10. eight
eight
. . .
CREW
As a first responder, I’d gotten really good at pulling victims out of fires, leaving them in the care of paramedics, and moving on with my life. That was the job: make the save, then forget about them. Over and over and over. Getting attached was not only frowned upon, but could be dangerous as well. When we were on shift, our entire focus had to be centered on every call.
That wasn’t to say a lot of the guys in the department didn’t have families, because they did. Chief Madden, in particular, had been married for over twenty years and had a daughter and son. Most of us were younger, though, still sowing our wild oats before ultimately settling down.
Not that I was sure I’d ever reach that point.
All that was to say, something about Aspen McKay had drawn me in the first time I laid eyes on her, and I’d spent every second since that call worried about her.
According to Sutton, she was stable when they dropped her off, but her burns were a concern. Aspen seemed like a tough woman, though, and somehow I knew she’d be okay.
Still, I wanted to see it with my own eyes .
I was damn near itching to get off shift the morning after so I could go visit her at the hospital.
Unfortunately, after shift, I desperately needed sleep. Typically, I worked one twenty-four hour shift with two days off in between, but the lieutenant on first shift—the one that came before ours in the rotation—had to take some unexpected personal time off, so I stepped up to cover him. Doubles were no joke, especially in my line of work, and I was exhausted.
I lived about fifteen minutes out of town, right on the edge of my family’s land. When I moved home five years ago and decided I was staying for good, I built my spacious house. Maybe one day I’d fill it with a wife and kids. I’d never really envisioned myself as a family man outside of my mom, brothers, and little sister, but maybe that would change if I met the right woman.
I resolutely did not entertain the flash of dark hair and set of peculiar brown eyes that flashed through my mind.
I loved living out here. After spending five years in Chicago followed by another three working campaign fires in northern California, I savored the peace and quiet. I was close enough to town that it didn’t take me long to get to work, and we’d cut a dirt track through the woods ages ago so I could go to the ranch for family dinner without having to go all the way around the craggy hills in between.
My driveway was shaded on both sides by towering pine trees that provided cover year round. The narrow lane approached my house with an attached garage that sat at the edge of a large swatch of field. Hitting the button over my head in my truck, I waited for the garage door to open and pulled inside.
Once I was parked, I turned it off and leaned my head back against the seat, closing my eyes and basking in the stillness broken only by the ticking of my cooling engine.
Finally finding the energy, I got out of the truck and approached the door leading into my mudroom, punching in the code to quiet my security system as it began beeping with the breach.
As I did every time I entered and exited my house, I silently cursed my brother, Trey, for forcing me to install the ridiculous system.
I lived in no man’s land, and I could protect myself. I didn’t need the bells and whistles doing it for me. Especially not when I knew he could easily access the feed to the cameras he’d set up around the property whenever he wanted.
He was taking the term big brother a bit too literally.
Unceremoniously, I tossed my bag through the door into the laundry room, not even having the energy to walk it inside. Then I kicked off my boots and padded down the hall, past the open kitchen-living-dining room and down another hallway to my room.
After stripping naked, I climbed into the cool sheets and heaved a sigh of relief, all the tension bleeding from my muscles as I relaxed into my mattress.
But sleep didn’t come easily, my mind still whirring with thoughts of Aspen and that fire.
I had so many questions, not only about her, but about this fucker that had tried to take her from this world.
With each year that passed without a single clue or lead, it felt like any chance of catching the guy slipped further and further away.
But…he’d never left anyone alive before. And Aspen wasn’t simply any woman—she was a private investigator now personally invested in the case, more so than whatever had drawn her to it in the first place.
Aspen had an admirable sort of tenacity, and I knew she’d stop at nothing to catch this guy, even if it meant putting herself back in danger. The thought didn’t sit right with me, and though I knew it was a bad idea for a thousand different reasons, I also knew I’d be keeping an eye on her once she was released from the hospital.
I couldn’t quite pinpoint what about this woman had me twisted in knots, but for once, I wasn’t questioning it or planning on running from it. Never before had I experienced the electricity that coursed through me when Aspen was near. For once, I wanted to chase that feeling, to run headlong into the storm.
As a rule, I didn’t do relationships. While I’d done a lot of work to heal and better myself from my disastrous teenage years, I didn’t have the mental or physical energy to devote to making someone else happy. A serious, deeply committed relationship seemed inadvisable when I wasn’t sure I was all that happy myself.
With Aspen, I wasn’t looking for anything beyond a couple nights—or maybe weeks—spent buried in her tight little body before she left town. That was all I could spare, and I had a feeling she was in a similar boat.
At last, with thoughts of her cinnamon eyes and perfect pink mouth floating at the forefront of my brain, I fell into a deep sleep.
