Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
Jesslyn jerked the wheel while the smell of gasoline enveloped her and flames erupted in her back seat. She had no time to scream, only react. Her car spun like a fatally wounded beast, swerving, then skidding, tires screeching a desperate protest against the asphalt.
She saw the edge of the road coming, jammed the brakes, and prayed she’d stop in time. But reality punched her. She was too close to the side and gripped the steering wheel in disbelief when she slid over and started down the embankment.
Gravity won.
The car rolled, a tumble of metal and glass, each impact a brutal assault. Her body jerked with each jarring movement, her seat belt the only thing that kept her from crashing from window to window. The flames that had started in the back crept toward the front, the temperature climbing, the smoke swirling.
And then her car came to a stop with one last gut-wrenching crunch. She hung suspended and dizzy, choking on the smoke. “God, please,” she whispered. “Help.”
The world had finally stopped spinning and she heard someone calling her name. The sound of harsh gasps filled her ears, and it took her a moment to realize the breaths were coming from her. She sucked in another gulp of air and discovered that was a bad move. She choked and coughed, the fumes and smoke suffocating. She blinked and tried to take inventory. Her shoulder and hip hurt, but surprisingly, that was it.
Adrenaline.
She dreaded how she’d feel when that wore off.
But she was alive. For the moment.
And it was time to get out of the vehicle.
She fumbled for the seat belt release with trembling fingers and it let go. She collapsed onto the driver’s side door, now her floor.
A sharp pain grabbed her leg when she stood and she had to use precious seconds to pound out the flames licking her pants. Then she stood on the edge of the seat and pressed the power button for the passenger window. A sob escaped her when it rolled down. Thank you, Jesus. She started to haul herself out of the vehicle.
Weakness gripped her, blackness swirled around the edges of her vision, and she started to slide back into the now burning inferno. If she dropped, she’d die.
A sob ripped from her throat, and she clung, clawing for a grip while her dangling right foot sought a place to find purchase.
And then a strong hand clamped around her right wrist and yanked. “Come on, Jesslyn, hold on!” With Nathan’s help, she moved up enough to plant her elbows on the side of the door and push, lifting herself out while he pulled. One moment, she was seconds from certain death and the next she was tumbling out of the passenger window and over the side to land with a hard thud on the ground. Nathan let go of her hand while she coughed and gagged, the smoke in her lungs greedily sucking all the oxygen from them.
Nathan lay on the ground next to her, having landed beside her when they fell from the vehicle. His white face scared her and she rolled toward him. “We have to move, Nathan. The car could explode.”
“Yeah, I know.” He spoke through gritted teeth, and she suspected he’d landed on his hip or maybe the rescue had caused him a massive amount of pain. Or both. With a half grunt, half groan, he pushed himself into a standing position. She did the same and took his hand.
Thankfully, the little roll down the embankment wasn’t much, although it had felt like it lasted a lifetime. She’d done a three-sixty and a quarter in the car and hit a part of the ground that sloped upward. That slope had stopped her. She coughed, her lungs protesting the smoke inhalation. She was going to need an inhaler for the next year if she kept this up.
Together, she and Nathan made their way up the incline, with him leaning against her and her encouraging him that he could make it. At the top, several bystanders waited, many on their phones. That meant help was on the way.
“You can make it. Just one foot in front of the other.”
His answer was another grunt.
Hands reached for them as they crested the top, and Nathan went to his knees. “Sorry,” he said with a gasp, “gotta sit a minute.”
Jesslyn rested a hand on his shoulder while she tried to cough more smoke from her lungs. She looked at the burning vehicle, her stomach twisting into one big knot. How had she survived that? She glanced at the man beside her. “You saved my life, Nathan.”
“It was a team effort.”
Sirens sounded and Jesslyn lowered herself to the ground, her knees turning weak and her adrenaline starting to fade. “I think someone wants me dead,” she said.
“Really? What gave you that idea?”
She chuckled, only to go into another coughing spasm which led to tears that streamed down her cheeks. She wiped her face and sniffed, then coughed again.
She hadn’t inhaled that much smoke, had she? While everything seemed to happen in slow motion, it had actually been relatively quick.
