Savage Ice (Ice Breaker Cold Case #10)

Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Two

“Beau!” Fear had Avalon’s heart racing in a triple-time rhythm as she jumped from the vehicle. “Beau!”

Where was he? And, dear God, please let him be okay.

“Hardly anything is left in the front of the building,” Royal snarled. “Has to be in the back!”

They raced for the back. Avalon’s feet pounded over the earth as they headed around to the rear of the dark building. Kai had said that he’d seen the Jag in the back. And she— “Smoke!” Avalon gasped out. “I smell smoke!”

Royal tore forward.

“Beau!” she screamed as she gave chase. “Beau!”

They reached the back door. Or was it a side door? The former warehouse was absolutely huge, but the door was ajar, and Royal was already rushing inside, and the scent of smoke just got stronger and, oh, no, she could hear the crackle of flames. She raced after him and entered darkness until?—

“Stay back!”

Real words? Or was it just the crackle of the fire? Because fire was raging. She and Royal had burst into some kind of big storage room. And fire surged across the floor in a serpentine line. A snake striking everything in its path. Terror held her rooted to the spot for a moment as her past came back and slammed straight into her.

“There’s a body on the floor!” A shout from Royal.

Her heart stopped. No, no. Not Beau. “No!”

She and Royal dodged the flames. They reached the body. Face-down. Royal rolled him over.

The flames surged.

Not Beau.

“Kai,” Royal said.

There was a whole lot of blood on Kai’s chest. Blood revealed by the twisting, churning flames that were getting bigger and bigger every second. She yanked up her shirt to cover her mouth even as her shaking fingers went to Kai’s throat.

A pulse. Weak. But there. “Alive,” she gasped. But he wouldn’t be for long if they didn’t get him out. “You…have to take him.”

“Beau is in here.” Royal crouched over Kai. “I’m not leaving Beau!”

Neither was she.

“Take…him!”

Both of their heads whipped toward the right. That had definitely been a voice. One that merged with the fire. A terrible shout.

Beyond the flames, trapped on the far side, she could see…Beau?

“Take…him!” Beau was up against the wall. That was how it looked. Up against the wall. Were his hands behind his back? Why? “Get…out!”

The fire separated them. Fire…

Fire everywhere.

“Fuck.” Coughing from Royal. “You can’t…lift Kai.”

Kai was twice her size. She could drag him. Lift him? No.

“I’m coming back,” Royal swore. “You hear me, Beau? I’m coming back!” He hauled Kai over his shoulder. Kai hung limply. Royal tried to go back the way they’d come.

Flames.

He had to dodge and weave as he turned and finally ran into the darkness. A different path than they’d originally taken. Please, get out. Make it out.

And she remained crouching as she tried to figure out how to get to Beau.

Her gaze took in the room. The fire that had formed a half-circle around him as he pressed back against the wall behind his body. The fire was between them. So many twisting flames.

“Love…you.” Beau’s words.

Had he dropped to his knees?

“Get…out.” Rough. Breaking in the fire.

Her head turned to the left. Fire.

To the right. Fire.

“Get…out!” A plea from Beau.

She’d have to jump over the fire in order to get to him. Even if she made it past the flames, they’d both be trapped.

How much longer did he have? Smoke thickened the air. Heat lanced her skin. “I…love you.” Could he hear her? Or was the fire crackling too loudly. “I. Love. You!” Then she turned around and ran from the fire.

He laughed when Avalon left.

He’d known she would run.

But Beau, had he known? Or had he thought that she would fight for him?

Beau was on his knees. He could see him. But not for much longer. The flames would be taking over.

Not for much longer.

Goodbye, Beau LeBlanc.

Avalon raced out of the building. She gulped in gasps of air as she looked frantically around the lot. Right…there.

“Avalon!” Royal’s shout.

She ignored him. Ran for the Jag. She yanked open the door. The keys—they were inside. Just waiting. She jumped in.

“Avalon!” Royal banged his hand into the windshield.

“Get back!” she yelled.

But then someone was pulling him back. Hard arms grabbed him. She frowned and tried to see through the darkness. Was that—Detective Cunningham?

Royal spun and drove a fist into the detective’s jaw.

She cranked the engine. She grabbed the wheel. And she hooked her seatbelt. Fuck it. She rammed the gas pedal down and raced toward the building. Smoke everywhere. But she remembered the spot. The spot where Beau had been. Trapped against the wall.

