Authors: Wendy Stone
"We're looking for Mackenzie. Brett said you brought her here with you."
Gideon stared at Aaron, unsure of what he should say. If Mac had wanted them to know she was here, she'd have said something by now, wouldn't she? “What do you want with her?"
"We're here to take her home. She needs to heal up. Her momma can take care of her and then after she's better, I'm going to let her work for me at my agency.” Dillon stated each of the facts so easily as if the whole thing had been decided and all Hawk had to do was produce their cousin for them.
"What if Mac doesn't want to go with you?"
"She doesn't have much of a choice. I've already talked to her boss at work. He wouldn't accept her resignation from me,” Dillon said, his tone demonstrating his ire at Ron. “He's given her a leave. Her apartment is a mess, she'll lose her security deposit of course, not her fault though. She'll be happier back in Texas with the family."
"Are you this heavy handed with everyone in the family?” Hawk asked, reaching over and grabbing a tee shirt off the pile of clothes stacked haphazardly on his suitcase. He looked down, seeing Mac's green bra and her thong sitting on the floor by Dillon's feet.
"Heavy handed? You don't even know me,” Dillon growled, springing up and starting toward Gideon. As he did, he kicked over Mac's bra, though he didn't seem to notice it.
Aaron did, glancing down and then at the bed. “Where is Mackenzie?” he asked from behind Dillon's back, shaking his head slowly at Gideon.
"She's not here,” Hawk said defiantly.
"Look,” Dillon began, pushing his finger against Hawk's chest. “We're here to take her home. Her parents want her there where they can take care of her."
"I'm not going to help you kidnap her."
Dillon growled, his eyes turning gold as he grew angrier. He dug his hands in his pockets, fisting them as if he didn't trust himself. “It's not kidnapping, dammit. She's my cousin."
"She's the love of my life and I'm not letting you take her away from me."
The quiet in the room after he dropped that bomb was absolute. A pin dropping would have sounded cavernous.
"She's the what?” Dillon asked finally.
"I'm in love with Mac and she loves me. As soon as things get straightened out, I'm going to ask her to marry me."
Aaron grinned, holding out his hand again. “Congratulations,” he said.
"She hasn't said yes yet,” Hawk said, though he took Hunt's hand with a grin of his own, glancing over at the mess of covers that still hadn't moved. “I can give Mac a message when she returns here,” he offered.
"You tell her to call me,” Dillon said, turning toward the door.
"I'll do just that,” Hawk said with enough sarcasm to turn Dillon around if his brother hadn't had a hold of him.
"Listen asshole,” Dillon began.
"No, you listen. The only reason I'm not taking you in for assault on a police officer, is because you're Mac's family. Now I didn't respond in kind to this little love tap, but if you try to fuck up my relationship with Mackenzie by taking her out of here, you and I are going to have a lot more between us than this.” He motioned toward his face.
Dillon stopped and stared at him, then a small smile grew on his face. “You'll do,” he said, nodding his head. “You tell Mac, is that what you call her? Tell her I approve.” Then he turned and walked out the door, Hunt following him shaking his head.
Hawk shut the door behind them, feeling as if he'd been run over by a tornado. “What the fuck was that?"
"That,” Mac said, unburying herself from the blankets, “was my cousin, Dillon. I tried to tell you about him, remember?"
"Vaguely.” He shook his head, his fingers pushing against the swollen flesh around his eye. “He throws quite a punch.” Shaking his head, he sat on the edge of the bed.
Mac pulled herself out from her cocoon of blankets and knelt up behind him. Her bandaged hands cupped his face carefully, planting a tiny kiss at the corner of his eye. “All better?” she asked.
Hawk's eyes were on the curvy naked body before him, even scabbed and bruised, she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. “Walk around like that some and I'll be just great."
"Did you mean it?"
"Yeah, that's one way to keep my attention. Naked, gorgeous and mine works every time."
"No, you ass! I mean, what you said to my cousins. You plan to ask me to...” she stopped, unable to finish.
"Marry me,” he finished for her. “Yeah, I do."
"But...we haven't known each..."
"I haven't asked you yet either, have I? So keep the protesting for then. For now, I think you owe me a little something for hiding out while I dealt with Dillon."
