Page 28 of Forged By Fire (Danger in Destiny #9)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

T he sound of her cell phone ringing pierced Leslie’s jumbled dream. She blinked as confusion and the remains of the dream muddled her mind. Where was she? She started to sit up, and her arm gave a painful twinge.

She was sleeping on the couch. That’s right. It’d been Clint’s suggestion. He thought it would help prevent her from accidentally rolling onto her injured arm in the middle of the night. Judging from the pain now, it was a good decision.

Her head dropped back onto the pillow, and she breathed in deep. It and the blanket smelled faintly of Clint’s soap or deodorant. Whatever it was, it made her feel safe.

A text came through on her phone, reminding Leslie of what woke her up in the first place.

More carefully this time, she sat up and reached for the phone as Clint padded out of the guest room in his bare feet .

“Are you okay?” He ran a hand through his tousled hair. “Do you need anything?”

“No, I’m okay. I missed a call?—”

It was from Cindy, and it was almost one in the morning. The text was from her, too.

Sorry to wake you, but I need your help. Bree’s sick again, and I just dropped glass all over the kitchen floor.

Leslie tried to call her sister back, but it went to voicemail. Had Cindy cut herself on the glass? She pictured her sister trying to carry Bree while bleeding all over the floor. Maybe that’s why she hadn’t answered her call. She sent a text.

Oh, no! Just leave the glass. I’ll be there soon to help you clean it up.

She tossed her phone onto the coffee table, then told Clint what was going on as she threw the blanket off her legs.

“Cindy wouldn’t have called this late if she didn’t really need help.

She might have cut herself on the glass.

And trust me, when Bree isn’t feeling well, she can be a screaming machine. I’m going to change quick.”

“Let me know if you need any help. I’ll get ready and drive you over.”

The prospect of Clint helping her dress sent heat straight to her face. Suddenly, she was aware of the fact that he was wearing a pair of sleep pants and a T-shirt that was tight enough to showcase all the muscles in his arms and chest. Between that and the messy hair...

Her throat dry, she forced herself to speak casually. “Yeah. Thank you.” She hurried from the room .

Back at the hospital, she’d had the nurse help her into a clean bra and long-sleeved shirt, which she still wore. All she needed was a pair of jeans, which she managed to button with one hand. She slipped on her shoes and grabbed her purse.

Within minutes, they were in Clint’s car on the way to Cindy’s house. Not for the first time, Leslie was glad they lived on the same side of town.

As they pulled up to the house, Leslie noticed that most of the lights were on.

Clint helped her out of the car, and she was careful not to bump her arm on the door. She fished the keys from her pocket and started toward the house.

“Oh! Clint, could you grab my purse? I forgot it in the floorboard.”

“Sure.”

With a nod, she continued down the concrete path that led from the curb to the front door. She and Cindy had exchanged house keys just in case they ever needed them.

The shrubs lined both sides of the small porch. The porch light wasn’t on, so the only light illuminating the front came from the streetlight two houses down.

Leslie had just registered the smell of kerosene as she reached for the doorknob when someone grabbed her from behind and whipped her around to face the street. Her keys fell and skidded across the porch and into the shrubs.

She barely had time to gasp before cold metal pressed against the side of her head.

“Stay quiet, or I’ll pull the trigger right now.” The voice, low and menacing, spoke next to her right ear.

“Put it down. Now.”

Leslie’s gaze swung to Clint, who was standing in the middle of the pathway, his gun drawn. But her captor was holding her directly in front of him, so there was no way Clint could get a clean shot.

“If you take a step closer, I’ll blow her head off.” The man’s voice dripped with disdain.

Panic flared, and she instinctively tried to move away from the gun. Her captor immediately grabbed her left arm and squeezed against the bullet wound from earlier. She let out a low groan of agony at the white-hot pain.

“You shoot her, and I promise you’ll die.” Clint’s voice was calm. Even.

“I don’t figure I’m walking away from this anyway, so I’m going to finish what I started.” He pressed the muzzle of the gun even harder against her temple.

Leslie flinched. The idea that it could go off at any time sent shivers of fear down her spine. Her brain wanted to shut down with panic, but she needed to stay focused. Calm.

“My wife died because of you,” the man snarled, his warm breath against her ear and neck.

“Jacob Boulder.” The name rumbled from Clint’s chest. “Marissa’s death was not Leslie’s fault.”

His grip on her arm loosened in shock just a moment before tightening again. Leslie gasped, and her knees nearly went out from under her. She prayed Cindy was inside calling the police right now, and that she wouldn’t try to open the door and put herself in Jacob’s crosshairs.

