Safe From the Fire Read online

  SAFE FROM THE FIRE

  By Lily Rede

  SAFE FROM THE FIRE

  Copyright 2013 by Lily Rede

  All Rights Reserved

  First Kindle Edition, November 2012

  WARNING: This work contains explicit depictions of couples engaged in consensual sex and sexual situations. If you’re under 18, read something else!

  ADDITIONAL WORKS AVAILABLE AS SINGLE TITLES

  Hot for Joe

  Build Me Up

  My Fair Hex

  Passion & Pumpkins

  Pour On the Heat

  ANTHOLOGIES

  Hot & Sweet – Beginnings

  The Kringle Girls

  Email Lily at [email protected]

  Twitter: @RedeLily

  Blog: lilyrede.wordpress.com

  SAFE FROM THE FIRE

  Contents

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  EPILOGUE

  PROLOGUE

  It was a mistake. An unbelievably stupid mistake, and now he had to face the consequences.

  This isn’t my fault, he thought, but guilt got the better of him and he resigned himself to the fact that the shit had landed in his lap and he was just going to have to deal with it, whether he liked it or not. Above all, he had to avoid suspicion, and destroy the evidence before it came back to bite him in the ass.

  He knew what that meant, what he had to do.

  Standing in the dark electrical room of the small office building, he carefully poured lighter fluid over a rag and stuffed it into the casing of the computer tower closest to the air vents. He’d already disabled the sprinklers, but left the alarm system intact.

  No sense in burning down the whole fucking block.

  By the time the firefighters arrived, he’d be long gone and the building would be beyond saving. He’d planned it oh-so-precisely.

  I’m not a bad man, he assured himself. No one would get hurt.

  The match flared in the dark and he shivered with anticipation at the enormity of what he was about to set in motion.

  It’s the only way, he thought, and touched the match to the soaked rag.

  His eyes gleamed as he watched the fire jump, climbing the wall and reaching for the vents in an eerily beautiful and deadly sheet of flame.

  And then he was gone.

  CHAPTER ONE

  GRACE MALLOW KNEW SHE was being stalked. She’d felt eyes on her from the moment she’d locked up her little blue house that morning and made the fifteen-minute walk to work. She’d felt them on her as she and Fiona Morton opened the library for the day, greeted the regulars, and dealt with the morning’s returns. She’d felt them as she read to the preschoolers during story hour and started putting up the library’s Halloween decorations.

  It wasn’t unusual for Grace to feel like she was being watched. She knew her look was eye-catching, and was used to the stares of disapproval whenever she wore her violet-streaked reddish hair down, and whispers as she swished past the good people of Bright’s Ferry in Gothy boots and black lace. She wasn’t a Goth in the true sense, and would never insult the friends that committed to the lifestyle by pretending to be, but Grace liked her life a little dark and spooky, and wasn’t about to apologize for it.

  And a little kinky, she admitted to herself, and I’m not going to apologize for that, either.

  She’d lived in Bright’s Ferry all her life, and when she’d suddenly started wearing a lot of black and listening to darker music in high school, her parents and teachers had panicked.

  You’re such a bright young lady, they all said, followed by dire warnings about ruining her life by hanging out with the wrong crowd, getting caught up in dangerous things, and so on.

  Grace ignored them all and did her own thing.

  That didn’t sit well. Bright’s Ferry was full of thoughtful, good-hearted people, but they also had a tendency to be judgmental, straight-laced, and opinionated about everything, whether it was any of their concern or not. Even before the Mallows gave Bright’s Ferry a serious reason to disapprove, Grace had known she didn’t stand a chance.

  It wasn’t exactly fair. The truth was, aside from some very naughty private tendencies that Grace didn’t feel were anybody’s business but her own, she was basically a goody two-shoes. No drugs, no cigarettes, and only the occasional drink with the girls. She was a librarian, for Pete’s sake. Sure, she had a few sexual kinks, but finding someone to share them with who wouldn’t be shocked or, worse, take them too far, was proving to be difficult. She wasn’t looking for some sticky emotional connection, just mutual satisfaction. Anything deeper involved dates and meeting families and public acceptance, and the last thing Grace wanted was to wrap her self-worth up in what someone else thought of her.

  Still, even finding a decent lover was proving to be impossible. Too often over the last few months, Grace found herself sitting in a dark club across from a too-pale, clueless wannabe Dom with greased hair and tight leather pants, explaining to him that no, she wouldn’t be wearing a collar to work or doing his laundry naked. Some women would probably swoon over the offer, but it just wasn’t Grace’s cup of tea. She needed something specific and just hadn’t seen anything she liked yet.

  That’s not true.

  The image of hot blue eyes and impossibly broad, muscled shoulders drifted into her brain, and Grace suppressed the tingle that snaked down her spine and resolutely pushed the seductive picture away to focus on hanging the sparkly spider webs over the front entrance.

  No thinking about Matt Harris, she reminded herself sternly, You plus a sweet, wholesome firefighter equals disaster. Think about Halloween. You love Halloween.

