her head and her heart dissipated, just a little, she could find a way to try to win him back. There was a big possibility that she would lose, but if she walked away from him without any more of a fight than this? There was no way she could live with herself.

Drake was too important to let him leave her for good.

A pile of laundry just outside the room caught her attention, and she frowned.

Who’d been in charge on shift yesterday? Harold? He was fastidious about everything; it wasn’t like him to leave something like this undone.

Oh, well. She’d just have to load it up in the big, industrial-size washer and let it take a spin while she hid in her office and finished her cry-it-out routine. Bending at the waist, she scooped up the blankets, most of which had been donated by a local elementary school’s charity drive, and shoved through the swinging doors.

The smell was what she noticed first, a heavy, sulfuric bite in her nostrils. And then she saw the corner of the room, where the commercial clothes dryer was sitting crooked, out of place.

The booted feet sticking out behind it were an even bigger surprise.

“Who-who are you?”

Even as she stuttered the question, she dropped the laundry and got ready to haul ass out of there.

His hand appeared on the top edge of the dryer, and he pulled himself upright. The silvery-gray hair on his head was perfectly straight, and his features were handsome, with crinkles in the corners of his eyes and his lips. He wore navy cargo pants with suspenders, and a plain gray tee.

She’d never seen him before, but she couldn’t shake the notion that he looked incredibly familiar.

“This is a private facility and we’re closed. You need to leave.”

His sigh sent shivers down her back.

“Why did you have to find me?” He bent down and a metallic clatter behind the dryer indicated he was picking up tools. “I didn’t want to hurt any person with this. It was just supposed to be the building. The animals? Eh, they’re all mutts anyhow, no real loss.” He shook his head as he hefted a toolbox in his right hand and moved to step out from behind the dryer.

Reflexes won out over shock, and Everly dashed for the door. She’d have made it, if not for a stray dog blanket that had fallen from her arms without notice on her way into the room. The fabric caught the toe of her sneaker, and her arms smacked hard against the tiled flooring. Scrambling, she tried to gain her feet, but before she could resume forward motion, he was there.

His grip bit into her forearm and he jerked her back.

“It’s you, isn’t it?”

“What do you mean? I’m not—listen, if you’re after money, we don’t have any here. This is a charity—”

“You’re the one Drake wants.”

When that name fell from the stranger’s lips, Everly’s heart squeezed, and she knew.

“Belinda. You’re related to her.”

At the sound of that name, an intense look of pain and longing crossed the man’s face. He shoved Everly back, to the corner where the huge utility shelves stood. Everly had gotten a great deal on them when a local library had upgraded the racks in their biography section.

Blocking her in with his body, he reached into the toolbox and extracted a short length of rope.

“I was,” he said as he began winding the rope around the edge of the metal shelf.

Everly looked wildly around for a way to escape, but his body was pressed full against hers, his hips twisted so she couldn’t even get a good kick in. She had to wait a moment, let herself get a better shot at making it out of there alive.

It might be the only one she got.

“She doesn’t want to see me again. I hurt her. I’ve only ever wanted to love her, protect her, give her what she needed, but somehow, I did the wrong thing by pushing her. I didn’t realize how much she loved Drake, needed him in her life. I thought she should move on, that that was the only way for her to be happy.”

“She’s with him now,” Everly whispered, tears of pain and fear streaming down her cheeks as he grabbed at her again. She twisted in his grip, but he wouldn’t budge, his body still in that blocking position. “She’s got what she wanted!”