6. Zander
Chapter Six
ZANDER
I awaken to the soft morning light and feel Kyla's warm body nestled against mine. Last night plays back; the way she kissed me, her pussy gripping my cock, and how perfectly she fits in my arms.
Kyla suddenly sits bolt upright. “Tiffany?” She's out of bed before I can react, pulling on her robe. “She always wakes me for breakfast. She never misses breakfast.”
The fear in her voice has me moving, pulling on my clothes. We hurry downstairs to the bakery, and a wave of freezing air hits me. The front door stands open, snow drifting in across the floor. A small ceramic bowl lies shattered near the door, cat food scattered across the floor.
Kyla's voice breaks. “Trevor…he knows how much I love her. He's doing this on purpose.”
My jaw tightens. “I'll find her. You stay here.”
“Tiffany!” Kyla moves toward the door, but I catch her hand.
“Let me check first. You get dressed.” I cup her face in my hands and kiss her forehead. “I’ll get her back for you, gorgeous, don’t worry.”
Outside, the street is eerily quiet. Fresh snow shows footprints leading to the east. The tracks are clear in the misty dawn light, and I follow them. I spot a familiar black and white shape huddled under a bench near the town square, a good two blocks away.
“Hey there, beautiful.” I crouch down, holding out my hand. Tiffany emerges cautiously, shivering. A piece of twine is tangled around her back leg – someone tied her here, but she must have worked her way loose.
The cat launches herself into my arms, purring. I hold her close, sheltering her under my coat. “Let's get you home, honey.”
Carl, the weather-predicting old-timer, waves at me when I’m nearly back at Cookie Corner. “Early morning for cat-wrangling, Zander!”
As I turn onto Kyla’s street, I watch in horror as a dark figure wearing a dust mask tears open industrial bags of flour. The fine white powder billows through the air like smoke. The particles hang suspended, catching the dim light and clouding the inside space.
Then he pulls out something that glints. That evil motherfucker is starting a fire.
“Carl!” I thrust Tiffany into his startled arms, already knowing what's about to happen. “Call the firehouse! Fire at Cookie Corner!”
I'm still shouting when Trevor throws the lighter over his shoulder, running out the front door and down the street. The tiny flame wafts in the air for a split second. Then physics takes over.
The flour dust ignites.
It's not like a normal fire. It's like a bomb. The suspended particles catch simultaneously, a rolling wave of explosive force that turns the air itself into flame. The pressure wave shatters every window, sending glass and burning debris flying outward. The shock wave knocks me back several steps.
Flames race up the walls, feeding on more flour, creating a chain reaction of fire and heat. The old wooden structure doesn't stand a chance.
“KYLA!”
Black smoke pours from the broken windows. The front door is completely blocked by flames, but I know where the structural supports are and which walls can take the most heat. I sprint around to the back door, ducking under the thick smoke already filling the space.
The heat hits like a physical force, but my training kicks in. Stay low. Check corners. Listen for movement.
“Kyla!”
A crash from upstairs, then her voice, choked with smoke: “Zander!”
I take the stairs two at a time, flames licking at my heels. The apartment door is locked. I throw my weight against it once, twice – the wood splinters.
She's by the window, trying to break the glass. The smoke is thicker up here, and she's coughing violently. Her eyes are wide with fear, but relief floods her face when she sees me.
“I've got you.” I wrap her in my coat, pulling her close. “Hold on to me. Don't let go.”
The stairs are fully engulfed now. We'll have to find another way. Through the smoke, I spot the bay window overlooking the alley. It's not ideal, but...
“Trust me?”
She nods against my chest, and I cradle her tighter. “Close your eyes.”
The glass breaks easily under my boot. Fresh air rushes in, feeding the flames, but giving us precious seconds. The drop isn't far and there's a snowbank below. I twist as we fall, taking the impact on my shoulder, keeping Kyla protected against my chest.
We roll to a stop just as the first fire engine rounds the corner, sirens wailing. But through the chaos, I spot something else; there are footprints in the snow, leading toward the woods. And I bet Trevor is watching, waiting to see if his plan worked.
“Chief!” I pass Kyla to Brock, who's already jumped down from the truck.
I don't wait for a response. The tracks are clear, and rage drives me forward. He nearly killed her. Nearly took everything.
I catch up to Trevor at the edge of the woods. He's not expecting anyone to follow him. The tackle is clean, driving him face-first into the snow.
“You're done,” I growl, pinning his arms. “You're never going to hurt her again.”
“You don't understand,” he spits. “Kyla's mine. She's always been mine. This stupid cookie store took her away. She needs to come back now.”
My hands tighten on his wrists and he yelps. By the time Sheriff Rion arrives, I've got Trevor in a vice-like grip. The sheriff takes one look at my face and wisely puts himself between us as he makes the arrest.
I run back to Cookie Corner. The fire's under control now, but the building is seriously damaged. Everything Kyla built, everything she dreamed is a smoking mess.
I find her wrapped in a blanket in the back of an ambulance, an oxygen mask covering her face. Tiffany is curled in her lap; Carl must have brought her back. When Kyla sees me, she throws herself into my arms, the cat protesting at being squashed between us.
“I thought...when I couldn't get out…” Her sweet voice breaks. “And Tiffany, he used her to…”
“I will always find you." I press my face into her hair. “Always. You're stuck with me now, gorgeous. I'm not letting you face anything alone ever again.”
She pulls back just enough to look at me, tears cutting trails through the soot on her cheeks. “Promise?”
“Promise. We'll rebuild Cookie Corner. Whatever you need. Together.”