Vital Signs (14 page)

After all, he was alone and needing care. She hated seeing a strong life cut away by cancer, but all she could do was give him comfort now. Since he didn’t like the hospice nurses who came to sit with him daily, he preferred to call Sarita.

When she reached his small house nestled between a deli and a duplex, she wondered at his life before she’d known him. They spent little time discussing his past. And his future was short, so they stayed on neutral ground—his wife and her family back in the Dominican Republic.

Without knocking she walked in. The older man was shrunken under his disease. His white hair stuck up in shocks on his head, but his brown face wreathed in wrinkles as she neared.

“Hello, Sarita. My dear girl, always coming to the rescue of an old man.”

She looked closer at his color, noting the blueness beneath his pallor. The tinge in his nail beds confirmed he was short of oxygen. As always.

While she made conversation, she checked his machine and gave him a bit more oxygen. She set about listening to his lungs and heart. The arrhythmia she detected there said he didn’t have much time left.

Fighting back a tear in her eye, she sat on a small footstool to chat with him. After all, what Mr. Martinez wanted more than a new set of lungs was company.

“You’re wearing your uniform today. Are you coming off your shift?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Going to it soon. I just came from the fire station.”

He leaned against his recliner and issued a sigh that sounded as a rattle. “Is that so?”

“Yes, I’m seeing someone who works there.”

He arched a brow.

“A firefighter from East Street. He was injured on the job, but now he’s whole and back to work. Today they were doing a calendar photo shoot.”

“Calendar, you say?” His eyes ringed with amusement.

She smiled back. “Yes, to raise money. The firehouse is in bad repair. If they can’t raise enough money to fix it up, the city will condemn the building and the firefighters will be dismissed.”

Mr. Martinez gave a small shake of his head, but she could tell even such a small movement exhausted him. His hands hung limp in his lap.

Reaching out, she adjusted the crocheted blanket around his legs and continued, “It’s a sad state they’re in. I wish I could help in some way.”

“Just like my Little Flower.” His nickname for his wife. “Always wanting to do good…to save the world.”

“I can do so little, I’m afraid. Maybe after I get enough saved to bring my family to the United States, I can start contributing to the firehouse fund.”

“That sounds like a fine idea, Sarita.” His eyelids drooped.

Seeing he was on the verge of a nap, she stood. Patted his shoulder and smoothed the hair sticking up on his head. “Sleep, Mr. Martinez.”

“Who am I to go against your instructions?” His eyes slipped closed. His chest heaved.

She stared down at him for a long minute after he’d fallen asleep. It was sad to think of him moving on from his broken body, but right now she couldn’t think of a happier thing than for him to be freed from it. Such a bright spirit, trapped in pain and suffering.

On impulse she pressed a kiss to his cheek and hurried from his house. Closing the door firmly and walking uptown to her own station. Where she was promptly dispatched to a fire on the south side two blocks from where Mrs. Allancamp lived.

As a wall of heat struck Corey straight in the face, he braced himself. This monster of flames was no match for him or his team.

“Behind you with hose!” someone hollered. He stepped aside to let the guys rush into the space and flood it with enough water to fill a swimming pool. When the fire died down a bit, Corey and his men went in.

Jagger and Gabriel split off to search the ground floor. Corey took Joey and several others into the second story. Joey found two girls hidden in their closet right away, and Corey ordered ladders to the upper windows to help them escape safely.

Everything about this fire looked fishy to him. The same neighborhood where Mitch had grown up. But this home had a mother and father who worked while their two little girls were babysat by a grandmother in the home.

He couldn’t help but connect some dots in his mind. Or at least what he believed to be true. Mitch hadn’t had the ideal family, so he was working house by house, family by family, to snuff that joy out for other people.

Not this time, asshole.

The kids were safe on the ground. The grandmother being taken by ambulance right now. In the back of his head he wondered if Sarita were with the woman.

Corey gave a few orders to bring his men out of the house and the fire was brought under control. Before he had his helmet fully off, Chief was standing before him. “I have news for you.” He waved Corey away from the crowd to speak to him.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“That file you wanted to see? I had access to it.”

