Fury on Fire

  Pressed against the expanse of her door, she could only watch. Stare and marvel at the fury of North Callaghan. She had never seen the like. The man was a firestorm, a hurricane of rage. Bone smacked bone as he hammered blow after blow.

  In this moment, this man appeared capable of murder. His face was twisted into an expression of rage, so unlike the impassive expression he usually wore. She shuddered and brought her arms around herself, hugging tightly.

  Grimes was under him now and North kept hitting him and hitting him, breathing hard, angry pants as he swung his fists over and over.

  She heard her voice emerge. It sounded tinny and far away even to her ears. “North! Stop! You’ll kill him!”

  Other voices arrived then, too. Down the street people surfaced, coming out of their houses to investigate the commotion.

  “North! North!” Fear for him fueled her. She stepped forward to seize his arm, her voice urgent and desperate. “You need to stop.”

  He did not even seem to hear her. He was a man possessed. He shook off her grip, so she added a second hand clutching him harder, shaking him harder, not to be deterred.

  He straightened suddenly and turned on her, swinging around, a savage light in his eyes, as though he meant to strike her next. She lunged back a step with a gasp, her hand flying to her face as though to shield herself.

  North stopped and shook himself. Blinking, he stared at her as though coming out of a daze. “Faith,” he whispered and his voice sounded broken. It took everything in her not to go to him then. Not to wrap her arms around him.

  “What’s happening here?” a neighbor walking up her driveway called.

  She held North’s stare. “North . . . are you okay?”

  He looked down at his hands. She followed his gaze, noting his cracked knuckles. She made a small sound of distress at the apparent damage.

  He looked back up at her, his eyes ravaged. He moved forward in a few jerking steps. She didn’t shrink away as he came at her with his wrecked hands.

  He said her name again. “Faith?” He took her face in his hands, angling her chin higher so that the porch light hid nothing. His breath escaped him in a hiss at whatever he saw. His hands slid lower, his fingers grazing her tender neck and making her wince.

  “He did this to you.” He made a growling sound and made a move toward Grimes as though he intended to finish his beating.

  She snatched hold of him and tugged him back to her, her hands tight on his waist. “North, no. Leave it be.” She glanced around uneasily at the gathering of neighbors.

  Grimes lay on the ground, moaning and writhing. He would not be getting up without assistance. She sighed. There was nothing to be done for it. They would have to call the police and an ambulance. She stifled a groan. The city police department worked closely with the sheriff’s office. Once her name was given, the SHPD would immediately notify her brother. She would have to file a report. Press charges.

  Almost as though she’d summoned them, sirens started wailing in the distance. Apparently someone had already called the authorities.

  North turned his head in the direction of the sound, too. “It’s about to get real now,” he muttered.

  Dread pooled in her stomach and bottomed out when she recognized her brother’s Bronco swerving onto her street. Of course he would get here first, even before the SHPD.

  He came to a stop with a hard push on the brakes. He was probably alerted once he heard her address on dispatch. Or maybe someone heard about it on the police scanner and notified him. Or maybe Doris called him. Whatever the case, he was here and things were about to get a whole lot more complicated.

  Her brother was walking up her driveway with murder in his eyes as two SHPD cruisers pulled onto the street. She spotted Ford Willis through the windshield of one of the cars. He had gone to high school with Faith and also happened to be their minister’s kid. You couldn’t meet a nicer person than Ford. He couldn’t even bring himself to give out speeding tickets.

  She sighed and then winced because the action of exhaling that hard actually hurt her throat. North was watching her closely. He did not miss her reaction. He tilted her chin up and his thumb lightly brushed the raw skin of her throat, his expression tightening with concern.

  Suddenly her brother was there, shouldering his way through neighbors. He took one glance at North and looked ready to start a beat down of his own. “Callaghan!” he roared.

  Naturally, he would think this was somehow the felon’s fault. She shook her head and stepped in front of North, holding up her hands. “Hale, stop! He didn’t do anything!”

