Her eyes water. “That’s impossible…. No. I shut the damper. I am not an idiot, Bob. This was arson, clear and simple. Well, do your freakin’ job. You find them. I’m not kidding around here. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Yup… No, I’m sorry. Bye.”
In answer to my raised brows, she starts to sob. “My chimney caught on fire.”
She buries her face in her hands once she sinks into her desk chair. “I can’t do this, Hunt. It’s too much.”
While I reach for her, she slams a fist on the wood. “I am so fucking tired of this crap. I clean my fireplace every year. I have it inspected. There is no way I had any creosote. That’s bull.”
The urge to fix this is so overwhelming that I literally bite my tongue. This capable woman has reached a crossroads. It’s up to her to decide who she wants to be moving forward.
I will support her each step of the way.
Chapter 19
Kelly
Opening the window, I gulp in frigid air until I stop gasping. Last night, I almost died. Now, someone tried to burn down my house. Bourdin and his pals are never going to stop coming for me. How can just one person defeat an army? They have all the power. Dear Lord, I can’t live like this anymore. My mental box is full, overflowing with all the shit I can’t handle.
“Goddammit!” Paperweight held like a softball, I pitch it with all my might.
It bounces off the wall, rolling on the floor, undamaged.
Monstro hisses and skitters under the desk.
Hell, I can’t even do that right.
Determined to end the harassment, I stomp toward the coffee maker and climb onto the countertop. With the surveillance cam at eye height, I shout, “This ends here.”
Hunt, watching silently up until now, tugs on my pants’ leg. “Take this.”
“Thanks.” I grab the offered knife, dig the device out of the paneling, then drop it in his palm.
While he photographs it, I climb down, relishing each satisfying crunch as I grind it under my heel.
A deep inhale later, my head lifts from the broken bits to my lover’s soul-searching gaze. “Babe, how can I help? I’m all in.”
My jaw drops. I expected him to drag me to a safe house, to call his boss, or send in a squad of investigators. Despite all the crap in my life, I smile.
For once, a man trusted me to take charge.
“Oorah.” My inner Marine doesn’t fret about imaginary hinged boxes. In fact, she fires her automatic rifle repeatedly.The thoughts and memories stored inside float out, much like the Ghostbusters’ Ecto-Containment Unit.
I wait. And wait.
Where’s the nervous breakdown? I think I might be crying. Incredibly strong arms wrap around me—his wet shirt beside my face.
Not letting me go, Scott reaches for the tissues and shoves a few into my hand. He speaks neither platitudes northere-theres. No head pats, nothis is all going to be okay, he simply holds me.
I let myself sink into his warmth, absorb his strength, and breathe it all in.
Done with my mini pity party, I blow my nose. Once I glug down a glass of water, my voice steadies enough to call Jeremy to cover for me.
Hanging up, I swallow hard. “I am not a victim.”
Hunt tips my chin up from his torso. “No, ma’am. I never thought you were.”
Before I lose my newly found backbone, I phone my brother. My daughter’s life depends on keeping him informed. “Is Mackenzie with you?”
“She’s in school, why?”
