Fourteen #2
He loved her. He hadn’t rejected her. He’d just been focused on his mom, like he’d said, but her fears and past experience had given her a misconceived idea about his motives. Just like Rick had planted false thoughts about her father.
The enemy had a way of doing that—pressing on your fears to make you even more fearful and paranoid. No more.
“You better believe it, Slate.” She fell into him, and he bent, lips warm from the fire, and he tenderly kissed her. It was its own kind of fire. A slow burn, kindling and catching, igniting into a solid flame that hinted of a wildfire to come if they let it burn longer.
Now wasn’t the time for that. But she savored the promise to come.
This guaranteed a future for them. A forever fire.
One that wouldn’t burn them. Wouldn’t sear or maim or consume them to ash.
But an eternal flame that would grow in warmth as their love fought for each other every day.
It would keep them warm on cold nights. Be a light that always pointed them to one another, to home.
This kiss hinted to a lifetime of kindling. A lifetime of sparks.
Finally, Trevor gently broke the kiss. “I really do love you, Helena.”
“I know.”
“And I will always protect you, be your partner.”
“Won’t mind the grease under my nails sometimes? The fact I’m not a girlie girl?”
Trevor’s grin stretched wide but then he sobered as if he knew her deepest insecurities, and his eyes sent a dip into her stomach.
“Helena, I’m not sure what a girlie girl is.
I’m pretty sure I don’t want one. I have a woman.
A brave, honest, determined woman who sets her mind to what she wants and makes it happen.
She does honest work and, quite frankly, I don’t like changing my own oil or patching tires.
And sometimes I forget which cable goes to which on a car battery. So, in my book, I have a win-win here.”
Tears filled her eyes. This was what she wanted to hear. Needed to hear.
“If you keep us in omelets, I’ll keep our cars working.”
“That’s a deal for a lifetime and I’m not stupid enough to say no to it.” He grinned again and came back for a quick kiss.
The fire was being contained thanks to the quick work of firefighters, but the thick, choking scent clung to her skin and clothes.
Her legs were weak and trembling, her muscles spasming like they might give out beneath her.
She was leaning hard against the cold steel of a police cruiser, gripping the door handle like it was the only thing holding her upright.
Around her, the night was alive with the harsh glow of flashing red and blue lights. The whistles and shouts of officers floated through the air. Somewhere nearby, the fire trucks hissed and groaned, their hoses still pumping water onto smoldering brush.
Lark sat obediently by Helena’s side, her fur streaked with soot and leaves, her golden eyes sharp and alert despite the exhaustion written across her face and the adoration for her handler, and for Helena.
Trevor was called away. Chuck was on the scene, too.
She and Trevor were both survivors of something terrible. Rick had chased her to the edge of that cliff; let her fall like he’d let her father plummet.
The smoke and heat had nearly ravaged her, but God hadn’t left her alone and He’d sent Trevor. He’d been there—his steady hands pulling her back, keeping her grounded when everything around them was falling apart. It was a moment she would never forget.
“Helena.”
The soft sound of Trevor’s voice pulled her from her thoughts, gentle and low. She turned to him, blinking through the haze of exhaustion and smoke.
“They found him,” he said simply. “Rick. He was trying to escape on the back road.”
Helena’s heart relaxed. The man who had hunted her, who had tried to burn everything she loved to ashes, was finally caught.
“It’s over,” Trevor said quietly, as if hearing her thoughts. “No more running.”
Hope grew by leaps and bounds within her.
Helena’s voice was weak when she finally spoke. “It’s hard to believe…but it’s true. He’s finally caught. Thank God.”
Trevor stepped closer, his eyes searching hers. “We made it through the fire. We’re still here.”
She nodded, but the exhaustion dogged her. “I’m praying I’ll be able to get the image of my dad falling to his death at his brother’s hands out of my mind and my dreams at night. I feel so guilty for allowing negative thoughts about him in.”
He reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face, his fingers warm against her skin. “I know. But rest in the fact he’s no longer afraid. No longer worried. He’s at peace.”
His phone buzzed and he checked it, his eyes filling with moisture.
“What is it?”
“She’s gone, Helena. My Mom’s passed on.”
“She’s no longer hurting, either. No longer in pain. Are you okay? Do you regret not being there?” she asked. If he hadn’t been out here searching for her, he could have been with his mother. Would he resent her for that in the months to come?
“No.” He kissed her on the forehead. “She would have wanted me to rescue my future. We’ll see her again. We’ll see them both again.”
The sincerity in his voice was like a lifeline, something she hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath for. “We will.” She wrapped her arms around him, holding him in a comforting embrace as he grieved the woman he’d loved his whole life. She was now the one who would love him the rest of his.
Helena glanced down at Lark, who lifted her head and gave a soft, reassuring whine.
The dog’s presence was a balm—steady and loyal, a reminder that no matter how dark the night, she wasn’t alone.
She had them both. And God had never left her.
He’d been with her through it all, giving her strength and courage.
Hope.
Faith.
And when it had become shaky, when she’d felt alone in the darkness, Trevor had given her some of his to lead them through.
As the officers continued to secure the perimeter and the last of the flames died away, Helena sank down onto the scorched earth, her knees brushing the blackened soil. She could still feel the heat radiating off the ground, the faint hiss of embers beneath the cooling ash.
Trevor sat beside her, close enough that their shoulders touched. The silence between them was comfortable, filled with shared understanding rather than words.
“I thought Rick had gotten away,” Helena murmured after a long moment. “After everything he did…how he tried to ruin us.”
Trevor nodded. “He underestimated you. Underestimated how far you’d go to find the truth. Didn’t realize your resilience.”
A bitter smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “And yet, I almost lost everything.”
“You didn’t,” he said firmly. “You fought. You survived. And in the end, it brought us together. I’d like to make that permanent.”
The confession caught her off guard. She looked up at him, searching his eyes for any sign of doubt, but found only honesty and hope. He wasn’t proposing, but he might as well be.
“I want that, too,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.
Trevor gently curled his fingers around hers. “We’ll grieve and heal together. We’ll build back what Rick’s fires ate.”
The night air was cold now, but the warmth of his hand was steady and sure.
Helena closed her eyes, letting the moment wash over her. For the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to believe in something beyond fear—in the possibility of healing, of future moments shared without shadows lurking.
When she opened her eyes, the stars were bright overhead, their light piercing the smoke and darkness like silent witnesses to her promise to herself.
“I’m ready,” she said softly. “Ready to keep moving forward.”
Trevor smiled, a slow, genuine curve of his lips that made her heart ache in the best way. “Then let’s start.”
As they sat together in the quiet aftermath, a tenuous thread of hope weaved through the night—delicate, but unbreakable.