Where There's Smoke (3 page)

“More on this story as it becomes available. Back to you, Tom…”

“What? That’s it?” Logan didn’t know when he’d launched to his feet. He paced the kitchen as he dug his cell from the back pocket of his jeans. Snagging his keys out of the bowl by the door, he jogged from his apartment.

Ring after ring grated on his nerves until he realized, of course, there’d be no answer at Ben’s place. He used his thumb to search the contact list of his basic, un-smart phone for the number he’d only found the balls to dial once. After Rose’s funeral. Kyana.

Instead of infuriating chimes, a beeping busy signal greeted him. “Damn it!”

He punched the steering wheel then jammed a key in the ignition of his pickup truck. At least there wouldn’t be traffic at this time of day, and he’d gotten gas just a day or two ago. If he pushed it, he could make the drive in an hour.

It was the longest fifty-three minutes of his life.

Logan skidded to a halt in the driveway of Rose’s house. No, Kyana’s house. The yellow tape blocking off the entrance to Ben’s place was completely unnecessary. Stopping there would have been pointless. Char lingered in the air, making his eyes water and his nose itch. He didn’t pause to swipe at his face before tearing from the truck. He hopped the flower beds and retaining wall with a single leap before sprinting up the hill to the back stairs he’d used many times in his youth.

The bottom one creaked louder than he remembered. Maybe he’d never subjected it to such force in the past. Today he leapt them three at a time. He swiped the key from its usual hiding place in the grill, tucked in the corner of the deck, then burst through the screened-in porch. Without bothering to ring the bell, he let himself inside.

Lights blazed in the kitchen, so he headed that way first.

Logan was a little surprised to find his uncle awake after all the commotion, which had probably included a trip to the hospital in the handful of hours between the fire and the airing of the piece on the news. His heart stuttered in his chest when he caught sight of Ben, slumped over the dining room table. For the first time Logan could remember, the man looked…old. White hair slicked back from a recent shower. Neat rows left by a comb in his thinning locks contrasted with a fuzzy gray robe, which Ben clasped tight around him. It had obviously belonged to Rose. If Logan wasn’t concentrating so hard on not breaking down, he might have snapped a picture.

“Nice outfit.” He tried not to startle his great-uncle. The guy didn’t need that kind of shock on top of everything else.

“Even without my hearing aids, I could tell that was you clomping up the stairs. Maybe because you were shaking the whole damn house, you big lug.” Ben lifted his head and pasted on a wry smile. “How’d you find out?”

“The goddamned news.” He tried not to shout, balling his fists at his sides instead. He didn’t bother with inane questions like, “How are you?” when the answer was clearly devastated-yet-mostly-healthy. Besides, they were both more comfortable with confrontation than sentimental shit. “Were you going to call me? Or am I so worthless you didn’t think I’d come?”

“Logan, please.” Ben shook his head, his eyes shining. “Things have been rough lately, I understand. How many decades did I work two or three jobs to earn my house? When you have a dream, you have to go for it. Things—
important
things—have to be sacrificed. I wasn’t about to pile any more pressure on you. We’ll handle it.”

“You and Wonder Woman, huh? I can’t fucking believe she ran into a burning building.” His guts roiled again at the thought of what might have happened. The ragdoll flop of her lithe body in the fireman’s arms had him brewing some punches. Aimed at whom, he couldn’t say. Maybe the dude who had been there to rescue her. Logan wished he could have been her hero.

The nightmare vision distracted him from pursuing Ben’s revelation. What had the man sacrificed? Logan would give his great-uncle anything in his power. Another time he would circle around and find out.

“I’m torn on that one. Can’t say I’m pleased she put herself at risk. At the same time… I’m sure I wouldn’t be sitting here right now if it weren’t for that girly.” Ben sighed. “She’s tough. You know she is. But a person can only take so much. She’s been in the shower an awfully long time. I’m starting to think someone needs to make sure she’s okay. I should have insisted the doctors examine her too, damn it. You know how she gets, though. Hardheaded.”

