Stoking the Embers (New Adult Romantic Suspense): The Complete Series (17 page)

“Talk to me, Steph.” Octavio is insistent, he won’t allow me to turn my head. “Come on, baby girl, we’re on the way to the hospital if you don’t say something soon.”

“How could this happen?” The words finally spill from my mouth.

As if from a deep sleep, feeling returns to my limbs. I shiver, sudden cold infusing me, and I realize it’s still pouring down rain. I wish I could go back into the nothingness of a moment ago… that place was so warm and tranquil.

Metal crunches and I look to my right to see a fold-up chair has been thrown against a tree. Ken is enraged and kicks at the innocent chair. He roars his rage into the downpour. I’ve never seen anyone so mad.

Captain Frank looks at me and points. “Octavio and Gage, get Stephanie out of here. Put her in my truck, there’s a blanket in the back.”

He turns and shouts another order, “Ed and Jeff, come help me with Ken.”

Jeff squeezes my shoulder and follows his boss, but I’ve turned away before I can see what happens next. Ken is still raging, still out of control. All I can do is be led, silent and impotent. I helplessly allow Octavio to guide me to the truck, and sleep, glorious sleep.

Chapter 2 – Ken

“Fucking bastard!”

Pure rage blinds me, taking over my senses until I’m certain the world has turned to fire and all sounds are lost. I stumble over something and pain flares in my shin. It increases my fury and I kick the metal chair, then throw it as hard as I can.

“I’ll kill him!”

It’s a promise sworn through gritted teeth just as a hand clamps down on my shoulder. I turn and swing, but my assailant’s expecting it and ducks harmlessly out of the way. I swing again, finding only thin air.

“Stop! Ken, it’s me.”

Arms wrap around my chest from behind, pinning my arms to my waist. I struggle; I’m under attack by forces unknown. Swinging my head backwards, I feel the back of my skull connect with the fucker’s nose.

Then I’m on the ground and three men hold me down.

“Ken!”

“Stop it!”

“You’re okay, we got you. You’re okay.”

I’m heaving against their weight. I’ve got to get up. I’ve got to… do what?

It’s that lone question that stills me. What can I do? There is no undoing what’s just been done. My vision clears; only the peripherals are still dim. I can hear voices, although they are still the faintest of echoes. Faces appear over me.

My friends are here; they’ll help me. “Let me up. We’ve got to get the bastard.” Why are they still holding me down?

Captain Frank appears and says, “Stop fighting. That’s an order.”

I stop, grudgingly. Why aren’t they helping me? We’re blood brothers. We need to be fighting the enemy. If one of them were under attack, I’d have their backs.

I struggle to sit up and they let me, hands still on my shoulders and arms. Rain is still pouring down, chilling my heated skin. I raise my face to the torrent; it pelts my skin. I open my mouth and welcome the water. Slowly, very slowly, I come back to my senses.

Stephanie.

I look around and see her being nearly carried to a truck by Octavio and Gage. Her head is lolled back on her shoulders and her long blonde hair is plastered against her back. I remember the video, how her face was twisted in the throes of ecstasy. It was a face that was for my eyes only… it was our first moment together. Private. Now every person in Vegas—the world?— knows how we’ve behaved with each other.

Fuck.

I watch Octavio let go of her to open the door of the truck and Stephanie’s legs buckle and she starts to sink to the ground. Gage grabs her and lifts her in his arms. Then she’s inside the truck and the guys are in behind her. If I ever had a moment of doubt, if I ever thought Stephanie might have known about or been responsible for that video… that doubt vanishes with the wind.

No. Not Stephanie. Her fucking ex is torturing her. But how? I’ll find out how and I’ll make sure the pussy pays for what he’s done to her. To us.

“I’m cool, guys. Let me up.” I shake off the hands still holding me in place, then take the one offered and haul myself up from the mud. I press the heels of my hands into my eyes, then rake them through my hair. I can’t wrap my head around all this. The video via a freakin’ amber alert? How could the asshole pull something like this off?

