Page 21 of Forged By Fire (Danger in Destiny #9)

Chapter Twenty

W orry sparked as Leslie handed over the phone and Clint read the text.

Getting an infection this early in the recovery process could set Danny back and make it hard for his wounds to heal.

At least the doctors at Destiny Community Hospital were some of the best. They’d stay on top of things and do what they could to help Danny.

He moved to hand the phone back to Leslie and stopped.

She was staring at the wall behind him, her shoulders slightly rounded, her jaw clenched. Her chin quivered as a single tear squeezed past her defenses and rolled down her cheek.

Clint didn’t ask for permission or worry that he was crossing a line. He simply tossed her phone onto the nearby couch and stepped forward to wrap his arms around her.

She leaned into his chest and buried her face in his shirt. If it weren’t for the gentle shake of her shoulders and the occasional sniff, he wouldn’t even know she was crying.

At first, he said nothing. All the platitudes in the world wouldn’t help ease the overwhelming stress and worry she had to be feeling right now.

It was only after her tears had subsided that he finally uttered the prayer in his heart.

“Dear Heavenly Father, we lift Danny up to You. Please hold him in Your mighty hand. Help his body to combat this infection and to heal the way you designed it to. Guide the doctors and nurses caring for him. Give Danny and Becca a healthy dose of peace, and let them feel Your presence in all things. We thank You that Danny’s fellow firefighters were able to get him out in time, for the swift action of Curtis and the EMTs, and for a successful surgery that’s brought him to where he is now. ”

Leslie wiped at the tears on her face and gave a gentle nod. “Yes, Lord,” she breathed.

Clint rested his cheek against the side of her head.

“I also pray a hedge of protection around Leslie. Please keep her safe. Not just physically. Guard her heart and her mind against any doubts and fear. Help us figure out who’s doing these terrible things so we can work together to bring justice for Danny and make sure no one else gets hurt.

We are so thankful for Your many blessings, Father. Amen.”

“Amen.” Leslie slipped her arms around his waist and gave him a fierce hug.

He breathed in the subtle scent of her hair that reminded him of fresh flowers right after a spring rain.

She stepped away. Her eyes looked tired, and her cheeks were pink. Whether it was from crying or their hug, he wasn’t sure. Most likely a combination.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Letting me fall apart like that. For not allowing me to do it alone. ”

“I just witnessed an amazingly strong woman completely shake off the past two days of stress and emerge even more resilient than ever.” He reached out and lightly touched her cheek with his thumb. “You’ve got this.”

“No. We’ve got this.”

Something passed between them. It was fleeting and fragile and new, but it was there, and Clint prayed they’d get a chance to explore the possibilities together.

Leslie pressed her hands to her cheeks and gave a nervous laugh. “I’m going to go clean up. I feel like a mess.”

“Take your time. I’ll be here.”

With a nod and a small smile, she turned and left the room.

Clint checked his watch. It was nearly four o’clock.

As soon as he and Paris saw the melted fire truck in the driver’s seat of Leslie’s car, they knew things had escalated.

Unlike breaking into the house and sending her a picture, torching a toy fire truck and attaching her name to it landed directly in the threat category.

It still wasn’t clear why the suspect was targeting her, though.

Before Clint had a chance to say anything earlier, Paris had expressed concern about Leslie staying at the house alone. It only echoed his own worries.

When she got back from cleaning up, he planned to offer to sleep on her couch. At least then he could watch her back. If she didn’t agree, he’d stay in his car out front overnight.

He settled into the recliner and went through his e-mails and messages.

Twenty minutes later, Leslie walked back into the living room. Her hair, which she’d braided, was still wet and dripping a little onto the back of her shirt. She’d changed into an oversized long-sleeved shirt and a pair of lounge pants.

The biggest difference, however, was that she seemed more herself again. Her back was straight, her arms relaxed. Even though she had to be exhausted, she looked like she was ready to dive right back into the case. He greatly admired that about her.

Clint got to his feet and waited until she’d taken a seat on the couch before joining her.

“Thank you for waiting. Just the thought of showering while I was alone in the house gave me flashbacks of every horror movie and bathroom murder scene that I’ve ever seen.” She shuddered.

He laughed. “Seriously, it wasn’t a problem.”

“Thanks for what you said earlier, too. I hate being that stereotypical woman who starts crying when things get rough.”

He immediately raised a hand to stop her from continuing her train of thought.

“I’m going to share something my mom once told me.

It was back in junior high. I was twelve and sure I knew everything.

Well, I had a best friend named Ben, and we hung out all the time.

Until one day, he betrayed my confidence.

I’m not going to go into details, but I truly felt as though he’d stabbed me in the back. ”

It’d been like torture trying to get through the rest of the school day while Ben was laughing at him with some of the other kids.

“When I got home, I went right to my bedroom. And there I was, this big, macho preteen crying my eyes out. My mom came in, and I remember standing up and trying to wipe the tears away before she saw because I didn’t want her to think I was being a baby.

” He shifted so that he was facing Leslie.

“Mom told me that sometimes crying is the body’s way of getting rid of all those things that are weighing us down.