Corey’s eyes widened. “You read it?”

“Yeah, and it’s as we suspected. Mitchell Allancamp was setting fires at the age of six. Claims his friend’s teddy bear was staring at him and he didn’t like it so he set it on fire. Burned a house to the ground. Then later he must have gotten a taste for it. Setting fires all over the neighborhood. People began to fear him. And then he lit one in an alley that killed a homeless woman.”

“Fuck.” Corey ran his finger through his sweaty hair.

“Yeah. He was charged with arson and murder but a public defender got him off with probation and counseling.”

“And then he just faded from the public eye until now?”

“Seems that way. I also found out what company uses the cable that was used to restrain Mrs. Allancamp.”

Corey waited, the sirens and shouts from around him fading.

“You were right that it’s only used in construction sites. They use it to lift heavy steel I-beams and things of that nature. What you may be more interested to know is that the same person who owns and operates this construction crew also owns a swimming pool installation company.”

The breath rushed out of Corey as if Chief had sucker-punched him. “I fucking knew it.”

Chief nodded, a half-smile on his face. “If you ever want out of the firefighter business, you’d have a good home as an investigator.”

“If we don’t get the station up to code, I’ll have something to consider, won’t I? So what happens now? Is the FBI moving on this guy?”

“Yeah, they’re hunting him down as we speak.”

Corey nodded. While he wanted to look Mitchell in the eye and invite him to spend eternity in hell for all those he’d harmed, including Corey, the authorities were better equipped to handle him. “And Mrs. Allancamp?”

“In a rehab. After she’s clean they’ll find a halfway house for her.”

Feeling a bit of the weight shift off his shoulders, Corey took leave of Chief. He spent some time talking to the guys. Jagger was being treated for a cut that reminded Corey of Sarita’s anger when she’d seen the laceration on his own cheekbone. He probed the edge of it with his fingertip. It no longer hurt but had a few more days of healing before the scab fell off.

When his phone vibrated, he expected to see her name on his screen. After all their time together, he felt as if they had a little cord strung between them. If he was thinking about her, she’d get a tug and respond to him. And vice versa.

He smiled but as soon as he spotted the unfamiliar number, his smile faded.

“Hello?”

Breathing. A dial tone.

He stared at the phone in his hand and it rang again. This time it was Sarita. Hysterical sobs sounded in his ear.

“Baby, what is it? What’s wrong?”

“It’s Mr. Martinez. I stopped to check on him and…” her voice trembled, “…he’s gone. He passed sometime after I left him.”

“Oh angel.” He leaned against the side of the engine, aching to pull her into his arms and comfort her. “Where are you now?”

“At my…apartment. I couldn’t function after I found him and my shift boss sent me home.”

“Good. I’ll be there as soon as I wrap up here. We’ve got the fire under control.”

“Hurry, Corey.” The plea in her voice undid him. At that moment, he knew his course. And it was with Sarita. He was in love with her, would do anything for her.

“I’m coming. Make a cup of tea and get under the covers and wait for me, okay?”

“Yes, Corey. I…” She seemed to struggle to keep from saying more, but she didn’t need to. He understood perfectly. In their worst moments, they needed each other most.

“I know, love. I’ll be there soon.” He hung up, his mind dashing ahead to comforting the woman he loved. But he couldn’t help but wonder about that hang-up phone call he’d received. He hoped the proper authorities knew what the hell was going on, because Corey was officially off-duty.

»»•««

Corey stripped Sarita with a slow, lingering thoroughness. Each piece of clothing that fell away made her feel as though she were shedding her day’s stress.

She stared at her lover in awe. She could see in his eyes he had no intention of spanking or biting this time around, but she had no doubt his claim would be lesser. No, the love shining in his eyes stole her breath.

She reached for him, sliding her arms around his neck and going onto tiptoe to press herself against his erection. He’d torn off his clothes with haste but gently removed hers as though she were a fragile goblet.

Her breasts rose and fell with every breath she took. Need flowed like a hot river through her core. In one smooth glide he lifted her, hooking her thighs around his hips. In two steps they were on the mattress, entwined, mouths locked.