Don’t let the car kill him. Don’t let the smoke kill him. Don’t let me kill him.

She didn’t have a lot of room to pick up speed. This stupid idea might not work. Locking her teeth, praying, she gripped the wheel, and she hurtled the Jag right at LeBlanc’s. Right at the spot where she thought Beau might have been trapped. Come on, structural integrity. Be weak. Be weak enough.

She drove right into the wall. And she bounced back. Or the car did. But there was damage. To the building. To the Jag. Weakness. She just had to hit harder.

She reversed. Flew forward.

Don’t let me kill him. Don’t let me kill me, either.

And she hit again. The crunch of metal. The scream of glass.

This time, the air bag deployed. Her face slammed into it. Everything went white around her.

She shoved against the air bag.

Everything was white except for the flames that were now shooting from the side of the building.

Behind her, she heard the wail of sirens.

Air hit him. Cleaner air. Air that didn’t choke him and a fucking car had almost hit him, too. Beau blinked a few times as he tried to keep his heavy eyelids open, and he stared at the front of a Jag as it jutted into the building. Smashed to hell, but definitely a Jag. It had torn right through the wall.

“Beau!”

Avalon’s voice. Avalon fighting and kicking her way out of the Jag and crawling through the opening she’d made in that wall. But the flames were bigger. Stretching. More oxygen in the air had them surging ever higher. She couldn’t come closer. She needed to get the hell out. How many times would he need to tell her?

But Avalon was right there. She grabbed his arm. Smiled at him.

And then someone else grabbed him from behind.

Beau looked back.

A firefighter stood behind him. Mask in place. Breathing through the regulator. Full turnout gear covering his body so he’d be protected from the flames. Helmet on to protect his head.

The killer stood behind him. Wearing his disguise. But Beau knew exactly who he was.

The firefighter shook his head. He?—

Avalon threw her whole body against the firefighter’s. She slammed into him, and surprised, he staggered back. He slipped. Fell.

“Let’s…go!” Avalon’s cry.

At least, Beau thought that was her cry. She pushed against him, and he scrambled with her. They scraped past the Jag. Made it into the night that waited. A small opening had been created when the Jag had met the wall…and the wall mostly won the fight. They lurched outside and Beau choked in air. “Cuffed. Covered in…booze! If fire…touches me…”

“Oh, God.” Avalon’s terrified voice. She pushed him onward. “Get away from the building! Get away!”

He almost fell, but her steely grip held him up. They tumbled forward. Get away. Get away.

Detective Cunningham appeared in his path. Gun drawn. “What the hell is happening?”

“Handcuff keys!” Avalon cried out. She coughed. Choked. “They’re…universal. Give them to us, now!”

His gun wavered. But then he hurried forward.

Beau spun around. Faced the fire. Faced the hell that was LeBlanc’s. How many times could one place burn? Fuck.

He still didn’t feel the pain from his injuries, and he knew that wasn’t good. How many times had he been stabbed?

“That’s blood.” Avalon’s broken voice. “Beau…?”

He felt the cuffs give way. His hands were free. He stared into the fire. The hole on the side of the building that had been made courtesy of Avalon and the Jag. Fire and smoke poured from the hole.

More of the wall tumbled down as he watched. And then—a firefighter leapt out of the flames. But he wasn’t running for Beau. His hands were extended toward Avalon. One hand gripped a knife.

No.

Beau’s now free right hand grabbed the gun that Detective Cunningham had just holstered. He yanked it out of the holster. Aimed.

Fired.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four…

Four fast blasts. The firefighter went down.

There were yells. Shouts. Screams. No, not screams. Those were the wails of sirens.

Cunningham snatched the gun from Beau. The detective ran for the fallen firefighter. The man wasn’t moving.

Beau was still on his knees, but even that felt like an effort. He wasn’t so numb any longer. Despite the fire raging, cold crept through his veins. “That’s…killer,” Beau managed.

Cunningham ripped off the firefighter’s helmet and mask.

“Lieutenant…Wesley Vaughn,” Beau muttered.

Hero.

Killer.

Dead.

Beau had just made sure of it. One more thing he needed to make sure of? His head turned toward Avalon. Alive. Safe.

That was what mattered.

He smiled at her, then pitched forward into the darkness.