  Her brother’s bigger body collided with her hands, but he didn’t seem inclined to stop and listen to her. He kept walking forward, pushing against her hands, ready to plow through her to get to North. “No! Stop! It wasn’t him. He didn’t do anything.”

  Except save her life. He did do that.

  She turned, still keeping one hand on her brother’s chest to ward him off. She looked up at North. “He saved my life.”

  North didn’t even glance at her brother. His eyes were glued to her face, as though she were the only person in the world . . . the only one who mattered in this scene of chaos.

  “What the hell happened?” Hale demanded, not one to waste time getting to the point.

  She shook her head and quickly realized that was a mistake. Dizziness swamped her and she staggered to the side. North let loose a curse beside her. Before she knew what was happening he swept her up into his arms. Closing her eyes against the spinning world, she pressed a hand to her forehead.

  Dimly she heard her brother exclaim something. She wasn’t sure what he said, but there may have been a curse word or two trickled in there. North carried her a short distance. And then she was no longer moving. She sank down onto something soft and yielding.

  She opened her eyes slowly. All she could see, the only thing she could even look at in that moment, was North’s face hovering so close to her own.

  “North,” she breathed.

  “I’m here, Faith.”

  NINETEEN

  The son of a bitch tried to kill her. There was no mistake about it. If North had been two minutes, even one minute later, Faith could be dead.

  He could have been too late. Too late again. The story of his life.

  He took a peek through the blinds, sending a glance to where the bastard was writhing on the ground. His hands curled into fists at his side. The urge to continue beating the shit out of the guy was overwhelming. One of the officers that had just arrived was cuffing him even as a medic attended him.

  He looked back down to where Faith sat on the couch. Another medic was examining her. He forced himself to stand back. It wasn’t easy. He longed to touch her. Feel her. Know that she was okay. He didn’t even care that her brother was there. Her brother. The sheriff. The one guy with enough power to ruin his life. To take away his freedom. And he didn’t give a shit.

  “I’m fine,” Faith insisted, not for the first time, to the medic. Her imploring gaze lifted over the woman’s head to her brother.

  “Let her finish looking you over,” Hale Walters commanded, his thumb hooked inside his gun belt. He must have felt North’s stare. He cast him a quick look. The wariness was still in his eyes. North might have saved Faith’s life tonight, but her brother still didn’t fully trust him.

  “I’m fine. I just want to go to bed and forget this night ever happened.”

  “You can’t do that yet,” her brother commanded. “We need a statement from you about what—”

  “Maybe you can do that later,” North suggested. “I’m sure it won’t hurt to wait until tomorrow morning.”

  The sheriff stared at him with hard eyes as though he wanted nothing more than to slap some cuffs on him and throw him in a cell. “That’s not protocol—”

  “She’s your sister,” he bit out. “I’m sure you can be flexible for her.”

  Walters’s gray eyes shot to flint. “I know who she is, a
sshole. I don’t need the reminder.” He stabbed a finger in North’s direction. “This doesn’t concern you . . . she doesn’t concern you and you don’t forget that—”

  “Hale,” Faith interrupted. “He saved my life.” She motioned to her door where somewhere beyond her attacker was being hauled away. “That guy was choking me. He would’ve finished me if North hadn’t been here.”

  The medic stood then. She closed up her kit and lifted it off the floor beside the couch. “She looks all right.” Her glance slid over each of them uncertainly. “I’ll go now.”

  She stepped out and the door snicked shut after her.

  Walters opened his mouth, clearly wanting to argue with Faith, wanting to reject that he owed North any thanks at all, but then his gaze swung to his sister and something softened in his eyes. Clearly he loved his sister and didn’t want to add misery to her already shitty night.

  She lifted her ravaged eyes to her brother. “Can I just give my statement in the morning?”

