Ignite (Missoula Smokejumpers Book 1) Read online

  “Right. You forget everything. The one where the folks offered to pay the band twenty k?”

  She heard the excitement in his voice. They hadn’t been paid this much in almost three years. “Yeah?”

  “Well, they want us. We’re the headline. Can you believe it?”

  While she hadn’t been to a church since she was a little girl, she crossed herself in honor of her grandmother. Hail Mary.

  “Get going. We have some work to do.”

  A smile broke out across her face as she did the math. Twenty thousand dollars split five ways along with her savings was exactly what she needed. “Sounds fantastic!”

  “Good girl. I’ll come get you in about two hours and we can take the scenic route. Hell, maybe we’ll take in a few sights on the way home. You’ll be ready?”

  Jessica beamed. “With bells on, baby.”

  “There’s the woman I know and adore. See you soon.”

  She hung up the phone and turned in a full circle, sloshing coffee on the floor. Her luck was changing.

  As she scampered toward the bedroom, ready for a hot shower and an amazing day, his words, ugly reminders of the past, settled into the back of her mind.

  “You’re going to Hell, little girl and I’m going to send you on your way. First, let’s have a little fun. Come here.”

  Chapter 2

  “Hansen. Puevos. Get in here.”

  Stoker cringed hearing the infuriated tone of his Captain’s voice. He raised his eyebrow as Garcia grinned. The hero status the Press had anointed the two in the recent newscast was nothing more than a blatant reminder that he hated playing by the rules.

  “Whoa. Looks like the dynamic duo are in trouble.”

  Garcia shoved his coat into the locker before giving the group of firemen the finger. “You’re just jealous, the lot of you.”

  One of the men tossed a towel in their direction and whistled.

  “Such a fun bunch to work with.” Stoker noticed Garcia wincing as he moved toward the Captain’s office. “You, all right?”

  “You know me, kicking ass and taking names later,” Garcia quipped.

  Stoker grabbed his arm and lowered his voice. “I’m serious. That was a deep gouge.”

  “Just a surface scratch for us Zulies.”

  “Another comedian in our midst.” Stoker knew his buddy was in pain but refused to acknowledge it. If injured, Garcia would be pushed off the exclusive detail he’d vied for his entire career. He’d recently made the more elite group of firefighters in the United States. Smoke jumping was all Garcia had ever wanted. It was also in Stoker’s blood, but he had no intention of jumping out a perfectly good plane ever again.

  “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

  Nodding, he buttoned his uniform before trailing behind Garcia and into Captain Banyon’s office.

  “Close the door.” Captain Banyon’s booming voice echoed in his office.

  Stoker eased the door shut. “What’s up, Cap’n?”

  “Don’t suck up to me, boy. You know exactly what’s going on.” The Captain was on his feet, sorting through files on his desk.

  Garcia gave him a look. They stood at attention. “Sir?” Stoker finally asked.

  Captain Banyon continued flipping through files for a full two minutes.

  Stoker shifted back and forth from foot to foot, trying his best to remain cool. Meanwhile, Garcia cleared his throat several times until the Captain shot him a disgruntled look.

  “I realize you boys think you’re above obeying the rules.” The Captain looked from one to the other.

  “I can explain,” Stoker started.

  The Captain held up his hand. “Don’t bother trying. I’ve heard everything from you two, hot dogs. I don’t need the shit coming down from the brass any longer.”

  “We were just saving lives,” Garcia added.

  “Lives?” The Captain grimaced and shook his head. “I understand the Press Corp thinks you boys are the next best thing to sliced bread since you saved those puppies. What I can tell you is that you went against direct orders jumping into the middle of that blaze. You ignored policy by going into a building that wasn’t secure. Do you understand anything I’m saying here?”

  “There were lives inside,” Stoker countered. “And our job is to save them.”

  “Your job, Mr. Hansen,” the Captain said between clenched teeth as he glared at Stoker, “is to follow orders. My orders. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, sir, but we got them out.” Stoker offered. A bead of sweat trickled down the back of his neck.