“Don’t even speak her name. You’re not allowed to speak her name!

” Jacob nearly shook with rage. “You have no idea what it’s like to stand there and watch, knowing that the person you love more than anything is burning to death.

And all because the people who are supposed to be heroes don’t even try to save her. ”

“Please.” Leslie flinched when he moved the muzzle of the gun forward just a little.

“We couldn’t go to those apartments on the third floor.

They were already fully engulfed. The hallway in front of them was collapsing.

I’m sorry, but your wife would’ve already passed before we even arrived on the scene. ”

It seemed so cold to say it like that, but it was the truth.

“I don’t believe you. You took my wife from me, and now it’s your turn to know exactly how it feels to lose someone you love to a fire.”

Realization hit Leslie like a truck. It’d been Jacob who’d tried to call and text her, and it was all a ruse to get her here. But that meant he’d been inside the house and used Cindy’s phone…

“What did you do to my sister and her kids?”

Rage dulled the pain in her arm and made her want to whirl around and try to fight back. But as long as he had that gun to her head, she’d be on the losing end of any battle.

“Oh, your nieces are still fast asleep in their little beds. But your sister? She didn’t even know I was in the house.

I tied her up and put her in the pantry.

Trust me, I made sure she wasn’t going to get out.

She’ll be trapped, just like my Marissa.

” He dropped her arm and reached into his pocket.

He lifted a lighter up in front of her face, produced a flame with a click, and laughed.

Fresh fear surged as she realized he was going to set fire to her sister’s house and then force her to watch it burn with her family inside.

Seeing Leslie held at gunpoint filled Clint with a rage that he struggled to keep in check. He forced himself to breathe evenly and stay focused. He wished he had a way to call in for backup, but if he reached for his phone, then it would agitate Jacob further.

Leslie sagged a little when Jacob stopped squeezing her injured arm and pulled something out of his pocket. With a click, a flame appeared.

Clint tried to grasp what was happening. Jacob had broken into the house, tied up Leslie’s sister, and he knew there were two little girls still in there. Yet, it was clear the deranged man was more than willing to set the whole place on fire and burn them alive.

The situation was deteriorating quickly. He needed to buy them some time and then pray that an opportunity would present itself.

“Jacob. Look at me.” Clint’s voice brought the other man’s attention to him. “You haven’t killed anyone yet. You can still come back from this.”

“No.” Jacob shook his head as he sneered. “I don’t care. Drop your gun. Now.”

If Clint put his gun down, he had no doubt Jacob would shoot him, then he would be of no use to Leslie or Cindy and the kids.

Right now, Jacob wanted to hurt Leslie more than he wanted to kill her.

And while he might not care if he died once his point had been made, he certainly didn’t want to be stopped now.

Clint’s best option was to wait and pray for an opening to take the guy out. “I’m not going to do that.”

Jacob growled as he clenched the lighter in his hand. The small flame cast an eerie orange glow on Leslie’s face. She squeezed her eyes shut.

Please, God, give Leslie strength and keep her head clear. Calm Jacob. Help me to know what to do when it’s time.

When Leslie opened her eyes again, her gaze snapped to Clint’s. There was no fear, only determination as she spoke.

“Jacob. I know I can’t even imagine the kind of pain you’re going through.

I get that you want to make me pay for what happened to your wife.

But think about what you’re doing right now.

Are you really going to burn an innocent woman and her children to death?

They have nothing to do with any of this. ”

“Shut up!”

He must’ve pressed the gun against Leslie’s head even harder because she flinched and balled up her fists.

Clint continued to breathe evenly, keeping Jacob in his crosshairs. If only he had a clear shot, he’d take it in a heartbeat.

Leslie’s eyes snapped open again. She looked at Clint, and while he wasn’t sure what she was going to do next, it was clear she was prepared to react if she had the chance.

“Jacob,” she began, her voice even. “We both know you don’t really want to do this. Come on, put the gun down.”

The gunman’s brows bunched as pain and anger marched across his face.

“I don’t care who’s in there.” He threw the open lighter on the ground by the front door.

He must’ve poured an accelerant there because a fire immediately came alive across the whole entrance.

“Just like you didn’t care that my Marissa was in that apartment building. ”

In that moment, Jacob twisted slightly away from Clint, moving the gun from Leslie’s head and pointing it at the door of the house.

Clint took in a steady breath, held it, and squeezed off the shot.