Chapter 18
SABLE
"Let me out of here, asshole," I shouted.
Smoke started to waft in from outside. Frantically, I pulled against the post, trying to break either it or the handcuffs. Fully aware pulling down a support beam could bring the whole place down on top of me.
If I was lucky, I might reach the door before I was squashed.
The odds were better than being burned alive.
Maybe.
I lifted my foot and slammed it back into the post, heel first.
It shifted half an inch. That was enough to give me hope, and the energy to keep trying.
I slammed it again and again until my foot started to hurt. Then kept on kicking and shoving.
The smoke continued to rise.
"Don't panic," I told myself.
I kicked over and over, grunting harder each time. Sweat slid down my face.
The drywall cracked. Dust poured down from the ceiling.
I shook my head to keep it from drifting into my eyes. Leaning forward, I put all my weight on the handcuffs. Breathed deep and pulled. My wrists chafed, but the post moved.
The ceiling crumbled.
Crack.
The post burst away from the joists it was barely attached to.
I swerved to the side, narrowly missing being hit by the falling post.
Going to all that effort to pull it down, only to be knocked out by it, would suck. The post landed on the floor in a shower of dust.
I coughed, my eyes watering. Blinking away the moisture, I dragged the handcuffs down to the top of the post and off, navigating a chunk of drywall that came with it.
My hands still behind my back, I bolted for the door and shoved my shoulder against it. Of course it didn't move.
Cursing under my breath, I turned around and wrapped my hand around the knob, pushing it down and shoving the door open before I staggered out, gasping for air.
A moment later, the ceiling crashed down, sending up even more dust.
The flames at the base of the front of the house roared, all but engulfing what was left and sending it up in a wall of flame.
"You fucking suck," I snarled to Woody, who stood in the backyard, his hands in his pockets.
He glared at me as if I was rude for escaping.
"Sable!"
A car squealed to a halt in front of the house and Forrest and Leif both leapt out, racing toward me.
"What the fuck, dude?" Leif asked.
"Give me the keys," Forrest spoke coldly, his hand out toward Woody.
Woody glanced at him before turning his attention to the house, which was now fully engulfed.
"Pretty, isn't it?" he said.
"You're out of your mind," Leif said. He leapt at Woody, taking them both down to the ground, before Leif wrapped an arm around his throat, pinning him down in a headlock.
"The keys," Forrest said again.
Holding a struggling Woody, Leif searched his pockets before pulling out the handcuff keys. He tossed them to Forrest and rolled off Woody. They both sat on the grass, scowling at each other.
Forrest strode over to me and unlocked the handcuffs.
"Are you all right?" he asked, peering at my face, which was probably white with drywall dust.
"Yeah, more or less." I added my own scowl in Woody’s direction.
"No harm done," he said, his lips barely moving. Did he actually look disappointed?
"Apart from the fact I almost died, you mean?" I asked, coughing dust out of my lungs.
"You didn’t," he said.
"She could have." Leif shoved Woody with his elbow. "She's not the kind of person you're supposed to kill."
I stared at them both between coughs. "What sort of person are you supposed to kill?"
What kind of question was that? What kind of situation was this to start with?
Behind me, the fire was roaring but starting to die down. There was nothing nearby to burn, so chances were it'd burn itself out without damaging anyone else's life or property.
Unless, of course, Woody had other people stashed inside the house. At this point, I wouldn't be surprised.
"Come and sit down for a while." Forrest helped me down to the grass a couple of feet away from Woody. Too far to kick him in the nuts. For now. I wouldn't rule out doing that after I'd taken a few minutes.
"Did I mention I don't want you killing Sable?" Forrest asked him his, voice pure ice mixed with a hint of fine whiskey.
"Lucky for everyone she's a badass and managed to save herself," Leif said, grinning over at me.
I almost smiled back, but then I remembered our last conversation. I turned away instead.
He sighed and scooted over beside me.
"Look, I'm sorry for the twenty questions. I should have seen you were uncomfortable and stopped. I just…" He looked around at the other guys.
"Just what?" I asked.
Forrest squatted in front of me and took my hands. They were also covered in drywall dust.
"I know what happened the night Wolfgang was murdered was difficult for you."
"Yes, it was," I said carefully. Where were they going with this? "You know I didn't kill him."
He squeezed my hands. "We know that."
Woody snorted.
"We know you didn't kill him," Forrest said firmly, giving Woody the side eye. "We also know something else went on that night. Something you're not telling us."
I glanced down at the grass. It needed mowing. Like everything else on this property, it was a mess. Everything else, including me.
"I told you what happened," I whispered.
"Did you?" he asked. "If you're trying to cover for someone…"
I glanced up at him. "I'm not. I promise I don't know who they are."