  Grace did love Halloween, from the pumpkins to the candy to the spooky, witchy feeling that came with the whole month of October. It was the one time of the year that she didn’t feel like a total outsider in her own town. At Halloween, she fit in. Not that she cared about fitting in. Really.

  Just me and all the other freaks.

  Grace sighed and stepped off the foot ladder. Feeling uneasy, she scanned the little library, looking over her morning’s work with a critical eye. Cobwebs took up the corners and festooned the tail of the “Are You A Bookworm?” mural that dominated the Young Readers section. There were gourds and pumpkin lights in every window, and a bowl of candy – but no gum, of course – on the counter of the main desk. Grace felt a little trill of satisfaction wind its way through her body – regardless of what the town thought of her, the library was her kingdom, and she was proud of it.

  At the main desk, Fiona patiently tracked down old Mr. Muir’s latest long list of exotic bird books while a handful of seniors browsed the stacks and the young man with messy brown hair and a worn backpack stared at Grace from the Self-Help section, looking anxious. Grace frowned.

  “Adam?”

  For a moment he looked like he was going to bolt, and then the young man raised a hand in tentative greeting, with that little crooked smile she remembered.

  “Adam!”

  Grace’s screech was loud enough to have the entire library looking over in disapproval, but she didn’t care, because the next moment she had her arms locked around her younger brother in a delighted hug. After a surprised second, Adam hugged
her back with a little laugh.

  “Hey, sis.”

  Grace held on, burying her face in his shoulder to contain the swell of emotion. He seemed to understand, because he patted her back and let her get a grip on herself. Finally, Grace pulled back to scrutinize the young man, adjusting her crooked glasses.

  Adam was still slim, but taller than he had been. He was more a man than a boy now, with new weariness in the soft brown eyes that matched her own. He hadn’t had that when he entered juvie almost three years before. Back then, Adam’s eyes had been filled with anger and reckless rebellion, and his increasingly dangerous stunts had driven their parents to early retirement in Florida, unable to handle the town’s lingering resentment over his behavior. Grace was made of heartier stuff, and refused to be driven from her home by a few mean-spirited gossips.

  “What are you doing here?”

  The words tumbled out more astonished than she had planned, and his pleased expression at her enthusiastic welcome dimmed.

  “I didn’t mean it like that. Of course, I’m thrilled you’re here. It’s just…I’m surprised, that’s all.”

  “Mom suggested it.”

  “You talked to Mom?”

  It was impossible to keep the shock out of her voice, but Adam only smiled.

  “Yeah.”

  Grace was bursting with questions, but Fiona chose that moment to sidle up to them.

  “Who’s your friend, Grace?”

  “Fiona, this is my brother, Adam.”

  “Hi,”

  The pretty young African-American woman held out a hand, gifting Adam with a dazzling smile that brought out the dimple in her cheek. He looked a little stunned.

  “You probably don’t remember me,” Fiona said, “We were a couple of grades apart.”

  “I remember. Nice to see you again.”

  Grace didn’t like the way Fiona was sizing her brother up, evaluating him as a potentially tasty snack.

  “Hungry?” she asked her brother, and his eager nod made her wonder when he had last eaten, “I’m going to take Adam over to Mary’s. Can you handle everything for a few hours?”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t burn the place down,” Fiona froze as the words slipped out of her mouth, “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”

  Grace winced, but Adam only smiled ruefully.

  “It’s okay,” he reassured Fiona, “Really, don’t sweat it.”

  Fiona turned, mouthing a horrified OMG at Grace behind Adam’s back, and then swiveled back, smiling.

  “Let me know if you need a new library card or anything. Grace, a word.”

  Grace let herself be tugged a few feet away toward the main desk.

  “Your brother grew up hot!” Fiona whispered as soon as they were out of earshot.

  “He’s too young for you,” Grace immediately retorted.

  “He is not. And that’s how I like ‘em,” purred the twenty-three-year old, with a wink over her shoulder for Adam, “I want to hear everything when you get back.”

  Rolling her eyes, Grace knew that within thirty seconds, Fiona would be on the phone to Evie Asher with the news of Adam’s return. The serious deputy was relatively new to town, and Grace and Fiona had taken an instant shine to the young woman, pulling her into their regular girls’ night. It didn’t hurt that Evie had saved Colin Daniels’ life from a crazed stalker, and was now rocking his world on all fronts. The attractive mayor was one of Grace’s oldest friends and the couple was so happy, it was getting annoying.

  Grace returned to her brother, snapping her fingers to pull Adam’s attention from the sway of Fiona’s hips as she sashayed away.

  “I thought you were hungry,”

  “I am,” Adam murmured absently.

  “Dreyer Morton’s granddaughter is most definitely not on the menu.”

  MATT HARRIS KNEW THE second Grace walked in the diner without even looking up from his mountain of eggs. There was always a brief pause in the conversation, a hitch, as the locals took in her latest outfit and her perpetually purple hair.

  Judgmental busybodies.

  He always wondered why Grace put up with it. If it were him, he’d tell them all to stick it where the sun don’t shine.