  Exhaling, the Captain placed both hands on his hips before walking out from behind his desk. He closed the distance until he stood a few inches in front of both men. Then he looked down with a deliberate motion until his eyes rested on Garcia’s leg. “Do you realize what would have happened if you’d both been trapped inside?”

  “We were fine,” Garcia insisted.

  “Fine, huh? Stand on one leg.” The Captain pointed to Garcia.

  Stoker resisted looking over at Garcia.

  “See?” Garcia asked as he followed the request.

  “Stand on the leg that was injured, son. Don’t play me for a fool,” Captain Banyon said, the tone full of exasperation.

  Garcia shrugged and repeated the move on the other leg. “See.” Within two seconds he faltered, forcing Stoker to catch him. “I’m fine.”

  “Right.” The Captain rubbed his eyes and took two steps back. “You’re both damn good firefighters, but I have no choice but to place you on suspension.”

  “For saving the lives of two dogs?” Stoker retorted.

  “And you know better!” The Captain held out his index finger. “This isn’t your first rodeo into my office. You nearly had a bystander killed in your last attempt to buck the system.”

  “With all due respect, Captain, the man was a criminal running away from the scene of a bank robbery.” Garcia shrunk back as the Captain’s finger was suddenly an inch away from his face. Tension filled the air.

  Stoker sighed. “For how long?”

  Captain Banyon gave him a sideways look. “Right now, three weeks. That oughta give this one, time to heal and you, some time to think. Tend to your ranch, Hansen.”

  “Three weeks?” Garcia whined.

  “I’ll make it four if you say another word.” The Captain narrowed his eyes. “I know you don’t want me to call Captain Phillips, giving him a play by play of your injury, now do you? Yeah, you bet I heard the news. You’re going to have to make a choice soon, the Jackals or Fire Station number 12, but at least you have time to determine your decision.”

  Garcia opened his mouth as if to retort then lowered his eyes out of respect. “Yes, sir. I understand what you’re saying.”

  “Are you both certain you do?” Captain Banyon snarked.

  “Yes, sir.” Both men said at the same time.

  Stoker was pissed and while he knew any further discussion or even a word against the decision could result in termination, he fumed. What the hell was he supposed to do for three weeks? He thought about the offer from the Jackals, the local smoke jumping team. He’d been made several offers after returning from the war. No, he wasn’t ready now and probably never would be. His days spent working burnouts and fire devils were over.

  “Now both of you get out of here before I add something to your punishment.” The Captain turned away from the men, mumbling as he walked back to his desk.

  Garcia stuck out his jaw and remained where he was.

  “You gonna quit Engine 12?” Stoker asked. He’d miss his friend but he was more of a loner anyway.

  “Looks like I won’t have a choice. Smokejumpers is where I want to be anyway. The Jackals are awesome.” Even though his eyes twinkled, his words were laced with a hint of sadness.

  “Come on,” Stoker whispered. “You heard the Cap’n.” When they walked out of the office, there was no one in sight. They’d vanished given the fear of retribution. He sig
hed and yanked off his shirt, tossing the unwanted material into his locker. He grabbed his things, threw on a shirt and jacket and headed for the door. “Take care of yourself. Maybe we’ll grab a beer sometime.”

  “Yeah, we should get together for a Burnout meeting soon,” Garcia said as he grinned.

  The exclusive club of firemen and smokejumpers was secretive in nature, given their basic agenda. He knew only what Garcia had told him about the group and their old-fashioned ideals regarding relationships. The members were by invitation only and as of yet, he hadn’t been invited. “Last I checked I wasn’t a member.”

  “We could arrange that,” Garcia offered a knowing grin.

  “Maybe later. I need some time alone to sort through things.” He walked out into the parking lot, glaring at the morning sun. The offer was a backhanded method of pushing Stoker into joining the smoke jumping team.

  “I hear you. I have plenty to do as well,” Garcia called after him. “By the way, there’s always that opening for a jumper.”