She sighed heavily. “Okay, I guess you're right. What do you want?"
"Food, I'm starving.” He laughed as he watched her eyes narrow. “What sounds good?"
"Aspirin,” Mac groaned, moving her shoulder carefully as she made to get up. A squawk came from her mouth as Hawk picked her up and put her back in bed.
"I got your prescription filled,” he said, going to the dresser and dragging out the bag. He went to the bathroom and grabbed a cup, filling it with cold water from the small bar and brought it to her. Giving her one of the blue pills, he handed her the cup and then took it from her when she'd taken the pill. “How does subs sound?"
"Good enough to eat,” she joked. She leaned back against the pillows. “I really do owe you a thank you. I've never seen my cousin back down in front of anyone."
"You still haven't seen it,” he kidded her, flicking her nose. “Somebody was too chicken to make herself known and kept her head covered by the blanket.” He sat down next to her and pulled socks onto his feet. “I don't blame you though. Has he always been this intense?"
"Dillon got left in charge of his brother and sister when my aunt and uncle, his parents, were killed. Then his sister married a dirty politician who used her as a punching bag, and tried to kill her when she ran away from him. He feels responsible, especially after Aaron was kidnapped and beaten so badly he almost died."
"Jeez, maybe I don't want you to marry me,” he teased. “Sounds like you guys are jinxes."
"So you don't want to hear about how Dillon and his wife, Rylie, who ended up in Mexico. Rylie fell into some ancient city and lost their baby. She's pregnant again, by the way."
"Anything else? Do you have a cousin who's like James Bond or maybe you're related to Jimmy Hoffa?"
"I do have a whole passel of relatives in England and Scotland I've never met,” Mackenzie teased. “Who knows, we could have a relative who's licensed to kill."
Hawk nodded, reaching over to take his watch off the nightstand. He buckled it on, glancing at the time. “Why don't you let that pill work, I'll go out and get us something to eat.” He pulled the mussed covers up, tucking her in gently.
Kenzie sat up, reaching for him. “What, no goodnight kiss?"
"If I kiss you, I might not be able to stop,” he teased, leaning down to brush her nose with his lips.
But Mac had other ideas, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer before finding his lips with hers. It started slow, a soft burn that made her moan. Then she licked at his lips, teasing him with her tongue.
Hawk growled deep in his chest, pulling her closer until she jerked away because of the pain. “God, Mac, I'm sorry. You go straight to my head.” He helped her lay back on the pillows again, drawing the covers up to her neck. “You okay?"
"Yeah,” she sighed. “I'm fine.” She snuggled down into the pillow. “I love you."
"I love you, too.” He bent and kissed her forehead. “Sleep. I'll be back before you even know I'm gone."
She mumbled something, rolling to her side with her back to him. She was asleep before Hawk even left the room.
A sharp pain woke her momentarily and she grabbed her arm, her eyes still sleep blurred. The room began to spin. A strange face appeared in her line of vision, a terrible grin upon his lips.
"Now it's just you and me,” he said as her eyes closed and she fell into unconsciousness.
When she woke the second time, her mouth was dry and felt stuffed with cotton, her head hurt and she was seeing double. She tried to wipe her eyes only then realizing that she was tied to a chair, even her chest was taped to the back, holding her in.
She blinked furiously as a strange smell attacked her senses. It took Mac a moment to figure out what it was. “Gasoline,” she breathed, staring around the room at the candles, all lit, on top of gas tanks. Her chair was in the middle of a puddle of the volatile stuff, a pillar candle lit and sitting just off to the side of her on the floor.
She was wearing one of Gideon's tee shirts, her legs and feet bare, her arms pulled back behind the chair and taped together. Pain was a constant companion as her injured arm rebelled against being abused in this way.
Mac's head swiveled upon her shoulders as she tried to figure out where she was and who had her. The room was unfamiliar but the walls—they were covered with pictures of her, hundreds of them. Some were taken while she was working, others while she had been out doing errands. But the ones that chilled her were the ones with Hawk. His face had been cut out or marked over in every photo. Comments in big black block letters were written under or over the pictures. Words like bitch, whore, die left there. They sent a chill of fear down her spine.