  She trembled slightly. Walters must’ve noticed it, too. He nodded jerkily. “Sure, Faithy. You get some rest tonight. It can wait.”

  Walters left them alone in the living room, walking down the hall and disappearing into her bathroom.

  North looked down at Faith to find her already watching him. “You should get your hands checked out,” she said.

  He flexed his sore knuckles. “I’ll be fine. Had worse.”

  She studied him, her gaze unreadable.

  “Who was that guy? Did you know him?”

  “Just a lost soul . . . angry at the world.” She sighed and moved her hands to her throat. She gently rubbed the skin there. His gaze followed the movement, his stomach knotting. The red smudges were already starting to bruise in the definite shape of fingers. “And angry at me. I’m a social worker. Sometimes that means I piss people off. Goes with the territory.”

  “Oh. This happens a lot then?” He didn’t like that. He didn’t like knowing there were people out there who wanted to hurt her. Scum who could get it into their heads that they could put their hands on her.

  She shook her head. “Nope. This was the first time.”

  “Maybe you should consider a change of careers.”

  “I like my job. Tonight doesn’t change that. One bad day—”

  “He tried to kill you,” he snapped. “That’s more than a bad day.”

  Her brother returned then with two Tylenol in his hand and a glass of water. “Take these.”

  She obeyed, downing the pills with a swallow of water. “Thanks,” she whispered.

  “Why don’t I stay for—”

  “No. I’m fine.”

  “You sure?”

  “I’m just going to bed. It’s not like that guy is going to come back. And besides . . .” Her gaze drifted to North. She was going to say he lived next door, but decided against it. That still might not be a good thing in her brother’s mind.

  Hale’s lips tightened, compressing into a hard line. Yeah. He knew what she was going to say and he didn’t like it. With a reluctant sigh, he turned to face North. “Appears I was wrong about you. I owe you my thanks.” He gave a single nod.

  “I didn’t do it for you or for your thanks,” North said. He sent one more look at Faith. Her lips parted and she inhaled. He watched the rise of her chest. She seemed to be holding her breath as he looked down at her. “You take care, Faith. I’m next door if you need anything.”

  That said, he turned and left her house.

  She had already showered for the evening, but that seemed a long time ago. Before Grimes showed up in her driveway. Before he tried to kill her. Before North saved her life. How was she supposed to forget him now when he had gone ahead and done that?

  That was damn confusing.

  After stepping out of the shower for a second time tonight, she slipped inside her robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door. Pulling the collar close, she inhaled the laundry-fresh scent, taking comfort in it. She was still here. Still alive.

  She picked up her hairbrush and moved into her bedroom. Sitting at the end of her bed, she started brushing out her hair in slow strokes. She’d left her bathroom light on, so a soft glow carried into her bedroom. Even in the dim glow she could see the skin of her throat already bruising.

  She pulled her brush through her hair and stopped. Staring at her neck, she touched it lightly with a hand that still trembled with the aftereffects of her attack. She supposed it was an adrenaline crash. Or shock maybe.

  She would have to wear a turtleneck or a scarf. In summer. That wouldn’t make her look weird or anything. She shivered where she sat on the edge of her bed, and that didn’t compute. Her thermostat was set to seventy-six. Maybe she wasn’t ready to be alone, after all. Maybe she should have let her brother stay. She winced. Except she didn’t want her brother to spend the night. She didn’t want to endure his hovering . . . his questions. Well-meaning as he was, he could be overbearing.

  She stood abruptly, then moved to her phone on her nightstand. She snatched it up and opened her messages. She scrolled to the person she was looking for and started typing. She wasn’t sure what she wanted from him. It was impossible to articulate.

  But she seemed to know the one word to type.

  * * *

  Please.

  He stared down at the single word on his phone. Worry punched him in the chest. It was a single, ambiguous word, but it had him flinging off the covers on his bed and vaulting out of his room. It might as well have been Help!

