Page 30 of Rescued Dreams (Last Chance Fire and Rescue #8)

TWENTY-NINE

“Y ou really think I’m going to just do whatever you say?” Amelia stared at her brother, a sick feeling in her stomach. She’d always disliked him because he had been nothing but horrible. She tried not to hate, but the amount of pain that had been dished out in her direction by him and others…

She’d have every right to be bitter at the world if she allowed it.

But something told her that if she did that, if she succumbed to the justification to hate, she would turn into a shriveled-up version of herself. If it went on long enough, she would never be able to come back to the kind of person she wanted to be.

So as she stood there, staring at her brother, she tried to feel nothing. She wanted to feel sorry for him, that he’d wasted his whole life working toward this.

She wanted Ridge.

Her brother jerked toward her. “You’ll do whatever I tell you to.”

“I’ll sign my half over to the women’s shelter in town. The church. The foundation that saves stray cats and nurses them back to health. Anyone who wants it can have a donation from me. Anyone except you.”

His arm swung out toward her. She tried to flinch away, but it was too fast. The butt of his gun slammed against the side of her head.

Amelia blinked and realized she was on her hands and knees.

Knocked down, but not out.

How many times in her life had she been forced to get back up?

She’d lost count.

Amelia stared at the industrial-style carpet on the floor of the manager’s office, her head pounding with pain. Her blonde hair hanging down on either side of her face. A nail chipped. The mother of all headaches ricocheted around her skull.

She sat back on her heels and braced her hand on the edge of the desk when she swayed. There was barely enough room to turn around in here. The manager sat at the desk, and she could see his feet under it, curled back with his ankles crossed in a defensive position.

He was nervous.

She looked over the desk and saw the fear on his face. Sweat rolling down his heavy jowls.

Elam said, “Is it done?”

He nodded, his cheeks wobbling. “It’s printing now.”

“Good. I’ll need the safe open so y’all can get me my money.” Elam backed up two steps and turned around to face the bank lobby. “All right?—”

A swarm of police officers in SWAT gear raced into the room, spread out so that it seemed like they filled every spare inch, and started to call out.

“Police, hands up!”

“Hands up!”

“Drop that weapon!”

“Freeze! I said, freeze!”

Amelia backed up, clapping her hands over her ears. She wouldn’t have been surprised if Elam had turned his gun on the cops and ensured they killed him. But he didn’t. He froze, held the gun where the cops could see it, and set it on the floor when instructed.

He wanted the money.

Even if he had to wait until he was out of jail again to get it.

Amelia lowered her hand and heard a choking sound from the manager’s direction. She glanced over, spotted the telltale gasping. Clutching his chest, confused why his arm hurt. “Medic!” She screamed the word and ran to the manager. “What’s your name?”

She grabbed his wrist with one hand to feel for a pulse, and with the other, tore the top couple of shirt buttons free.

He gasped, but his eyes rolled back in his head.

“I’m a firefighter and an EMT.” Her head still pounded, but it didn’t matter when a man’s life hung in the balance. A man who had just passed out.

A police officer she didn’t recognize stuck his head in. “We need to get the doors open, then the EMTs can come in. Hang tight.”

“Get the doors open or this man doesn’t make it!” She paused for a second. “His heart stopped!”

Maria appeared at the door. “I’ll find an AED.”

The lobby was a mess of people, all of them talking. She didn’t spot any of her people now that Maria was off hunting for an automated external defibrillator. The one thing that could save this guy’s life.

A police officer raced in a few seconds later, hauling the life-saving device. “We’ve got it.”

She spotted the intent on his face and moved out of the way, leaving them to it. If they didn’t know who she was, they’d assume she was one of the victims here. She knew that because no one had arrested her.

Amelia stepped out of the manager’s office and realized she might not be getting arrested, but she wouldn’t be going far.

Lieutenant Basuto, in his SWAT gear, strode over. “Are you hurt?” His gaze scanned her, snagging on the source of the pain on her temple. “Much?”

“I could use an ice pack. And an explanation.”

Basuto’s dark brows lifted. “Let’s get control of the scene, make sure everyone gets where they’re supposed to be, and then we’ll talk.”

“He wanted the money. Which apparently has been here the whole time? At the same bank where someone was trying to frame me for paying people to hurt firefighters.” She wanted to shake her head over the fact this didn’t add up, but that would only hurt more.

“And probably even that I paid someone to nearly kill me in the training house.”

“Did you?”

Amelia stared at him. “If I say no, will you believe me?”

Before he had the chance to answer, Ridge yelled, “Amelia!” He raced over.

She moved around Basuto, done with their conversation. She’d much rather see Ridge.