I look at Captain Frank and ask the question of the hour, “How could someone hack the alert system like that?”

He shakes his head and clamps his hand on my shoulder. “I don’t know, but we’ll damn well find out. We need to get out here.” He points at Ed. “Drive him home; Jeff can follow in your truck.”

“I can drive—”

“That’s an order!” he interrupts, his eyes narrow in his ‘don’t fuck with me’ look. “You’re not getting behind the wheel right now. Don’t make me duct tape your ass to a seat. I don’t want to see or hear from you again until O-nine-hundred tomorrow. My office. Got it?”

“But captain, it’s my shift tomorrow.”

“One of the guys will enjoy the overtime. Just be in my office at nine.”

I nod. “Got it.” The captain then turns sharply on his heel and walks away as thunder rumbles through the sky.

“Let’s go,” Jeff says, holding a hand to his busted nose.

“Sorry about your face; I didn’t mean to do that.” I give him a quick once-over; it doesn’t look broken, but he’s already got the beginnings of a shiner.

“No problem, man. I would have reacted the same if I were in your shoes. That’s crazy man. Damn sorry it happened. We’ll find the bastard who did it.”

Jerome. Even thinking the name stokes the fire of my rage.

“Come on,” Ed says as lighting blazes a trail across the sky. “It’s about to get nasty.”

I look up at the sky and thunder vibrates the ground.

Nasty.

It already is.

Chapter 3 – Steph

“Steph, are you okay? Steph?” Beth’s voice is so soothing, but I don’t want to wake from this dream.

Is it a dream? Or is she part of the dream? I slip from reality to fantasy without knowing the borders between the two.

In the distance I hear her. “Steph, it’s me, Beth. Are you okay?”

Okay? I’ll never be okay. Is that my real self or my sleeping self wallowing in loathsome self-pity?

It’s a dream: girl meets boy, girl falls for boy, girl causes boy’s life to turn to shit. No, that’s reality. No, a nightmare. Both. I keep my eyes closed, unwilling to allow consciousness to sort this all out.

“Steph, wake up.” Beth’s hand is gentle as she shakes my shoulder. I roll onto my back and squint into the late afternoon sun streaming through my front window. I try hard to focus, but my eyes blur with unshed tears when I see the compassion in Beth’s face.

“Tell me it was a dream,” I say to her, still clinging to the hope. Beth’s face collapses and I know the answer without her needing to say a word. She pushes my hair back from my face as the first tear falls.

“What can I do for you?” she asks, laying her cool hand on my forehead as if checking for a fever. “Can I get you something to drink? We need to get you out of these wet clothes. How about you change while I make some hot tea?”

Without giving me time to answer, she stands and begins rummaging through my dresser. She pulls out a pair of sweatpants and a tank top as well as my favorite fuzzy socks. She steps into my bathroom and turns the shower on full steam, then walks back to me, takes my hand and pulls me to my feet.

“Take your time,” she says. “I’ll be just outside. I’ll leave the doors open, so yell if you need anything.”

Like a robot, I strip and step under the hot water. It’s fiery hot, but I don’t turn it down. I wash my hair, scrubbing at my scalp. I wish I could scrub my brain clean too and let all the filth lingering there wash down the drain.

I stay until the water turns cold and I’m shivering, even colder than before. I pull on the clothes and wrap my hair in a towel turban. Then I find a warm cardigan to pull over my tank top and walk into the living room, adjust the air conditioner to warm the place up a bit, then sit down with a worried looking Beth.

“A detective is coming by in a few hours. Apparently the, uh…” she presses the heels of her hands into her eyes. She blows out a breath and looks at me. “Apparently, Ken told the police that the sex scene was videoed from your couch. So the camera that filmed it has to be in this room.”

Swallowing, I pull out my phone and click the horrid link to watch the video again.
File not found.
The video has been removed. I lay the phone down and look around my home.