He angled his head, dipping his tongue past her lips. She mewled and drew him closer with her ankles on his back.

“I want you with no barrier,” she whispered.

He went still and raised his head slowly to pierce her in his intense stare. “I’m clean,” he grated out.

“So am I, and I’m on the pill to regulate my cycles.” A blush resounded in her voice. Where she came from, a girl would only discuss such a thing with her mother.

He cupped her jaw. “If you’re sure.”

She nodded.

With a growl, he lunged for her throat. Sucking and nibbling up to her earlobe, which he fastened onto with his teeth. She barely registered the sharp bite there when he entered her.

Filling her in one swift shove. Stretching her around his thickness.

She cried out, her inner walls clutching at him. He reared his head back, eyes wild. “Fuck, you’re so hot and tight. I haven’t… God, Sarita, I love you.”

Her senses went haywire at his confession. As if realizing his slip, his eyes widened. She threaded her fingers through his hair and met his gaze. “I love you too, Corey. Take me.”

When he gazed into her eyes and started to glide in and out of her, she knew she was right where she needed to be. No matter what the future held, she’d have a beautiful man at her side.

As he sank into her again and again, she kissed him. Long, deep kisses that didn’t begin to reveal the joy in her heart or the connection she felt to him. Pressure built inside her. He circled his hips, hitting all her best spots, and she sucked in a sharp breath.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, angel. I can’t last.”

She sucked on his lower lip. “Don’t. I’m coming.” With a cry, she burst. Fireworks exploded behind her eyes and traveled through her whole body. Her pussy contracted fast and hard as he pounded into her with a roar of his own. After several minutes her body stopped twitching around him. He issued a groan and rolled to the side, taking her with him, their bodies still joined.

With her cheek cradled against his hard chest, she dragged in a breath of his spicy scent. “I didn’t know that sex could be a comfort.”

“Hmm. When it’s done right, I guess it is.” He squeezed her tighter. “Are you all right?”

She knew he was talking about Mr. Martinez. “It’s a sad thing to deal with losing a patient. Especially one who I was close to. But I know he’s in a better place too. His suffering needed to come to an end.” Tears prickled the back of her eyes but didn’t fall.

“You are a good and generous woman, Sarita. But you’re strong as well. Strong enough to kick my butt into gear when I needed it most.”

She smiled against his pec. “You were one of my more difficult patients.”

He gave a huff of laughter. “And here I thought I was going easy on you because you were so beautiful.”

She sank her teeth into his skin, and he gave another chuckle. “And I won’t put up with your crap, Corey.”

“Keep saying my name with that rolling R of yours and I’ll be your slave.” He pinned her to him and before long the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest told her he’d drifted off.

If this was love, she’d take it and cling to it with both arms—and both legs too. Because she couldn’t predict what tomorrow might bring.

Corey walked in to see a life-sized poster of himself on the far wall of the firehouse. He had to admit, he didn’t look weak but it wasn’t his dream to be a model either.

He waved a hand at the image of him, jaw raised, his helmet cupped over his junk. “What’s that about?”

“Congratulations, you’re the centerfold.” Jagger twitched his jaw toward the photo but didn’t get up from the sofa where he was playing a video game between fire calls. “Selected by the photographer.”

Corey groaned. “Just what I always hoped for.”

“Well let’s hope your photo goes a long way because the calendar hits the streets by the end of the week.”

“That soon?” He took a seat opposite his friend. Jagger wore a smirk that meant he was up to something. Corey narrowed his eyes. “What’s the real reason for that life-sized poster of myself?”

A grin broke over Jagger’s features. “Wall collapsed last night. You’re covering the hole.”

“No way.” Corey stared.

“See for yourself.”

Corey got up and walked to the wall. Pulling aside the poster, he jerked. Sure enough Jagger had been telling the truth. Somehow the cement block had crumbled, leaving a hole large enough for a man to crawl through. “Holy fuck.”

“Yeah, Chief’s not happy. The downstairs sink broke too. And that sewer gas is still stinking up the kitchen. Wouldn’t go in there if I were you.” Jagger went back to his game and Corey left the main room in search of the chief.