He turned his head to the side slightly, one eyebrow raised. "I believe you. I also believe you left something out, something that might be important."
"Wolfgang would have killed me," I said, still whispering. "Sooner or later he would have." He had that in common with his son, apparently. "They saved me from that."
"You feel like you owe them?" Forrest asked.
"Yeah, I do," I said honestly.
"So you're holding something back because you don't want them to get in trouble," he reasoned.
I looked away without answering.
"I understand," he said softly. "You felt helpless and they…"
He trailed off, leaving me to say, "They gave me my life back. They let me be me again when I never thought I would be. They didn't judge me for not being able to walk away. They just…took care of him."
"Not all heroes wear capes," Leif said. "Some of them wear masks and dress in black."
Forrest gave him a brief, sharp look before turning back to me.
"I understand you want to protect them, but you'll feel better if you get whatever it is you're hiding off your chest. It might help you to move on with the rest of your life."
"What will you do if I tell you?" I looked into his eyes searchingly. If I was about to throw people under the bus, I might as well have stayed in the house and let the fire take me.
"That depends what you're about to say." He returned my intent look. "Like I said, I believe you when you told me you don't know who it was. Additional information may not change that."
I considered that for a moment. What did it matter if he knew one of them was a woman? Honestly, I suspected he wasn't letting me walk away until I told him everything, so I did.
I drew in a deep breath, then coughed as I inhaled more smoke and dust. When I was finished coughing, I managed to speak, low and succinct.
"I spoke to them for a minute before I went into the bathroom. One was a man, the other was a woman. They both sounded like they were from New York." Had I said too much? I couldn't take it back now.
Forrest nodded slowly, then glanced over to Woody.
"You want proof Sable did nothing to your father? I can get you that proof."
I clutched his hand. "What do you mean?"
Had I screwed up? Had I given him the clue he needed to find Wolfgang's killers? Was that what all of this was about? He wanted to get to the truth. To get to the bottom of what happened that night? Was it possible none of this was about me? He was using me for information.
He took my arms, just below my elbows.
"Listen to me. It's not what you think. I have some explaining to do if you're willing to listen."
He seemed sincere. I wanted to believe he was, more than I ever would have expected to. My feelings for him were already running deep. I hoped like hell they wouldn't bite me in the ass.
"I'm listening," I said carefully.
"There's some people you should meet," he said. "Back in the city. Do you feel well enough to travel?"
I looked down at my filthy clothes. "I feel fine, I'm just a mess."
"You're the definition of hot mess, though," he said with a smile. "You look adorable with drywall dust on your nose."
He wiped it off with the pad of his thumb before kissing the tip of my nose.
"We'll go back to your place so you can clean up. Then I'll get you and Woody the answers you need. After that, he can apologize to you."
I eyed Woody. "He doesn't look very sorry."
"He will be," Forrest said. "He better start thinking up some ways to make it up to you."
Woody grunted. He also didn't believe he was going to have to make anything up to me. If it wasn't for that rotten post, I'd be dead right now.
As if he read my mind, Forrest said, "We wouldn't have let you die. Would we, Woody?"
Woody smirked and pushed himself to his feet. "Text me the address," he said before stalking off to his car and climbing inside.
"That's it?" I asked. "He’s going to walk away from what he did?"
"Believe me," Forrest said, "he's going to be very, very sorry for it."
Excuse me if I was skeptical, but he didn't seem too sorry about another attempt to kill me.
"Woody would have pulled you out of there before the house went up," Leif said.
I wished I could be as sure of that as he was. Woody seemed quite comfortable watching me burn.
The strange thing was, he seemed to be as into that kiss as I was. I shouldn't even be thinking about it. My body certainly shouldn't be reacting the way it was. I shouldn't wonder how it would feel to kiss him again, to go further than that.
Ugh, I was as out of my mind as Woody. No one ever said physical attraction made sense. That was all it was though. No way in the world I'd ever fall for someone like him. The way my pulse raced when I was around him? That was an involuntary reaction, my body being crazy.
I had to get that under control before I made some very bad choices.
Forrest and Leif each took one of my hands and helped me to my feet and over to the car.
"You have bruises on your wrist," Leif said, rubbing at them gently.
"That happens when you have to pull down a house when you're handcuffed," I said.
"That is a blatant misuse of handcuffs," Leif said, clicking his tongue. "Handcuffs are supposed to be used with bedposts, not supporting columns."
He winked at me, then opened the car door and gestured for me to climb inside.
If I had had any sense, I'd turn and walk, find my own way back to the city.
Instead, I slid into the car between Leif and Forrest. There was no going back now until we got to my place, not nestled between them as I was.
Should I feel this safe with these men? I didn’t know, but in spite of my better judgment, I was.
I had a feeling, one way or another, these men were going to be the death of me.
Or vice versa.