“I don’t remember much,” I begin. “I think it was instant shock, but if I remember correctly, he’s right. It was from the first time we were together. Right here.” I pat the seat cushion beside me, remembering how wonderfully special it had been. Ruined. Now the moment is ruined forever. I’m surprised at how much the loss of it hurts my heart.

Beth stands up and moves around the room. She peers at the pictures hanging on the walls and even fingers a spot on the wall where the paint has chipped. Turning, she says, “I don’t see anything that looks like a camera lens.”

I lean forward and look at the tiny black dot on my laptop, the camera built into the computer. Beth shakes her head. “I already thought of that. But the video looked like it had been filmed from across the room. There wasn’t anything… uh... close up.”

I bury my head in my hands. “This is a nightmare, and now the police are involved? Did Ken call them? Do you know what happened? Can you tell me everything you know?”

Beth shoves a mug of tea in my hands and then sits down and picks up one for herself. “It started when I got a text message; it was an amber alert. The weird thing— well, one of the weird things anyway—is that I never signed up to receive messages for them. But, there it was. I opened it and couldn’t believe my eyes. It said to watch a video of you and Ken together, click here.”

“You clicked.” It wasn’t an accusation, just a whispered assertion.

Beth nods. “I thought it had to be a joke. At first, I almost didn’t open it. I was afraid it was one of those viruses stupid hackers send out. Then, I had to know. As soon the video started to play, I shut it off.”

How? Why? The questions continue to haunt me.

“I immediately called your phone, but I couldn’t get through. There was a weird beeping kind of ring and then it would go silent. I called and called, just kept hitting re-dial. Finally, a man answered. He said his name was Gage and he was bringing you home. I told him I had a spare key and would meet him here.”

Beth takes a long drink of her tea and grimaces as the hot liquid burns her tongue. “Gage and another fireman or paramedic, I’m not sure, carried you up the stairs and brought you inside. You were pretty out of it. They told me the police had been notified and that it would be considered a federal crime because someone had hacked the amber alert registry to send the message out.”

“How’s Ken?”

Beth moves around the table and wipes away the tears falling down my cheek. “Do you want me to call him? I’m sure he’s worried about you too.”

Leaning forward, I put my head down into my palms. “No, I’ll call him later. I don’t want to talk to anyone right now.”

Beth’s eyes widen and she curls her legs into the chair. “Why? Is there something you’re not telling me? Did he do something to you?”

“No.” I shake my head and pull the towel from around my hair. I comb through the wet strands with my fingers. “At least, I don’t think so. I don’t know. It’s all so confusing.”

“Let’s start from the beginning then,” Beth urges. “I’m totally confused here too.”

“Well, let’s just say that the video was only the highlight of an extremely weird and emotionally fucked up day.” I almost laugh. Almost. I’m afraid to, though. I’m afraid I can’t control it, that once the first burst of it is unleashed, it would never stop and I’ll be dragged, kicking and screaming, into an institution for the insane.

“What else happened?” Beth’s question brings me back to reality and I tell her about my bad grade, my lunch with Professor Donovan and how Jerome crashed Planet Hollywood with his elaborate proposal.

“You’re shitting me!”

“No, he was on one knee, holding up this freaking huge diamond, professing undying love. Proposal 101 right in front of me.”

“What… what did you say?”

“I asked him to leave and he went ape-shit crazy. Beth, he stood up in the middle of Planet H and yelled at every woman in there. He asked if they wouldn’t have loved having a man propose like that.”

“He didn’t,” Beth gasps.

“Oh yes he did. And the horror of it all, is the women were looking at me with daggers in their eyes. Like I was the crazy one.”

“Oh no,” Beth groans, biting at the cuticle of her thumb.

“Finally, he leaves and the good news is that Professor Donovan was appalled for me. She said she had gotten goosebumps the moment he approached us, like someone ‘walked over her grave,’ is how she put it. She asked me if he did drugs and I told her I didn’t think so. She had asked because she said his pupils were so dilated and he looked strung out. Mad. Like crazy whacked out mad.”