  He stopped short. Memories of his last mission would forever burn into the forefront of his mind. “Stop pushing so hard. You know I can’t.”

  “Can’t or won’t?” Garcia flanked his side. “You have to get back in the saddle, my friend.”

  “I’m a fireman. That’s what I do. I don’t need to jump out of a perfectly good plane.” Sweat beaded along the back of his neck. He fisted his hands and could feel the old familiar nausea sweeping into his stomach.

  “Not right now. You know what you need. Why not just come to the hanger, talk with the guys? They can show you the ropes.”

  “Like I said.” He took a deep breath, cognizant of his pulse spiking.

  Garcia placed a hand on his shoulder. “Look, I know it’s rough, but if you don’t try, you’ll never win the battle.”

  “Battle?”

  “Over your demons. I know you. I know what’s going on. You can hide from everyone but that man screaming to crawl out of his shell.”

  Stoker gave him a sideways glance. “That’s your bag, not mine. I’m happy.”

  “If you say so but I think you care more than you let on.”

  He contemplated the words for thirty seconds then took off taking long strides. At this point Stoker didn’t give a shit about anything or anyone.

  “What are doing?” Jessica asked, confronting Wally.

  “What are you talking about?” Wally didn’t bother to look in her direction. He continued to move instruments around the stage.

  “You’re fucking up the set.”

  “Honey, you’re looney tunes.”

  “You asshole!” Infuriated, she ripped the stand he’d positioned twice out of his hand. The force tossed the piece onto the floor, scattering sheet music.

  Wally hissed and turned to glare at her. “What in the fuck is wrong with you? You keep acting like this and I swear to God, I’m going to quit.”

  “Quit? You know what?” she threw out as she burst into laughter. “That would be just fine with all of us.”

  “Is that so?”

  She grinned and placed one hand on her hip. “Oh, you bet. You’re washed up. You really think anyone cares about an old rocker?”

  Her words seemed to stun him. He sucked in his breath, wrinkled his entire face and brushed both hands through his long hair. “You are such a fucking bitch.”

  “What’s going on here?” Cody stepped between them but he only had eyes for Jessica and they were laced with indignation.

  “You need to keep your dog on a leash,” Wally stated as he grabbed his guitar.

  “Yeah? Go fuck yourself.” She honestly had no idea why she was spouting off. The afternoon practice had been amazing, just like old times.

  Wally held up his arms. “After tonight, I’m done.”

  She smirked as he walked away.

  Cody jerked her arm, dragging her toward the curtain of the stage. “Whatever is going on with you, I don’t give a shit. Cut the crap now or we’re going to lose this gig. Got it?”

  “I’m fine. He’s just an ass.”

  After a few seconds, he let her go. “I have no idea what to say to you. Let’s just get this over with. You need a damn break. We all do.”

  She nodded and was about ready to issue a retort until he walked off. A chill swept over her and she huddled against the back of the stage, unsure of why she’d lashed out. She bit her lip and studied the various band members of the different groups walking by. They were engaged, enjoying the benefit. She wasn’t even certain why they’d been asked to perform nor did she know what the show was about. She closed her eyes, pushing away the dull echo ringing in her ears.

  “Ms. Dunn?”

  She swam up from her peaceful moment. “Yes?”

  “You’re wanted on stage.”

  Opening her eyes, there was a moment of true connection with the gorgeous blond. His enigmatic blue eyes drew her in. She could snack on the stagehand. Mmm… Yes, she could. Stop it. You’re not some hussy. She smiled and winked, buried in her leather-clad persona. She was a star after all. “Well, sugar, I am so ready.”

  He seemed taken aback, a deep crimson sliding up the length of his neck. “Um. Good. You have five minutes.”

  Jessica watched him walk away and by the time he reached the curtain, he was completely out of focus and lights flashed in front of her eyes. Her head was pounding and there was no doubt her pulse was racing. Why was she so terrified? She glanced to her right as she wiped her hands on her tight leather skirt. Perspiration clung to every inch of skin, forcing the material to stick to her in such an uncomfortable manner she issued a single moan.