There was also newspaper articles taped up on the walls and over the windows. She saw the article she'd written on the drug bust where she'd met Gideon, and more articles written about the arsonist. Under them was a small bed made in almost military precision, every fold or tuck tight. On top was a thick black scrap book, every page so full that bits were hanging free.
"Where am I?"
"You're here, in my home."
The voice came from behind her and Mac tried desperately to see who it was, though she knew, deep in her heart she knew. “What do you want from me?"
"You lied about me. You lied and then all the other papers lied too. I brought you here to pay for those lies."
He moved closer and she cringed as he dropped his hands to her shoulders. His skin was burned, horribly scarred on his right hand. “If...If you let me go I could fix those lies. I...I could write the truth about you and why you burn those buildings. I promise, I'll write what you want me to."
He patted her shoulder, laughing softly. “Did you like my fires? I know you've been at a couple of them. The flames were so pretty, dancing as they ate. Did you know that fire is alive? It breathes and it consumes and it destroys."
"I...I never thought of it that way,” she said, when he paused. “But now that you said that, yeah, I can see that."
"Quit patronizing the freak,” he said with a soft chuckle. “I'm not an idiot and I don't wet my bed either."
"I...I'm sorry I wrote that,” Mackenzie said quickly. “I got that quote from an expert on arsonists. I'll retract what I said. You've just got to let me go.” Tears began to streak down her cheeks, the fumes from the gasoline irritating her eyes and making her feel sick. “Please, just let me go."
"I can't do that. You have to be made to see the truth the way I was. You have to face the fire, let it burn into you. You have to feel the ecstatic blessing as it feeds off your flesh.” He moved so that she could see his face.
Mackenzie barely bit back the scream that clogged her throat, as she saw him for the first time. Fresh burns covered his cheeks, huge blisters and red skin covered by a thin sheen of some kind of cream. His eyes were wild above the burns, his eyebrows gone, burned off in whatever fire had caused the rest of his injuries. His hair was burned in places, thick and full in others, like a crazy patchwork quilt.
"God no, please don't,” she begged, horrified by what she was facing. “Why are you doing this? Please, let me go, I won't tell anyone. You can just undo this tape and I'll leave. I won't cause any problems. Please,” she begged shamelessly.
He laughed, the bandages on his face moving. “I can't do that.” He bent and picked up the candle from the floor, turning it so that wax dripped off of it and onto her knee.
Mackenzie hissed as the hot wax struck her knee. She couldn't move to get away from the drops, he had taped her too tightly. “Please,” she sobbed.
"You beg so prettily,” he said, lifting the candle. “Now, I'm going to take this candle and put it on the table just behind you. If you can face the fire and let it burn through your tape, you'll be able to get free. If not, I have a timer rigged on one of those gas cans. It has just enough explosive to knock over the tank and make the candle on top fall into the gas.” He laughed again, chilling Mackenzie to the bone.
"I'm not going to tell you how long a fuse it has,” he whispered, bending down and pressing his burned cheek against hers.
Mackenzie cowered away, the sticky fluid on his cheek rubbing against her and leaving a thin residue. She could smell him, the foul decay and smell of burned flesh sickening. “Please don't do this,” she cried.
"You can get free if you wish,” he said, pulling away. “You can feed those lovely fingers to the flame and let it free you. Or you can sit here and wait for the timer to go off and hope that the little explosion blows out the flame on the candle before it hits the gas. Either way, it's time I left.” He lifted her chin, forcing her to look up at him. “Can I have a good-bye kiss?"
"Fuck you,” Mac said, jerking her chin away from his strong fingers.
"Now, now, is that anyway to treat someone?” He chuckled, reaching down and rubbing the front of his pants. “I kind of wish I could stay here and watch, but I've got stuff to burn and not much time to do it in. Have fun,” he chortled, bending to pick up a can of gasoline and a small plastic grocery bag. She heard the door behind her open and close again, then she was alone in the room full of gasoline and lit candles.
Panic struck hard and fast and she wriggled in the chair, trying desperately to free herself. She pulled against the tape that was against her arms, feeling it move but not enough for her to get loose. It was wrapped around the bandages that the doctor had put on the day before. If she tried to burn the tape, the bandages would burn as well. “Fuck! Fuck!” she screamed after struggling for a few minutes. “Gideon, where are you?!"