Beneath the Scars (Masters of the Shadowlands #13)(117)

He pulled the trembling boy into his arms and held him a minute.

Sirens wailed as a fire engine hauled ass down the street and into the driveway. Lights flashed, reflecting off the building. “Let’s get you down, or we’ll both get wet.”

The kid managed a small laugh.

When Holt lowered him to Josie, she staggered at his weight, and her leg almost buckled. Her arm, side, and thigh were covered in blood.

He needed to get her to an ER.

Holt slid off the portico, landed beside her, and tucked an arm around her waist. Britney wouldn’t release her, and Timothy attached himself to his sister’s side. Holt put an arm around Carson, and as a group, they headed down the driveway.


Josie could feel the young girl shaking. Actually, Josie was, too. Holt’s arm around her waist was the only thing keeping her upright. Sweat was cold on her face, back, and neck. Her entire right side was a mass of burning pain and hot trickling blood.

Didn’t matter. Her son was safe. The other two children were safe. She leaned her head for a second against Holt’s hard upper arm and felt him kiss the top of her head. Holt was safe.

Oh, God, what a nightmare. Why, oh why, was Carson here?

Shouting to each other, the firefighters were running to the building with long hoses.

A short muscular firefighter ran up to Holt. “Is anyone else in the house?”

The children flinched at the loud voice, and Josie tucked the girl closer to her side.

“Timothy”—Holt motioned to Everett’s boy—“said it was only him and his sister.”

Timothy nodded. “Our parents are at a party. Only my sister and me were home.”

“Good. That’s good.” The firefighter glanced at the upstairs window, then at Josie and Holt. “We saw you getting them out—nice job.” And then he blinked. “Well, fuck me, it’s Holt. Aren’t you out of your territory?”

“Yeah. I’ll need to talk with you—and the police. This was arson. I can ID the perp, but I need to get Josie to the ER.”

“I’m fine.” Josie pulled in a breath. “If you need to stay, we can get a taxi and head home.”

“Baby, you’re going to need stitches for some of those cuts.”

Carson made a pained sound, and his eyes filled with tears.

Holt pulled him closer. “Josie, you’re going to the ER.” His gaze was level, his voice soft…and he wasn’t giving her a choice.

The firefighter nodded. “Listen to Holt, ma’am.” His gaze swept over the burning building, then narrowed on Holt. The black smudges on his clothing. “Tell me you didn’t charge in there, gearless, like a probie.”

“Yep.” Holt ruffled Carson’s hair. “My boy here charged in to save the girl. She froze halfway down the stairs—and would’ve been caught in the flashover.”

Hearing the pride in Holt’s voice, Josie almost smiled until she remembered that blast of sound and heat from the living room. Britney would have died—the fire truck wouldn’t have arrived in time.

“And my woman went in after Carson,” Holt continued. “You sure wouldn’t have stood outside sucking your thumb if they were yours, Smitty.”

“No, probably not.” After a second, Smitty frowned at Carson. “Don’t do that again.” Then he grinned at Holt. “Gotta say, they got guts.”

“I know,” Holt said under his breath and squeezed Josie’s waist. The pride in his voice made her eyes mist.

*

Josie wasn’t sure how much time had passed as the E.R. nurses and doctor cleaned and stitched her up.

Earlier in the ER waiting room, Holt’d said she’d probably been cut by a bottle of gas exploding. His jaw had gone tight as he added that if she hadn’t been turned half away from it, the glass could have hit her face and neck. Carson had burst into tears. With a wince, Holt had held him and told Josie, “Sorry,” in a mutter. Angry at her injuries, he’d obviously forgotten Carson was listening.

Her right side and arm had a ton of small cuts as well as long slices where bigger glass fragments had carved through skin and flesh. By the time glass had been tweezered from every cut, and everything washed and stitched, glued, or bandaged, her whole side felt as if a thousand bees were stinging her. Thankfully, Holt kept workout clothes in his vehicle so she had his loose gray sweatpants and T-shirt to wear.

Following the nurse out of the cubicle, she found Holt in the waiting room with the children—all three of them. After hearing their parents were on the way back, the Lanning children had asked to wait with Holt.

Sitting in a corner chair, Holt looked like a hen with chicks. Britney had pulled her chair as close as possible to Holt and was nestled against him. Carson had done the same on the other side. Timothy was next to his sister and holding her hand. Obviously feeling safe with Holt, all three were half-asleep.

Earlier, Holt had mentioned maybe having a child. He’d make an awesome father—and, she smiled, Carson would make a wonderful big brother.

Carson looked up and saw her. “Mom!” He dashed over, skidding to a stop a second before he ran into her. “Are you okay? Are—”

Laughing, she pulled him into a hug and ignored the pain. “I’ll be sore for a couple of days, but I’m fine.”

He gave a huge sigh of relief.