  “Go to the mike.” Cody guided with little emotion or inflection in his voice. He was more than just angry with her.

  She nodded and headed to the microphone. Now her head and neck were in anguish. Bile rose in her throat and she swallowed hard, trying to keep from tossing her burrito lunch. Mexican had been the wrong choice. You can do this. You can do any damn thing you want to do.

  “And now, welcome Fringe!”

  The applause seemed cataclysmic, drawing Jessica into the light. She threw back her arms and strutted toward the microphone. The instant her hand wrapped around the cold steel, she lost it. This wasn’t a life she wanted any longer.

  “You goddamn motherfuckers. I hate all of you!”

  “I don’t know what you want me to say,” Jessica whispered.

  While Cody’s voice was devoid of emotion, Jessica had seen the tears in his eyes. The meltdown wasn’t something she could explain. How could she fathom what she’d done? She rocked back and forth as he typed on his laptop. “Did you get Bob? Is he… okay?” Okay? The man would be pissed. This was her third meltdown in as many months, only this time she knew there was no coming back.

  “Bob? You mean the representative of our record company, the one who’s been tugging us along, reminding us the big boys on the Board of Directors wanted us gone? You mean that Bob? How about Jasper, the manager who just laughed when I called him?”

  She winced and placed her head into her hands. “I’m sorry. What else do you want me to say?”

  “That you’re getting help, Jessica. You’re losing it and you’re not going to take the rest of the band down with you.”

  “What does that mean?” She snapped her head in his direction as a nervous tic appeared in the corner of her mouth.

  Cody typed for another thirty seconds before looking at her. “It means that the record company dropped us.”

  “What?” This couldn’t be happening.

  “Oh yeah. Your behavior tonight sealed the deal. I’ve been working for weeks to try and salvage the little bit of credibility we have and you ceremoniously destroyed the rest of our reputation tonight.” Cody shook his head as he rose to his feet and turned off his computer.

  “Where are you going?” She wrung her hands, longing to have his arms wrapped around her as they walked into his bedroom to watch television or fool around. Tonight,
she could tell he was furious with her.

  “Going? I’m going out for a beer laced with lots of shots of tequila and I plan on getting drunk.” He grabbed his coat and keys and walked past her.

  “Then what?” Jessica whispered.

  He stopped just before the door. “Then what? I’m going to try and figure out what the band is going to do next.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief. She’d wait for him and they’d figure out together what was wrong with her. “Good. We can. We’ll start over and make everything just like it was.”

  Cody sighed and opened the door. “Jessica. There is no ‘we’.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It means that the band voted and you’re out. We just can’t have you annihilating what’s left of any possibilities for our future.”

  Her legs shaking, she rose to her feet and walked toward him. “Cody. I might be out of sorts and need some rest but—”

  “No buts,” he interrupted. “You need help and I honestly hope you find some peace.” He fiddled with the doorknob.

  “Please. I swear to God I can get better.”

  “I know you can.” He gave her a half smile. “But we can’t wait. No, we won’t wait.”

  “Cody.”

  “Jessica,” he whispered as he turned his head quickly then looked back at the door. “I can’t wait.”

  “We can get through anything if we’re together,” she whispered as she stood shaking. She was nothing more than a bad little girl. Conflicting emotions swirled through her mind. Did she even care? She didn’t love him, not in the way they both needed. The band was nothing more than a distraction from experiencing a real life. As if she knew what that was.

  He exhaled and slapped his hand on the wall next to the door. “I love you.”

  “Good. I love you, too.” She walked closer.

  Throwing out his hand, he shook his head and darted a single glance in her direction. “Jessica, make certain you’re gone when I get back. Okay?”

  “Gone?” Tears slipped down her face. She was stunned and almost dropped to her knees. He didn’t wait for her answer. He was gone, closing the door with a hard thud. “No.” She looked at the door and fell to a fetal position. “No!”