Chapter 5

COURTNEY

I had hopped straight from the frying pan into the hellfire.

Instead of needing to worry about those guys who had visited my apartment with Jason yesterday, I now had to be concerned about the fact that I’d been caught by a member of the Hounds of Hellfire while breaking in—and setting fire to—their warehouse.

And not just anyone, but their vice president, based on the patch on the front of his leather vest.

The name above it was particularly appropriate, considering he had just saved me from a burning building.

And his gray eyes burned as he stared down at me, his hands planted on his narrow hips.

The position was intimidating, and he wasn’t the kind of guy who needed any advantages in that arena. Or any other one from what I could see.

Between the eight extra inches he had on me, the muscles, the hint of black ink I caught on his forearm, and his super-short brown hair…he was tall, dark, and dangerous personified. And the first man who’d ever brought my libido roaring to life.

Even right now, when my life might very well hang in the balance from two different threats—him being one of them—I found it difficult to resist Blaze’s lure.

He’d spanked me, tossed me onto his motorcycle, and forced me to come to his compound.

And yelled at me in front of his friends before carting me to his room.

But none of that made him less sexy. Only more so, if anything.

“You gonna tell me what the fuck you were doing at our warehouse?” he growled.

The dampening of my panties was a completely inappropriate reaction to his question.

It left me feeling irritated and confused, and for some reason, I decided to throw him some sass in an effort to cover it up.

Sitting up, I crossed my arms over my chest. “You told me not to say another word, remember?”

Shaking his head with a laugh, he arched a brow.

“Your feistiness is cute, baby. And sexy as hell, but you know damn well I didn’t mean for you to give me the silent treatment once I finally got you somewhere we could talk without anyone hearing what you have to say for yourself.

Can’t protect you until I know why the fuck you were at our warehouse or how you accidentally started the fire. So talk.”

Even with those last two gruff words, I was melting inside over the fact that he wanted to protect me. Especially with how we met since I couldn’t have left a good impression. Or even a halfway decent one.

I scooted to the end of the mattress and let my legs dangle off the edge. “I don’t even know where to begin.”

“How did the fire start?” he asked, pacing back and forth in front of his bed.

I guessed that spot was as good as any, so I yanked my flashlight out of my pocket and shook it.

“My batteries died, and I needed to be able to see what I was doing.

Since I cut the power just in case you had a security system, I couldn't turn on the lights. So I used a lighter, and the next thing I knew, the papers I was holding caught on fire. Everything quickly spiraled out of control from there.”

“Fire has a way of doing that,” he muttered. “Why were you looking in our files in the first place?”

It was wild that the part about how I’d set fire to his warehouse was the easiest part of my explanation. “Okay, so…this is going to sound like I'm making up a story to get out of trouble, but I swear I'm telling the truth.”

“It's that bad?” he asked, dropping onto the mattress beside me.

“Bad doesn't even begin to describe it,” I grumbled before going into everything that happened yesterday when Jason and those three guys forced their way into my apartment.

“How long ago did your roommate disappear?”

I gave him the timeline of the last time I saw Sabrina and also explained how I remembered her mentioning the Hounds on the phone, searched the bank’s system, and found the warehouse’s address.

“And that's why I broke in to search the files I found. It was a stretch, but I only have one more day left before they come looking for me, so I was desperate to find anything to help me figure out where Sabrina went. Or even just what she stole from her boyfriend before she disappeared.”

“How did you get into the warehouse?” His eyes narrowed. “The security needs to be updated on that building, but I know for a fact the doors were all locked and there aren’t any gaps in the fence.”

I pulled my multi-tool knife out of my pocket and showed him the scissors with a bashful smile. “It turns out that these are perfectly sized and shaped for lock picking.”

“That was resourceful of you,” he drawled. I could’ve sworn that I spied a glint of approval in his gray eyes, but I assumed I’d imagined it.

“Maybe.” I shrugged with a sigh. “But I’m still no match for those guys who beat up Jason.”

His expression didn't give anything away as he asked, “What did they look like?”

“Big and scary.” I squeezed my eyes shut as I tried to remember as many details as possible. “All three of them had dark hair. The biggest one had a full beard. The guy who grabbed me?—”

“Grabbed you?” Blaze echoed.

“Um, yeah. He tugged me into my apartment.”

“Where?” he growled.

My head tilted to the side. “Where what?”

“Where did he grab you?”

I lifted my elbow to look at my bicep. “My arm.”

“Let me see.” He gently rolled up my sleeve to check for a bruise, brushing his thumb against my bare skin. “It’s good he didn’t leave a mark. I might not kill him. But he still had no right to touch you. Which one did it?”

I gave him the rest of the details I remembered, and then he asked for Jason’s last name and everything I knew about my roommate.

“Fucking hell.” He scraped his palm over his cheek. “You weren't kidding when you said that it was bad.”

“I really wasn't,” I murmured with a shrug. “And that was before I set fire to your warehouse, for which I owe you a huge apology. I’m so sorry. I hope it looks worse than it is.”

“I hate to break it to you, baby, but the damage will be more than you expect.”

“Do you really think so?” I asked, my stomach in knots.

“Yeah,” he confirmed with a nod. “And I know what I'm talking about because fire is my business.”

I cocked my head to the side and stared at him, confused. “Your business?”

He nodded. “I’m a pyrologist. I work with all types of burns—controlled forest fires, explosives and demolition, and I even worked as an arson investigator.”

I dropped my head into my hands with a groan. “Oh my gosh. Of course I got caught by a freaking arson investigator when I accidentally started a fire while breaking and entering. I've never committed a crime before, not even jaywalking. And now I’m a…a felon.”

“They say go big or go home,” he chuckled. “And you sure as fuck did that.”

Wincing at the thought of how long it would take me to do it, I offered, “I can pay for the damage. Somehow.”

“Don’t worry, I got it covered.”

“That’s nice of you, but?—”

“Wasn’t being nice, baby,” he interrupted. Then he shook his head. “Don’t think anyone would use that word to describe me.”

My brows drew together. “I don’t get it. You just said there’s probably a lot more damage than I expect, and I assumed there was a ton. Why are you so insistent that you’ll take care of it for me?”

“Because I take care of what’s mine.”

My breath caught in my throat at his answer, butterflies swirling in my belly. I didn’t know how to respond, but that didn’t matter because he didn’t give me the chance.

Standing, he wrapped his hand around my wrist and tugged me to my feet. “Not good for you to sit around with all of that soot on you. It’s best to wash it off as soon as possible to limit absorption into your skin. Go take a shower.”

I glanced down at my hands, which were streaked with black gunk that matched my outfit. “At least I was wearing long sleeves.” Lifting a lock of my hair, I sniffed it with a grimace. “But that smoke smell is probably going to linger forever.”

“Use conditioner first. It works surprisingly well at removing soot.” He nudged me toward a closed door to our left.

“Will do.” I swept my hand down the length of my body. “But there’s one problem. I have nothing to wear, and my clothes are pretty much ruined.”

His eyes darkened to the color of slate as his gaze raked over me. “I’ll get you something to put on.”

“Thanks, I really appreciate it, Blaze.”

“Pax.”

I had no idea what that meant. “Pardon?”

“You call me Pax, not Blaze.”

“Oh, okay.” A thought suddenly struck me, and I blushed. “And I’m Courtney Cartwright. No nickname or anything, just Courtney.”

He smirked. “Like I said…so fucking cute.”

The color in my cheeks deepened as I padded over to the bathroom. After I shut the door behind me, I leaned back against the hard surface. “Whoa.”

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