Page 89 of Living with Fire
It’ll be two weeks tomorrow since I saw Vincent at the bar. Two long, stressful weeks.
I haven’t stopped looking over my shoulder, expecting him to show up. When Nate and I haven’t been at the firehouse, we’ve mostly been at home, or at the bar. Every time the door to the bar opens, my heart stops, and I quit breathing until I see who walks in.
I knew Vincent would do something like this, keeping me on edge, but I honestly didn’t expect him to vanish for this long. It’s starting to wear me down. The only time I ever seem to be alone is when I’m using the bathroom, and while I love Nate for keeping me safe, I’m starting to feel a bit smothered.
I’ll take it over leaving him, though. I still can’t believe I was ready to walk away. I know why I was doing it, and I really did have the best intentions, but thinking back, I’m not sure how I thought I’d be able to do it.
Leaving my family was one thing, but leaving this man I’ve fallen in love with is entirely different. I realized that once I got home and started to pack. It was his damn t-shirt that did me in.
He’d been wearing it a few days before when he came into my room while I was folding laundry, attacking me from behind with a myriad of kisses, tickling me until I couldn’t take it anymore. Then he’d spun me around, kissed me breathless, and looked into my eyes the entire time he made love to me. I think I knew before then he felt the same way I did, but gazing at him while he moved inside of me, tender and sweet, solidified it for me.
So when I found that damn shirt, I knew I couldn’t leave.
“Damn it,” I mutter to myself, digging through my bag to look for the smaller bag that houses my chargers and earbuds.
I’ve been through it twice and can’t find it, but I know I packed it before we left this morning. In my haste to be ready on time, I dumped my bag in the back of the truck, though, and I’ll bet I missed it when I picked everything up when we got to the firehouse.
I drop my bag to the ground with a thunk, letting out a grumbling breath. There’s no way I can go without them. The one good thing about being stuck at the firehouse all day is the time it’s provided to plan the firefighter auction at the bar, which has meant being on the phone. A lot. We didn’t wait for the accountant to confirm what I’d already figured out, though he did two days after he got the USB Nate dropped off to him, to start planning. Liam and I set to work immediately.
Tomorrow night we’ll throw the doors of the bar open for the first ever 10-42 Firefighter Auction. The support for it has been overwhelming. Nate has helped so many people over the years without asking for anything in return, that once word spread, the offers came pouring in.
I think everyone besides Nate knew it would happen. It’s been heartwarming to watch his surprise and awe every time Liam—who has been instrumental in finding candidates for dates—or I tell him of someone new reaching out. Firefighters and community alike.
Frustrated and grumpy, I grab Nate’s keys and push away from the table I’m sitting at. He argued over leaving them with me the first day, saying I wouldn’t need them, and he didn’t want me outside by myself. Once I’d pointed out that if something happened while he was on a call and I wouldn’t have any way out I’d be screwed, he relented. Now I’m thankful he did. I can run out there and be back before he even knows I’ve left.
Swinging the keys around my finger, I make my way out the side door that dumps me into the parking lot. Unless someone with a code is going in or coming out when I return, I realize I’ll have to go through the front door to get back in, but it’s not a big deal. Sure, it leaves me a little more exposed, but even if Vincent knew I was here, I don’t see him trying anything at the firehouse. Too many people, too big a chance of getting caught.
Opening the back driver’s side door, my eyes scan the bench and then the floor for the little case, but I don’t have a chance to look for long. Something grabs my hair and forces me face first onto the floor of the truck, and I screech, my body folding in half at the pressure. Fighting to turn and see what the hell is happening, a body presses up against me from behind, pinning me in place.
Adrenaline floods me, causing me to struggle before I force myself to stop, knowing it’s futile in this moment. I should conserve my energy even though every instinct is telling me to fight back.
“Hi bear,” Vincent coos into my ear, the scent of his cologne so close making me nauseous. “God, I’ve missed you.”
Bone crushing fear turns my blood cold. I don’t respond. I know he’s trying to get a rise out of me, but he got enough when he pushed me down. I don’t want to give him anything more.
Though it makes me feel physically ill, I let him cover me with his body, sniff my hair, nuzzle my ear. I let him take his fill of what he wants because I have no idea what Vincent’s plan is. All I know is he isn’t going to let me go anytime soon, so the longer I can remain in this parking lot, the better chance I have of Nate realizing I’m not inside.
Nate.
God, I wish I’d listened to him. I should have known better than to come outside alone.
Without warning I’m being yanked up by my hair and I cry out at the sharp pain radiating from my scalp. Vincent is looking for a reaction from me, and not giving him one is infuriating to him.
It’s a double-edged sword. If I give him what he wants, it eggs him on, but if I don’t, he gets more violent.
His breath is hot against my ear. “Did you miss me too, bear?”
Now that I’m upright, I struggle against him again, trying to wrench my body away from his. With his hand tight in my hair and a leg between mine, hips pressed against me, he’s got me mostly under control. Reaching back, I go for his face with my nails, but I feel him duck out of my way and then something cold and hard presses into the bottom of my chin causing me to freeze.
“I wouldn’t do that, baby bear,” he says coldly. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”
Panic is grabbing hold of me, my chest heaving with each breath I take. There’s a gun aimed at me, and I have zero doubt that it’s loaded. It takes every bit of fight out of me.
Closing my eyes, tears well in them, defeat surging within me. Not once in all our time together did Vincent pull a gun and threaten me. Apparently he knew that I wouldn’t be easy to manage this time around.
A gun changes everything. A gun means that if Nate, or any of the other guys, came out and found us, they’d be in imminent danger.
“Okay. Okay, I won’t. I promise.” My mouth is dry as dust. I try wetting my lips to make my words less hoarse, infusing them with as much happiness as possible. It’s fake, but I’m hoping he doesn’t notice. “There’s a little café down the street. Why don’t we go there and have a coffee and talk?”