Defending Harlow (Mountain Mercenaries #4)(92)

Knowing they were out of time, she scooted closer to Jasper and grabbed hold of his arm. She pointed to Lowell and the truck. Jasper nodded. She inched backward, feeling the heat of the fire on her legs, and knelt up on the window seat once more. She couldn’t lean over like she had with the other children, but she took Jasper’s wrists in her hands and helped him slide over the edge of the windowsill. She looked down at Lowell, saw him nod, then let go.

Jasper fell right into Lowell’s arms. Once again, Lowell fell backward, but it didn’t look quite as painful as it had when he’d fallen with Milo.

Without hesitation, Harlow threw one leg over the sill and balanced there for a moment. She looked back at the doorway.

It was gone. Flames were shooting upward and crawling across the ceiling toward her. The heat was intense, and she knew if she didn’t go now, she wouldn’t get the chance.

Lowering herself over the edge, she tried to hold on until she could make a controlled drop, but her hands wouldn’t corporate. The second she swung her second leg over the edge of the windowsill and started to lower herself, the strength in her hands gave out, and she was falling.

She felt Lowell’s hands grab her around the waist painfully—then she was lying on her back.

She gulped in the fresh air, but couldn’t seem to get it into her lungs.

Harlow felt Lowell move out from under her, but she couldn’t open her eyes long enough to see him. She certainly couldn’t talk. Couldn’t ask him if he was all right.

The truck began to move under them—and not a second too soon. She managed to pry her eyes open long enough to see a shower of sparks and debris fall from the top of the building she’d just been in as it collapsed in on itself.

Closing her eyes again and concentrating on the feel of Lowell’s hand on her forehead, trying to get oxygen into her lungs, Harlow let every muscle in her body go lax.

She didn’t have to be strong anymore. Lowell was there. He’d take care of her. He’d make sure she was safe.





Chapter Twenty-Four

“I’m sorry I can’t come and laugh at you for getting hurt,” Lance told Black over the phone a few days after the fire.

He’d just had a visit from his parents, and Harlow had been taken back to her room by her parents. He hadn’t been by himself since the fire, except at night when he was sleeping.

“It’s okay,” Black told his little brother. “You all right?”

“Yeah. I’m headed down to Peru for a shoot in the morning.”

“Cool.” And it was. Lance was a very good photographer who traveled around the world. His specialty was going into the bowels of a city and taking pictures of the residents’ daily lives. From the homeless communities who lived in the drainage tunnels under Las Vegas to life in Siberia in the middle of winter, to the African plains and the slums of Mexico City, he’d seen and experienced it firsthand. Bringing the plight of those less fortunate into the limelight was his mission in life. “When are you going to be back?”

“Not sure,” Lance said. “I’m actually accompanying a film crew on this one. They’re doing a story on prostitution and how women are exploited in lower economic countries and cities.”

“You’ll be careful?” Black asked. “Believe me when I say the guys who own the prostitutes don’t take kindly to being on film or having their operations exposed.”

“Of course. It’s not like I’ll be on this job by myself. We’ve got a shitload of cameramen and others with us.”

Black still didn’t like it, but he’d learned to keep his mouth shut. Lance was an adult, and it wasn’t like he could really talk, considering what he did for the Mountain Mercenaries. “When you get back, I want you to come visit. I want to introduce you to Harlow.”

Lance paused a moment before he asked, “You really like her, huh?”

“Yeah. I’m going to marry her someday,” Black told his brother.

“No shit?”

“No shit.”

“She meet Mom and Dad yet?”

“Yeah, although she’s been kinda out of it recently. But they’re going to stick around.”

“She okay?” Lance asked, concern easy to hear in his voice.

“Yeah. Terrible case of smoke inhalation. She was lucky she didn’t burn her lungs or throat. She’s on oxygen and bronchodilators, and the doctors say she’ll be able to be weaned off them soon. She’s still coughing a lot, but we’re both just thankful she’s alive.”

“Thank God.”

“Yup.”

“Hey, Lowell?”

“Yeah, bro?”

“I’m proud of you.”

Black’s throat closed up. Finally, he choked out, “Thanks.”

“But don’t think getting hurt will make you Mom and Dad’s favorite son. That’ll always be me. So just suck it up.”

Black burst out laughing. Leave it to Lance to say something mushy, then turn around and give him shit. “Whatever, asshole. Travel safe, okay?”

“Will do. I’ll be in touch when I’m back in the States.”

“You’d better be.”

“Later.”

“Bye, Lance.”