  Matt loved Bright’s Ferry, had loved it since he had moved his mother to Sunrise Glen across the bay after college in hopes that they could give her the care and round-the-clock attention he couldn’t. That was a dark time for him – his father’s recent death had left him feeling conflicted and resentful and relieved, and his ruined knee had destroyed his football career and left his future uncertain and wide open. Given how tight-knit the community was, Matt assumed that it would take forever to make friends and find acceptance, but all it took was some quick thinking when a stray sparkler set off the gazebo during the Harvest Festival. The town proclaimed him a hero. That was eight years ago, and he’d joined the fire department and been their hero ever since.

  The same couldn’t be said for Grace. She was one of their own, but it seemed as though most of the town had classified her as a “disappointment,” and wasted no opportunity to remind her of that.

  Matt knew she was aware of him. Her eyes darted briefly in his direction before looking away, urging the scrawny young man with faded clothes and messy hair toward her customary corner booth. Matt barely noticed the young man at first, because his eyes were busy eating up Grace.

  She was dressed down today, in what she would consider “work” clothes – a soft black sweater dress over striped witch tights, dark eyeliner and violet shadow highlighting her brown eyes that reminded him of warm chocolate. Her hair was pulled back in a loose cluster of braids, with purple tendrils caressing the side of her face and the back of her neck. The dress was demure, but hugged the gentle curves of her sweet breasts and waist, and the more generous swell of the most perfect ass Matt had ever seen. Every last inch of her tied him into aroused knots, but it was that ass that threatened to drop him to his knees.

  Matt’s body went hot as he caught a glimpse of a hot pink lace bra strap peeking out from the collar of her dress, and he couldn’t help going hard as he wondered if she was wearing panties and garters to match.

  If she was wearing anything at all.

  He was exhausted from last night’s shift – an office building near the harbor had gone up in smoke. It was miraculous that they managed to arrive in time to keep the fire from spreading. Still, one look at Grace and all of Matt’s fatigue disappeared. He hoped he wasn’t drooling.

  To distract himself, he shoved a forkful of eggs in his mouth and chased it with a swig of coffee, relieved and mildly disappointed when she finally sat down, hiding her figure from view. The young man said something and Grace laughed, and his wry grin was so much like hers that Matt nearly choked.

  “No fucking way,” he muttered, wiping his mouth with a handy napkin.

  It looked like the firebug had finally come home.

  GRACE FELT A PANG as she watched Adam’s eyes widen at the sight of the tower of pancakes Mary set in front of him, before he dug in like he hadn’t eaten in a month. She was relieved that Mary had greeted her brother with a pinch on the cheek and a motherly kiss – one of the few people in town who would welcome his return. Grace was dying for answers, but contained herself while Adam inhaled the pancakes like they were going out of style, taking the time to linger on some of the changes she hadn’t noticed before.

  He was thin, thinner than she remembered, as though he hadn’t been getting regular meals, and there were circles under his eyes and more shocking, faint scars on his wrists.

  A botched suicide attempt?

  Grace swallowed guilt and sadness. The first year after her brother was sent off to juvenile detention for setting fire to three local homes, she’d done her best to keep in touch, but Grace and her parents had struggled to get their lives back on track, and she was ashamed to admit that about the time her folks had decided to call it quits and leave Bright’s Ferry, Grace had stopped calling and writing. At eighteen, A
dam had been let out, and simply disappeared. Grace had her hands full with her new job as Head Librarian, and before she knew it, three years had passed. Seeing him sitting in front of her, eating pancakes, was surreal – it filled her with apprehension along with a curious sense of relief.

  He’s not the same boy you knew, she reminded herself, and sat back, nursing her coffee, waiting for him to speak when he was ready.

  Finally, Adam pushed his empty plate back, grinning when Grace signaled Mary for another round. He leaned forward, clasping his hands together.

  “So I got out of juvie with nothing but this backpack and a hundred bucks in my pocket,” he began, jumping in as though he was continuing a conversation in progress, “and the last thing I wanted to do was come back here.”

  Grace started to respond, but stopped herself.

  “I hung around Boston for a few months, did a few odd jobs, panhandled a bit, lifted a few wallets.”

  Adam flushed, looking down at the table, hands clenched tight.

  “It was wrong, I know, but I was pissed, and I just didn’t know what to do with all that anger. Things got a little hot in Boston, and I got into some trouble with this gang…figured it would be smart to leave town. I hitchhiked around the country for a while, but I had no money, and I was still so fucking angry, Gracie. I really just wanted to take a gas can and burn down everything in sight. Finally I wound up under a bridge in Milwaukee, starving, freezing, and it just seemed like the end.”

  He turned his wrists over, and Grace couldn’t help the tears as she traced the scars with gentle fingers.

  “God, don’t cry, Gracie. I’m okay, I promise.”

  “You sure?”

  Adam nodded.

  “I woke up in the hospital, and this guy, Jack Cooper, was sitting by my bed. He ran the local soup kitchen. He was out distributing blankets and found me in the snow, bleeding to death, and called for help. He didn’t yell, didn’t argue, just asked me if I wanted another chance.”