Ben stared at Logan, unblinking.

“I’m on it.” Logan bent down and clapped a hand on Ben’s back, surprised to find his palm met with more bone than muscle. He manned up and said what he was really thinking all along. “I’m so glad you’re all right.”

“Me too, kiddo.” Ben coughed when he laughed. “Guess I gotta go to extremes to rate a visit, huh?”

“Not anymore. I swear. Things’ll be different. Shit, you might not be able to get rid of me now.” Logan never broke promises. For one thing, his landlord was likely to boot him into the skid row gutter a millisecond after the dirt bag found out he’d lost his job. But mostly, being here felt right.

Though his world had turned upside down, something in his soul had settled the moment he’d driven his truck onto Oak Avenue—even if he’d executed the maneuver practically on two wheels.

Ben nodded then shooed Logan with a wave of his hands toward the stairs. “Check on Kyana. I’m going to rest for a while. Is it sleep or a nap if it’s already six o’clock? In either case, I’ll take Rose’s room.”

They both winced at the reminder of their absent friend.

Overflowing with terror, loss and regret, Logan bounded up the stairs to the second floor. He strode to the bathroom that adjoined Kyana’s old room and banged on the door.

No answer.

She’d have to be deafer than Ben to miss his second round of pounding.

Still not a peep confronted his battery against the hardwood.

Something told him he’d have better luck convincing her to open the door if he didn’t start bellowing at her from the other side of the six-paneled maple. If she recognized his voice, he’d certainly be left out in the cold.

Then he imagined her passed out. Unconscious. What if she’d slipped and hit her head?

She had to be exhausted.

Drained.

Scared.

Hurt.

It didn’t take much for him to visualize her crumpled in the tile basin, bleeding from a nasty dent in her thick skull. Screw that.

He pivoted on his heel and marched into Rose’s room. Ben looked at him with a single raised brow when he rummaged through the supplies near the vanity mirror. He held a bobby pin up to the soft morning light, glowing in the window, to judge the wire’s gauge.

“You can’t just barge in there. Give her space if she needs it,” Ben protested, leaning forward from the edge of the bed. His fingers gripped Logan’s arm hard enough to leave marks.

“She’s not answering. What if she’s messed up?” He paused, respecting the opinion of his great-uncle. During the time in between stays, Logan had merely been surviving, not learning and growing like he had been in the glorious summers or the final year he’d spent on Oak Avenue.

“Shit, you’re right.” Ben closed his eyes. “No choice. Be ready for her to fight you though. She’s a wildcat, our girly.”

“I think I can handle one wet, naked woman.” He groaned. It took all the fortitude he possessed to halt that line of fantasy right in its tracks. “Damn. I didn’t mean it like that…”

Ben laughed. “I didn’t raise a dumbass. She’s likely to tear your nuts off as it is. Good luck, son.”

Logan grimaced and adjusted his package as he made his way to the bathroom door. He tried once more, rapping in a more reasonable tone. One deep breath. Two. Three.

He gritted his teeth and got to work finessing the lock. It took him less than five seconds to disengage it even with the crude bobby pin. Some habits die hard.

Yeah, like lusting after Kyana Brady. Somehow he figured what he was about to do wouldn’t simplify that situation.

Logan paused with his shaking fingers on the knob. He sighed then turned the antique glass and porcelain handle. Steam billowed from the crack when he pushed the door open, making him wonder how Kyana had managed to maneuver through the smoke in Ben’s house. She must have been terrified, but she hadn’t let that stop her from saving his great-uncle’s life.

He owed her one. A monstrously huge one.

“Kyana?” he called out as he inched forward, shutting the door gently behind him. “Are you all right?”

Waving his arms in front of him, he advanced through the cloud of lightly scented mist. It smelled of something exotic. Jasmine and green tea, which reminded him of Kyana’s half-Japanese heritage. He’d always adored her long, black hair and the gorgeous shape of her unusual hazel eyes.

A tiny hiccup yanked him from the memory of her smile.

