Deadly Heat (Deadly #2)(51)
Author: Cynthia Eden

What do I do? If he comes after Kenton, what am I supposed to do?

She exhaled. Dammit, she needed to see him.

The smell hit her, acrid and harsh, filling her nostrils. A smell she knew all too well.

Lora jumped from her bed in an instant and ran to the window. Her fingers fumbled as she struggled to open the lock, then she shoved up the glass pane.

Smoke and fire surrounded her house. A line of flames circled the house and licked at the wood, rising quickly up the side.

How much heat can you handle?

He’d come after her.

She whirled away, grabbed the thick covers off her bed, and ran for the stairs.

When he left the station, Kenton knew exactly where he was headed, and he couldn’t get there fast enough.

He wanted Lora. He wanted to see her and touch her. He wanted her in his bed.

After Phoenix’s threat—and dealing with the captain’s bullshit—Kenton needed to see her, just to make certain she was all right, because there was a knot in his gut, had been all night.

He’d just take a quick look. Just go by her house to make sure she was safe.

Hell, I’m worse than a kid. Some lovesick, desperate teenager.

But he was still going by her house.

He turned the corner leading to the white house at 209 Maple, and his heart stopped.

Greedy, thick flames engulfed her house. Rising up, higher…

His foot shoved on the brake, and he was out of the SUV, running toward her house, in seconds. “Lora!”

Blue lights flashed. The cop was there, too, radioing for help.

Where the hell was Lora? His head whipped to the left, to the right.

Christ. In the house.

Kenton raced forward. “Lora!”

A tumble of white flew across the flames, jumping, spinning, hitting the ground, and then rolling hard.

Fire ate at the fabric, and Lora shoved out of—what? Bedcovers? She heaved them back, then slammed the covers against the ground, pounding out the flickering fire.

“Lora.” He grabbed her, hauling her close, and his hands wrapped around her bare arms. She only wore a tight T-shirt and an old pair of shorts. So much delicate, unprotected skin—she could have burned.

But she pushed at him. “We’ve got to get back, the fire—” They stumbled back. The scent of smoke hit him and the crackle of the flames filled his ears

He caught her hands and pulled her with him. In the distance, more sirens screamed.

“Are you hurt?” Kenton demanded.

“I wasn’t asleep.” Her face tilted back to stare up at him. “I smelled the smoke.”

He’d come after her. That bastard had come for Lora.

Kenton turned on the cop. “Where the f**k were you?”

The uniform backed up a step and slammed into the side of his car. “C-circling. Some kid r-ran a stop sign. I–I stopped him—”

And that ass**le had slipped right up to Lora’s house.

“I’m not watching it burn.” She wrenched free. “Stay here.”

What? Oh, hell, no.

But she was running, long legs gleaming, as she streaked around the house. The yellow fire was rising higher, and thick, black smoke drifted into the air.

He took off after her.

She yanked out a hose, wrenched the nozzle, and let a powerful spray of water hit the house. The burst of water knocked back the flames a bit, but didn’t put out the fire.

More sirens screamed, louder now and closer.

Coming fast because the teams racing to the scene had to know they were coming for one of their own.

The fire flared higher, and the scent of gasoline burned his nose. “Lora, come on, we need to get back—”

The hose wasn’t working, she had to see that. He wasn’t going to risk her. With all that bare skin, she’d be hurt, too easy, too fast.

She looked at him, her eyes wide and big. “This is my home. He came after my home.”

No, sweetheart, he came after you.

Kenton pulled the hose from her hand. “Come on…”

It was too hot there. The heat burned against his skin.

Lora’s shoulders dropped as she watched the fire. If she’d been asleep… if those cops had been a little slower…

His jaw clenched. It wouldn’t have mattered. I would have gone in and dragged her out. No f**king way I would have left her for the fire.

They hurried back to the front of the house. A few of her neighbors were out, watching in their robes, their wide eyes on the burning house.

Tell me, Lora, how much heat can you handle?

Kenton was going to rip the bastard apart.

He shrugged off his suit jacket and wrapped it around Lora’s shoulders.

“Kent—”

He kissed her because he needed her. Fire burns so fast. His mouth took hers, crushing her lips.

She moaned low in her throat, a husky little sound that tested his control. Her mouth opened wider, and her tongue slipped past his lips.

I could have lost her. But she was in his arms now, held tight. Not ripped away.

Not like before. She’s safe. His lips pressed harder against her mouth because the fear churning in his gut was all too real.

“Kenton! Dammit, Kenton, what the hell happened?”

His head snapped to the right. Jon was there, running toward him. A fire truck parked crookedly behind him, and the men scrambled down, yanking out hoses. Coming for Lora.

She tried to pull away from him, but Kenton clamped his hand around her wrist and held tight.

“Gasoline,” Lora said, her voice shaking a bit. “I smelled it…” She took a deep breath. “He poured it all around the house, then started the fire.”

But she’d gotten out and saved herself.

Because his Lora was one fine woman. Strong. Smart. Not afraid of the fire.

“Lora!” A hulking firefighter covered by his brown coat raced toward her. “You all right?” His eyes darted from Kenton, to her, and to the hand that Kenton wasn’t about to free.

“I’m fine, Tony.” Her chin came up. Always did. “I got out before…” She glanced back.

The firefighters were working on her house. Water shot at the flames, hard and heavy.

Smoke billowed.

Voices raged.

She shook her head. “That ass**le is gonna pay.”

“Sure as shit is.” Garrison’s voice. He stalked toward them, his eyes slits as he glared at Kenton and Jon. “This the way you handle your cases? You put my people in harm’s way?” Garrison spat on the ground.

Kenton’s jaw clenched.

But Lora snapped back, “It’s not his fault. You want to blame someone? Blame the guy who started this. My home. He came at me, the bastard came at me.” Rage was heavy in her voice, not fear.