When I woke again, the sun had mostly set, and my stomach rumbled insistently. I got up, ate, showered, and headed for the hospital.
Upon walking through the doors of Dusk Valley Memorial, I was reminded how much I hated the place.
I’d been standing in a third floor hallway when I found out my dad was dead.
I’d spent more than a few nights in my youth having my stomach pumped from overindulging in things that were bad for me and nearly cost me my own life .
So many bad memories assaulted me at once, freezing me in place right inside the sliding doors.
I had no idea how long I stood there before my name being called broke me from my trance.
“Crew!”
I glanced up to see one of the nurses, Sonya, waving at me.
Sonya was somewhere in her forties, though with her practically ageless complexion, I couldn’t tell for sure. All I knew was she was older than me and beautiful, her ebony hair pulled back in a no-nonsense bun at the base of her skull, her pink scrubs bright against her deep brown skin.
I smiled, her familiar face settling some of my nerves.
“Hey, Sonya,” I said as I approached. “Where you headed?”
She hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “Cafeteria. Gotta get a patient some soup.”
“Speaking of patients…”
Sonya’s eyes narrowed knowingly. “You’re wondering about that girl, aren’t you?”
I nodded, giving her a sheepish grin. “How is she?”
“That’s actually who I’m getting soup for, so why don’t you come see for yourself?”
Like a puppy dog, I trailed after Sonya to the cafeteria.
As Dusk Valley was the seat of the county, albeit a small one, we had a serviceable hospital that could handle most major incidents. That Aspen hadn’t been transferred up to Boise for additional, more specialized care was a good sign.
Sonya and I chatted about our families while she conned the cafeteria workers into heating up some soup despite the fact that the dinner window had closed hours ago. Then I followed her up to the fourth floor where Aspen was staying.
All was mostly quiet when we stepped out of the elevator.
“We’ve only got a few overnight patients right now,” Sonya said. “Little Bobby Ma?—”
Her words cut off as a loud, insistent beeping filled the hallway. The man standing at the nurse’s station glanced at the wall then to Sonya said, “Four seventeen.”
“Fuck,” Sonya breathed, and I was momentarily startled. I’d never heard her curse once in the entire time I’d known her, which was damn near my entire life.
She shoved the tray of food into my hands and took off running. As quickly as I could without spilling the soup everywhere, I followed after her.
“Sheriff!” I heard Sonya shout. “What are you doing to her?”
“Nothing!” a man yelped—a voice I recognized very well.
It took a moment for my brain to comprehend the scene when I reached the doorway to the room. My brother, Lane, stood in the center, hands raised as he stared at the woman on the bed.
Aspen .
Her eyes were squeezed shut, tears rolling down her cheeks, chest rising and falling rapidly, fingers white-knuckled as she gripped the blankets covering her.
Clearly in the throes of a panic attack.
In the nighttime, I hadn’t gotten a good enough look to see the purple bruising and swollenness around her eyes. And if I had, I likely would’ve assumed it was soot from the fire. In addition to the bandages around her head, she had one across her nose.
God, this fucker hadn’t simply tried to kill her. He’d beaten her first.
Something primal perked up in my chest, demanding I go to her, cradle her in my arms, and comfort her until she calmed down. The deep-seated protective instinct roared to life, stronger and louder than ever, claiming Aspen as his. I saved lives daily, but that baser instinct had never been so adamant before. It took every single ounce of self-control I possessed to remain rooted in the place, on the fringes of Aspen’s life where I belonged .
“Aspen,” Sonya said gently, reaching for one of Aspen’s hands. “Look at me.”
Aspen’s eyes flew open, locking on Sonya’s.
“I need you to take deep breaths,” Sonya urged. “In for four, hold for four, out for six. Let’s do it together.”
Sonya slowed her breathing and counted as she inhaled, Aspen following along with, each word no more than a gasp of air. Lane and I stood by, watching as Sonya expertly brought Aspen down from her panic attack.
“What the fuck did you do to her?” I hissed at Lane.
Lane cut me with a side eye. “I was taking her statement.”
I growled. “You couldn’t have waited a few weeks?”
“You know it’s best to do these things as soon as possible afterward.”
“Well clearly, she wasn’t ready to talk about it.”
“I see that now,” Lane gritted out.
At last, Aspen’s breathing returned to normal. Her fingers trembled as she lifted her hands to rub her temples, gaze fixed ahead, face red—almost like she was embarrassed.
She’d suffered a deep, nearly life-ending trauma, and she was embarrassed? About what? God, I wanted to deck my brother, having no doubt he was the cause of her inflamed cheeks.
“I’m sorry, Sheriff,” Aspen said weakly. “Can we do this another day?”