Tears aren’t simply drops of saltwater; they represent our worries and hurts and fears.

We have to let them go before we’re able to focus on something better. ”

“Wow.” She swallowed hard and blinked tears from her eyes. “Your mom is good.”

He laughed. “Yes, she is. Of course, this is the same woman who once yelled at me to clean my room, or she was going to buy a pig to complete the ensemble. So, there you go.”

Leslie tipped her head back and laughed loudly, and he couldn’t help but join in. It felt good to simply relax and share a laid-back moment with her.

And it was good to see that smile again, too.

His parents would like her. A lot. He prayed he’d have the opportunity to introduce her to them someday.

Clint’s stomach growled, and he realized he had never eaten lunch. He wasn’t sure whether Leslie had gotten something at the hospital or not. He’d planned to ask her out to eat before everything imploded this afternoon. “Why don’t I call and have a pizza delivered?”

“What about work? Don’t you need to go back to the precinct?”

Clint leaned forward a little. “I’m not going anywhere.

After everything that happened with your car, I really don’t feel comfortable leaving you here alone.

I can crash on the couch tonight. Or if you’d prefer, I can stay in my car outside—it wouldn’t be the first time. If you have no objections, of course.”

He’d been prepared to give reasons why it would be a good idea. To his surprise, her uncertain expression gave way to relief as she nodded her agreement .

“I’d feel so much better if you stayed. I’ve got blankets and an extra pillow.” She got to her feet.

“Are you sure it won’t be an inconvenience?”

“I think I’m the one who should be asking you that.”

He assured her that it wasn’t, and some of the stress in her features seemed to melt away.

“Then I think a pizza is a great idea.”

Clint placed the order online and joined Leslie in the kitchen, where she was pulling down plates for their meal.

She turned to look at him. “Did anything come of the appointment with the psychologist? Is it possible that Ortiz is the person behind all of this?”

That’s right, they hadn’t even had a chance to talk about the interview.

“Dr. Gerard never met Ortiz, and he didn’t have access to the files from Ortiz’s stay at rehab.

He did verify that much of Ortiz’s behavior at the station sounded like kleptomania, except when he was caught trying to take the turnout gear.

Apparently stealing something to sell or even working with someone else is very uncharacteristic of the illness. ”

“They never caught or identified the person who was helping Ortiz, did they?”

“Not at the time. He and Ortiz were roommates for a while.” He told her a little more of what was said during the interview. “Ortiz did give us a name, but he hadn’t seen the guy in over a year. Paris is hoping to track him down and bring him in for questioning tomorrow.”

“You don’t think it’s Ortiz, do you?”

“Honestly? No. He’s made mistakes, that’s for sure. But there was nothing about the man that hinted at him being a stalker or becoming violent. His old roommate, though? That remains to be seen. ”

Leslie leaned against the counter and frowned. “I just wish we knew why this was happening at all. I mean, if he is targeting me, there must be a reason. I keep wondering what I could’ve done to make someone hate me so much.”

Clint couldn’t imagine Leslie doing anything to make someone truly angry with her.

Certainly not like this. He moved to stand in front of her and reached out to cup her elbows with his hands.

“Whatever’s going on, it has more to do with him than it does with you.

Assuming you’re the actual target. It could be a general anger toward the fire department, and something happened to put you and Danny on his radar. ”

“I’m tired of all the guesswork, Clint.”

He was, too. Not having solid answers was making it incredibly difficult to predict—and catch—the man responsible.

Clint excused himself to grab a duffel bag from his patrol car.

He always carried it with him in case he needed a change of clothes when he was out late or on a stake-out.

He even included personal items like a toothbrush and deodorant.

He happily changed out of his uniform and into a regular pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt.

Once the pizza arrived, they spent the evening eating and watching a funny movie they’d both seen before. The predictable plot and laughs were exactly what they needed.

It was after ten when Leslie covered a yawn at the same time Clint stifled one of his own. They both chuckled at the timing.

Leslie ran a finger under one of her eyes.

“As much as I don’t want to admit it, I’m going to need to crash.

Let me go get the pillow and blankets for you.

” She turned and went to the cabinet at the end of the hall.

When she came back, her arms were full of blankets with a pillow balanced on top.

“ This couch is actually really comfortable.” She waited for him to move, then started to arrange the bedding.

“Do you sleep out here often?”

She shrugged. “Sometimes. I did last night.”

She likely slept on the couch when she had trouble falling asleep, and it was no wonder why she might not have gotten much rest with everything going on.

They worked together in silence as Clint helped her straighten the bottom blanket and then spread out another one on top.

Leslie tossed the pillow onto one end of the couch. She yawned again and groaned.

He gently cradled her face with his hands. “Go get some sleep. I’ve got everything under control out here.”

“Promise you’ll wake me up if any new information comes in?”

“I promise.” He brushed a feather-light kiss against her lips before stepping back again. “Good night.”

A soft pink dusted her cheeks. “Good night.”

He waited until she’d walked down the short hallway and gone into her bedroom before he let himself flop back onto the couch.