“I guess.” She moved toward the bedroom. “Something still doesn’t feel right.”
He looked around the room, trying to pick out anything that felt or looked off even though this was his first time here. He loved the pictures on the walls. All were bright fields of wildflowers in bloom with the blue sky as the backdrop in some and the forest in others.
He spotted a couple pictures of Lucky when she was young, standing with a little boy. Her brother, he presumed. They had the same eyes, same nose. Lucky’s hair was lighter than her brothers more light brown than blonde.
Lucky stopped at the door to the bedroom. “I never close this all the way.” She put her hand on the knob. “Do you smell that?”
She turned the knob just as he yelled, “Wait!” She pushed the door open and a whooshing sound was the first thing that alerted him to danger, right as a bright fireball erupted, making Lucky stumble backward away from the heat and flames.
Hawk ran forward, wrapped his arms around her waist, picked her up, spun around, dropped her feet to the floor, then pushed her away. He spun back and ran into the room to put out the fire with the quilt from her bed.
Lucky braced herself with her hands on either side of the door frame, her eyes wide with fright and concern, even though the fire was out now. “What is that?” She notched her chin towardthe glass bottle he pulled from beneath the charred blanket. “What happened?”
“Someone tried to burn down your house.”And maybe kill her, too.He didn’t say that last part out loud.
Lucky followed his stare to the back of the door where a piece of black duct tape held several burned up matchsticks and a partially burned matchbox taped to the floor.
When Lucky pushed the door open, the matchstick had scraped across the box, lighting it. She’d also knocked over a soda bottle filled with gasoline. As soon as the fumes hit the flame, it ignited and could have spread rapidly with the smeared gasoline spilling across the floor toward the bed. Everything would have gone up quickly.
He had to believe if he wasn’t here, she’d have gotten out, run the second she saw the flames.
Her hand gripped his forearm. “Put that down. It’s evidence. We need to call Jase.”
He pulled out his phone and made the call. “Hey. It’s Hawk. You need to come out to Lucky’s place, maybe bring the fire department. Someone set a trap to start a fire when Lucky came home.”
“What the…I’ll be there soon. Don’t touch anything. Get out of the house if you haven’t already.”
“We’re headed out now.” Hawk coughed alone with Lucky from the smoke and quickly put his hand to Lucky’s back and ushered her out the door. Hawk pocketed his phone again and pulled Lucky into his chest on the porch. He held her close. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
She buried her face in his chest. “You keep saying that but none of this is your fault.”
He stared off behind her, wishing he could do something to make her feel better, or at least find this asshole and stop him. “What the hell is that?” He gently set Lucky aside and walkedpast her toward her car, parked next to his. The front left tire was completely flat. Squatting down for a better look, Hawk spotted a long slash in the sidewall—and a knife discarded just beneath the car.
“Are you kidding me?” Lucky leaned back against his Range Rover’s fender and stared up at the sky. “Fuck my life.”
He stood and took her by the shoulders. “Don’t say that. We saved the house and I can change your tire.”
“Yeah? And how long until you’re tired of picking up the pieces of this mess and resent me for bringing all of this fucking baggage to your doorstep?”
He kissed her on the forehead. “We all have baggage. Mine’s been a heavy load, which means I can certainly handle yours if it keeps you in my life so we can get to the good stuff.”
“Not much of that the last few days,” she grumbled.
“I know you’re tired and sore and someone is messing with you, but I need you to hang on a little longer. Once we get to my place, you can rest and relax and let me take care of you.”
She held her hand out wide. “Why would you want to do that?” She let her hand drop to her side and smack her thigh.
He cupped her beautiful face. “Because I care about you. You matter to me. And it pisses me off that someone is doing this to you, so I’m going to do everything I can to help you stop whoever this is, once and for all.” He stared down into her tear-filled eyes. “Do you believe me?”
She put her hand on his chest over his heart. “Yes. I’m trying.” Her gaze dropped to the ground behind him. “That knife was my father’s. He used it—” The words abruptly cut off with her breathing.
“Lucky?”
“On me,” she choked out.
The scars all over her.
She traced a long one down her arm. “I kept it to remind myself that he couldn’t hurt me anymore.”