At last, she sought Lane out, though when she found me next to him, our gazes collided and held, her eyes widening.
I could practically see the memories of the night before playing on a loop in her eyes like an old school film projector.
“Crew,” she breathed.
“Hey, Aspen.”
Some emotion I couldn’t name flickered in her expression, those gorgeous cinnamon depths once again welling with unshed tears, a stray slipping free and rolling all the way to the edge of her jaw. Clinging for dear life .
Why was I gripped by the sudden urge to go to her and brush it away?
Before I could do something stupid, a petite woman barreled into the room, shoving me out of the way as she rushed to Aspen’s side, followed by a man with hair the same shade as Aspen’s.
My eyes flitted between Aspen and the newcomers, deciding these must be her parents.
“What in the world is going on here?” her mom demanded.
“You must be Mrs. McKay,” Lane said, having come to the same conclusion as me, stepping forward and extending his hand. “I’m Sheriff Lawless. I’m here to take Aspen’s statement regarding the fire.”
“Less than twenty-four hours later?” she hissed. “I don’t mean to be rude, Sheriff, but that’s incredibly insensitive.” Mrs. McKay gestured to her daughter, who was visibly upset. “She’s clearly not ready.”
Sufficiently chastened, Lane bowed his head like he’d been scolded by our own mother, murmuring his apologies.
Then Mrs. McKay’s stare landed on me.
“And who are you?”
“I—”
“He’s the one who saved me, Mom,” Aspen whispered.
“Oh!” Mrs. McKay squeaked, rushing across the room and throwing her arms around me in a hug that was surprisingly crushing given how tiny she was.
Awkwardly, I wrapped my arms around her shoulders and gently patted her back as she sobbed into my shirt. Aspen looked on with a bemused grin. Aspen’s father merely gave me a curt nod and mouthed, “thank you.”
I appreciated that much more than I did the woman clinging to my body.
After long, uncomfortable minutes, Mrs. McKay finally let go and swiped the tears from her face .
“Thank you…” she trailed off.
“Oh, Crew, ma’am. Crew Lawless.”
A brow raised. “Lawless?” She hooked her thumb at Lane. “You related to this one?”
I fought back a chuckle at her unimpressed tone. “Yes, ma’am. He’s my brother.”
Mrs. McKay pursed her lips, eyes darting between us, then said, “Well, at least one of you has some sense.”
This time, my laughter bubbled free, unbidden, and Lane’s face darkened like a thunder cloud.
“I’ll see myself out,” he said petulantly. “I’ll be in touch, Miss McKay.”
Aspen weakly saluted him.
“Do you want to walk the scene Tuesday morning?” I murmured to him before he could leave. “I’ll be back on shift.”
Lane nodded. “Around ten? We can meet at the garage.”
“Yeah, as long as no early calls come in.”
“See you then,” he said, then disappeared down the hall.
Returning my attention to the room, I found four sets of eyes watching me expectantly.
“Is that for me?” Aspen croaked, glancing pointedly at the tray of food I still carried.
“Oh! Yeah,” I said awkwardly, moving to her bedside. “Sonya kind of passed it off to me when we heard the commotion.”
“Good thing,” Aspen said. “I’m starving.”
“Small bites,” Sonya warned as she walked out, leaving me alone with the McKay family.
“Here, honey,” Mrs. McKay said to her daughter but approached me and reached for the tray. “Let me feed you.”
“Moooooooooom,” Aspen groaned. “I’m thirty-three, not three. I can feed myself.”
Mrs. McKay sniffed. “I’m only trying to help.”
“You’re hovering,” Aspen deadpanned. “I’m fine.”
Aspen’s mother huffed out a disgusted sigh. “We fly across the country to be by your side while you heal and this is how you repay us? You’re terribly ungrateful, Aspen.”
“I’m not ungrateful,” Aspen murmured. “I’m exhausted and in pain, but I’m still perfectly capable of feeding myself.”
Mrs. McKay sighed heavily and opened her mouth to further the argument, but her husband put a hand on her arm.
“Leesa.”
All the fight left Mrs. McKay with the utterance of her name, and she nodded at her husband. To Aspen she said, “Okay, honey. I’ll just sit with you then. Is that okay?”
Aspen smiled at her. “Of course, Mom.”
“Would you like to join us?” Mr. McKay asked, mirroring his wife by pulling up a seat on Aspen’s other side.
“Ah, no. That’s okay. I only wanted to check on Aspen, and now that I see she’s okay, I’m gonna go.”
I turned to leave, but Aspen calling my name stalled me in the doorway, and I glanced back over my shoulder at her.
“Thank you,” she said, her parents echoing the sentiment.
“Anytime,” I promised.
And then I was gone.