  He jumped down his stairs and was out his front door, slamming it after him. He didn’t worry about locking it. Faith could be in trouble.

  He pounded on her door. “Faith! Faith!”

  She opened quickly enough, but it felt like forever. Forever standing there and worrying that she wasn’t okay on the other side of that door. Worrying that leaving her alone after her attack had been a mistake. He should have stayed longer and made sure she was okay.

  It was a terrible feeling—one he had vowed never to feel again. He’d cared and worried for Katie and look where that had gotten him. Look where it had gotten her.

  “North.” She breathed his name, her eyes wide and haunted in her face. She had showered. Her hair was wet and she was wearing her robe again. That damn robe.

  “Are you all right?” He looked her up and down as though checking for injuries. Bare skin peeked out at him between the open lapels of her robe, the V of skin distracting him.

  He swallowed, gave a single, hard shake, commanding himself not to think about what was under that robe—or rather what was not under it. “Do you need something?”

  “I—I can’t—” She stopped and looked down for a moment, inhaling a shuddery breath. Composed again, she lifted her gaze back up. “I don’t want to be alone.”

  He nodded with a swift inhalation. “Sure. I get that. Do you want me to call—”

  “Can you stay with me the night?”

  “Me?” She wanted him to sleep over?

  “I just can’t be alone.” She quickly went on to say, “I’m not asking for you to sleep with me . . . just sleep with me.”

  “Of course.” The last thing she was looking for was a roll in the sack. She’d just been through a traumatic event. She wasn’t here asking for him to rock her world.

  “Would you mind?” She looked up at him, her wide eyes so guileless and unaware of what she was asking. Would you mind? Would he mind spending the night with her? Sleep next to her and not touch her?

  He nodded and entered her house, stepping past her. She closed and locked the door behind her.

  She smiled tentatively and stood before him for a moment, her hands worrying the lapels of her robe. She looked so small and vulnerable, two words he would have never used to describe her before. He didn’t like it. He wanted the fiery Faith back, but he knew that was about him and this wasn’t about what he wanted or needed right now. She’d been through hell tonight and he would be there for her because sh
e asked for it.

  “You sure you don’t want to call your father or brother?”

  She let go of her robe and hugged herself, shaking her head firmly. “Oh, hell no.” She released a choked laugh. “They’d come over with a U-Haul. You know this is my first home. They were never keen on me living alone, and tonight doesn’t do much to help my case.”

  “I understand.” And he did. He would have been the same way with Katie.

  Faith inclined her head toward the stairs, and then led the way. He followed, realizing belatedly as he ascended that he was only wearing his briefs. He hadn’t taken the time to throw on jeans. At least it was something though. Half the time he slept naked.

  She moved ahead of him to turn off her bathroom light, plunging the room into darkness. It took his eyes a moment to acclimate to the dark and make out the outline of her in the gloom. She dropped her robe, so he guessed she wasn’t totally naked underneath it. She pulled back the covers on the right side of the bed, nearest to the bathroom.

  He rounded the bed, tugging down the covers on that side.

  Springs squeaked softly and sheets whispered as she slid into bed. He hesitated and took a bracing breath. He knew this was just for comfort, so she wouldn’t be alone, but it still felt awkward. He couldn’t recall ever sleeping with a woman and not having sex with her.

  “North?”

  The soft utterance scratched the space between them. She might as well have said please again. That’s what his name sounded like in her voice. A plea.

  “Yeah?” He slid into bed beside her, not touching, keeping as much space between them as possible. He was determined to hold himself back and not take advantage of her. Not like this. Not when she was vulnerable and shaken. He held himself still. Rigid. Probably too rigid. It was going to be a long night.

  “Thank you,” she whispered into the quiet of her room.

  “No problem.” He slept with plenty of women. So what if this time he would actually sleep with one? It was late. He was tired. He could do this.

  There was a rustle of movement and he felt fingers brush his arm. He jerked slightly.