He looked relieved to see her and opened his arms. She burrowed in, sliding her arms inside his jacket and wrapping them around his waist. He held on to her, and she pretended she could disappear into his hug. That they weren’t in the middle of a room full of people.

Amelia let out a long breath.

“Are you okay?” He whispered the question in her ear. “That knot on your forehead looks nasty.”

“Looks like she got pistol-whipped.” That was Izan.

“Ouch.” Della.

Apparently everyone was here. “How did you guys know to be here?”

Ridge said, “They called us to breach the door, but it looks like Maria is doing it.”

Amelia turned in his arms and saw Maria speak to the cop beside her. He handed her a multitool.

Maria turned to the mechanism on the door handles, and a second later, the doors swung open. “You’ll want to call the National Guard, Chief.” She was speaking to Conroy Barnes, the police chief. “They’re missing some of their tech.”

Maria went to the nearest window and removed a little block that looked like gray modeling clay. “Remove these carefully, separate the detonator, and it’s safe.”

“He rigged the place to blow?” She turned back to look up at Ridge, still in his arms. “Like…explode?”

“Who knows what his plan was?” Izan said, like the group was having a conversation, not just Amelia and Ridge. “It’s not a great way to get out.”

Amelia bit her lip.

Ridge smiled, then touched his lips to hers. Short and sweet. “I’m glad you’re all right.”

“I will be.” She squeezed his middle with her arms, not quite ready to let go. “Seriously though. How was he going to get out of this situation?”

Della shrugged, catching the eye of a cop and waving. The woman actually blushed, which was interesting. Her Indian heritage gave her gorgeous Middle Eastern features. But it was the care she showed toward victims, particularly children, that made her a great person.

Ridge said, “The explosion could have been planned not just for if the police tried to open the doors but also for him to deliberately set off so he could escape in the confusion.”

“That’s a risky move, but I wouldn’t put it past him to kill everyone inside just so he can have all that money.” She wasn’t sure what route she’d have chosen if she were Elam. As if she would ever rob a bank—even if he’d called it a withdrawal. “How did you guys get in?”

Izan clapped Ridge on the back of the shoulder, jogging them both. “Your boy here got us onto the roof next door, and we shimmied over a ladder between the buildings like we’re the highwire guys in a circus.”

Amelia lifted her brows.

“The cops wanted to do it first,” Ridge said, a gleam of little-boy delight in his eyes. “But we had to make sure it was secure.”

“All right! If you’re not a cop, you need to make your way outside.” Basuto waved them all toward the door. “Ms. Patterson, don’t go far.”

She didn’t respond to him. Her head thrummed with pain, and she touched her fingers to the spot. Ridge caught her hand. “Careful. We need to get that looked at.”

Amelia nodded, which made her head hurt more.

“Come on.” He walked her out, heading for the front door.

“No ambulance.”

He turned them around to go the other direction. “We’ll go to the truck.”

She liked that idea much better. Ridge held her steady all the way out the back door, and before long, he was lifting her by her hips to set her on her seat in the front—his seat. Their seat. Until she passed the lieutenant’s test and got her spot back.

Then where would he be?

Amelia decided not to worry about that right now. Ridge took a look at her head and shone a light in her eyes. He shook an ice pack to activate it and said, “Hold this to the spot where it hurts.” So she knew she wasn’t bleeding and didn’t have a concussion.

Ridge grabbed the handle at the top of the door, leaned in, and kissed her. “I’ll tell the chief we’re headed back to the house.”

Amelia closed her eyes in lieu of nodding.

She watched him jog away to the back door of the building, speak with Macon, and then jog back. He closed the door for her, and she buckled her seatbelt with only a little help from Della.

Amelia tried to turn around and look at the back seat. She twisted most of the way before it hurt, far enough to say, “Thanks, guys.”

“You think we’re gonna leave you to those cops?” Della snorted and put the truck in Drive, easing slowly down the lane behind the building. “They don’t call the shots. We’re the real heroes.”

Amelia frowned. What was that about? “Are you okay, Della?”

“Sure.” She cleared her throat. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Izan chuckled and leaned forward to squeeze Amelia’s shoulder. “We didn’t know you were in there when we showed up, but if we had, we’d have driven faster to get there.” He frowned at Della. “I could take a turn driving anytime you want.”

Della said, “I don’t.”

Ridge snorted. Even the floater laughed.

Izan said, “I took a picture of Ridge on the ladders between the roofs. I’m gonna blow it up on canvas and put it on the wall in the firehouse kitchen.”

Amelia grinned. “I want a copy for my house.”

The truck jerked, the engine stuttering. Della said, “What?—”

A loud bang sounded behind them, and the back of the truck lifted up. Flipped them over. Amelia saw a ball of fire in the rearview and didn’t even have time to gasp.

The truck slammed back down on the street.

Everything went black.