Rescue After Dark Read online

  Nikki’s thoughts were so mired in the past that she’d almost forgotten about the incident that had led to Jordan’s more recent attack. She was quickly reminded of it when Riley took the turn into the driveway at Eastward Look where fire trucks were still at the scene, serving as a grim reminder of what’d taken place earlier and how close she’d come to losing her sister.

  “Wait for me,” Riley said when he parked out of the way of the fire department vehicles. He came around to help Nikki from the car, which, under normal circumstances, wouldn’t have been unnecessary. But since she could barely bring herself to move, she accepted his assistance and welcomed the warm hand he wrapped around hers. She felt cold all over as they went to talk to one of the firefighters.

  “Hey, folks,” the man said. “Is this your house?”

  “Yes,” Riley said. “Were you able to determine the source of the fire?”

  “It started on the roof and spread to the chimney, but we can’t seem to figure out what sparked it. We’re wrapping up here for tonight. We’ll be back in the morning for a closer look in the daylight.”

  “Is it okay for us to stay here tonight?”

  “Absolutely. The damage was contained to the roof, chimney and living room, where you’ve got some water and smoke damage. Luckily, the chief spotted the flames and smoke before the fire moved past the chimney area. Otherwise, you might be looking at a total loss. Doesn’t take much for these old houses to burn to the ground.”

  Nikki began to actively tremble as images of the house fully engulfed in flames with her sister inside took up residence in her imagination.

  Riley dropped her hand and wrapped his arm around her.

  Having him with her made everything far more bearable than it would have been before she’d had his unconditional support.

  They waited until the firefighters packed up and left before venturing inside.

  “Not sure I can bear to look,” Nikki said as Riley led the way to the front door. They’d spent months working on every square inch of the downstairs and had brought it back to gleaming life.

  “Whatever it is, we’ll fix it and make it good as new. We just have to keep reminding ourselves that it could’ve been so much worse.”

  “I know. When I think about Jordan stuck in there, knocked out by a sleeping pill.” She clutched her stomach as a wave of nausea overcame her.

  At the top step, Riley stopped her from going in. “It’s going to take a while to get those images out of your mind, but just keep thinking about how she looked just now at the clinic. She’s totally fine.”

  Nikki nodded. “Thanks for being my rock. Always, but especially the last few hours.”

  He laid a gentle kiss on her lips. “Being your rock is my favorite thing ever.”

  When Riley opened the door and the pungent stench of smoke greeted them, Nikki’s heart sank. He flipped on lights and walked ahead of her into the living room. The rug and sofa were soaked and sooty, the hearth singed and the ceiling black. “Could be way worse,” Riley said. “This will be nothing to fix. Probably have to get new furniture, but whatever. That’s no biggie.”

  Seeing the discarded blanket that had covered her sister on the sofa and Jordan’s phone on the coffee table brought home just how close Jordan had been to the fire.

  Riley noticed she was fixated on the sofa and came to gently redirect her toward the stairs to their room. “You feel like a bath?” He knew how much she loved the claw-foot tub he’d restored the previous winter.

  “I don’t think so. Not tonight. But thanks.” Nikki changed into pajama pants and a long-sleeved T-shirt because she still couldn’t seem to get warm.

  “Is there anything I can do for you, love?”

  “Warm me up in bed?”

  Riley sent her the special smile he saved only for her. “Always happy to help with that.” He stripped down to boxers, and after they’d both taken a turn in the bathroom, he crawled into bed next to her and wrapped his big body around hers, making her feel safe, loved and warm. “Better?”

  “So much better.”

  “I’m sorry this happened to Jordan and to you.”

  “I feel so bad for her. She’s had more than enough lately.”

  “So have you. It’s okay to feel a little badly for yourself, too.”

  “It’s always been this way.”

  “What way?” he asked, running his hand over her hair and back.

