Wild Fire

“Yes, it is,” she said more steadily than she felt. “Don’t come back here.”

Savage fury twisted his features and he took a step toward her. Oliver pushed between them. Dylan Shepherd appeared, and so did Jay Monroe.

Vince’s gaze locked on each of them and lingered, challenging. Shelby knew he was sizing up his chances in a fight. She didn’t think he could take Shep’s powerful build or Monroe’s wiry strength.

The glare Vince gave her was so full of venom that her skin prickled. She’d never seen him this upset.

He pivoted and stalked out. Her captain turned, eyeing her intently. “You okay?”

“Yes.” Her muscles, gone rigid as Vince talked, finally relaxed. The headache returned. “Thanks for stepping in, y’all. I guess he just didn’t want to take no for an answer.”

“We’ll keep an eye out for him.” Shep’s dark eyes reflected concern.

Captain Oliver’s gaze narrowed as he watched Tyner pull away from the curb in his ambulance. “I don’t like him coming around my firehouse.”

“I’m sorry, Cap. I had no idea he’d come here.” Shelby tried to calm the boiling mix of fear and anger inside her. “I’ve told him more than once that things are over.”

“It’s not your fault, Fox.”

The phone in his office rang and the captain jogged past Shelby to answer it. Shep and Monroe moved up beside her.

“You sure you’re okay?” Jay’s ruddy face was as serious as she’d ever seen it.

“Yeah, thanks. I don’t know why the guy won’t leave me alone.”

“He might be a jerk,” Dylan said, “but he knows a good woman when he sees one.”

She cut him a look. “Don’t start with me, Shepherd.”

He grinned, opening his mouth to say something only to be interrupted by the shriek of the fire alarm. He and Monroe bolted for their gear; Captain Oliver rushed out of his office, stepped into his own bunker pants and steel-soled boots, and climbed into the driver’s seat.

Shelby wished she were going. She stayed out of the way and in two minutes flat, the truck roared out of the garage. She waited until they disappeared and then went into the kitchen, shaken up more than she liked by Vince’s visit. She finished putting away the groceries, giving in to a little self-pity that she couldn’t go on the call with the others.

Glancing at the clock, she saw it was nearly three. Her usual time for a snack. She took a bag of popcorn from the cabinet and stuck it into the microwave.

As it cooked, she fixed a bowl of cat food for the firehouse cat and carried it outside. Just as she started back in, an explosion ripped through the air. Training had her ducking as metal clanged against metal, thudded into the wall. Debris shot through the kitchen’s open doorway and across the bay’s cement floor. Smoke rolled out. She jumped to her feet, awkwardly grabbed the nearest fire extinguisher with her uninjured hand and then raced into the kitchen, killing the small blaze in short order.

She stared in disbelief at the powder-covered mess. The microwave’s door was across the room, its glass shattered. What if she’d been standing in here, watching the corn pop as she usually did? She might’ve been killed.

Fear formed a knot in her belly. Making sure all the embers were dead, she left things as they were and called Clay.

He arrived in less than ten minutes, his jaw stiffening when he saw the microwave. Despite having left for work early this morning when she had, his navy slacks and green-and-blue striped polo shirt looked fresh.

He took her chin in his hand and looked her over from head to toe. “Are you okay?

“I’m not hurt. I was just coming back into the firehouse when it happened.”

“Blue eyes, you’re gonna give me a heart attack.”

“Tell me about it,” she muttered. She wrapped her arms around herself. “This is too strange, Clay.”

He brushed her hair away from her forehead and eyed her healing cut, then propped his hands on his hips. “Show me where you were and what you did.”

Shelby walked him over to the cabinet where she kept her popcorn. “After Vince was here, the guys got a call—”

“Tyner was here?” he asked sharply.

She nodded.

“When? How long? What did he want?”

“It was less than half an hour ago. He was here maybe five minutes. He wanted to talk about getting back together. At first, I told him here wasn’t the place to talk, but he wouldn’t leave so I told him—again—that I wasn’t interested in seeing him anymore.”

“How did he take it?”

“Not any better than last time. He kept after me until Cap and Monroe and Shepherd came out, and told him to back off.”

“Did Tyner threaten you? Try to push you around like he did the night you broke up with him?”

“No, he just grabbed me.”

A savage light flared in Clay’s eyes. “I really want to hurt that guy.”

A police cruiser pulled up. Two uniformed officers stepped out of the black-and-white, met at the end of the sloping firehouse drive by the crime scene technician who was removing his work kit from a white van.

“Are you bruised?” Clay asked.

“No. He scared me more than he hurt me.”

Clay’s eyes turned cold and hard. Shelby knew that look. He waved the crime scene tech into the kitchen then turned back to her. “Where did you first see Tyner?”

“In here. I came in with a bag of groceries and he was waiting.”

“Was he alone?”

“Yes.”

His gaze shifted to the destroyed microwave. “How long after he left did the microwave blow up?”

“Maybe five minutes.”

“Did you know he was coming?”

“No.”

“He was in here alone for a bit before you knew he was here. Maybe no one else knew he was here, either.”

Her eyes widened. “Do you think he did this? But why?” She felt sick. “Just because I broke up with him?”