“Ky?” He tilted his head to make sense of the jumble of limbs curled into a tight ball on the shower floor. For a moment he thought he’d had it right. She must have slipped and fallen. Who knew how long she’d lain there suffering. “Oh, fuck.”

Without hesitation, he tugged open the clear glass enclosure and sank to his knees beside her. The door banged a little as it swung closed. The noise startled Kyana. If he hadn’t already reached for her, she might have slammed into the wall in her haste to retreat. Instead, he caged her against his chest, giving no thought to his rapidly dampening clothes.

“Where are you hurt?” Warm spray blasted his back. Nothing could have burned as bright as the woman he held in his arms. Even if she was trying her damnedest to break free.

Logan didn’t plan to let her go any time soon.

“
What?
I’m not. I’m fine. What the hell—?” She thrashed for a few seconds more, until his gentle rambling broke through her initial fear.

“It’s me. Logan. I’ve got you. Everything’s going to be okay. I’m sorry I frightened you. I tried to knock. You didn’t respond. I thought you might need me. I was afraid. It killed me to see you lying there. Let me help. Let me help.”

She went limp in his arms. So much so, he might have thought she’d fainted for real except the momentary relaxation didn’t last. A shuddering sob ripped through her. All resistance fled. Like a pendulum that’d reached one extreme, she swung the other way. Latching on to him, she crawled so close on his lap he might have thought she’d burrowed inside his jeans if they hadn’t stuck to him like a second skin.

“It’s really you. You’re here.” She explored the tops of his arms, ringing as much of his biceps as she could with her long, delicate fingers. Apparently satisfied, she gulped then buried her face in his neck.

Sheltering her gave him a purpose, and made him feel a million feet tall.

He didn’t pause to protect her modesty. Bold strokes of his hands were designed to infuse her with warmth and strength. He hugged her to him until she squeaked through her soul-deep cries. Somehow, he suspected this could be the first time she’d let her guard drop completely since Rose’s death. Hell, maybe ever.

Rocking them both, he allowed his own tears to fall unnoticed. A couple for his job. More for the fear that had chilled his heart this morning. And a torrent for the amazing woman all three of them had loved and lost. But most for the time he’d wasted. Because holding Kyana now he realized… This was home. The place he’d always been destined to be happiest.

Maybe not right this second. Still, together they could endure anything. They had in the past and they would again if he had anything to say about it.

Little by little, her crying diminished. Sniffles and plaintive whimpers ripped his insides apart faster than the violent heaving of her sobs had. Goose bumps rose on her skin when the water began to cool. “Come on, Kyana-chan.”

A delicate snort interrupted her mourning. “I haven’t heard that one in a while.”

Logan separated them only enough to peer into her bloodshot-yet-beautiful eyes. “Get used to it. I have a feeling you’ll be sick of it before long.”

“Never.” She bit her lip as if to keep it from trembling. Had she ever looked so vulnerable? He doubted it. The usual armor she buckled around herself had vanished along with her clothes. “I missed you, Logan-kun. I’m glad you’re here.”

“Same goes.”

The silence lingered forever between them. He’d never longed to kiss a woman as badly as he did in that instant. Her tongue darted around to soothe her chapped lips and he almost stroked out. For the first time, he allowed his gaze to wander from her face. But instead of sneaking a peak at her high, firm breasts, he caught sight of several massive bruises.

Arms, ribs, hips—the perfection of her body was marred by ghastly purple splotches.

“You
are
hurt.” He rose to his feet, ensuring his grip on her elbows lifted her as well. He ducked his shoulder to press in the handle and shut the water off.

“I don’t feel it when I’m with you.” She smiled up at him. The resulting riot of butterflies in his chest almost distracted him enough to carry her straight to bed.

“Like hell.” He set her carefully on the countertop, subduing her shriek on contact. The cooler marble chilled her still-steaming, extra-fine ass. Inspecting her bruises and cuts, he determined only a few needed bandages. The worst of the damage seemed to be the singed patch on her hip.