Protecting What's Mine(60)

“I owe you an apology.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” he muttered around the thermometer.

“No talking. Last night I was frustrated with…well, a lot of things. I took it out on you, and that was unfair. I’m sorry. I deliberately pushed your buttons and tried to make you feel bad. And that’s embarrassingly immature.”

She took the reading from the BP monitor and recorded it on her laptop.

“You’ve been nothing but patient and kind, and I’ve sent you about a hundred mixed signals,” she admitted. “I came here with a plan, and that plan didn’t include you. But it also didn’t include this.” She tapped the boot.

“Can I say something?” he mumbled.

“No. It’ll screw up your temperature. Anyway, I don’t have an example of a healthy relationship. It’s not an excuse for me being an unmitigated ass last night,” she said. “I should know better. But I have baggage. My mother. Let’s leave it at she wasn’t equipped to care for children. I grew up never knowing what I was coming home to. The happy sober mom. The drunk needy one. Or to half-packed boxes because we were being evicted or she’d met a new Uncle So-and-So who was going to play the white knight for all of us.”

The thermometer beeped. But neither made a move to remove it.

“I’ve never done relationships. I don’t know what a healthy one looks like. How it works. I’m scared shitless of failing. I came here to get myself back on track. But you’re so damn tempting. And now I’m not sure I want to or even can stick to my guns. Last night,” she paused, blew out a breath. “I didn’t like what I saw in the mirror. So maybe my plan needs adjusting.”

He took the thermometer out of his mouth, handed it to her.

“Now can I say something?” he asked. Those blue eyes were unreadable.

The alarm went off inside the building. It vibrated down to her bones.

“It’s a big one, boys and girls,” Zane crowed, sprinting for the stairs. “Bring your A game.”

Linc’s jaw clenched as he dragged on his shirt.

“We’ll talk,” he said.

She nodded. “Go. I’ll take Sunshine home with me.”

His eyes softened just a bit, and he nodded. “Thanks, doc.”

Then he was gone.





28





It was a bastard of a blaze in a small apartment building on the north side of town. It started on the third floor and was being a real bitch about it.

The heat it pumped off made it necessary to move the command vehicle and incident command back half a block.

It was a hot one. Neighbors, dozens of them, who lined up behind the barricades were already sweating. They’d evacuated the nearby buildings as a precaution. Traffic was rerouted, and his team was inside searching each apartment. The crew from Baylorsville was on standby to lend a hand or cover any other calls coming in.

But for now, Linc’s crew had it under control.

A textbook response.

Most of the residents were accounted for. But there was still a family that lived on the third floor that no one had heard from.

The can man, or woman in this case, radioed down. “Command. Can man. I’m opening this bitch up. She’s a hot one, chief.”

“Copy that, Lucille. Need any help up there?”

“Nah,” she called back. “Don’t want to catch any of those fine ’staches on fire. Can man out.”

“Roger that. Keep me posted.”

He directed one of the hose teams around the back of the building where the can man was opening up the roof. “Let’s drown her,” he told them. “Command to search and rescue. Wu, CAN report.”

There was static and then the calm voice of his assistant chief. “We cleared two units on the third floor. But I’m not trusting the ceiling to hold up for the two on the east side. Heavy smoke. Lot of flame toward the stairs. No sprinklers. It’s eating fast. Plus the fire escapes on the back are a joke.”

“I’ll send a team up the ladder on the east side,” Linc promised. “Mind your head. Lucille is opening up the rear west corner.”

Wu was silent for a beat. “Chief, we’re hearing a dog barking. Gonna do another sweep.”

A gangly volunteer jogged up. “Chief. One of the residents says she thinks someone’s home in that last unit east side. Family’s got an elderly mother-in-law living with them and a big-ass dog.”

“I need a ladder team on the east side third floor,” Linc radioed.

There was a rumble from inside the building that he felt under his feet on the street.

“Someone tell me what the fuck that was,” he called.

“Fuck. Chief. The stairs just went. We’re all fine, mostly, but we’re still on the third west side. No way out,” Kelly reported in.

“Hang tight, Wu. We’re coming to get you.”

Linc waved over one of the volunteers and shrugged into his turnout coat. Sam was a twenty-five-year veteran with the department and, thanks to a bum knee, was relegated to non-rescue work.

“What’s up, chief?”

“Got a team trapped on the third west side, possible minor injuries. And a potential entrapment on third east. Call second alarm. Get the Baylorsville company in here,” Linc ordered, handing the man the radio’s handset. “We need a ladder team over to the west side now.”