  “Everything is harder for her for some reason. We’re identical twins, so we’re supposed to be similar, but it just seems that everything is hard for her in ways it wasn’t for me. She had awful asthma when we were kids. She was in and out of the hospital for years. She had trouble keeping friends, and I could never understand why. She’s the nicest girl, but for whatever reason, people would turn on her. And then her husband did the same thing. I just keep wondering when she’s going to get her break. When will it be her turn to be happy?”

  “It’ll happen, honey. When the time is right. Jordan is a great girl. She’s going to meet someone who’ll make what’s-his-name seem like a distant bad memory.”

  “Any time now. I want her to be happy. I’m not saying she needs to fall in love to be happy, but she’s always wanted to find someone special. I think it goes back to the way we were raised and how betrayed we both felt by our dad. We just wanted to find stability anywhere we could. She’s done a lot of dumb things trying to achieve that goal, such as marry him.”

  “Did you always hate him?”

  “Always. My dislike for him was immediate and visceral. And vice versa.”

  “He only disliked you because his oversized ego couldn’t handle the fact that you had him nailed for what he really was from the get-go.”

  Nikki raised her head off his chest to look him in the eye. “How do you know that?”

  “I know his type. He’s a malignant narcissist. It’s all about him, and everyone around him needs to get on board. You refused to do that, so you were of no use to him, especially since you had significant influence over Jordan.”

  “That about sums up the dynamic. Have you known people like him?”

  “There was this one guy I knew in college who was like that. His way or the highway, and anyone who questioned him was automatically excommunicated from his life.”

  “Did you get excommunicated?”

  “Yep. I intervened when he was hassling a girl at a party, and he didn’t like that. Tough shit. I wasn’t going to walk away and pretend I hadn’t seen what he was doing. I knew her from a math class I took freshman year, but I would’ve done the same thing even if I hadn’t known her.”

  “My hero.”

  “Oh, please. I was just doing what any decent person would do when they see someone in a bad situation.”

  “Not everyone would do that, Ri. In fact, I bet most guys would’ve kept on going.”

  “Not if they were raised by Kevin, Frank and Big Mac McCarthy, they wouldn’t have.”

  “They raised good men.”

  “I’m glad you think so.”

  “It’s not just me who thinks so. Everyone does.”

  “I only care what you think.”

  Nikki turned Riley’s face toward her so she could kiss him. “I think you’re the best man I’ve ever known. I just wish my sister could find someone like you.”

  * * *

  Mason slept fitfully, the pain from his elbow waking him several times during the night, forcing him to take painkillers at two a.m. He decided to forgo his usual morning workout in deference to the injury, but that would make him doubly cranky. He relied on exercise to keep him grounded and had made it a habit for years to start each day with a vigorous workout. Once upon a time, he’d been a competitive weightlifter, and since he quit drinking, exercise had helped him stay sober. He’d learned not to ask questions about the things that helped. Whatever it took to keep from going back to who he’d been before he got sober.

  Mason went through the motions of showering and shaving wit
h an electric razor, since his left arm was in a sling and he didn’t trust himself to use an actual razor with his right hand. Of course he’d injured the elbow on his dominant side. He hoped it healed quickly, because doing things one-handed seriously sucked. When he was ready, he left the small house he rented on the island’s east side and arrived at the meeting he attended seven days a week at the nondenominational church in town.

  Mallory and her fiancé, Dr. Quinn James, were already there. Mason fixed himself a coffee and went to sit with them. They’d become good friends over the last year, and he looked forward to seeing them every morning.

  “How’s the arm?” Mallory asked.

  “Hurts like hell.”

  “It will for a few weeks,” Quinn said.

  “I was afraid you’d say that.”

  “Are you taking time out of work?” Mallory asked.

  “Hell no. That’s not an option this time of year. And besides, my arm hurts. Otherwise, I’m fine.”

  Mallory smiled at his testy response. “You can’t go out on calls with your arm in a sling.”

  “I can still supervise and deal with the never-ending paperwork and all the other crap that goes on every day.”

