Rafe Sinclair's Revenge

Her eyes changed, understanding of what he meant invading them as he watched.

“You think…” The sentence trailed. Once more she shook her head, the gesture small, denying. Her mouth worked and then she tried again. “You can’t possibly believe—”

“Come on,” he ordered.

He didn’t touch her, although by now the few words they’d exchanged had reoriented him. He knew where he was. And there was no doubt in his mind who she was.

Still, he didn’t dare put his hands on her. Not yet. No matter how much he wanted to.

“Come where?”

“Away from here.”

“I have to talk to the chief. There are questions that have to be—”

“Screw the questions. They’ll figure it out. They don’t need you to do that.”

“Rafe,” she protested.

She’d been out of this business too long. Her instincts were to respond to something like this in a rational way. Despite the time that had passed, his were not. His were all of the get-the-hell-out-of-Dodge variety.

The authorities could sort through cause-and-effect to their bureaucratic heart’s content. Meanwhile, he’d have her safe somewhere a thousand miles from here. Somewhere this time where that frigging terrorist bastard could never find her.

“Ms. Anderson?”

Elizabeth turned, removing her fingers from his chest. It was as if his connection to the present had been unplugged. He felt the familiar disconnect start and fought it, concentrating fiercely on maintaining contact with her and what was happening.

Her mouth was moving, but for a few seconds he couldn’t make sense of the words. He concentrated on doing that, forcing his mind to remain focused on the here and now.

It was a struggle, given the stimuli provided by the sights and sounds around them. He couldn’t afford to think about those. Not about the heat of the fire or the smells of it or the sounds of the sirens.

He forced himself to think only about Elizabeth’s mouth until eventually the words she was saying to the man he’d identified as Magnolia Grove’s fire chief began to form a pattern. To make sense.

“…a friend of mine from out of town. He was naturally concerned for me.”

Because I’m the only one who knows what the hell is going on here.

“We just need to ask you a few more questions, ma’am. Then Tommy thinks you ought to ride on in to the hospital and get checked out. You could have a concussion.”

“I’m fine.”

“You can’t be too careful with a head injury.”

Head injury. She had a head injury?

Cautiously, Rafe allowed his gaze to leave Elizabeth’s mouth, focusing on her head. Her hair was full of ash, but there were no bruises visible under the strands that fell forward over her forehead.

“You hit your head?” he demanded, his voice more normal.

She turned her attention to him, drawing the chief’s there, too. “The blast knocked me flat on my back. I think I hit it on the pavement. I remember looking up at the smoke. Then things were just falling out of the sky…”

As explanations went, it was fairly disjointed. Reassuringly normal.

She’d been the one at the center of the firestorm this time. She was bound to be affected, emotionally if not physically. And there was always the possibility that there was some injury. A lot of head stuff didn’t show up until it was too late.

“How far’s the hospital?” he asked.

The chief answered, his eyes still evaluating him. “Thirty miles or so. Mostly interstate.”

“Okay,” he said.

“I don’t need to go to the hospital,” Elizabeth protested.

Maybe it would be better just to put her in his car and take her somewhere. Anywhere. Any emergency room would do. After all, he couldn’t see any sign that she was concussed.

That meant zilch with a head injury. He’d seen men walking around one minute and keel over the next from the pressure of internal bleeding. Or go to sleep, believing they were perfectly fine, and never wake up.

It wasn’t a chance he was willing to take. Not with Elizabeth.

“You need a scan,” he said. “That way—”

“I don’t need to go to the hospital,” she said, raking her hair back with characteristic impatience. “Don’t you think I’d know if I were injured?”

“No,” he said. The word was unequivocal, as was the demand in its tone.

Her mouth tightened, but she didn’t argue. She turned back to the chief instead. “What else do you need to know?”

The fireman’s eyes met Rafe’s, holding on them briefly before he answered.

“Nothing we can’t get later,” he said. “The fire marshal will need to examine the scene after we get the blaze controlled and things cool down. That’ll take a couple of days. We can always get back to you if we have other questions then. You go on now and get that scan. Smartest thing you can do.”

“Come on,” Rafe said again.

It would have been easier to take her elbow and physically insist she get into the waiting ambulance, and it should have been okay by now to do that. He didn’t risk it. Not with the sounds and the smells associated with the fire still going on in the background.

He had successfully locked them out of his consciousness, but there was no guarantee that something wouldn’t happen that he wasn’t prepared for. Something that might trigger another flashback. That also was not a risk he was willing to take.

He debated asking the driver to wait until he could get his car so he could follow the ambulance. That way they could leave from the hospital without coming back here.

There were a couple of problems with that. He wasn’t willing to leave Elizabeth alone even for the time it would take for him to run back to the motel. And he doubted she’d be willing to leave town with only the clothes on her back. Especially if they were telling her that the explosion had been the result of a gas leak. Especially if she believed them.

He didn’t, not for one minute, but there wasn’t much point in arguing the theory with the chief. That was something the fire marshal could sort out when he arrived.

By the time he had, he and Elizabeth would be long gone.

Chapter Four

“I told you,” she said.