Hadn’t it?
She honestly had no idea.
Nathan grabbed her hand and pulled her to him. She winced at the sting in her fingers and palms and held them up to look at them. They were raw, burned, and bleeding. Her leg joined the pain party, and she gave in to lean against the man who’d literally risked his life to pull her from a burning car. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“Any time.”
NATHAN WALKED ... okay, limped ... down the hospital hallway to Jesslyn’s room on the fourth floor, trying to contain his rage. Kenny had been released and two hours later, Jesslyn—and he—almost died. That was a bit of a coincidence for him. And yet, how would he know where Jesslyn was going? With enough time to arrange to be lying in wait to attack her? He wasn’t sure but figured Kenny could supply those answers.
Nathan had already requested Kenny be picked back up and held for questioning, influential parents or not—and the chief had agreed. The timing couldn’t be denied. It would take Nathan a minute to get to the station to question the kid, because honestly, that wasn’t his priority at the moment. First, he was checking on Jesslyn.
She’d been admitted for observation against her protests that she was fine and could go home. Lainie put her foot down, and when Jesslyn’s aunt Carol showed up, that was the end of the argument.
Nathan had managed to avoid the same fate by promising he planned to stay close to Jesslyn—with the exception of the visit to the station to talk to Kenny Davies. Lainie could check on him when she checked on Jesslyn. He had some cuts and bruises, but surprisingly no burns. Jesslyn had some first- and second-degree burns on her hands, but the one that hurt the most was on her right leg.
Thankfully, shockingly, the smoke inhalation had been mild. Enough to irritate her lungs once more, but she should heal with meds and breathing treatments.
His phone buzzed with an incoming text, and he glanced at the summary notification. Something about Jesslyn’s vehicle—he’d check it in a minute. He knocked and pushed the door open at the call to come in. Jesslyn sat up in the bed, her laptop open on her lap. While her hands were wrapped in bandages, most of her fingers were free. Her aunt Carol sat in the chair by the window reading a book by someone named Elizabeth Goddard. She put it down—reluctantly—at his entrance.
He smiled. “Hello. I’m Nathan.”
“Oh hi,” she said, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Jesslyn’s mentioned you.” Her dark hair was pulled into a ponytail. Her jeans were torn at the knees and her Gamecocks sweatshirt about two sizes too big. She might be in her midfifties, but she looked about twenty years younger. “I hear you’re quite the hero,” she said, her voice soft.
Heat crept into his cheeks and he wanted to duck his head in an “aw shucks” kind of way. Instead, he simply shook it. “I did what needed to be done. So did Jesslyn.”
“I couldn’t have gotten out of that car without your help, Nathan,” Jesslyn said. Her voice was soft, raspy, low. “Just so you know. If you hadn’t been there...” She shuddered.
Carol stood and placed her book on the table. “I’m going to grab a coffee while you two chat. I’ll be back in a bit.”
She left and Jesslyn burst into tears. Sobbing as though she’d lost her best friend—or her entire family. Feeling helpless, Nathan wondered if he should go after her aunt or track down Lainie.
He decided to man up. If he could handle a burning car, he could handle her tears.
Hopefully.
He thought he might prefer the car, though. Not because he didn’t want her to cry, but he didn’t know how to stop her pain—and he wanted to. Just about more than anything else on earth at the moment.
He sat on the bed next to her and slid an arm around her shoulders, unsure if it would comfort her. He braced himself for her to push him away, but instead, she leaned into him and he pulled her into a full embrace. She wrapped her arms around his waist and went silent.
After about five seconds of quiet, he asked, “You okay?”
“Yes. Sorry. I’ve needed a good cry for hours and I couldn’t in front of Aunt Carol.”
But she could in front of him? Interesting.
She pulled back and dried her face with the sheet, then let out a low sigh. “Sorry to blubber all over you. I couldn’t hold it in any longer.” She shrugged. “I’m only a crier when things have built up and I feel like I’m going to explode. This latest thing was the dead man’s switch, I guess.”
He held up a hand. “No apologies necessary.”
“How’s your hip?”
“It’s fi—” The words froze on his lips at her look. “Okay, it’s not fine. It hurts.”