  “True, and Lord knows the world might end if you’re not there to supervise,” she said, laughing.

  He gave her a pointed look. “You know full well what I deal with.” The two of them had had many conversations about working with younger officers and the generational differences in their work ethics.

  “I do, and I understand. But if you were to take a few days off, I think they’d survive.”

  “I don’t want to risk it and then have to spend the rest of the summer cleaning up whatever mess they make of things.”

  Before Mallory could reply, Nina, the facilitator, came rushing in, a few minutes late as always this time of year. She ran the Summer House Hotel, so this was her busy season, too. She began the meeting with the Serenity Prayer before asking everyone to introduce themselves. As usual in-season, they had a few visitors among them today. They didn’t bother with introductions during the off-season when it was just the regulars.

  When Nina asked if anyone wanted to share, Tori, one of the visitors, raised her hand.

  Upon closer inspection, Mason noticed Tori had been crying. He put her in her midthirties maybe. She had dark hair and eyes.

  “I’m here with my family on vacation,” Tori said haltingly. “I’d been sober about four months, and last night.” She shook her head and wiped away tears. “I threw away all that hard work for six margaritas that led to yet another fight with my husband. He says he’s had enough this time. This is really it. He’s taking my kids and leaving me.”

  Mason felt for her. Giving up alcohol was the most difficult thing he’d ever done, with more stops and starts than he could count before he finally found a path to lasting sobriety. Not that he could say exactly what had done the trick, but something had, and he kept up a rigid routine that revolved around maintenance. He rarely spoke up in the meetings, preferring to listen and absorb the wisdom of others, but he felt like he had something to add to Tori’s situation that might help.

  “I think it’s really important to forgive yourself for the slipup,” Mason said. “You’re here, which means you own what happened, and you’re taking the steps necessary to get back on track. If you didn’t care about staying sober, you wouldn’t be here.”

  Tori broke down into sobs that had Mallory shifting over one seat to put her arm around the woman.

  “I can’t lose my kids.”

  Over the next hour, the group pulled together to support Tori. Nina offered to go with her to speak to her husband, to help arrange for rehab or anything else the woman might need.

  As the meeting broke up, Mason felt drained and yet also uplifted by the way the group had supported Tori during her crisis. AA had saved his life and that of so many others, and to see its powerful impact at work never failed to overwhelm him.

  “I don’t know about you guys,” Mallory said, “but I need food and coffee after that.”

  “I’m with you, love,” Quinn said.

  “Me, too, if you don’t mind a third wheel,” Mason said.

  “Oh, stop,” Mallory said. “You’re never a third wheel with us.”

  They walked to Rebecca’s diner in downtown, which was busy as always in the summer, and took the last remaining booth.

  Rebecca delivered three mugs to the table that she filled with coffee. “Be right back to take your order.”

  “You gotta love the summer around here,” Quinn said, taking in the chaos in the island’s number-one breakfast spot.

  “Do I?” Mason asked, inflicting his tone with sarcasm.

  “Yes, you do,” Mallory said. “It’s the price you pay for having it easy the rest of the year.”

  “If you say so.” Mason stirred cream into his coffee with his right hand and then gave his phone a quick look to make sure nothing was going on—yet. He had no doubt there’d be plenty going on once the revelers woke up, shook off the night before and got started on another big day of partying.

  So went the cycle, seven days a week for three months. Mason took advantage of the quiet mornings to attend a meeting, spend some time with friends and ease into a workday that would get progressively more insane as the day went on.

  “Pretty intense meeting today,” Mallory said, sipping from her mug.

  Quinn nodded and stretched his arm out on the back of the booth. “Been a while since we had someone in full-blown crisis.”

  “Thank goodness for Nina,” Mason said. “She always knows what to do.”

  “You were good in there,” Mallory said to Mason. “Hearing that other people had multiple false starts on the way to sobriety is helpful. It’s good for her to know it rarely sticks the first time.”

  “True. It didn’t for me.” When Mason thought about the last few years before he finally got sober, he was always filled with shame over the way he’d behaved. The three years prior to finally giving up drinking hadn’t been pretty. “I nearly lost my job and my firefighting career before I got a clue.”

  “Took a few times for me, too,” Quinn said.

  He rarely spoke at the meetings, so Mason didn’t know a lot about his story, only that he’d lost a leg in Afghanistan and had spiraled after he left the military. But he and Mallory were happy together. Mason saw that every time he was with them.

  Rebecca came by to take their orders. Mallory asked for an egg-white veggie omelet, Quinn ordered eggs sunny side up, and Mason requested scrambled eggs with ham and a grilled English muffin.

  “Coming right up,” Rebecca said before taking off to tend to other customers.

  “We’re having a dinner party this Saturday and wanted to invite you to come if you’re able to get away from work,” Mallory said.

  “I’d love to. Thanks for the invite. What can I bring?”

  “No need to bring a thing, unless you have a friend you want to invite.”

  Mason immediately thought of Jordan, which was insane, but he had the thought anyway and immediately felt uncomfortable about it.

  “What do you suppose he’s thinking about over there?” Mallory asked Quinn.

  Mason looked up to find them both fixated on him. “What?”

  “You just got all silent and broody,” Mallory said. “Something on your mind? Or maybe someone?”

  Mason shook his head. He absolutely couldn’t talk about this with her—or anyone. They’d think he needed his head examined if he told them he’d had a strange reaction to blowing air into Jordan Stokes’s lungs or how much he’d enjoyed keeping her company in the clinic until her sister arrived.

  He’d mulled over their conversation several times since he left the clinic the night before and found himself smiling every time he recalled her sarcasm, not to mention her reaction to the first bites of pizza she’d allowed herself in far too long. The blissful expression on her striking face as she’d taken the first
bite of pizza was unforgettable.

  “Mase, your face is red.”

  He glanced at Mallory. “No, it isn’t.”

  “Yes, it is! Who is she? We see him every day, and he’s been holding out on us, Quinn!”

  “Leave him alone, babe. You’re embarrassing him.”

  “Oh, please. It’s Mason! He doesn’t get embarrassed.”

  “Yes, he does.” Mason glared at her playfully. “And I’m not holding out on you. It’s nothing.” But he’d like it to be, and how funny was that? What interest would a woman like her have in a small-town firefighter? She was used to the glitz and glam of Hollywood and a fast-paced celebrity lifestyle. His lifestyle would bore her to tears. Hell, it bored him to tears in the off-season.

  “Come on. Spill it. You know you want to.”

  Mason was trying to figure out when Mallory had become like a sister to him, needling him the way only a sibling could. He huffed out a deep breath, full of annoyance. “I had pizza with Jordan Stokes at the clinic last night, and it was fun. There’s your big scoop.”

  Mallory’s eyes went wide with excitement. “Ohhh, I like this. Jordan and Nikki are so gorgeous.”

  “Are they? I hadn’t noticed.”

  “I only know Nikki, because she’s engaged to my cousin Riley,” Mallory continued as if Mason hadn’t said anything. “She’s as nice as she is pretty, and so great at running the Wayfarer. My dad sings her praises on a regular basis.” Mallory had been nearly forty when she found out that Big Mac McCarthy was her father, and the two of them had forged a close relationship since they found each other. “If Jordan is anything like her, and hello, she must be—identical twins, after all—you should ask her out.”

  Mason held up a hand to stop her. “Whoa.” To Quinn, he said, “Can you please do something about her?”

  “Yeah, I’ve tried.” Quinn smiled and shrugged. “She is what she is.”

  “That’s right.” Mallory smiled at her beloved. “And I’m too old to change now. I like her for you.”

  Rebecca brought their food—along with a reprieve for Mason that he knew was temporary. Mallory wasn’t going to let this go.