“Did you do more damage when we fell from the car?”
“No, it wasn’t far and I actually landed on the other hip, so at least that was a blessing.” She raised a brow at him. “And yes,” he said, “I had it x-rayed again. It’s just going to hurt a while.”
“I’m sorry.” A pause. “What am I going to do, Nathan?” she blurted. “This guy is serious about killing me, I do believe.”
He told her about Kenny, and she gaped, then snapped her lips shut. “So, it could be him.”
“Could be.”
“But how did he know where to find me? How would he know the route I’d be on?”
“One sec. I got a text—something about your car.” He pulled out his phone and read the message that had come in earlier. He pursed his lips.
“What?” she demanded.
“Well, we know how he found you. There was a tracker on it. One of the guys who loaded it on the wrecker spotted it.”
She swallowed. “Okay. That makes sense. I should have been checking, I guess.”
“Yeah. We all should have been checking. And will do so going forward. And as soon as Kenny’s located, we’ll bring him back in for questioning. A lab tech will look for any kind of residue on his hands to show he handled the Molotov cocktail ingredients, but the problem is, unless we can place him there with a witness, we still won’t have much to hold him on. And he still has to be found.” He glanced at his phone, hoping for a text saying Kenny was at the station, but so far, nothing.
“Right.”
“Why don’t you talk to Lainie and Kenzie and see how they mentally handled having someone after them?” He hadn’t been around during those times in their friends’ lives, but he’d sure heard about them.
“Maybe. I mean, I was right there with them through most of it. I’m not sure what they could tell me now that they didn’t tell me then.”
“But maybe you have different questions now?”
She hesitated. “I’ll think about it.”
The door opened and Lainie entered, followed by James, Steph, and her boyfriend Detective Tate Cooper, then Kenzie, Cole, Andrew, and Kristine.
Jesslyn coughed and laughed, then coughed some more. “Whoa, guys, this is a bit much. I’m okay.”
Kenzie walked over and narrowed her eyes at Jesslyn. “You know, we’ve had some adventures over the last year or so and you were right there with us, supporting us and watching out for us. We’re here to do the same for you.”
Nathan thought she might burst into tears again. Instead, she sucked in a ragged breath, coughed ... and nodded. “Thanks,” she whispered.
“All of your firefighter buddies are outside too,” Kristine said. “Well, probably not all of them but a good many.”
“That’s nice. Tell them to stick their heads in on your way out if you don’t mind.”
“Sure thing.”
“When did you get back?” Jesslyn asked. “Thought you were gone for another few days.”
“I caught an early flight to deal with some family stuff.” She didn’t elaborate, but the look on Jesslyn’s face said she didn’t have to.
There was a story behind that, and he couldn’t help but be a little curious about it, but he could ask Jesslyn later. Right now, they needed to leave so she could rest.
The other firefighter buddies came in small groups to wish her well and stayed only a short time. He was relieved he didn’t have to kick anyone out. Not that it was his job to do so, but Jesslyn’s fatigue was obvious. And besides, if she slept, he could too.
He settled himself in the cushioned chair as comfortably as his hip would allow.
“You’re sticking around for a while?” she asked, eyes drooping.
“At least until your aunt returns. She stuck her head in, left me her number”—he lifted the Post-it that Lainie had passed to him—“and said she’d be back later this afternoon.”
“Good.”
“You said you grew up with your aunt and two cousins. How old are they?”
“Ginger’s twenty-four and is getting married in June. Sandy’s twenty-two and working as a vet tech while she decides what she wants to do with the rest of her life.”
“Do you get along with them?”
“Sure. I’m three years older than Ginger, and Sandy was two when I moved in. They’ve never really known life without me. They’re not the sisters I lost, but they became the sisters of my heart.”
“What about your uncle?”
“A loser. We don’t talk much about him. He left us.”
Her voice drifted off and her eyes closed. They’d probably given her something for pain. He wouldn’t mind something himself. He dug in his pocket for the ibuprofen the nurse had given him and swallowed them dry. Then leaned his head back and closed his eyes, wanting to know more about the uncle, but that would have to wait. He’d just rest until Carol came back. He hoped she took her time because he wasn’t sure he could move.